by Erin Hunter
Storm barked insistently, “Any dog can do this move, even smaller ones. It’s not about size, it’s about confidence. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have the best hold. An enemy—any enemy—will panic when he feels fangs at his throat.”
Lucky didn’t doubt that this was true, but he wondered how Storm knew it. And where had she learned the dive-and-block technique? She had been raised by the Wild Pack, not the Fierce Dogs. She had never been taught these deadly moves.
She must know how to fight instinctively.
He was glad that the traitorous half wolf wasn’t here to see this. The old Alpha had never trusted Storm. Lucky’s tail dropped a little at the thought, and he watched as Beetle took his position in front of Thorn. The pup’s dark muzzle quivered, and he took a step back. He’s scared that his litter-sister is going to rip his throat out! Lucky realized. Was the exercise too tough for the young dogs?
Thorn sprang at him, jabbing with her teeth, as Storm had, before diving down to Beetle’s throat. The young dog moved quickly, yipping in triumph, but her litter-brother shook and freed himself, tipping her off balance. Thorn rolled onto her side, and Beetle threw his forepaws on her flank, pinning her down.
Then he glanced nervously at Storm. “I’m sorry . . . that wasn’t supposed to happen, I just . . .” He dropped back, head lowered, as his litter-sister rose to her paws with an apologetic whine.
A ripple of apprehension ran down Lucky’s back. Moon’s pups were only a little younger than Storm, yet they cowered before her. Is it something Storm’s doing—some kind of natural dominance?
The young Fierce Dog gave Thorn a little nudge. “Don’t worry, you’re learning—it takes practice to get it right.” She turned to Beetle. “And you shouldn’t feel bad for having good instincts—they could save you in a fight.”
Lucky’s tension drained away, and his tail rose with a relieved wag. Storm isn’t the angry attack-dog that Alpha took her for. She’s showing patience and understanding. She’s more like us than the Fierce Dogs.
Feeling a wave of pride, Lucky turned and started padding between the trees. Storm didn’t need him standing over her. I trust her. His paws crunched over the frosty grass as he made his way to the edge of the camp where the cliffs hung over the Endless Lake. The air was salty and so cold that it cut beneath Lucky’s fur. Gray clouds gathered in the sky, bringing with them the promise of harsher weather. He closed his eyes, remembering the swirling snow he had seen in the dreams he used to have: the dreams about the Storm of Dogs. When he opened them, he thought he saw a flash of dark fur slip between the trees.
Lucky’s breath caught in his throat. He blinked, peering at the trees. Had he imagined it? He trod stealthily over the frost, doing his best to stay quiet. There was no scent on the air, and no paw prints were etched in the hard ground. He examined the circle of trees, his muzzle low. There was no sign of an unfamiliar dog, but Lucky knew he’d seen someone. His hackles rose as his eyes traced the horizon.
Was some dog here, spying on me?
Rising from the valley, Lucky could hear the yaps of the Wild Pack—they must have finished their training session. It was strange and unsettling to hear them sounding so cheerful and at ease when tension was skittering through Lucky’s belly like ants. With a last glance over his shoulder, he turned tail and made his way back to the camp.
CHAPTER TWO
By the time Lucky was past the pond and hurrying toward the clearing near the rear of the camp, the Sun-Dog was high in the sky, bounding over the low trees and brushing away the clouds with his golden tail. The air that drifted under him was bitterly cold, and Lucky gazed up a moment, confused. Why does the Sun-Dog’s heat feel so far away during Ice Wind?
He remembered the dark flash of fur that he thought he’d seen between the trees, and his pace quickened. It was probably nothing to worry about, but Sweet needed to know.
As Lucky arrived in the clearing, he was surprised to find the Pack gathered in an anxious circle. Sweet gave a sharp bark when she saw him and lifted her muzzle in reproach. “Where have you been?”
Lucky dipped his head, giving her a conciliatory lick on the nose. “I went for a walk.” He was about to mention the dark-furred dog he’d spotted when Sweet cut in.
“Dart and Moon have just come back from a patrol, and they’ve seen something . . . strange.”
Moon stepped forward, her blue eyes sharp. “We were patrolling the perimeter of the town down by the Endless Lake.”
Lucky flexed his whiskers. “Just the two of you? You shouldn’t go there without a bigger patrol—you know that’s where the Fierce Dogs have made their camp.”
The Farm Dog raised her white muzzle. “That’s just it. We didn’t smell any Fierce Dogs.”
“It’s like they just vanished,” Dart put in. The skinny brown-and-white chase-dog paced nervously next to Moon, gazing beyond the trees to the distant cliffs.
“But we did hear something else,” growled Moon, her lip peeling back. Her long ears flattened in agitation, and Lucky grew wary. “Longpaws,” she spat. “Just when we thought we were rid of them.”
Bella and Mickey took a step closer, and the Pack exchanged worried looks.
Moon turned to Sweet. “It sounded like there were a lot of them, and we thought we should check it out with our Alpha before going any closer.”
Bella cocked her head, puzzled. “Do you mean to say that the longpaws have returned, after all this time?”
Looking back toward the cliffs, Lucky was thoughtful. The longpaws had been gone so long, and so much had changed. He remembered treading the streets of the city, begging for a meal at the Food House and sleeping in the park. But that was a lifetime ago, before the Big Growl.
Sunshine scrambled between Bruno and Martha, her filthy tail giving a cheerful wag. “The longpaws? Back in their cities and towns?”
Sweet frowned. “Surely the important question is, what sort of longpaws? Are these the nasty, yellow-pelted creatures that captured Fiery?”
Moon growled, her hackles rising. “We weren’t close enough to see them, but if those yellow longpaws have dared to come back, I’ll get rid of them!”
Beetle and Thorn yipped their agreement, making a show of snarling and bounding in circles.
“Let’s get them!” growled Thorn, throwing down her black-and-white forepaws.
Lucky rose to his paws. “Before we do anything, we need to see what the longpaws are doing. It will be no-sun soon enough.”
“We’re not going anywhere tonight,” said Sweet with a firm look. “The Sun-Dog’s journeys are short during Ice Wind—he’s already high overhead and he’ll soon run for his den. I don’t want us traveling during no-sun; it’s dangerous. In the morning I will lead a larger patrol, and we’ll find out what the longpaws are up to. Lucky, I want you by my side. Also Bella, Moon, Mickey, Martha, and . . .” She surveyed the gathered dogs. “Omega.” Her eyes rested on Sunshine.
The dirty white long-haired dog yipped in surprise, her eyes round. “You want me?”
“You have experience with different types of longpaws, and that could be valuable.”
Sunshine’s tail wagged furiously. Lucky turned to his mate. He was glad that under Sweet’s leadership, the dogs’ talents were more important than where they fit in the Pack ranks. Sunshine had been overlooked so many times, and he knew it meant a lot to her to be able to contribute.
His thoughts were interrupted by Storm, who had sidled up to Sweet. “I should come too,” insisted the Fierce Dog. “Just in case anything goes wrong. I’m a good fighter.”
Lucky stiffened. The last thing they needed was a confrontation, and if Blade’s Pack was still in the town after all, it would be dangerous to have Storm with them. They might seek revenge against Storm for beating Fang in the Trial of Rage, or challenge her to another trial. “It’s important that you stay here,” he said quickly. “With so many of us in the town, who will defend the camp? You’re strong and brave, and we need you to look out
for the others.”
Standing beside the young Fierce Dog, Sweet gave Lucky a grateful look. He knew she didn’t want Storm in the town any more than he did.
Storm snorted. She didn’t seem particularly thrilled at the prospect of staying behind, but Lucky’s praise had reassured her. “Okay,” she replied. “I’ll make sure the camp is safe.”
The next morning at sunup, Sweet led the patrol along the rugged cliff path toward the Endless Lake. Lucky peered at the lashing waves as they rolled over the sand far below, breaking in bursts of mist. The cold expanse of water still scared him, but he was used to it now. As the dogs hopped down the rock crags toward the bank, he noticed that the water smelled less salty than it had when the air was warmer.
The path became narrow, and Lucky fell back behind Sweet. He glanced over his shoulder to see Mickey, Bella, and Moon. Martha was walking slowly, helping Sunshine over the steeper rocks.
The route down the cliff took them alongside a small stream. Lucky paused to drink but hesitated. The water looked different. He stepped closer, his paws crunching on the frosty grass. He prodded the edge of the water with his paw. It tingled with cold. Ice . . . well, more a sort of sludgy half ice. But he could see that the water was growing harder, just like . . . Lucky’s ears flicked back.
Like a dog’s body after death.
He had seen puddles freeze in the city, but could that happen to the mighty River-Dog? Was the Spirit Dog sick? Lucky’s eyes darted over the narrow path of the stream, which gleamed pale blue, frozen still. It must have been so cold for the River-Dog; she couldn’t escape over the horizon like the Sun-Dog. Lucky whimpered, his tail drifting to his flank. He tried not to think about the River-Dog as he followed Sweet down the last of the rocks onto the high bank of the Endless Lake. They prowled along the edges of the town.
Sweet turned to Lucky. “I can hardly smell the Fierce Dogs.”
It was true—their scent was very faint. They must have abandoned their camp in the longpaw building. But where had they gone?
As the patrol drew closer to the town, Lucky could hear the barks of longpaws. Then he caught a low, familiar grumble. Loudcages! Moon whimpered quietly, and her tail drooped.
Sweet paused, then addressed the dogs. “There certainly seem to be a lot of longpaws around. I want to try to work out what they’re up to and if they’re here to stay, so we’ll have to get nearer. Follow me and be very careful. Walk in a line, close to the wall. That way we won’t be so easy to spot.” She started stalking along the edge of a building, and Lucky followed at a distance. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw his litter-sister Bella creeping after him, shrinking against the hardstone wall. She tipped her head at him, and her eyes glittered with excitement.
The barking of longpaws and the roar of loudcages grew louder.
When she reached the end of the street, Sweet crouched down and peered around the corner. Her tail fell between her legs and Lucky couldn’t resist creeping up alongside her to get a better view of what she was seeing.
He was shocked to see a large number of longpaws pacing up and down the next street, calling to each other. Their pelts were orange, not yellow, and their heads were covered with shiny, hard shells. There was sand and rubble everywhere, and several of the longpaws were sweeping up some of it into neat mounds. Two others climbed into a huge yellow loudcage with a single, enormous tooth. It rumbled to life, dragging its tooth along the ground and picking up large chunks of debris.
Sweet and Lucky retreated, joining the other dogs in the shelter of a doorway. The swift-dog told them what she and Lucky had seen.
Moon was thoughtful. “They don’t sound like the same longpaws who killed Fiery. And it does seem like the Fierce Dogs have gone.”
Bella licked her chops. “It may be worth sticking around to find out if there’s anything worth stealing. Where there are longpaws, there is usually food.”
Moon looked uncertain. “Longpaws are dangerous.”
“They aren’t all bad!” whined Mickey. He dropped his muzzle defensively, and Lucky felt a familiar tightness in his belly. The Farm Dog had made so much progress since the Big Growl. Of all the Leashed Dogs, he had found it hardest to give up the hope that his longpaws were coming back. It would be a disaster if after all this time, Mickey started pining for his old life again.
But it was Sunshine who broke forward with a volley of excited yips, running onto the street. “I want to see them!”
Lucky went to block her, but Mickey got there first. Martha sprang forward to help him, placing a large, webbed paw in front of the excited Omega. “No, not yet,” she soothed in her deep, gentle voice. “We don’t know if they’re friendly.”
The little dog faltered. “I’m sorry,” she whined. “You’re right . . . I don’t know what got into me.”
“Oh no!” Bella howled, aiming a worried look at Sunshine. “Now look what you’ve done!”
A couple of the longpaws had heard the commotion and were pointing at the dogs. One started to approach them with cautious steps.
Lucky looked to Sweet. “What should we do? They don’t seem aggressive.”
Sweet’s hackles were raised. “We don’t know what they’re like, and I’m not going to risk some of my best fighters. Everyone, back to camp!”
The dogs obeyed immediately, following Sweet as she hurried away from the town, scampering over the hardstone where it collapsed into sand and onto the high bank of the Endless Lake. Lucky hung back, preparing to stop Sunshine if she tried to make a break for the longpaws. But the Omega seemed to have learned her lesson. She ran by Bella’s side, her little legs powering to keep up, her tail a tangle of fur behind her. Like the other dogs, she didn’t look back.
Once they were up on the cliff path, hidden from the town behind curving boulders and knotted thorns, Sweet came to a stop. The other dogs gathered around her. Sunshine flopped on the ground, panting quickly—the climb was hardest on her.
Mickey turned on the little dog angrily. “By the Sky-Dogs, what were you thinking? You could have gotten us in serious trouble!”
Sunshine sighed, her head sinking onto the ground in front of her. “I know, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. The moment I knew that longpaws were close, I felt a need to go to them. I was raised by longpaws; it’s like an instinct, the need to be near them. But it has passed now.”
Mickey lowered his head, his jaw softening. “I understand.”
Sweet didn’t look so forgiving. Lucky tensed as she approached the Omega. He hoped Sweet would be more forgiving than the half wolf had been, but the pressures of leadership could change a dog’s character.
“You need to learn better self-control,” she told Sunshine sternly. “We have to be able to rely on one another.” She turned back toward the camp and started to retrace the route up the cliffs. Mickey and Moon followed her lead.
Sunshine rose to her paws, her head lowered solemnly, and padded after them in silence. Lucky let out his breath. Sweet hadn’t changed. He should have trusted that her fair nature would hold. He felt pride and affection swell within him.
The dogs walked along the rocks. Lucky slowed his pace, drifting to the back of the group, where Sunshine was already struggling to keep up. Bella paused to walk alongside them.
Sunshine raised her head a moment to look at the littermates. “I know what you’re going to say,” she whined pitifully. “I wasn’t actually expecting to see my longpaws in the group, it’s just . . . I was excited to know that some had survived the Big Growl, and that they had come back. I know the yellow-furred ones are mean, but I don’t hate all longpaws. Mine were always kind to me.”
Lucky gave the little dog a friendly lick. “I’m not angry, Sunshine. I know you mean it when you say you want to do better. That’s what counts.”
He caught Bella’s eye and beckoned to her with a tilt of the muzzle. The two littermates slipped away from the others, standing in a dip between rocks so they couldn’t be overheard.
&nb
sp; Bella cocked her golden head. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s just . . . I was wondering. If things went back to how they were before the Big Growl—if lots of longpaws returned and set up new camps—would you want to go and live with them again?”
Bella fell silent, gnawing a bur stuck to her flank. She pulled it free and dropped it on the frosty ground. “No,” she started slowly. “I can’t say that I would. If my own longpaws returned, well, that would be different. I’m not sure I could ever turn my back on them, if they wanted me. But I’m a Pack Dog now. I’ve heard my dog-spirit and have gotten used to the freedom of being able to roam where I like.”
Lucky’s tail wagged with pride at his litter-sister’s words. She was a true Wild Dog now, just like him. With the dog-wolf gone, it felt as though the Pack was finally working together for a common goal—survival.
CHAPTER THREE
The frost had melted on the ragged grass of the camp, but Lucky still shivered in the bitter air. The afternoon was tinged with a violet light. Sweet lifted her long, pale muzzle, glancing for a moment behind her, in the direction of the cliffs and the Endless Lake. Then she turned back to the Pack.
“So we left the town immediately,” she finished.
Dart’s eyes grew wide, and she pawed the ground. “But the longpaws saw you? They know we’re here?”
Bruno gave a low growl and Snap stiffened, the fur bristling on her wiry muzzle.
Lucky looked to Sweet, admiring her calm authority.
“They saw us in the town, yes,” she replied. “But they didn’t follow us when we left, so they don’t know the location of the camp.”
Moon’s blue eyes were as cool and clear as the water of the frozen stream. “In my opinion, they’re still too close. We’re not safe here. Those creatures hurt Fiery. If they can bring down such a powerful dog, they can do it to any one of us. What if they decide the town isn’t big enough for them and they come this way?”
