by Erin Hunter
“We bite back,” growled another. “Yes, we does.”
“Kill cub-pups for fun?” The leader spoke again, his breathing harsh. His pelt was matted and dirty, and his eyes leaked yellow streaks. “No, we don’t let you. Some dog pays for this crime!”
The line of dogs yielded as Alpha pushed through from the rear, walking with dignity and elegance despite her swollen belly. She glared into the fox leader’s rage-crazed eyes.
“We know nothing of any dead pup of yours,” she told him. “We only know about a pup your kind killed.” She nodded at Moon, who snarled low in her throat.
“Dog-scents in our camp, oh yes,” he growled. “Explain that, hm? Can you? No! And just before cub went missing. Dogs killed him!”
“No,” said Alpha, a dangerous edge to her tone. “Dogs did not!”
The fox yowled with anger. “Yes! Cub-pup’s body is near here! Almost in dogs’ camp! Dogs killed!”
Alpha drew herself up and took another pace forward, till her muzzle was close to the fox’s. “Leave,” she growled calmly. “Leave now, and do not come back.”
Moon stepped to her side. “Do as our Alpha said.” Her voice was menacingly soft. “Dogs do not kill anyone’s pups. Dogs aren’t cruel and vicious, not like foxes.”
Storm, watching nervously, licked her jaws. I can’t say anything. Not here, not now. But some dog is that cruel and vicious, Moon.
For a horrible, dragging heartbeat, Storm feared the bristling standoff might erupt into violence again. She knew that Moon still mourned little Fuzz, and the death of her mate Fiery had given her an even fiercer determination to protect her surviving pups, Thorn and Beetle. Her hatred of foxes would be more than enough to make her lunge for the leader’s throat. . . .
“You lie,” snarled the fox. “Lie and kill. Brute dogs!”
But Moon only gave a coughing bark of contempt. “We don’t kill pups,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t kill grown foxes if they attack us, unprovoked.”
The fox leader remained silent as he glared at her with hate. Then he flicked his brush, and turned his rump contemptuously on the dogs. He cast a parting snarl over his shoulder. “Not over, this. No. Over it isn’t.”
His mob followed as he slunk off into the trees, and soon the foxes had melted into the shadows of the forest. Storm felt a wave of relief, but it was swiftly chased out by dread.
I don’t think it’s the last we’ve seen of them.
Alpha turned to the Pack, her expression bewildered and angry. “What caused this? Does any dog know what that was about?”
The Pack shared glances, looking as baffled and nervous as their Alpha. Chase flicked his tail anxiously, shaking his head. Mickey whined in denial. Sunshine crouched at the rear of the ranks, whimpering in confusion. Bruno licked his bloodied jaws, perplexed, and Woody and Ruff growled simultaneously, “No, Alpha.”
Storm watched all their eyes, searching desperately for the smallest hint of guilt, but there was nothing. All the dogs of the Pack were here by now, Breeze as well as Arrow and Bella and Moon, but every dog looked like the next, startled and exhausted by the shock of the attack.
Storm whined to draw every dog’s attention, and sat on her haunches, her head drooping sadly.
“What is it, Storm?” asked Lucky, cocking an ear toward her.
She sighed. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“This is . . . this wasn’t a hunt.” Alpha stood over the corpse of the fox pup, her eyes filled with horror. “This is an obscenity!”
The rest of the Pack gathered around the pathetic little scrap of fur, their ears laid flat, their eyes wide and aghast. The tiny creature looked smaller than ever, as if the forest was already beginning to grow around it and reclaim its remains. Flies hovered and settled around its blank eyes and the bite wound in its belly.
Daisy crept forward, her expression disbelieving as she sniffed pityingly at the fox pup. “Now we know why they were so angry,” she whined softly.
“This pup wasn’t killed as prey.” Lucky’s growl was shaky with fury, and he backed protectively against Alpha, as if thinking of his own vulnerable pups in her belly. “There was no reason at all.”
“It’s just been abandoned here!” Mickey’s eyes were bright with anger.
“And so close to our camp,” growled Dart.
Woody shook his matted head. “I don’t understand. I don’t believe any of our Pack would do this.”
“Wouldn’t they?” Breeze curled her muzzle. “I know one kind of dog who’d do it without thinking. And we have two of them in our Pack!”
Storm took a breath of surprise as every dog in the Pack turned, some guiltily and some with accusation in their eyes, to look at her. She almost opened her jaws to bark a fierce denial, but their gazes had already shifted. The focus of every dog in the Pack was fixed on Arrow.
“We know Storm too well to think she’d do this,” said Dart gruffly. “She grew up in our Pack.”
“Arrow didn’t,” grunted Bruno.
Arrow froze in disbelief, his tail tapping nervously, but before he could gather himself to respond, Breeze barked again.
“You turned up very late for the fight, Arrow. Where were you?”
Bella sprang forward, her ears flattened. “This fox-pup has been dead since before Sun-Dog woke,” she barked. “Any dog with a nose can smell that!”
Whisper shifted uneasily. “It doesn’t have to be one of the Fierce Dogs at all,” he said, shooting a plaintive glance at Storm, who winced. “You were late too, Bella. Maybe you should explain where you were.”
Bella gave an angry yelp of astonishment. “I had nothing to do with this!”
“I agree,” growled Snap, her eyes narrowed. “Bella’s not the type to kill foxes. She’s more likely to sneak them into the camp as allies. Remember?”
Bella turned on her, shoving her muzzle close to the tan-and-white female. She pulled back her lips to show her fangs. “I made a mistake. And I’ve learned from it.”
“Have you?” snarled Snap.
“Yes! And I’ll always regret what I did.”
“That’s still not an answer to Whisper’s question.” Snap did not back off in the face of Bella’s fury. “Where were you? What were you up to in the forest, Bella, while we were under attack?”
Storm’s gut churned, but she could do nothing but sit there, motionless with indecision. I could tell the Pack exactly what Bella was up to. And Arrow, for that matter! But I don’t think either of them would appreciate the intervention. . . . She didn’t dare even catch Bella’s eye, in case her expression gave all three of them away.
I saw something I wasn’t meant to see . . . and there’s no way I can say it aloud.
“Well, Bella?” Snap cocked an ear mockingly. “We’re waiting for an explanation.”
“All of you, be quiet!” Lucky’s bark was uncharacteristically sharp. His ribs heaved with annoyance, and his face was as thunderous as the clouds when the Sky-Dogs battled. He pressed even closer to Alpha’s swollen flank, and Storm realized he was physically supporting her. The swift-dog was swaying slightly, her legs unsteady, and her eyelids were drooping with exhaustion. It’s the shock and stress from the attack, thought Storm guiltily, and this quarrel isn’t helping.
“We have to find out—” began Chase, but Lucky interrupted him with a howl of rage.
“I said, be quiet!”
Every dog flinched, pulling themselves closer to the ground and ducking their tails. Storm had never heard their easygoing Beta sound so angry, and it gave her a horrible twist of unease in her belly.
“You’re picking fights with one another when your Alpha is about to give birth to her first pups. Have you no respect?” Lucky glared around the Pack, meeting their sheepish eyes. “Are you irresponsible milk-pups yourselves? If you think you can do as you like, because Alpha isn’t capable—for now—of biting your sorry rumps, you’d better think about what you’ll do when sh
e’s back on her paws. Because her teeth are going to be finding a few of your haunches. And in the meantime, I’ll take pleasure in doing the job myself!”
No dog dared speak.
“Storm,” he snarled. “Take Thorn and Beetle with you, and bury this pup. Give it to the Earth-Dog. I think I can trust you three, more than any grown dog here, to do it with dignity.” He swept his cold stare around the Pack again. “We will find out which dog has done this—make no mistake about that. But in the meantime, your Alpha needs to rest, and not one of you has anything to offer but empty accusations. No dog is to come to Alpha with this petty bickering anymore. You’ll come to me, and I’ll decide what problems Alpha needs to hear. Do I make myself clear?”
“But, Lucky . . .” began Bruno.
“You’ll call me Beta!”
Bruno flinched back, shocked.
“Beta.” Chase padded hesitantly forward. “The Pack needs Alpha to judge—”
Twitch limped to Lucky’s side and stood at his shoulder, facing the Pack. “Beta is right. A Pack is only as secure as its Alpha, and your responsibility right now—all of you—is to support her. If Alpha is safe and comfortable, the Pack will be too. She has bigger things to worry about than your squabbles. So do exactly as your Beta says, and be quiet!”
That, thought Storm with satisfaction, seemed to do the trick. Only a few dogs began to open their muzzles, and they very quickly thought better of it. As the dogs dispersed, Lucky shepherded Alpha gently toward their den, and Storm turned to Beetle and Thorn. Beetle was licking disconsolately at his wound, but his fur was dense and he hadn’t been hurt too badly. He limped a little as he followed Storm, but she got the impression that his shoulder wound wasn’t as bad as the hurt to his pride.
“Thanks, Storm,” said Thorn. “For getting that fox off Beetle before it could hurt him.”
“Yes, thank you,” her litter-brother added, a little grumpily. “I appreciate it, but you know . . . I had that fox right where I wanted it.”
Thorn gave a little mocking snort, but Storm licked his ear kindly. “I’m sure you did, Beetle, but it was no problem, and you’re welcome. Now, shall we get on with our job?”
She wanted very badly to leave the subject of her attack on the fox. She didn’t want the two young dogs to dwell too long on the image of her jaws—her Fierce-Dog jaws—clamped on that fox’s spine. . . . Instead, very gently, she picked up the body of the little fox, making sure her teeth didn’t pierce its damaged body any more.
The three dogs padded farther into the forest till they’d found a softer patch of earth where the stones weren’t so large. Storm laid the fox-pup carefully aside on a bed of pine needles while she, Thorn, and Beetle set to digging a hole with their claws. Their muzzles and paws were caked with soil and mud by the time they’d excavated a respectable grave.
“How come we got this job?” grumbled Beetle as he sat back to catch his breath. “Is it because we’re the youngest?”
“No,” Storm scolded him lightly. “It’s because Lucky trusts us to do it properly.”
“Hmph.” Beetle licked mud from between his paw pads, while Thorn inspected his shoulder wound. They both seemed almost nonchalant now, thought Storm. When the fox-pup had been found they’d been stiff with horror, but now, during the practical work of giving it to the Earth-Dog, they seemed far more reconciled to the nasty business.
Storm turned quickly to the fox pup. Pondering Lucky’s motives for just a moment, she’d realized that trust wasn’t really the issue, though giving the dirty work to younger dogs had nothing to do with it either. Lucky had assigned Thorn and Beetle to the work because he knew it would give them something useful to contribute.
What was more, it would teach them about the ways of the Earth-Dog. This small job would show them that death, however sudden and terrible, was still a natural thing. The little fox would go to the Earth-Dog now, and he would nourish the forest and the prey creatures that lived in it, so that in turn his tribe would never go hungry. . . .
Lucky’s not the most warlike of dogs, Storm thought, but he’s a smart leader. Thorn and Beetle know a little more about death now, and that means they won’t be so afraid of it.
Glancing back at Beetle and Thorn, though, she felt a twist of resigned sadness in her belly. It was a pity that Thorn and Beetle had to accustom themselves to death at all.
They’re such good dogs already. They’re kind, thoughtful dogs. There’s no darkness in them, I can tell that.
A shiver went through her spine, all the way from neck to tail.
I wish I could say the same about myself. . . .
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I don’t believe those foxes are gone forever,” Daisy was yipping as Storm, Beetle, and Thorn returned to the clearing. “I think they’ll be back. They said so, didn’t they?”
“They still believe one of us killed that pup,” Woody replied with a twitch of his ears. “And until we find which dog is responsible, and do something about it, I’m sure they won’t leave us alone.”
Storm padded across the grass to join them. The late Sun-Dog striped the green grass with deep amber light, and despite New Leaf there was a coolness to the air that reached through her fur to tingle on her skin. There were still traces of Ice Wind’s breath, then; it must be reluctant to let go of the land it had gripped in its icy talons for so long.
Or maybe all I can feel is the coldness inside me. Storm’s muscles rippled with her shiver.
“What if we meet the foxes in the forest?” Ruff’s black ears were laid back tight against her head. It was almost time for Twitch’s former Omega to join the next patrol, and she was clearly fretting about the new danger. “And what if they come back in the night, when we’re not ready for them?”
“That’s all what-if,” Sunshine told her sternly. “You don’t need to worry, Ruff. The patrol dogs watch the camp by night, and Moon is on special High Watch, you know that. If the foxes do return, the Pack will fight them off.” The little dog’s eyes were bright with confidence; Storm was impressed. Sunshine must have her own fears, but she’d still found it within her to reassure the higher-ranking Ruff.
Storm didn’t want to get involved. She padded over to a patch of grass so that she could lie down by herself, but cocked her ear to listen to the other dogs. Making a show of nibbling burrs from between her paw pads, she watched from the corner of her eye as Lucky and Twitch greeted Alpha outside her den.
“This is serious business,” Alpha was telling her deputies in a low growl. “The pointless murder of the fox-pup is bad enough, but there’s something far more worrying. Whoever killed it left it near here, to draw the fox-pack deliberately. The killer wanted the foxes to believe we were responsible. Who would do such a thing?”
“That’s not the only mystery,” said Lucky gruffly. “What about that stolen food beside Moon’s den? None of us really believe she did it.” He looked to Twitch for confirmation, and the three-legged dog nodded solemnly in agreement. “Could there be a connection between the fox-pup and the theft?”
Storm held herself very still, her teeth paused delicately around a burr, straining to listen. She was glad Lucky had brought that up; it was something she desperately wanted to know herself.
“Maybe the fox-pup was another message to Moon,” added Lucky, shaking his head in perplexity.
“Or maybe . . .” Alpha dipped her pale muzzle and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to believe this, but we have to consider it: Could the fox-pup have been Moon’s revenge? Foxes killed her little Fuzz. And Moon must have been angry about being sent to High Watch. What if, on the way there, she—”
“No,” growled Lucky firmly. “Moon isn’t a bad dog. None of us believe she stole the food; do we really believe she’s a murderer? Of a pup?”
“No.” Far from being annoyed at his contradiction, Alpha sounded relieved. “But if not Moon, then who?”
Twitch scratched his ear thoughtfully with a hindpaw. “Bella, Arrow, Breeze, an
d Moon were all out of camp,” he pointed out. “They came to the fight late, remember? And Storm was outside too. . . .”
That was finally too much for Storm. She bounded to her feet and trotted over to the three leaders. They turned, startled, at her resentful growl.
“I had nothing to do with it! How could you—”
“Storm, calm down.” Lucky took a pace toward her. “You’re not being accused of anything. Twitch was only setting out the circumstances, so we can get to the bottom of this.”
Mollified, Storm sat back on her haunches and licked her jaws. She felt slightly embarrassed at her outburst now, but she couldn’t help pondering aloud. “Why would any dog come back to join in the fight if they were the one who set it up?” She growled, deep in her throat. “Maybe some dog wanted to look like a hero.”
“There’s no way it was Bella,” Lucky told them firmly. “She wouldn’t put the Pack at risk, not after what happened last time. My litter-sister’s learned her lesson, believe me.”
“What about Arrow?” Twitch cocked his head.
“Yes,” murmured Alpha. “I wish I could be certain of his motives.”
“He saved us from Blade’s ambush,” Storm pointed out defensively.
“True, but has the Pack been very welcoming to him since then?” Alpha gazed at each of them. “Most dogs have made it clear they don’t trust him. He could have set up the attack so that he could save the day, and earn their respect.”
Storm, Lucky, and Twitch were silent. It did sound horribly convincing, Storm realized, with a sinking sensation in her gut.
“Except,” said Lucky at last, “if that was his intention, it didn’t work. The Pack trusts him less than ever.”
“He wouldn’t be so stupid,” objected Storm fiercely. “And anyway, Twitch, why are you so keen to blame this on a Fierce Dog? Haven’t I proven that we aren’t all villains?”
“Don’t take it to heart, Storm,” he told her gently. “I’m only making suggestions. But it seems to me we’ve ended up with more questions than answers.”
