The Broken Path

by Erin Hunter

“I think he’s brave,” said Lick quietly.

  “What?” Lucky was bewildered.

  “Mickey does what he thinks is right. He can stay loyal to the longpaws as well as to the Pack—don’t you see, Lucky? That’s just who he is. He wouldn’t be Mickey if he forgot the longpaws.”

  Lucky tapped the ground slowly with his tail, unable to think of an answer.

  “It doesn’t mean he’s going to abandon us.” Lick laid her head on her forepaws, her eyes downcast. “It doesn’t mean he’ll leave the Pack. He just wants to remember where he came from. That’s all.”

  “I . . .” Lucky stared at her, but now she wouldn’t meet his eyes. The truth hit him like a longpaw-kick in the ribs. “Are you really talking about Mickey, Lick?”

  Lick’s muscles stiffened and she looked away. Then her ears flopped down beside her head. “I was going to tell you, Lucky, I . . . I had another dream last night.”

  Lucky licked his muzzle. “About Fang?”

  “Yes. Except it wasn’t like a normal dream. It was so real, just like it was before I met Fang outside the last camp. We were standing at the place where the river divided, and Fang was there. He said he was dreaming too. He wanted me to meet him there and come back to the Fierce Dog Pack with him. And I just know that if I went, he would be there waiting.”

  Oh no, Lucky thought. Lick, you can’t abandon us now. . . . “But I told him no,” Lick whined. “I said I wanted to stay with my Pack.”

  Lucky’s heart swelled with pride. “You chose right, Lick.”

  “I think so.” Lick’s tail gave a hopeful wag. “Fang was really angry. He said I’d abandoned my Pack, and if I wouldn’t come by myself then Blade was on her way and she’d make me see my mistake.”

  Lucky suppressed a shiver. He thought of the massed bodies of the dogs that he saw in his dreams, battling while freezing shards of ice whirled all around them. The Storm of Dogs isn’t real, he told himself, and neither is this dream of Lick’s. I just wish I were a bit more certain. . . .

  “You’re my Pack, and I’m not leaving. But he’s still my family. I can’t just be one thing or the other,” she barked.

  “It’s not something we can work out with a few words; I see that now,” Lucky said. Not Mickey’s confusion—and not yours either, Lick. “Let’s get back to the camp.”

  As Spring had predicted, Alpha was in a far better mood by the time Lucky and Lick returned to the Food House. He sat up and barked a gruff welcome as the last two members of the hunting party carried their rats into the room and laid them on the prey pile. Stepping back to view the rats stacked there in the center of the room, Lucky’s mood lifted as he realized just how well they had done.

  “A successful hunt,” barked Alpha. “Though it was unwise to split up at the end. Stay together from now on.”

  He can’t resist a criticism, thought Lucky, but for once Alpha’s complaints didn’t seem important.

  With so much prey to go around, the sharing of food was calm and disciplined. Dogs chatted amiably as each waited for their turn, and Lucky noticed Martha murmuring to Mickey. The conversation seemed to cheer the Farm Dog up, and his eyes lost their faraway expression as his tail tapped the floor.

  When it was Lucky’s turn to select a rat, he suppressed a shiver. He could ignore the greasiness of its fur and the clinging smell of rotten longpaw-spoils; after all, he was ravenous. Closing his eyes, he chewed into its flesh. Not quite as bad as he’d expected . . .

  “You must be hungry, Omega,” Moon told Sunshine, her voice kind. “But there will be plenty left; don’t worry.”

  “I know,” yapped Sunshine, sitting pertly with her furry ears pricked. “I don’t mind waiting.”

  “Just as well,” grunted Whine, but without his usual sneery hostility.

  “Where did you go this afternoon, Mickey?” asked Bella.

  Beetle put in, “For a walk. To stretch his muscles. Didn’t you, Mickey? He met us on the way back from the hunt.”

  “That’s true.” Mickey gave him a grateful look, then stepped forward to take his share of the rats.

  “Hmph,” growled Alpha. “Dogs wandering off alone, splitting up on a hunt—discipline is slack in this longpaw-place. Don’t imagine that will be tolerated forever.”

  “Alpha’s right,” said Sweet. “You all need to take more care. The Fierce Dog Pack is still out there, and now there’s the threat of Terror as well. We can’t let our guard down and start acting like Leashed Dogs.” Martha and Daisy were in her eye line, and she shot them a meaningful glance.

  “Of course not, Beta,” said Martha meekly.

  “Is Omega finished eating? Good.” Sweet stood up. “We should howl now. And then get a good night’s rest.”

  Alpha stretched, raking scratches in the hard floor with his claws. “Outside. There can be no proper Great Howl in this . . . longpaw cage.” He glanced at their surroundings, his muzzle curling with disdain.

  It’s shelter, not a cage, thought Lucky, and we should thank the Sky-Dogs for it. But he rose and padded out into the street with the rest of the Pack.

  The sky was still cloudless and clear, frosted with stars, and the Moon-Dog cast distinct shadows from the walls of the longpaw settlement. Alpha padded out to where the silver light shone full on the hardstone, then waited for his Pack to gather around him. Lightning and the Sky-Dogs were barking, but their voices were muted and distant, and Lucky knew the danger of the rain was a long way away for now.

  A single howl rose from Alpha’s throat, quietly at first. Then, as the other dogs joined in, he tipped his head back and gave a full-throated cry to the Moon-Dog. Lucky waited for his cue from Snap next to him, then joined his voice to the others, his mind drifting as the sound throbbed and rose and fell around him. As the Great Howl spun its magic, he felt his body grow lighter. The silver Moon-Dog light brightened, until he felt as if the stars themselves were floating loose and spinning around the Pack.

  I belong here. . . . We all belong. . . . The Moon-Dog and the Sky-Dogs and us, we’re all part of the same life. . . .

  He closed his eyes, yet still he could see the stars. This time, when he saw the shapes of dogs form, leaping through the black emptiness between them, he was not surprised. Lucky had grown used to the feelings the Great Howl roused inside him, and he could let his own mind bound free, rising with the sound of the Pack. It felt wonderful to let the worries and the hunger of the daytime slip from his hide, to let the harmony of the Howl thrill into his bones.

  A huge dog formed in the sky in his mind. Massive and noble, she was a great black shape that seemed to absorb the stars so that they glittered within her body. She was racing across the night, huge paws pounding the air as she ran toward something . . . something else that shone and glinted like the stars. It was a great expanse of black water that sparkled silver: a vast lake that went on forever. Excitement thrilled through Lucky, and he raised his howl in joy. Around him he heard the rest of the Pack raise their howls to blend with his.

  Martha! For a moment confusion touched Lucky’s mind. The ghostly black dog leaped and dived, plunging into the black water in a shower of silver starlight.

  Not Martha—the River-Dog. Or is it both of them?

  The stars blurred into a haze of white light as Lucky squeezed his eyes tight. The howl was ending, fading, when he wanted it to go on and on forever, like that starlit lake. . . .

  He blinked. The night was no longer whirling. One by one, the dogs around him fell silent, until only Alpha’s voice was left. Then, as the dog-wolf too lowered his head, there was only the quietness and the ordinary glow of the Moon-Dog.

  Does this happen to every dog? But if it happened to us all at once, how could we ever stop howling?

  Alpha’s growling voice broke into his thoughts. “I have an announcement to make to the whole Pack.”

  Every dog sat up straighter, attentive. Martha shivered, and shook herself. Did she see what I saw? wondered Lucky. She looked as if she found it hard to stop
howling, too.

  “There is no food here worth having,” said Alpha gruffly. “We ate well tonight, but you all know that one nest of rats cannot support this Pack for long. We have to take our hunt to the forest—whether this Terror likes it or not.”

  There was a low, general rumble of agreement from the circle of dogs.

  “I’ve met Terror,” said Fiery, “just as some of you have.” He glanced one by one at Bruno, Lucky, Snap, and Mickey. “He’s a dangerous dog, but we can’t allow that to frighten us.”

  “I agree,” said Sweet quietly. “He will fight us, but he must not be allowed to keep us from hunting in the forest. That is the Forest-Dog’s law.”

  Again there were murmurs of agreement. Snap stretched and scratched her ear with a hindclaw. “Let’s take the fight to him, then. I didn’t like being chased away from my prey!”

  “It’s decided.” Alpha rose to all fours, his muzzle curling in a determined snarl. “The whole Pack will go to the forest tomorrow. Let Terror decide if he wants to fight us all. A show of strength should teach the mad dog to respect the true Spirit Dogs.”

  As the Pack rose and stretched, growling to one another, Lucky stayed silent. He glanced around at his friends, wondering if any of them felt the same foreboding he did. His sense of dread kept him still, rooted to the spot.

  It makes sense when Alpha says it here, among the Pack. But I’m not so sure that it will work the way he hopes.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Snow crunched under his paws, but he didn’t sink into it. He flew across the glittering white ground, and though pine trees stretched in every direction, they gave way before him, opening up to clear an endless, snowy road. He moved too fast for his paw pads even to feel the cold.

  Lucky halted, sniffing the frosty air. Where was the prey? What prey? He couldn’t even remember what he’d been chasing. A rabbit? A rat? He didn’t know. Why couldn’t he remember?

  Because I’m dreaming . . .

  Of course he was dreaming. Even now that he stood still, his paws didn’t feel the cold. This isn’t real.

  The forest closed in again around him, hiding the snowy track. Now the branches were dense and he had to shove and shoulder his way through, but the trees didn’t scratch him; thorns didn’t snag in his fur. It was as if everything was made of snow. Distantly he could hear furious, frenzied barking.

  I have to go to those dogs. I don’t know why . . . but I must.

  He ran again, the branches giving way like mist. Far sooner than he expected, the foliage vanished and he was in a clearing, a shallow bowl of snow. There in the center, two dogs were fighting to the death, wrestling, biting, snarling. And he knew them—Blade the Fierce Dog, and Terror.

  This is the Storm of Dogs . . . and all the dogs but these two are gone!

  The mad dog’s body shook with every blow and every bite, yet he didn’t fall; he kept on struggling, fighting viciously to survive. But Lucky knew that Terror didn’t stand a chance against Blade. As a shadow passed overhead, Lucky glanced up; the sky was a deep, dark gray, snow clouds whirling into a tight, ominous spiral. And the snow began to fall: flakes of gray and white that spun down thickly. When they reached the ground, Lucky knew they would smother them all. But the fighting dogs took no notice. He could see that the fight was turning, and he couldn’t look away; now Terror was driving Blade back. He was going to win—Terror was going to kill the Fierce Dog Alpha!

  A snowflake landed on Lucky’s flank. Instead of a soft, cold tickle, there was a sharp stab of pain. Lucky yowled, though no sound came out.

  This is a dream. I shouldn’t feel pain in a dream!

  But he could, and now the snow was falling fast on his hide, stinging bitterly wherever it touched him. Something’s wrong! Lucky twisted and yelped, feeling the snow burn into him—and then he realized. It wasn’t snow; it was shattered clear-stone! And the snow at his feet—that too was a deep layer of tiny clear-stone shards. It fell all around him, wicked, glinting pieces that pierced his skin.

  Panicking, Lucky broke into a run, but he didn’t know where to go. Back and forth at the edge of the clearing he dashed, the shards stabbing deep into his paw pads. The clear-stone blizzard was cutting his hide off in strips, ripping away his fur, and blood spattered the fallen snow-that-wasn’t-snow. Yet still Blade and Terror fought on, ignoring the storm of clear-stone. Lucky’s rib cage tightened until he couldn’t breathe. There was nowhere to run, no dog to help him. Clear-stone showered him and his blood flowed. He was going to die.

  How can I die in a dream?

  But he was. Lucky was going to die. . . .

  Lucky jerked awake, his head snapping up as he growled and whined with terror. No snow. No clear-stone. Around him the frozen pines and icy branches faded, becoming nothing but the peeling walls of the Food House.

  I didn’t die. Sky-Dogs, thank you; I didn’t die!

  There was warmth at his flank. Lick slept peacefully, her sides rising and falling with her gentle snores. Yet even though he blinked again and again, Lucky could still see falling splinters, could still hear the echoing growls and snarls of the battling dogs; he could still smell the smoky frost, tingling in his nostrils. And worst of all, he could still feel the stabbing pain of the clear-stone that had buried itself in his fur. He shook himself, then licked hard at his flanks. There were no real wounds and no blood—only the healing scars from his fight with the badger—but that didn’t stop the stinging. Lucky whined, licking and nibbling at his hindquarters.

  Lick blinked awake and pricked her ears. “Lucky! What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just—” Lucky shuddered again and whimpered, nosing his flank.

  “Did some dog hurt you?” Lick sprang to her paws and spun around, baring her teeth at the shadows. “Where are they? I’ll show them!”

  Lucky’s head still spun with the dream, the images clinging to his mind and making him feel dizzy and sick. “It wasn’t that, Lick—I don’t know—”

  “They can’t do this to you!” Lick snarled, hackles high. “Show me where they went!”

  “No!” Lucky forced himself to stop fussing at his fur. “No, Lick, wait—you don’t understand. No dog hurt me. It was just a dream.”

  “You’re sure?” Her lips were still drawn back over those fierce fangs.

  “Yes, really.” He was touched by her loyalty, but something made him uneasy. Lick wanted to defend him, and did not think twice about coming to his rescue—but she was so quick to attack.

  Maybe that’s the trouble, he thought. Maybe she ought to think twice. At least no other dog had been awake to see her lightning-fast reaction, her instinctive aggression. The whole Pack was stirring now, though: yawning and stretching in the early Sun-Dog light. Lucky wished she’d get those hackles down.

  “Honestly, Lick,” he muttered, “I’m all right. It really was just a dream.”

  “Well. If you’re sure.” Lick tilted her head and gave him a questioning whimper. “You looked so—so scared, Lucky.”

  I was scared. But that’s stupid of me. It was only a dream.

  “We’ll be moving on soon.” Alpha’s growl disturbed his thoughts, and for once Lucky was grateful. “But first, we’ll hunt. I’m sure every dog here is hungry.”

  “Oh, yes,” whined Bruno. Daisy gave his ear an affectionate lick as Dart woofed in amusement.

  “I’ll lead a patrol,” suggested Fiery, yawning and scratching at his ear with a hindpaw. “Bruno, you come, since you’re so keen for food. And Snap, Lucky, and Mickey. Is that all right, Alpha?”

  Alpha grunted in agreement. “Try not to get into pointless fights with the mad dog.”

  “We won’t. I’ve got a good feeling in my fur today,” Fiery reassured them all. “We’ll find plenty of prey.”

  “And there’s no way Terror will catch us off guard this time,” added Snap. “We’ll be ready for him and his crazy Pack.”

  Lick was on all four paws, gazing yearningly at the hunting patrol as they gathered at t
he Food House door. Her tail twitched at the tip, as if she was just managing to stop it from wagging. Lucky glanced at Alpha, then yipped to Fiery.

  “Should Lick come again? She’s a useful hunter.”

  Fiery opened his jaws, but didn’t get a chance to reply. Alpha paced forward, claws clicking, and he narrowed his yellow eyes as he sniffed at Lick.

  “Keen to go, is she? What makes you think she deserves to be a hunter?” His muzzle curled as he glared at the young Fierce Dog. “You, pup. You haven’t even had a Naming Ceremony. The lowest dogs in this Pack don’t get the honor of hunting.”

  Oh, no. Lucky saw the hackles rise on Lick’s spine. She’s only just calmed down.

  The other Pack members went quiet as Alpha padded a circle around the young Fierce Dog. Sunshine whimpered fearfully and sidled closer to Martha. Spring gave a low woof of unease.

  Alpha licked his teeth, sneering, as he prowled around Lick. His tail brushed her nose as he circled her again. She watched him warily, turning to try to keep her eyes on his. On his next circle, he bumped his shoulder hard into her flank.

  Off-balance already, Lick went sprawling onto the ground, her legs flailing. She recovered fast, though. She sprang up and lunged at Alpha with her teeth bared.

  No! thought Lucky in panic.

  The young dog’s jaws were about to close on Alpha’s throat when Fiery leapt forward, knocking her aside. Her teeth snapped on the air and she snarled, then spun and attacked again. But Fiery was between her and Alpha now, his paws splayed firmly on the ground, his eyes blazing. Lick skidded to a halt, glaring, her muzzle curled.

  “You want to challenge Alpha?” growled Fiery. “Then you’ll have to do it properly. Declare your challenge before the Pack, and accept the consequences.”

  Lick breathed heavily, but there was a look of uncertainty on her face now.

  “If you won’t go that far,” Fiery went on, his voice low and steady, “then you need to calm down. Right now.”

  Lick blinked and licked her chops. Her gaze shifted to Alpha, then back to Fiery. Turning her head slightly, she met Lucky’s eyes.