by Erin Hunter
She drew closer, and Moon saw her and stopped circling. “Good morning, Storm,” she said. “Forgive me—I just need to warm up my paws.” She went on circling, and Storm came close and sat down, shivering. The injustice of Moon’s punishment hit her again, even more forcefully. I didn’t realize it was so cold up here.
“I’m so sorry,” she whined. “I know you didn’t steal from the prey pile. I’m sure Alpha will let you come down soon.”
“I hope so,” Moon said, finally coming to a halt. “You know, Storm, I don’t blame Alpha—I didn’t steal that prey, it’s true, but I understand how it looked. I’m just glad that I’ve been able to help with the pups. I think it shows the others that she trusts me.”
Storm nodded and glanced back toward the camp. From here, she could see between the few trees that circled it, down to the dens and the prey pile, past the pond, and across the grass to the line of trees where Whisper’s body had been found. Beyond that, the landscape rolled away from the cliffs, patches of grass and clumps of trees alternating until she could see the dark line of Twitch’s forest on the horizon.
“You can see so far from up here,” Storm murmured, aiming to be subtle, but unsure if she was succeeding. “If you think about it, you’re the Pack’s first line of defense—from longpaws, or foxes, or anything. You can see things coming long before we could scent them.”
“That’s true,” said Moon, “but it’s no substitute for proper patrols. Farm Dog eyes are keen,” she added, with a hint of pride. “But they still fail me sometimes, especially in the dark. I didn’t see a thing when the foxes killed poor Whisper. Of course, it happened beyond the tree line, so I wouldn’t have seen anything from here, even in daylight.”
“Oh,” Storm said, trying not to look too disappointed.
“Still, I feel I should have known something was happening,” Moon went on. “If I’d spotted a creature that shouldn’t have been near the camp, I would have been able to bark the alarm, like you said. Perhaps . . . perhaps Whisper would still be with us. Or at least we could have caught the foxes in the act, and we wouldn’t be struggling with not knowing if they had truly killed him,” she added, padding close to Storm and resting her muzzle kindly against Storm’s for a moment.
“That’s all I want,” Storm said. “Just to be certain that it was the foxes before we attack them. You understand, don’t you?” Her stomach twisted up with anxiousness at the idea of lying to Moon, but she told herself it was true—it just wasn’t quite the whole truth. “You really didn’t see anything?”
“Nothing but a couple of dogs leaving the dens,” Moon said, and Storm caught her breath. “I saw two dogs wandering around down below—they must have been Pack members; they were far too close to be intruders. I couldn’t scent them from so far away—they just looked like dog-shaped shadows. They walked off toward the woods.”
“I see,” Storm muttered, staring down at the camp with hope and frustration chasing each other around her mind. Moon had seen something that night, but she hadn’t known which dogs she was looking at.
Was one of them Whisper? And the other . . . could it have been his killer?
CHAPTER NINE
The Sun-Dog was high overhead as Storm trotted into camp with a large rabbit dangling between her jaws. As uncomfortable as she felt around Lucky right now, Storm knew she couldn’t avoid the rest of the Pack forever. Volunteering to go on the first hunt leaving camp that morning had seemed the best idea, and she had enjoyed the opportunity for a run with Woody, Bella, and Snap, Breeze circling them protectively as their scout dog.
Storm had channeled all her uncertainty into following Bella’s orders, and they had caught several fat, juicy rabbits for the Pack. Now Storm was tired out and starving. It was hard to make herself place her rabbit in the prey pile with the others instead of gulping it down.
“That was a good hunt. Well done, everyone,” Bella said, nodding in satisfaction as all five rabbits were dropped in a delicious-smelling heap.
Storm turned away from the prey so that she wouldn’t be tempted anymore. She was no fox, to sneak off with her prey and gobble it down all by herself. She could wait until it was time to eat. In fact, perhaps it would be a good idea for her to leave camp and lie down for a moment.
She was much more tired than she should be, after a single hunt. She felt as if she had been running for days without stopping. Her legs were slightly weak, and her breath was shallow. Her vision was a little bit fuzzy at the edges too, and she knew that meant it was time for her to rest her eyes for a few moments.
I’ll just slip out and find somewhere safe to rest. I’ll wake up in time for prey-sharing. No dog will miss me. . . .
But just as Storm reached the edge of the camp, she heard two sets of heavy pawsteps thudding against the ground. Looking across the wavering grass toward the forest, she saw two dogs running full pelt toward the camp, their long fur streaming behind them. It was Thorn and Beetle, and as they came closer, they started barking.
“Alpha! Beta! We need you, come quick!”
They raced past Storm and into the camp, yapping anxiously. Lucky bounded out of his den, anger and fear mingling in his eyes.
“What’s going on? Alpha’s resting, and you’ll wake the pups!”
“Beta,” Thorn gasped, “it’s the foxes! We saw them!”
“What, where?” Lucky growled.
“Near Twitch’s old forest! We heard them and smelled them!”
“There were lots,” Beetle added. “They were gathering together—we think they’re going to attack!”
“What?” Storm couldn’t help her whine of confusion. She opened her mouth to speak again but forced herself to stop before she could blurt out the flood of thoughts that were filling up her head.
That doesn’t make any sense. They must have scented us near their territory. Why would they try to attack? They’re weak, and they know we’re more than a match for them in battle.
The rest of the dogs gathered around, muttering to one another and looking angry and frightened. Any doubt they’d had about the foxes’ guilt seemed to be seeping away.
“Those mangy little . . .” Mickey’s jaws clenched as he padded over. “First they kill Whisper, now they want to attack the rest of the Pack?”
“It’s because of the pups,” Breeze gasped. “They’ve scented them, and they know we’re vulnerable right now.”
Lucky’s eyes went wide with fear. “We need to deal with this,” he said. “And quickly.”
“Drive them off!” Snap barked. “Let’s go right now, and show them what it means to come into our territory!”
There was a howl of agreement from several of the other dogs. Storm looked around, from one dog to the next, waiting for one of them to notice what she had—that it didn’t make any sense for the foxes to attack now.
Finally Bella stepped forward. “I don’t understand. What could they gain from this?” she said, padding up to Lucky and catching his roving, angry gaze. “Pups or no, we’ve defeated them before, and we’ll do it again.”
Lucky frowned. “Yes, why would they pick a fight now?”
Storm’s heart swelled with gratitude for Bella’s ability to get through to her litter-brother when few dogs could.
He’s actually considering it. . . .
“But we scented them! They were really close,” Beetle whined.
“Well . . . if they are really out there . . .” Bella turned and fixed Storm with a look, and gave a tiny shake of her head. “If Thorn and Beetle really saw them, we should run them off, whether or not they’re planning to attack.”
Storm’s heart sank, but she supposed Bella was right—whatever reason the foxes had for coming into their territory, it couldn’t be good, even if they were innocent of Whisper’s death.
Woody ground his large forepaws into the dirt. “We must fight them now. Those pathetic not-dogs may have some reason for moving now that we don’t know about, but if they think we’re vulnerable, then they
’re mistaken.”
“Right!” Rake stepped up beside Woody. “They must not expect us to put up much of a fight. So why not let them come to us? We can lie in wait for them here and rip them to pieces when they try to attack. Revenge for Whisper, at last!”
“We all want justice for Whisper,” yapped a small voice, and Storm looked down to see Daisy, her white fur bristling. “But that doesn’t mean we should bring violence into the camp. Alpha is still recovering, and the pups are too small to be taken to safety.”
“We can protect them,” growled Ruff. The former Omega joined Woody and Rake, her small black form looking almost puppyish between the two taller dogs. “We won’t let any more of our Packmates get hurt by those horrible beasts!”
“Ruff is right. The best way to protect ourselves is to finish this now,” Breeze said. “Let them come to us, and we’ll teach them a lesson they won’t forget. We faced Blade’s Fierce Dogs, didn’t we? If we could fight them, we can certainly drive a Pack of starving foxes off our own territory.”
“That’s not a good idea.” Mickey’s voice was reasonable, but insistent. “If we’re going to attack them, we should take it to their territory, not ours.”
“Just like a dog from the half wolf’s Pack,” Ruff muttered, glaring at Mickey. “Thinking you know best.”
Storm took half a pawstep back, her heart hammering. It seemed like, in the blink of an eye, the Pack had divided right down the middle—dogs from Twitch’s old group huddling together on one side of Lucky, with those from Alpha’s Pack gathered uncertainly on the other.
Woody leaned forward to glare at Lucky. “You were quick to turn to us for help when the Storm of Dogs was upon you, but now that one of us has been killed . . .”
“Now, that’s not fair.” Twitch stepped firmly between Woody and Lucky. “Alpha and Beta want justice for Whisper as much as any of us.”
“We’re one Pack now,” Mickey barked. “Every dog feels the pain of losing Whisper.”
Storm felt her hackles rise. What were they all doing? Arguing over who was saddest, when there were foxes acting suspiciously and a killer on the loose? That wasn’t what Whisper would have wanted. He would have wanted them to catch the real killer, not argue about whether to attack the foxes or lure them into camp. . . .
She started forward, unsure what she would say but determined to give them all a piece of her mind.
“Storm, no,” came a soft growl. Storm looked over her shoulder. It was Arrow. He jerked his head to the side and then padded away. Storm paused for a moment, still not sure that she wouldn’t rather jump snapping into the middle of the raging argument and bark her fury at the dogs until they all calmed down, but then she turned and followed him.
Arrow led her over to the shadow of a tree and sat looking down the slope toward the pond and the tree line, where Thorn and Beetle had come running back to camp. Storm stayed on her paws, feeling slightly awkward. The others went on arguing, and Storm caught barks about “Pack loyalty!” and “Revenge!” but she tried not to listen.
“I know how you’re feeling,” Arrow said calmly. Storm huffed through her nose and resisted the urge to tell him that he had absolutely no idea how she was feeling. “Well, perhaps not exactly,” he conceded, “but I know you feel like jumping in and telling them all to go chase a rabbit off the cliff. You can’t do that. Remember, if you sound like you’re standing up for the foxes, other dogs might start pointing their noses toward you.”
Storm clawed the ground. “I know.” A wave of frustration and tiredness washed over her and she sank down onto her belly.
A moment later, a loud howl broke through the cacophony of barks and whimpers.
“Enough!”
It was Lucky. Storm got up and turned to better hear what he would say, feeling resigned. Bella and Arrow were right—there was nothing she could do right now without making everything worse.
“That’s enough,” said Lucky. “I’ve made my decision. Bella, you and a few good fighters will stay here with Alpha and the pups. The rest of us will go and find these foxes. We’ll drive them off our territory, and perhaps we’ll even get to the bottom of what happened to Whisper. It’s time those filthy fiends learned that attacking dogs will bring swift and certain vengeance.”
A chorus of approving barks broke out around him, and Storm was glad to see that they came from Twitch’s Pack as well as Alpha’s.
“We should sink our teeth into every fox we find,” Woody growled.
“I hope it won’t come to that,” said Daisy quietly. “It should be easy enough to scare them off.”
Storm looked to Lucky, hoping he would echo Daisy’s words—but their Beta just stared coolly into the distance for a moment.
“We’ll do whatever we have to,” he said finally. “To keep our Pack safe.”
The other dogs seemed satisfied with this, but Storm didn’t feel reassured. She was still looking at the cold, ruthless glint in Lucky’s eyes, and feeling a chill of realization—that becoming a Father-Dog really had changed him.
“Daisy, Sunshine, Ruff, you stay with me,” Bella was saying. “Moon, Beetle, Bruno, and Breeze—will you stay, too? And Arrow, I think,” she added. “We might need the extra fighter.”
Woody made a humph sound and frowned at Bella. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Storm glanced at Arrow, wondering if this conversation bothered him, but his face was placid.
“And why not?” Bella snapped.
“Well, it’s just . . . the pups.” Woody cast a worried glance back at Arrow, who still didn’t react. “I’m not sure I would be so . . . trusting.”
Bella’s hackles went up. Storm thought she was only just restraining herself from giving Woody a sharp bite on the ear.
“Arrow will be of more use coming with us on the raid,” Lucky said, before she could reply. “There’s not much more frightening than a Fierce Dog.”
He said it so casually, as if it was a compliment. Bella shot an angry look at her litter-brother, and then at Arrow, but the Fierce Dog still sat quietly, with only the tiniest shake of his head to tell Bella not to protest their Beta’s decision.
Storm tried to follow Arrow’s lead, but Lucky’s attitude still grated on her—when it came to protecting the Pack, their supposed savagery was suddenly of value.
Sometimes they think we’re more Fierce than Dog.
The raiding party moved at a swift walk through the trees, their ears pricked and their eyes scanning the undergrowth for any sign of red fur. Lucky led them, walking at such a pace that Storm kept thinking he was about to burst into a run. He occasionally lowered his muzzle to sniff at the ground, but his paws never faltered.
Arrow, Rake, Woody, Thorn, Mickey, and Snap trotted after him, and Dart circled them, using her superior scout dog speed to sneak quickly between the tree trunks, her eyes and ears open for any sign of the foxes.
Storm was bringing up the rear, but as they passed out from the forest into a grassy space, she quickened her pace and slipped past the others, drawing level with Lucky.
They were nearly at the foxes’ camp, and something wasn’t right. They hadn’t met the foxes Thorn had seen—the young dog had seemed perplexed when they’d traveled past Twitch’s forest and farther, saying that she and her litter-brother had spotted them closer to the camp than this.
Have we walked right past them? Storm wondered. Is this their plan, to lure us away from the camp so they can sneak around us and attack when it’s vulnerable? Then she reminded herself that Bella, Moon, Bruno, and the others were still there, ready to fight to protect Alpha and the pups . . . if any foxes showed up.
Storm glanced at Lucky, whose eyes were fixed on the other side of the meadow, where the forest grew thick again.
“Beta,” she said, uncertain how to say what was in her heart without simply making Lucky angry, but determined to try. “Every dog is so . . . so tense. We must be calm, when we find the foxes’ camp, right? Otherwise we could make mistak
es. Deadly ones.”
“Worried about me, pup?” Lucky asked, and to Storm’s intense relief, there was a hint of humor in his bark. “Don’t be—I know what we’re risking here, but we have good dogs with us, and I think I can keep myself in check. You should trust my judgment, Storm. I’m only trying to look out for you.”
“I do . . .” Storm said, and took a breath. But I worry that your terror of something happening to your pups has you seeing danger and threats where there might be none. . . .
Before she could work out how she could—or whether she should—warn Lucky of her worries, the Beta came to a dead stop, sniffing the air, his fur rippling. A second later, Storm smelled it too.
Foxes. Lots of them.
They had arrived at the foxes’ camp.
CHAPTER TEN
“The camp is surrounded by thick bushes with sharp thorns and nettles,” Snap told Lucky, her voice low and soft. “We won’t be able to charge them.”
“And their den is at the bottom of a hole in the ground, underneath the big fallen tree,” Thorn added, in the same quiet tone. “We don’t know how far down it goes—there might even be another way out.”
Lucky nodded. “Let’s hang back.” He led the dogs behind a thicket, and they huddled down on their bellies, staying low. “I have a plan,” Lucky said, still keeping his voice down. “With any luck, we can get out of this without having to fight. We’ll spread out around the camp, and on my signal, you’ll all make yourselves as frightening as possible. We might be able to scare the foxes into moving on and leaving us alone.”
Storm’s fur trembled with relief at hearing their Beta propose a bloodless plan. A wave of tiredness washed over her as she let herself relax a little.
“But what about Whisper?” Rake whined. “I thought we were going to get revenge!”
“We should use our advantage,” Woody said. “Tell them they must hand over the murderer to face our Pack’s justice. If they can give us the bad fox, we’ll let the rest go. If not . . .”