by Erin Hunter
Lucky watched, a dead weight in his gut, as Storm left with Snap and Mickey. They padded along the edge of the cliff and disappeared from view behind a jumble of rocks.
He felt a light touch on the shoulder and turned to see Sweet.
“They may actually catch something. I saw rabbit droppings along the way.” She tried to look encouraging, but there were shadows under her eyes and she shivered as she spoke. She was a skinny thing with such short, fine fur. She must be even colder than I am, thought Lucky.
“Come and have a rest,” he said, spotting a dip between the rocks that was sheltered from the wind. He led her to the spot and Sweet lowered herself to the ground with a sigh. Lucky wrapped himself around her, pressing himself close. Her body quivered with cold.
Lucky licked her neck, trying his best to warm her up. “Remember how we were next to each other in the Trap House, the night the Big Growl arrived? I couldn’t see you through the wall, but I knew you were there.”
“Of course,” she murmured, her eyes closing.
He watched her for a long time. The sleek fur that covered her muzzle was creamy white and still seemed fresh and clean, despite everything they’d been through. Along her back, her coat was the color of the sand on the rare occasions that the Sun-Dog shone his rays over the bank of the Endless Lake. Her scent had been so delicate and comforting when they’d been in the Trap House. It was still delicate now, rich and sweet, but he wasn’t so sure it was comforting. So much had changed since the Trap House. There was a lot to the swift-dog that Lucky hadn’t known then . . . fear, suspicion, but also strength.
Lucky sighed and closed his eyes too. Soon he sank into a dreamless sleep.
When Lucky opened his eyes, the Sun-Dog was lower in the sky. He looked around, confused for a moment. Then he remembered the night at the edge of the Endless Lake, and the Fierce Dogs, who couldn’t have been far away. Sweet was still by his side, but she was awake, her dark eyes glittering. She looked beyond Lucky to the foggy white sky. “In my old Pack, I was just an ordinary dog, not part of the leadership. But things changed after the Big Growl. Being Alpha’s Beta was an act of necessity. You do what you have to, to survive.” She met his eye for a moment, then looked beyond him once more. “And I’ve grown to realize that being part of the Pack’s leadership is important to me. You understand that, don’t you, Lucky?”
Lucky wondered why Sweet was asking him that question now. She had explained all this before. Unless . . . Is she worried about whether she’ll become the new Alpha, now that the half wolf has gone? Then another thought occurred to him. She doesn’t think that I want the responsibility, does she?
He opened his mouth to reply, but Martha’s deep bark interrupted him. “The hunters have returned!”
The dogs converged on the sandy clearing, tails thrashing in anticipation. Snap set down the last of the prey-creatures in a little mound, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. She stepped back to reveal four juicy rabbits to the yips of the Pack.
“Every dog will have something to eat today!” barked Mickey, exchanging a satisfied look with Snap and Storm. The Farm Dog’s tail beat the air.
Bella ran up to the hunters, congratulating them. The other dogs joined in, barking their thanks.
Lucky felt a pang of sadness that these dogs were reduced to worrying where their next meal was coming from, surviving from day to day without knowing what to expect. He thought back wryly to the river rabbit. He’d considered that a small meal between five. He looked at the prey-creatures, running his tongue over his lips. They looked delicious, but it wouldn’t be much between so many dogs.
Although it’s two dogs fewer than yesterday . . .
He snapped out of his thoughts to see that all the dogs were standing by the prey-creatures in silence. Some looked to Sweet, who watched the rabbits uncertainly, her whiskers flexing. Lucky realized what was happening. They don’t know how to begin without Alpha to take the first bite. Even Leashed Dogs like Bella and Daisy had grown so used to the ritual that they hesitated.
Sweet cleared her throat and raised her muzzle decisively. “Since we have no Alpha right now, we should all eat together and share the food equally. We can settle the question of leadership later.”
The hungry dogs didn’t need to be told twice. They fell upon the rabbits, crowding around in a tussle of fur until there was nothing left. As they settled onto the sandy earth to clean their paws, Moon climbed onto a large, flat rock.
“Packmates, gather closer,” she urged. “So we can remember Alpha, who led us so bravely.”
There were whimpers as the dogs drew toward her and settled in a circle. No keening howls, though, Lucky noticed.
Storm stared across the foggy the lake, her eyes blank. Was she remembering how the half wolf had insisted on calling her Savage? Was she thinking of Alpha’s final moments on the lake road?
“We have all come so far,” Moon continued. “You have all shown bravery, loyalty, and resilience.”
The dogs whined in appreciation and Lucky cocked his head. Moon carried a great deal of respect in the Pack. He could understand why.
The Farm Dog’s eyes were a dazzling blue once more. “We are all suffering from having lost our Packmate Spring, and our leader, Alpha.”
Dart whimpered, lowering her head onto the ground.
“But is Alpha dead?” said Whine, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. “We don’t even know that for sure!”
“Yes, we do!” Martha growled. “Lucky saw him fall off the lake road. The water down there is so rough that no dog could survive.”
“Alpha had webbed paws, like you,” Bruno pointed out.
Martha glanced at her own paws, with their rubbery webbing. “Not even I would have survived it for long.”
Moon raised her muzzle to the sky and let out a long howl. The dogs threw back their heads and joined in. The mournful sound rose over the cliff, over the distant cry of the longpaw house on its lonely sandbank. The dogs huddled closer together. Lucky could smell their scents weaving on the air. As his own scent mingled with theirs, he felt the bond between them grow stronger.
Eventually the howl petered out. Moon jumped off the flat stone and padded toward the remains of the rabbits. She gathered some bones and a fluffy white tail.
“Let’s bury these,” she suggested. “As a mark of respect to Alpha and Spring, who can never be buried.”
Mickey was the first to start digging, working his black-and-white paws through the frost and sand. The others joined in. They had soon dug a trench deep enough to bury the rabbit’s remains. Sweet kicked dirt into the hole with her hind legs and Snap helped to pad down the earth.
Moon looked up at Lucky. “Will you speak a few words for us? You always know how to say the right thing.”
Lucky was taken aback. Since when am I better at speeches than any other dog? But now was no time to argue. The whole Pack was looking at him, waiting for him to continue.
He stepped onto the flat stone and turned to address them. “Farewell, brave Spring. Devoted friend . . . loyal Packmate. We will miss you, now and for always.”
Dart let out a terrible howl. Daisy went to comfort the hunt-dog, nuzzling her soft ears.
The others were still watching Lucky. His mouth opened and closed. He knew he had to say something about Alpha now, but what? He remembered the ferocious dog-wolf he’d encountered when he’d first joined the Wild Pack. Alpha hadn’t been the most compassionate of leaders, but he knew he couldn’t say that. Lucky’s tongue lapped at his nose. It doesn’t matter what I think. The Pack needs comfort right now.
“Farewell, Alpha,” he began in a solemn voice. “Half wolf, half dog, you were born to lead. Courageous in life, heroic in death.” The words felt like dust in his mouth and he had to stop his tail from stiffening, betraying his insincerity.
The dogs didn’t seem to notice, yipping their agreement and dipping their heads in respect.
As Lucky stepped off the flat stone, Sweet appr
oached and quietly thanked him. “You are a good dog. You knew that was just what the Pack needed to hear. Alpha would thank you too, if he could.”
No, he wouldn’t, thought Lucky. He’d be angry with me for outliving him.
While the rest of the Pack stayed close to the buried remains as a mark of respect, Lucky padded to the edge of the cliff. He stood alone, gazing out over the endless expanse of white fog, which covered the lake like a pelt. His memories of the dog-wolf were complicated. A tough, uncompromising leader. Sometimes he had seemed cruel, like when he had threatened to brand Lucky a traitor, and the way he had treated Storm. Other times he had been bold, and even wise.
Lucky thought he had glimpsed a softer side to Alpha once or twice. He remembered how the leader had spoken of his puphood. It couldn’t have been easy being half dog, half wolf. Always viewed with suspicion, never totally accepted.
“So long, Alpha,” Lucky whispered to the wind. “May the spirits of both dogs and wolves be with you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The fog crept over the Endless Lake as white birds circled overhead. Where its white pelt parted, Lucky could see the water shifting in great rolls. He stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind blowing back his fur. Alpha’s wolfish face drifted as a vision before his eyes. Only Fiery had dared to challenge him. Who could guess what would have happened if the hunter had lived? Both dogs had seemed invincible. It was hard to believe they both were gone.
An angry snarl broke over the wind and Lucky spun away from the cliff. It was Snap. Her paws were set apart, her hackles up. She was confronting Moon, who was growling at her between gritted teeth.
Lucky bounded down to them. “What’s going on?” he barked.
“This little upstart is trying to deprive me of my right!” spat Moon. “Fiery was third in command after Sweet. As his partner, I am high in the ranks and am entitled to chew on that bone!” She made a move toward the mottled remains of the prey, a piece of the rabbit’s thigh that hadn’t been buried. Snap blocked her with a snarl.
Beetle and Thorn whimpered fretfully, standing close to their Mother-Dog. The rest of the Pack hung back nervously.
Snap took a step toward Moon, her eyes blazing. “No dog is entitled to wolf down the remains, just like that! There are plenty of us here; you’re not better than anyone else. If anything, you’re lower in the ranks than I am, and you don’t see me stealing food!”
“How dare you! I am not stealing anything—this is my right!” Moon flung herself at Snap. Snap darted toward her. Lucky only just had time to throw his body between them.
“Stop it immediately!” He glared at Snap, then turned to Moon. His head pulsed with anger and it was all he could do to stop himself from taking a sharp bite of her rump. “What ranks? What are you talking about? Look about you! Alpha is dead and so is Fiery. We’re only just managing to survive. I don’t understand you, Moon. After such a lovely ritual you want to ruin it for . . .” His eyes trailed over the rabbit bones. “For a mouthful of scraps. What’s wrong with you? What sort of example are you setting for your pups?”
Moon’s sky-blue eyes grew so wide they were ringed by a circle of white. She cowered away from Lucky as though injured, threw back her head, and howled in grief. “I’m sorry! So much has happened; so much has changed. I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know how the Pack will manage. How will we carry on?”
Beetle and Thorn crowded around her, licking her face and whining in sympathy. Lucky sighed, guilt twisting in his belly. I shouldn’t have been so hard on her.
Snap lowered her head, her hackles relaxing. The dogs stood about, exchanging furtive looks. Lucky noticed that Sweet held back, watching with her head slightly cocked.
Daisy stepped toward him and cleared her throat. “We shouldn’t be fighting. But Moon is right, in a way. We have a problem, don’t we? We don’t have a leader. We won’t get far without one.”
Bella raised her muzzle. “That’s true. We need order or we’re going to run into trouble every time we eat, or need to make a decision about where to go. A Pack can’t manage without an Alpha.”
“But does that mean that dogs need to fight? That’s the custom, isn’t it?” asked Daisy, her tail dropping uneasily.
“There doesn’t have to be a fight,” Lucky assured her, and the little dog’s tail gave a wag of relief. “When Twitch became Alpha of his Pack there was a ritual, but no aggression. All the Pack wanted him to do was lead, so a fight would have been stupid. Another dog formally challenged him but went on to submit so that Twitch was immediately Alpha.”
“That sounds a bit weird,” murmured Dart. Lucky turned to her thoughtfully. The chase-dog had always lived in the Wild Pack. It’s probably hard for her to imagine there’s another way.
Snap was quicker to accept what Lucky had said. The scruffy little dog shook herself. “Maybe it is a bit weird. But does that matter? Nothing is the same since the Big Growl. We just have to do the best we can.”
Lucky flashed her a grateful look. He caught Sweet watching from the corner of her eye. Her slim tail gave a hopeful wag, but she lowered her gaze. The swift-dog wasn’t getting involved. She was Alpha’s Beta. She has more of a claim in the hierarchy than anyone here. He was about to ask what she thought when Bruno spoke up.
“You should be the leader, Lucky.” The gruff old dog raised his dark muzzle. “You’ve brought us such a long way, and showed more courage than any other dog.” His feathered brown tail thumped the ground.
Mickey barked his agreement. “Bruno always has the best ideas! Remember how he rescued us from Terror by getting us to climb into that longpaw dwelling? This is another great idea.”
Bruno’s chest puffed out with pride and he gave his nose a satisfied lick.
Mickey’s large brown eyes fixed on Lucky. “Without you, the Leashed Dogs wouldn’t have made it. You taught us to hunt and to work as a Pack. Since we joined the Wild Pack, things have been more stable, and a lot of that is because of you.”
Bella trod toward Lucky and nuzzled his ear. “You should be the Alpha, litter-brother!”
Lucky gave a surprised whine and turned to the others.
“Lucky for leader!” yipped Daisy.
Storm joined in, bouncing excitedly. “Lucky for leader!”
Whines and barks rose from the Pack. Lucky’s tail started wagging. But I don’t want to be Alpha, he reminded himself. He caught Sweet’s glance. Her eyes were pained. He cocked his head, keen to reassure her. I didn’t ask for this!
Sunshine started bounding back and forth on her short legs. “Lucky for leader! Lucky for leader!”
“Be quiet!” snapped Sweet.
The little dog quailed, her small ears flat against her head.
Sweet’s jealous. She wants to be Alpha; she practically said so.
He was surprised when Sweet’s voice softened. “Sorry, Sunshine. But do you know how much noise you were all making? We don’t want to attract the Fierce Dogs.”
Sunshine shot a look over her shoulder and the other dogs grew quiet.
Sweet turned to Lucky with a gracious twist of her long neck. “You are a popular choice for leader. You have the support of the Pack. Do you wish to be Alpha?”
She showed no sign of resentment. Lucky looked from dog to dog, remembering his life in the city before the Big Growl. I was a Lone Dog then. I’d share the odd bit of food, and tips about the best place to find it, with Old Hunter. But that’s not the same as being in a Pack, with all its rules. With a shudder, he remembered his time as Omega, when Alpha had sought to humiliate him by giving him the lowliest tasks. Whine had grinned with wicked pleasure and his friends from the Leashed Pack had guiltily averted their gazes, unable to look at Lucky. It still felt raw. I don’t want to be in charge of a system like that.
Lucky sat up straight, an idea coming to him. “What if we don’t have a leader at all? What if we don’t need one?”
“Don’t need one?” yipped Sunshine in alarm, forgetting Sweet
’s warning about keeping quiet. The little dog started darting in tight circles, her ears pinned back. “No leader—are you crazy? We can’t survive without some dog to make our decisions! We’ll starve; we’ll starve to death!”
Lucky waited patiently as Sunshine ran several loops, kicking up sand with her small paws. “Starve to death!” she repeated in her shrill voice, then turned back to Lucky. Her tail hovered uncertainly. When no dog joined her protests she let out a whine and flopped on her belly. She took to nibbling at a twig, which had tangled in the fur of her flank.
Lucky licked his chops and continued. “What if we shared responsibilities?”
Bella’s ears were pricked. “Shared them how? We already divide up tasks. There are hunting parties, Patrol Dogs, and the Omega helps to prepare the camp.”
“I don’t mean that.” Lucky tried to think of a way to explain, realizing that he didn’t have a word for what he was suggesting. It was nothing like usual Pack structure, with an Alpha on top, an Omega at the bottom, and plenty of hierarchy in between. He stared down at his paws, thinking. When he looked up, the dogs were all watching him, waiting for him to speak. Even Sunshine had stopped pretending to be busy. Gray clouds drifted over their heads and an icy raindrop fell on Lucky’s ear.
He shook his head and took a deep breath. “What if we lived by the rule of . . . of . . .” He looked around him desperately. What was it he was trying to say? If only he could find the words! He dropped his glance to the ground. The other dogs were crowded around him, their paws close together, yet each dog managed not to jostle others out of the way. Paws . . . His head shot back up. “Four Paws! We’ll call it Four Paws.” There were low growls of bemusement.
“Go on,” Sweet said, in an uncertain voice.
Lucky could feel excitement building in him as the plan took shape in his mind. “We need four dogs to place a paw close to one another, in a sort of circle. Just four dogs. What they say will carry a decision. Don’t you see? Say we had to decide which way to travel—we’d ask four dogs to cast their vote. Where to hunt? Four dogs decide—together! No dog is in charge and every dog’s opinion has a turn to be heard. If we can’t get at least four paws—that is, agreement from four members of the Pack—we won’t move forward with a decision.”