The Endless Lake

by Erin Hunter

  Lucky found that he was panting, his tongue lolling out, as he waited for the other dogs’ jubilant reactions. Couldn’t they appreciate the sense of what he said? Why did they all have to rely on one dog’s decisions? But the dogs leaned back on their haunches, some of them pretending to scratch an itch.

  Lucky sighed, sitting heavily. Sometimes talking to these dogs felt like chasing a loudcage—impossible, and pointless! He tried to keep his patience, looking until he spotted a line of gravel that wound along the cliff top. “You see the route there? Shall we see where it leads?” The dogs followed his gaze to the gravel path, then turned back to Lucky. “I think we should.” He planted a forepaw firmly on the ground. “I vote yes! Now I just need three other dogs to do the same thing, and we have a decision.”

  Most of the Pack still looked confused, but Dart nodded with understanding. She took a last look at the gravel path with a yelp. “Me too!” She placed a paw beside Lucky’s. “We can’t stay here till nightfall, not when the Fierce Dogs are near. I say yes, we follow the path!”

  “Yes!” grunted Martha, thumping down her huge black paw. She met Lucky’s eye, her bushy tail swishing. “So I’m helping to make a decision?”

  “Exactly.” Lucky was relieved that Dart and Martha had caught on so quickly. The other dogs were looking less confused. “We just need one more dog to lend a paw and we’ll have made a decision without needing a leader. How great is that?”

  A growl made his whiskers bristle. Moon stalked around Dart and Martha, her haunches low. “Alpha always made our decisions for us. He didn’t need anyone else. It was easier that way.”

  Lucky remembered times when Alpha had failed to make decisions—when the wolf-dog had lost his confidence. He was terrified of the black cloud. He couldn’t cope at all. But it felt disrespectful to say this so soon after Alpha’s death. “He isn’t here anymore,” Lucky pointed out instead.

  “You’re here, though,” whined Sunshine, unable to contain herself. “Lucky, why can’t you decide for us?”

  “It would be easier,” Snap agreed. “The Four Paws thing might be difficult if we are in a hurry.”

  Lucky peered into the darkening clouds. The Sky-Dogs were prancing overhead, releasing drops of rain. They fell more quickly now, tumbling over Lucky’s coat. The Pack needed to get going. “Yes, it would be easier if I made all the decisions.” Lucky met Snap’s eye. “Easier for you. But do you want to be led by the nose all your life, as though you were living with longpaws, like a Leashed Dog?” He turned to give Sunshine a hard look. “Is that what you’ve fought and survived for—to let others boss you around? You want me to tell you what to think, what to eat, when to sleep, when to wake up? Even if it means you hardly eat at all? Even if you sleep in the draft and wake up freezing cold?”

  “Dogs of rank eat well,” Moon whined defensively.

  “Dogs of rank should know better,” snapped Lucky, losing his patience. The rain was pattering on his head and his pelt was damp. “You want to be someone’s servant? How boring for you! But fine, I can do that if you want me to. I can make all the choices. I can decide for you, for Thorn, for Beetle, for the whole Pack—if that’s what you want.”

  Moon’s cool blue eyes darted to her pups, then rested on Martha’s, Lucky’s, and Dart’s forepaws, still pressed close together in the dirt. The Farm Dog gave a reluctant shake. Then she stepped forward, lowering a white paw alongside Lucky’s. “I think we should follow the gravel path,” she murmured.

  Lucky barked in delight. “We have a decision!” He sprang excitedly, butting Moon with his muzzle, his tail thrashing the air. “We follow that gravel route and see where it takes us. Hopefully to somewhere warm and dry with lots of food, where the Fierce Dogs can’t find us!”

  Moon barked in agreement, her tail starting to wag too. “We made our own decision!”

  “You see, it feels good,” he whined as he licked the soft fur at her neck.

  Sunshine was cheering up. “We can make decisions for ourselves! We don’t need an Alpha!” she yipped, as though the thought had only just dawned on her.

  One step at a time, thought Lucky, starting toward the gravel path. We’ll get there in the end. It wasn’t just that he wanted to avoid a leadership role; he wanted the dogs to think for themselves. That’s the only thing that will save us, he thought. Quick wits and sharp minds. The Fierce Dogs were bullies, but Lucky knew his dogs could be better. They could be clever.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The dogs trotted over the gravel path. Lucky held back, careful not to lead them. Moon’s tail wagged as she paced ahead with Beetle and Thorn at her side. Mickey gave a cheerful yip and nudged Martha’s flank.

  “The world is so big,” said the Farm Dog. “Did you ever imagine there was all this in it, back when you were a Leashed Dog?” He looked about and Lucky saw his black-and-white snout in profile. “I never even saw much of the city back then. Since the Big Growl I’ve seen forests, lakes, places where the grass grows as high as your head, or where sand covers the Earth-Dog so there’s no trace of her brown fur.”

  “I didn’t imagine it,” replied Martha. “How could I? My longpaws took me out of the city now and then. We would travel in their loudcage for a long time. I couldn’t see where we were going because they locked me in the back.”

  “That sounds scary,” whined Dart, who had overheard. “I’d never climb in one of those things.”

  “I got used to it,” said Martha. “We’d end up in nice places, like a big yard with trees and a stream. They would let me run off the leash, which never happened in the city. It was worth putting up with the loudcage for that.”

  Padding behind them, Lucky couldn’t see Dart’s face, but he caught the mournful tone of her voice. “I couldn’t bear to be on a leash all the time. . . .”

  “Neither could I,” said Martha. “Not anymore.”

  Lucky fell back. He felt a deep satisfaction that the dogs were getting on so well, despite their recent difficulties. Alpha was gone but they would survive, helping one another. We don’t need anyone to lead us. He felt lighter on his paws as he followed the gentle incline of the gravel path. It led away from the cliff face, curving inland, where low shrubs offered some protection from the wind. The clouds hung over the Endless Lake and it was drier here. We made the right decision, and we made it together.

  Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t see Sunshine until he was whiskers away from her, and only just stopped himself from bumping into her. Lucky realized that the other dogs had stopped not far ahead.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, his ears pricked.

  He could see Sweet and Bella talking up ahead. His litter-sister called over to him.

  “The trail splits. We don’t know which way to go.”

  Lucky approached her. Sure enough, the gravel path forked, with one side veering up toward the edge of the cliff while the other cut deeper inland. Lucky glanced along the cliff path with a shiver, thinking of the sharp wind and the rain that hung over the water. We should go inland, away from all that. He pictured Alpha’s terrified face as the great dog fell into the Endless Lake, and Spring’s floating body, one ear resting over her eye. He would have liked to get away from the memories too.

  Bella was watching him intently. “What should we do?”

  Lucky opened his mouth, then shut it again. No. I won’t tell them what to do—that would make me their Alpha.

  After a moment of silence, little Sunshine piped up. “Let’s move away from here. I’ve had enough of that stinky river grass! And the Sky-Dogs are always raining over the Endless Lake. Maybe that’s where all that water comes from. It looks better through the shrubs. Drier!”

  Storm stepped in front of her, addressing the Pack. “Who cares about a bit of rain? We should turn back along the cliff toward the abandoned town.”

  “But the Fierce Dogs are down there!” whined Dart.

  “Exactly! I, for one, am sick of running from them. They won’t expect us to go b
ack there. We could creep up on them and take them by surprise.”

  That’s a terrible idea, thought Lucky, but he stayed quiet. Let them come to their own decision.

  “So that’s my vote,” Storm continued. “We follow the cliff until we reach the town.” She slammed her paw on the gravel. “I just need three more dogs. Who’s with me?”

  Moon howled in protest. “Back toward the Fierce Dogs? Have you lost your mind?”

  Mickey’s brown eyes widened. “Why would we face off with them when we don’t need to?”

  “Because I’m sick of running away!” Storm growled. “If they hadn’t attacked, Alpha would still be alive. We should avenge him!”

  Lucky could hardly stop himself from growling at her. Storm hated Alpha. She had a chance of saving him, but ignored his cries. She can’t possibly care about avenging his death. This is just an excuse to fight Blade!

  Fortunately he wasn’t the only one to balk at Storm’s words. Martha sat down heavily, her jowls trembling. “You’re being a silly pup!” she rebuked. “You haven’t given a thought to the danger we’d be in. Mickey’s right: There’s no reason to fight those savage attack-dogs when we don’t need to.”

  The young dog bristled, her hackles rising and her eyes flashing. “My brother is with those savage attack-dogs,” she snarled. “Don’t you remember how he protected us from the rest of his Pack? He isn’t completely lost to us! Don’t you care about getting him away from Blade?”

  Squash-faced Whine muttered beneath his breath. “Her litter-brother was no great loss to the Pack. Maybe Alpha was right and Storm should go to the Fierce Dogs—by herself.” His bulging eyes roved over the dogs. “It’s where she belongs.” He put his small forepaw on the gravel and waited for three other dogs to agree with him.

  “You disgusting rat!” howled Storm, and she lunged at Whine, her teeth bared. Lucky’s breath caught in his throat. She could rip his head off!

  Martha leaped in front of Whine, knocking Storm aside. The young Fierce Dog tumbled against a shrub in a flurry of small leaves. Whine shrank behind Sweet, his flanks quivering in terror.

  Storm scrambled to her paws, shaking the leaves from her fur. She barked furiously. “How dare you, Martha? How dare you!”

  To Lucky’s amazement, she charged at the water-dog. She scrambled under Martha’s belly, spun around, and sprang at her back. Her foreclaws raked Martha’s shoulders.

  Sunshine started yapping in fear. The rest of the Pack watched in shock as Storm snapped at Martha’s ears.

  The water-dog yelped, trying to shake Storm off, but the Fierce Dog locked her paws around her neck. It was hard to tell how deep Storm’s nips went in Martha’s thick black fur. The young dog was wild-eyed and looked angry enough to cause real harm. Martha tried again to shrug her off, but Storm just dug in deeper. Then Martha threw back her head, rising onto her hindpaws. With a massive heave of her body she bucked Storm off her back. The Fierce Dog fell to the ground, leaping onto her paws and pressing back—preparing to pounce at Martha again. Martha sprang away with a shocked growl as Storm charged, breaking through a wall of shrubs and heading straight for the edge of the cliff.

  “Storm, no!” barked Lucky.

  The young Fierce Dog howled with dread as she realized she was heading to the cliff face. She scrambled desperately, but she was going too fast to stop. One forepaw slid off the rocks, sending pebbles hurtling down toward the Endless Lake. Lucky sprang toward her, grasping her neck fur with his teeth and dragging her inland. He thrust Storm into a gorse bush and dropped his head, panting for breath. He couldn’t bear to look at her.

  There were anxious murmurs from the Pack, but no dog moved. Eventually the gorse bush shook and Storm climbed out. Her head was lowered and her tail slunk behind her, but her eyes still glowered as she passed Martha to sit by Lucky’s side.

  “By the Spirit Dogs, what were you thinking?” he snapped. “Martha is practically your Mother-Dog; she’s done nothing but support and protect you from the start. How could you attack her like that?” His voice trembled with anger and his flanks quivered from the shock. He looked back over the cliff, trying not to think of what had almost happened. Does she realize she nearly fell to her death? The fog was creeping toward them. Lucky scanned the scrubby land, then turned back toward the cliff. Where the gravel path forked left, he could see a faded white wall up ahead—what looked like part of an abandoned longpaw building.

  “Let’s go over there to rest and decide what to do,” he said. The dogs yapped their agreement and Lucky started treading toward the building, at the head of the Pack despite his resolve to let them lead themselves. He heard a scrabbling sound and Storm appeared alongside him, strutting in front of the line of dogs. Her nose was proudly raised and her ears were pricked.

  Lucky could hardly believe it. Why is she looking so smug? Then he realized. The longpaw place is in the direction she wanted to go. Anger gathered at Lucky’s belly and crept up his throat. It was all he could do not to nip her around the ears. Foolish dog! She hadn’t listened to a word he’d said.

  He took a deep breath, too angry to confront her. He was also aware of how close they had come to the edge of the cliff. A wood-and-wire fence ran along it by the stretch of scrub nearest to the longpaw building. Some of this had fallen away, revealing a steep drop down to the Endless Lake. It had probably been damaged in the Big Growl. This thought made Lucky consider the building more carefully. Was it safe? There were thin cracks running along the wall, and the clear-stone lookouts had shattered, but it seemed less damaged than the houses in the city. The door had fallen open.

  “Should we go inside?” one of the dogs asked, but Lucky was already tentatively padding through the opening.

  It led into a large, empty room full of seats that had fallen on their sides, and long wooden platforms on legs—the kind that longpaws ate their meals off in the Food House, back in the city. But if there had been food here once, it had gone a long time ago. Lucky sniffed, disappointed but not surprised. Still, the worn wooden floorboards were dry under his paw pads and it was warmer inside, protected from the icy wind and driving fog.

  “A soft-hide!” yipped Daisy, squeezing past him and hurrying toward a fuzzy pelt at the far end of the room. “Like the ones the longpaws had in their houses! It’s so comfy and warm.”

  The dogs followed her, gathering on the soft-hide. Lucky sighed as his paws sank into the spongy fabric, feeling cozy and warm for the first time since leaving the old camp on the rescue mission to find Fiery. Moon started washing Beetle and Thorn as Mickey licked Martha’s ear, doing his best to comfort his friend, who still looked upset from the skirmish with Storm.

  Little Sunshine cleared her throat. “The cliffs are dangerous. It would be so easy for one of us to lose our footing.” She lowered her eyes, avoiding Storm’s hard gaze. “And it’s colder by the cliff face, without anything to eat.” She took a deep breath and raised her gaze. “I still think we should take the route that goes inland.” She placed a dirty white paw on the soft-hide ahead of her. “What do you all think?”

  Martha placed her huge webbed paw next to Sunshine’s. It was almost as large as Sunshine’s head. “You are absolutely right,” said the water-dog, catching Storm with an icy glare. Sunshine’s curled-back tail wagged eagerly, and Lucky felt a wave of affection for the little dog. She’s not used to hearing anyone agree with her, he thought.

  There was hesitation among the other dogs, who exchanged curious glances. Beetle whispered something to Thorn and the young dogs stepped forward, placing their paws down on the soft-hide.

  Moon’s ears flattened. “You’re only pups; you can’t do that.” She beckoned them away, but Lucky interrupted.

  “Every dog gets to make their own choice. We all have the right to be heard, every last one of us.”

  “The fog is horrible,” yipped Thorn. “It’s dangerous and really cold. We think it would be safer to go the other way, and Beetle thought he smelled rabbit.”

>   Beetle nodded and Thorn pressed her forepaw harder on the soft-hide.

  “That settles it,” said Lucky. “We’ll take the route that leads inland, once this fog has disappeared. We won’t even be able to see the gravel path soon; it’s too dangerous to be out there now. We should take the opportunity to rest.”

  Thorn and Beetle yipped excitedly, clearly proud that they had contributed to a decision. Sunshine also panted with satisfaction as she padded back and forth, her frothy tail jerking cheerfully.

  Martha climbed to her paws with a yawn and walked toward a long piece of raised wood. “There’s something up here,” she murmured.

  “Something we can eat?” asked Bella, trotting after her.

  Martha frowned. “I’m not sure.” She threw her forepaws onto the wooden ledge. It tipped under her weight and a large, clear object rolled off, bouncing onto the floor. Small white balls scattered over the ground. Martha lapped a couple up with her large pink tongue. “Mmm . . .”

  The dogs pranced after the white balls, snapping them up in their teeth. Lucky sniffed one. It was sweet and nutty. He gulped it down with a grimace. Too sweet. He watched as the other dogs wolfed them down. Soon Snap was zipping around the room, bumping into the longpaw seats and yipping. Beetle and Thorn bounded after her and Daisy hopped on the spot.

  What’s wrong with them? thought Lucky. The sweet pellets had filled them with energy. So much for resting. He had to admit it was funny. He watched as the dogs pranced around him. Then Storm sidled up and stood hesitantly by his side. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

  Lucky stiffened. “You aren’t just saying that to get out of trouble, are you?”

  Storm looked offended. “Of course not. I know I shouldn’t have gotten angry; it was wrong of me.”