by Erin Hunter
Lucky nodded. “It’s really Martha you should be apologizing to.”
“I will,” Storm assured him as they watched the large black dog bound about with the others.
Lucky turned to Storm, wondering why she was so impulsive and given to rage. The last few days have been tough. Maybe the shock and grief have gotten to her. He softened and his shoulders dropped. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”
Storm licked her chops, still watching the others at play. “I really think we should follow the cliff path back in the direction of the town. Blade has my litter-brother and she’s tried to get me back, even after she killed Wiggle before my eyes. I don’t know what it is that she wants, but I think it’s time we found out. We’re a strong Pack with capable fighters and we can’t keep running forever.”
“You make a good point, Storm. We don’t really know what all this is about, why the Fierce Dogs are so intent on dragging you back. But confronting them would be dangerous.” He lowered his voice. “Not every dog is a born fighter.” Not like us—was that what he was saying? No, that wasn’t what he meant. He eyed the thickset young Fierce Dog. It’s in her blood. But that doesn’t mean that she has to be bad.
Lucky watched the other dogs. They had stopped their crazy prancing and were finally settling down for a nap on the soft-hide. Already the Sun-Dog was bounding low in the sky. Lucky looked up through the shattered clear-stone opening. It was beginning to grow dark.
“Please, Lucky,” whispered Storm.
He turned toward her eager face. “All right,” he murmured. “We’ll rest for the night and you and I can take a look first thing in the morning, before the others wake up. It would be good to know if we’re being followed. But you have to promise that you won’t do anything before checking with me first. No throwing yourself into fights! Promise me.”
Storm lowered her head submissively. “I promise.”
“And you’ll apologize to Martha tonight, before we go.”
Storm raised her eyes. “You sound like a leader with all your orders!” she teased.
Lucky bared his teeth in mock aggression. “Are you going to do what I say or not?” He watched as Storm trotted over to Martha.
“I’m sorry,” Storm began. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
The water-dog sat stiffly. “No, you shouldn’t have,” she said gruffly.
Lucky waited to hear what Storm would say next. He felt the cold, wet touch of a dog’s nose on his ear and smelled a pleasant scent. Sweet sat down next to him and his heart gave a little tremor. He could feel the heat rising from her body.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for us,” she said quietly. “The Four Paws idea is . . . so original.”
Lucky’s whisper was tingled with amusement. “Are you sure you mean that?”
The swift-dog cocked her head. “Well, let’s just see how it goes. It’s worth a try, and if it doesn’t work, we can always choose a leader then.”
Lucky tilted his head at Sweet. She really did want to lead the dogs.
She raised her narrow muzzle. “If one of us became leader, the other could be their second in command.” She pressed her flank next to Lucky’s and for a moment he felt overwhelmed by her warmth and sweet scent.
“We already know you’re great at that,” said Lucky with a playful twitch of his tail. “As long as you unlearn some of those lessons Alpha taught you.”
She turned to him in shock. She must have caught the amused glint in his eye, as she gave his ear a playful nibble. “You’re so cruel,” she murmured, “mocking me like that!” Her tongue tickled the base of Lucky’s ear and he squirmed away. “You can’t escape me that easily!” she play snarled, nibbling harder.
“Is that so?” barked Lucky. Secretly he liked the warmth of her breath, and the way his ear tingled beneath her teeth. He nudged her cheek with his snout. “You wish you could be my Beta!”
“Do not!” she growled, shunting him back. She threw down her forepaws in a play bow. “Oh, great Lucky, how can I serve you? Like this?” She pounced forward and knocked him to the ground, licking his ears. He yipped happily, giving her flank a playful nip. They gamboled about the large room, barking and playing as the others rested. Eventually they collapsed on the wooden floor, panting.
Sweet rolled onto her elegant legs and padded toward the soft-hide, where most of the dogs were already asleep. She sat, and Lucky settled alongside her. He shut his eyes, breathing in her soothing scent.
“Good night, Lucky,” she whispered.
He wriggled closer and she didn’t pull away. He rested his head next to hers. “Good night, Sweet.” With a sigh Lucky fell into contented sleep.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lucky’s body slumped on the snowy ground. He tried to raise his paws, but they were heavy as rocks. He heard desperate barks and saw a mass of fighting dogs. A flurry of dark pelts flew past him and fangs flashed white beneath the Moon-Dog. Dread rippled along his back and the breath snagged in his throat. Through the blizzard, he saw an attack-dog squaring up to two young chase-dogs, spit bubbling at his jaws. A Mother-Dog turned on her pup, sinking her teeth into his neck. Her face was concealed in the twisting snow, but Lucky thought she looked familiar. He tried to cry out—to beg her to stop—but the words would not leave his tongue.
Why was this happening? Lucky struggled against the weight in his limbs, stumbling onto his paws. Icy flakes spun through the air, falling to the ground, where they mingled with streams of blood.
A whirring sound overhead made him look to the sky. Was it one of the giant birds that had carried longpaws over the city? He could hear its wings beating the air. A column of light fell from its body, illuminating the fighting dogs. Lucky was horrified to see the vicious snapping of teeth, the tearing and gouging, the frenzied eyes. This was madness! He threw his head back to howl but no sound came out. Lightning flashed in the sky while thunder shuddered through Lucky’s limbs. The Sky-Dogs were furious, filling the air with a white blizzard. Lucky’s legs buckled beneath him and he sank once more. He could hear his own name, but he couldn’t reply; his jaws seemed webbed together.
Lucky? Lucky?
“Lucky . . . ?”
He opened his eyes, feeling the warm, wet sensation of his muzzle being licked. Sweet was staring into his face. His body ached with tension and his jaw was clenched so hard that a sharp pain ran through it. Another bad dream. He took a deep breath and forced his body to relax. But it felt so real.
“Was I chasing rabbits in my sleep again?” He nuzzled up to Sweet, hoping his casual words would fool her.
She pulled away from him, still staring hard. “No, you weren’t,” she whispered.
Lucky’s hairs prickled along the back of his neck. Had he yelped in his sleep? Had he revealed something of his black dream? He looked around, remembering that they were in the longpaw building. It was dark, lit only by the Moon-Dog, who gazed through the gap where the clear-stone had been. The other dogs were nearby, curled on the soft-hide. Lucky could hear their gentle snores. There was Storm, curled into a tight ball. At least I didn’t wake them.
Sweet’s narrow face was tense. “I saw what was happening,” she murmured. “You were having a terrible dream. Your lips were moving, but you didn’t make a sound, almost as though you couldn’t. But still . . .”
Shame plunged through Lucky. He held his breath, waiting to hear what she would say. Had he revealed something about the Storm of Dogs—the terrible battle?
Sweet glanced over at the sleeping Fierce Dog at the far end of the soft-hide, then turned back to Lucky. “You mouthed the name Storm, over and over. ‘Storm, Storm, Storm.’ You were howling, but silently. Was your dream about her? Lucky, what’s going on?”
Lucky could no longer meet her gaze. He turned, spying the first hint of light creeping through the open door. He would have to leave with Storm soon; he’d promised her they would check up on the Fierce Dogs. He started to stretch and rise to his paws.
He wobbled, surprised to find that his legs were trembling.
Sweet quickly rose, blocking his way. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what your dream was about.” Her tongue lapped at her nose. “Have you had it before? Was it like when you collapsed during the Great Howl? Is it always the same one?”
Lucky wanted to protest, but his resolve drained from his body. I promised myself I’d never lie to her again. He’d known Sweet longer than any other dog in the Pack, except for his litter-sister, Bella. Despite everything that had happened, they were still here, weren’t they? He looked around at the sleeping dogs, some Wild, like Moon and Snap, some Leashed, like Mickey and Bruno. He felt a pang of warmth for these dogs, who had been through so much. If they really were in danger, Sweet should know about it. She might be able to help.
With a sigh, Lucky lowered himself back onto the soft-hide, resting his muzzle on his paws. He remembered his dream and fear washed over him. He started whimpering quietly, no longer able to keep it in.
Sweet settled beside him. “Just start at the beginning,” she whispered.
Over the sound of Martha’s gentle grunts, Lucky quietly told Sweet about the dreams that had started after the Big Growl. “Each one is different, in a way, but the battle is never far off. Sometimes I’m alone, surrounded by ice. Other times, like tonight, there’s snow and wind, with dogs clashing all around. It’s always bitterly cold, and the smell of blood is in the air.”
Sweet shuddered, pressing her body next to his.
Lucky breathed. “The Storm of Dogs.” It was the first time he had said the words out loud. Doing so filled him with panic. What if that makes it real? What if the words bring my dreams to life? He shook his head. Superstitious nonsense. He was surprised to look up and see the fear in Sweet’s eyes.
“I have heard of it.” The swift-dog frowned. “I can’t remember when . . . maybe when I was a pup. There were tales of the Storm of Dogs, a vicious battle, where Lightning and the Spirit Dogs went to war. And now you tell me you’re dreaming of this battle.” She cocked her head. “What does it all mean?”
Lucky’s fur stood on end. “I don’t know, Sweet. But every whisker on my muzzle, every hair along my back, is telling me it’s real—that danger is coming. A battle that will change our lives forever.”
“With the Fierce Dogs?” she asked.
Lucky licked his lips. “It feels bigger than that. Not just a fight against dogs we don’t get along with. It’s a battle for the future.” The smell of blood still stung his nose. “A terrible battle. There will be death.”
Sweet’s ears pricked in alarm. She looked over the sleeping Pack. “Will these dogs be involved?” she whispered. “Will they be okay?”
Lucky pressed his eyes shut, trying to remember. The images from his dreams were indistinct: a shifting white sky, snapping teeth, snatches of fur . . . He whined in frustration. “I just don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Sweet licked his nose. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. If it’s real, if it’s going to happen, I’d rather we were both prepared.” She hesitated, her ears trembling. “Did you tell Storm about these dreams?”
“No,” Lucky said. “She chose the name for herself, after we’d battled Terror. Almost as though she had some sense of what I’d been dreaming.”
“Do you think she knows something about the battle? Should we ask her?”
Lucky looked around, his eyes trailing across Martha’s heavy black frame, over Bella, Mickey, Dart, and Snap. He frowned, rising to his paws. He couldn’t see Storm anywhere.
Sweet followed his gaze. “Where has she gone?”
He swallowed hard, pushing past Sweet, a little rougher than he’d intended. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I have to find her; she’s really just a pup.” She must have gone without me. What if she reaches Blade before I can catch up with her?
Wisps of fog were floating through the doorway as Lucky hurried across the room.
“But where are you going?” whined Sweet.
He padded back to her. “I’m going to find Storm, before she does anything stupid.”
Sweet’s eyes darkened. “She wouldn’t confront Blade, would she? Not alone?”
Lucky’s ears flicked back. “Please don’t tell the others. I don’t want to worry them. I’ll return with Storm as quickly as I can.”
Sweet sighed. “All right. Go, but hurry!”
Lucky nudged her gratefully with his snout before turning and rushing toward the door. He stepped out in the cold, misty air. An arch of dawn light rose over the edge of the cliff. The Sun-Dog was waking up.
Lucky blinked through the mist. He could smell Storm’s fresh scent and followed her trail down toward the abandoned town. Sure enough, it grew stronger as he crept along the cliff top. His chest felt tight and his heart beat quickly. He would have liked to run, but it wasn’t safe this close to the cliff face under deep fog. He shivered as he carefully hopped down the craggy path, listening to the Endless Lake as it pounded the shore below him.
The path dropped steeply and Lucky worked hard to keep his footing. By the time he was nearing the sandy waterfront and the abandoned town, his forelegs were aching from the strain.
The fog grew thinner this close to the water. It felt as though Lucky had walked through a cloud and come out of the other side. He could see the white-capped waves lick the land, and the outskirts of the town with its jumble of sand-coated buildings. His ears pricked. He could hear barking. Creeping low, careful to stay upwind, Lucky drew toward the Fierce Dog camp.
Sniffing hard, he knew that Storm couldn’t be far. A moment later he spotted her crouching behind some shrubs a few dog-lengths away. Lucky slunk closer, hurrying behind a tree. He was almost near enough to Storm to risk whispering to her when he froze, his fur on end. Just up ahead, the Fierce Dogs were in plain sight. They were performing some sort of morning exercise ritual. They stood in organized rows as one dog played with a rabbit, chasing after it and pinning it down with her paw until the creature was finally allowed to wriggle free. Then it was the next attack-dog’s turn to chase and trap the rabbit. Lucky watched as the Fierce Dogs growled and yelped, amused by the terrified rabbit as it hopped in broken circles, trying to get away.
Lucky’s belly tightened. This is horrible! Prey was hunted for food. But killing for sport, torturing an animal like that . . . It was against the laws of the Forest-Dog. It was barbaric—something a sharpclaw would do.
There was a volley of cruel barks as the rabbit stumbled to its paws, turned, and made a break for the shrubs where Storm was hiding. Lucky gasped in terror as two Fierce Dogs sprang to their paws, pounding after it. He shrank back behind the tree, holding his breath. He couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard twigs snap and a high-pitched shriek as the rabbit was caught.
“Look what we have here!” growled one of the Fierce Dogs.
Lucky risked a look around the tree and had to stop himself from crying out in fear. One Fierce Dog held the rabbit by the neck—the other had his teeth locked on Storm.
The Pack crowded around, taunting the young dog with growls and jibes.
“It’s the City Rat’s pet!” snarled one.
“The escaped runt!” put in another.
Storm struggled but couldn’t get free.
The Fierce Dog with the rabbit snapped its neck and tossed it on the ground to an explosion of barks as the Pack descended on the small creature. Lucky could hear crunching bones, snorts, and slurps. A moment later, the Fierce Dogs fell back. All that was left were a few tufts of fur and a gristle of pink meat.
The Fierce Dog who had killed the rabbit took a step toward Storm. His lip peeled back as he snarled at her. “We’ll tear you into even smaller pieces.”
This was too much for Storm, who shook herself violently, broke free, and made for the dog. “Just try it!” she growled.
Lucky was sick with fear. She can’t fight them all!
“If it isn’t the pup called Lick,” hissed Blade, app
earing behind the Pack. Storm froze, her head dropping, as the others fell back. Blade sat, nonchalant. She reached out a tan forepaw and started washing it as Storm snarled and growled at her. Lowering her paw, Blade continued without looking up. “The last time we saw this pup was at the tall longpaw place. She fought ferociously, but it wasn’t enough to save her Alpha, was it?” Her eyes flicked up. “Or did she want the Alpha to fall like that? Imagine that—a dog without a shred of loyalty to her leader.”
Storm howled with anger. “I swore I’d fight you till the day I died if any of my Packmates were hurt! Alpha is dead, and I’m back to take vengeance!” The Fierce Dogs yelped in mirth, mocking her. With a howl of fury, Storm charged at Blade, but two deputies sprang in front of her. Another two snapped at her heels, one catching a hind leg with his teeth.
Why did she have to come here alone? She can’t win against the whole Pack! Lucky was paralyzed, cowering behind the tree as the dogs tossed Storm between them, taking cruel bites at her flanks. Getting involved would be suicide—Lucky knew that—but how could he leave her to this torture? Lucky could scarcely stand to watch. She’s the rabbit now . . . their sport. I have to help her.
He could hardly see her amid the tussle of glossy black-and-tan fur. The fog was also closing in again, prickling Lucky’s nose with its damp touch. He squinted as it tumbled over the Fierce Dogs. There was barking, the snapping of teeth, then a shrill yelp of pain. It was too much to bear! Against his better judgment, Lucky stepped out from behind the tree and crept toward the Fierce Dogs’ camp. He smacked against a bush, cursing beneath his breath, waiting for the worst of the fog to lift.
As the tendrils of fog crept back toward the bank of the Endless Lake, Lucky hurried to the place where the Fierce Dogs had been. He saw the grisly remains of the rabbit, but the Pack had disappeared, and so had Storm. He sniffed the ground. There was something odd by the rabbit’s remains, something familiar . . . a bloody triangle of . . . Lucky gagged. Storm’s ear! The Fierce Dogs had taken her, leaving her soft, felty ear discarded in the dirt. Dizzy with horror, he remembered how they’d tormented the rabbit. Tortured it . . . and killed it.