by Erin Hunter
Storm stiffened and gave a low growl.
Sweet sighed. “Mickey, you are clever. I didn’t know how much to tell you all. Lucky’s right; there’s no point scaring you.”
Moon’s eyes widened. “If you want us to work together, we need to know what’s going on.”
Sweet reached out a pale paw and licked off some dirt. “It is probably for the best . . . if Lucky doesn’t mind?”
Lucky drew in his breath, his tail flicking nervously to his side. He didn’t like the idea of all the dogs knowing so much about his dreams. It made him feel exposed. It isn’t just about you, he told himself sharply. Swallowing back his fear, he dipped his head in agreement. The Pack became quiet, waiting for Sweet to speak.
“Do you remember that night during the Great Howl, when Lucky collapsed?” she began. “He saw images during the Howl, and they overwhelmed him. . . .” Her voice softened. “There have been dreams, too.”
There was a murmur from the assembled dogs, and Lucky sensed them stiffening, their ears pricking up and their tails straight behind them. He didn’t want to look at them directly. He gazed at the distant, broken cliffs, unable to meet the curious looks of the other dogs. What if they think I’m weak? He turned back to watch Sweet from the corner of his eye.
“What sort of dreams?” whined Dart, her voice quivering.
Sweet lowered a slender paw. “He has seen a snowstorm, and a ferocious battle between Packs of dogs.”
“The Storm of Dogs,” murmured Snap, her ears flicking back. “Are you still dreaming about that, Lucky?”
“Like those horrible stories my Mother-Dog told me about long ago,” whimpered Dart. “The Spirit Dogs turned on one another. Lightning fought the Sky-Dogs, Earth-Dog fought River-Dog, back in the Dawn of Time.”
Snap crinkled her nose in concentration. “I remember something too . . . but wasn’t it a fight between dogs, like Sweet said? A fight to the death, where only one Pack was left standing?”
Moon lifted her muzzle authoritatively. “Yes, a battle between Packs.”
The sharp smell of fear-scent caught Lucky’s nose. So many of them have heard about the Storm of Dogs from the stories of their puppyhood. It scares them.
“That’s the trouble,” said Sweet. “Most of us have heard of the Storm of Dogs, but we’re not sure what it means. Lucky’s dreams keep returning to it.”
“They’re just stories, aren’t they?” asked Martha. “Tales that Mother-Dogs tell their pups to stop them being naughty. ‘Don’t fight, pups, the Spirit Dogs are watching. You don’t want to bring on the Storm of Dogs.’ That sort of thing.”
“I thought so too,” said Sweet. “But now I’m not so sure. . . . When Lucky was trapped with the Fierce Dogs, Blade told him something . . . something incredible.”
Lucky risked a look around the Pack. The dogs were stiff with tension.
Sweet licked her lips. “Blade said that she had seen a vision of fighting dogs . . . and it matched the images Lucky had seen in his dreams.”
There were gasps from the Pack. Sweet cleared her throat and went on.
“Lucky didn’t share his visions with Blade. He stayed quiet, which was the right thing to do. Blade told him that Earth-Dog growled because she was angry, and that she will growl again and destroy the world. And that there is only one way to stop her.”
No dog spoke. Their fear-scent still drifted on the air.
It was Storm who broke the silence. “This is because of me, isn’t it? I always thought Blade killed Wiggle because she thought he was weak, and maybe she wanted us dead because she hated our Mother-Dog, some old fight or something. Then I thought she must be mad because I escaped her Pack. But everything you say . . . is that why she killed Fang? Why she wants to kill me? Because she thinks—” Storm’s voice rose. “She thinks I’ll cause the Storm of Dogs?”
Sweet hesitated, and Lucky finally spoke. “Yes, Storm. She believes that pups born to her Pack after the Big Growl will bring about the Storm of Dogs and the final Growl. That’s why she killed Wiggle when she discovered you’d survived being abandoned. Fang only survived as long as he did because she was trying to use him to catch you.”
Storm’s muzzle wrinkled with sorrow at the mention of her littermates.
Mickey’s whiskers flexed, and he gave a long whine. “And the pup . . . the one we found in the Dog-Garden?” He gave Storm a quick look.
“That was Blade’s own pup,” Lucky said quietly.
Sweet thumped the damp earth with her forepaw. “Which means she’s serious. If she’s prepared to kill her own pup to save herself or her Pack, or dogs in general—whatever it is she believes she’s saving—she’ll stop at nothing to kill Storm. That’s why Blade captured Lucky—to get to Storm. We only escaped because Earth-Dog trembled. Once Blade thought she had Storm in her grasp, she killed Fang without any remorse. Whatever else you could say about him, he was loyal to her. No dog can deny that. I watched her tear that pup apart with my own eyes.”
It was a while before any dog spoke.
Finally Moon crept forward, her black ears folded back. “If Blade’s coming after us, we should run. She’s even got our old Alpha on her side.” The Farm Dog shuddered. “We’re completely outnumbered, and we’ve lost enough Packmates already. We can’t hope to fight all those Fierce Dogs. Running is our only option.”
“Running where?” said Mickey. “She’ll find us . . . you know she will.”
“But we can’t just stay here and wait for Blade to come. There are pups among us.” Moon’s eyes widened as she looked to Beetle and Thorn.
Thorn stamped a black forepaw on the grass. “We’re not pups anymore. We can fight, just like Storm! She taught us how.”
“No!” growled Moon. Her blue eyes flashed dangerously. “I’m not losing another pup!”
Lucky ran his tongue over his nose uncertainly. Mickey’s right. If we leave now, Blade will follow us. We’ll never get away from her. It was his litter-sister Bella who spoke next.
“I don’t think we should run,” she said firmly. “There are pups among us, and older dogs . . . and we can’t run forever. Sooner or later, the Fierce Dogs would catch us. Better to confront them while we are well fed and rested than have them creep up on us.”
“We won’t slow any dog down!” Thorn protested, and the Pack burst into a series of barks, with some dogs siding with Moon and others with Mickey.
Whine squeezed forward and cleared his throat. “There is another way.”
“Another way?” echoed Dart. “What’s that, Whine?”
The dogs quieted down, waiting for the little black squash-faced dog to speak.
Whine panted, his pink tongue lolling from his mouth. “We can’t fight Blade, and we can’t run away. The solution is obvious: We give her what she wants.”
Lucky and Mickey snarled with disgust, but Whine raised his voice to speak over it. “There’s no point being all honorable about an attack-dog—as the Sun-Dog rises and sets, she’s a Fierce Dog and always will be. She’s violent and untrustworthy. She wasn’t born to the Pack, and no Pack Dog should die protecting her. We don’t owe her anything.”
Lucky bristled with rage. How dare Whine accuse Storm of being untrustworthy when he’s the nastiest, sneakiest dog around? He expected protests from the Pack, but some of them had grown silent again, considering the small dog’s words. Snap’s head was cocked, her ears lowered. Moon gnawed absently at a forepaw.
Lucky looked to Storm, worried she would launch an attack on Whine. But instead of rising to anger, she had lowered her head sadly. She huddled into herself, looking more like a lost puppy than a ferocious attack-dog.
Whine carried on, unapologetic. “We’ve worked so hard to avoid the Fierce Dogs. Who can say how far we’ve walked? They always find us, wherever we are. Should we really be risking our lives for an outsider?” His eyes bulged as they shifted between the dogs, and his voice became louder and shrill with excitement. “And what if Blade is right—her visions don’t sound so di
fferent from Lucky’s, and we believed him.”
Something snapped inside Lucky, and he sprang at the stout little dog, throwing him onto the ground and pinning him down by the throat with a furious growl. “How dare you! Storm has proven her loyalty many times over, while you . . . you have shown how quick you are to judge, and to betray. No dog with a shred of honor would suggest such a thing! I should march you over the cliff right now to teach you a lesson, you rotten little rat!”
Whine trembled beneath Lucky’s grip. “It was just an idea!” he spluttered.
“Beta,” said Sweet gently. “It’s a filthy idea, and typical of Whine’s cowardice—but he’s allowed to express it.”
Reluctantly Lucky pulled back, and Whine scuttled to cower behind Bruno.
“We can’t even think about handing Storm over like that,” said Martha, padding to the young Fierce Dog’s side. “Storm has always shown her dedication to the Pack, even fighting her way back to us when Blade captured her. And she didn’t give in during the Trial of Rage—she fought her litter-brother fairly and proved that she could rise above her former Pack.” Martha licked Storm’s ears tenderly. “We are fortunate to have her.”
Storm pressed against Martha, burying her muzzle in the great dog’s shaggy black coat. Lucky felt affection spring from his fur. There had been a coldness between the two dogs for a while after they had fought about whether to confront the Fierce Dogs, but the rift had healed.
Moon spoke from the other side of the circle of dogs. “Storm risked her life to rescue Fiery. I know we couldn’t save him in the end, but that wasn’t her fault . . . it wasn’t any dog’s fault.”
“She tried to help our Father-Dog!” yipped Thorn.
“She’s part of the Pack,” Beetle added.
Daisy spoke up too. “I can’t imagine it here without her . . . we’re not going to just give her over to the Fierce Dogs, are we? That wouldn’t be true to our dog-spirits. We aren’t foxes or sharpclaws!”
Lucky cast his eyes around the Pack. Some of the dogs who hadn’t spoken looked pensive and uneasy. He noticed that Dart was gazing out toward the broken cliffs, and Bruno wouldn’t meet his eye.
Whine shuffled forward, apparently unscathed by his brief tussle with Lucky. He pressed one forepaw into the mud beside the pond and raised his gaze to meet Lucky’s, his eyes bulging. “Do you recognize your own idea?” he taunted. “The rule of Four Paws. If three other dogs join me, they’ll be voting for turning Storm over to the Fierce Dogs and freeing ourselves from this terrible threat forever. They’ll be voting for a new time of peace—no more running, no more fights. The other dogs would have to listen to us—why, it’s our Beta’s own rules.”
Sweet rose to her full height, and Whine flinched but kept his paw firmly pressed in the mud.
“Should I remind you that I’m your Alpha?” she snarled. “You don’t get to make decisions.”
“Of course you are, and we respect you,” he panted, dipping his head in an insincere show of deference. “But is our new Alpha afraid to hear the counsel of her Pack? Would you undermine your own Beta by ignoring his brilliant means for coming to decisions?”
The swift-dog wrinkled her muzzle, her ears twitching pensively.
Don’t allow it, Sweet, Lucky silently willed. Ignore the cunning little rat—it isn’t fair to Storm! He knew better than to speak out at this stage—it was important for Sweet to show her strength as a decision maker in front of her Pack. They all waited as she took a step forward and looked about.
Sweet took a deep breath. “Very well,” she said coolly. “You can have your vote. If any other dog wishes to abandon their Packmate, let him or her speak now.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lucky could feel the tension bearing down on him. The air was so silent that he could hear the wind rippling over the pond and an insect buzz toward the valley. Then Dart stepped forward on her skinny legs, hesitated, and pressed a paw next to Whine’s.
Lucky smarted, grinding his teeth.
“I’m sorry, Beta,” murmured the chase-dog. “But I’ve never believed that a Fierce Dog belongs with us. It’s nothing personal, she’s just . . . different. She should be with her own Pack. Let them decide her future.”
Lucky suppressed a growl of disgust. He was about to speak when he heard a heavy footfall and looked across the circle of dogs to see Bruno moving forward. The old dog ran a tongue over his dark muzzle before thumping his paw down next to Dart’s.
“Storm is a member of our Pack!” Lucky barked, feeling betrayed.
Bruno gave a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Lucky. I don’t want to turn the pup over to be killed. But sometimes tough decisions need to be made for the greater good. If Storm’s departure means that Blade leaves us alone, or if there’s a chance that it stops this ‘Storm of Dogs,’ then it’s the right thing to do for the greater good.” He sniffed, looking shamefaced despite his words. “We need to drive Storm out of the Pack now, before it’s too late—let her take the chase with her.”
Lucky growled and hurried to Storm’s side, pressing close to her so that the young dog was flanked by him and Martha. He lowered his head and raised his haunches. Martha did the same, her top lip curling to reveal a row of white teeth. They glared at the rest of the Pack. The message was clear. Any dog who wants to force Storm out will have to go through us.
Silence fell over the Pack. Whine, Dart, and Bruno stayed where they were, their paws in the mud, as Lucky threw his challenging gaze on the other dogs. It would take only one more to pass a decision according to his own Four Paws method. I don’t care if I came up with Four Paws. I’m not letting any dog push Storm out of the Pack! He held his breath, and time seemed to still. Then he heard the scuffle of a paw, and his heart lurched in his chest. Someone was coming forward! With a wince of surprise, he saw it was Sweet.
The swift-dog stepped in front of Whine and stopped. “Enough!” she snapped. “I have heard the counsel of my Pack, and I see that even among so many of us there is little appetite for your dishonorable plan—most of the dogs agree with my decision. Storm stays with us, and we will defend her.”
Relief washed over Lucky, and for a moment he felt giddy with gratitude. Of course Sweet would never let me down.
Martha gave a rumbling bark of approval, and Storm’s tail flicked briefly. Whine slunk away and Dart shrank back. Bruno shook his head and went to sit a short distance from the others, licking the mud from his forepaw. Lucky sighed, his eyes trailing over the assembled dogs. Moon blinked, resting her head on Beetle’s brow. Snap leaned against Mickey’s flank. Most of the dogs look happier, he realized. Sweet’s leadership has made them more at ease.
“What will we do?” asked Snap. “We know Blade will come for Storm, and it won’t take her long. She’ll take the recent Growl as a sign of Earth-Dog’s anger.”
It was Bella who spoke up. “Until now, we’ve either run away or hidden deep within camp—we’ve let Blade make all the decisions, and we’ve stayed on the back paw.”
“What do you suggest?” Sweet asked her.
Lucky watched curiously. Bella’s eyes were sparkling, just as they had as a pup when she was up to something. “We need to catch Blade unawares. I have a plan.” She looked about the Pack. “We will offer Blade a deal: The Fierce Dog Alpha can fight a battle for Storm’s life, by the frozen river—but it will be a straight fight between Storm and Blade, and Blade must come alone.”
A growl rumbled in Storm’s throat. “I would gladly fight her. For my litter-brothers . . . for my Pack.” She raised her muzzle proudly.
Lucky’s body tensed, and he turned to her. “But you only came into your adult name recently, and Blade’s much larger than you—and more experienced.” He looked to Bella. “Anyway, I doubt Blade would play fair. Her whole Pack would come with her.” His whiskers flexed. There was a new dampness in the air. Gray clouds were grouping overhead, and a cold drop of rain fell on Lucky’s nose.
“Beta’s right.” Sweet nodded. “
Blade won’t come alone.”
Bella’s tail gave a triumphant wag. “Of course she won’t! Lucky, do you remember the place we passed when we were following the Wild Pack’s trail toward the Endless Lake? Where the grass began to disappear and the ground became sandy? There was a place on the riverbank where we found ourselves on a thin path between the river on one side and tall rocks on the other.”
Moon cocked her head. “I know where you mean. The point where the air was getting salty, before we actually caught sight of the Endless Lake? It was a horrible place—so windy and remote.”
Lucky remembered it too, though only vaguely. “It’s quite a distance from here.”
“Less than a day’s walk,” Bella replied. “And wouldn’t it make a good spot for an ambush? We could tell Blade to meet Storm there, then hide behind the rocks and attack when the Fierce Dogs pass below. We would be coming from above and have the advantage. If we can isolate the leaders . . . What are Blade’s deputies’ names?”
Lucky remembered the two muscular Fierce Dogs who were always at their Alpha’s side. “Mace and Dagger,” he spat.
“That’s right.” Bella thumped down her paw. “If we can isolate them—”
“I’ve had enough of this!” Whine interrupted. “This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. Everything would have been fine if you’d just pushed Storm out of the Pack. She’s never belonged here.” He glared at Sweet defiantly. “If you insist on fighting for Storm’s life, I’m leaving. I’m not sticking around to be slaughtered by Fierce Dogs!”
Sweet’s muzzle curled with distaste. “You always were a little coward,” she snarled. “All you do is complain, and you’re sly. . . . If you want to leave, be my guest. Go now!” She threw a challenging glare at the rest of the Pack. “That goes for any other dog who wants to go. You won’t be forced to stay.” Her gaze lingered on Dart and Bruno.
Bruno raised his eyes to look back at her, his bushy tail sinking between his legs. “I was worried about keeping Storm in the Pack—worried about what it meant for the other dogs—but you have made a decision, and you are our Alpha. I respect that decision. This is my Pack. I don’t want to leave.”