by Erin Hunter
Lucky held his breath. If Twitch refused them now, they wouldn’t have the numbers to fight Blade. He shuddered. How long will the Pack keep defending Storm when the Fierce Dogs appear?
“I’m sorry, Sweet,” said Twitch, his voice quiet but resolute. “I want to help you, but I am the Alpha of this Pack. It isn’t a position I’d ever anticipated, and it isn’t one I chose for myself. But as their Alpha, I won’t bring my Pack into danger lightly. They suffered a lot under Terror. Since his death, we’ve had a peaceful time where the dogs have been able to recover. Some are still nervous, damaged by Terror’s brutality. It wouldn’t be right to ask them to fight—and it isn’t our fight to have.”
Lucky’s heart sank. “Couldn’t you ask them to choose? Those who want to fight to protect Storm can—the others who aren’t up to fighting could stay behind in the forest.”
Twitch gave Lucky a sideways look. “You obviously don’t know my Pack very well.”
“What do you mean?”
Twitch hopped off the trunk and made his way between the trees. “Come and see.”
Lucky and Sweet jumped after him, and the three dogs returned to their Packs. While the Wild Pack turned lazily to see their Alpha and Beta, looking untroubled, Twitch’s Pack sprang to attention, their bodies lowered and heads dipped submissively. The dogs surrounded Twitch, awaiting instruction.
He lifted his muzzle. “Lie down on your backs and show your bellies!”
To Lucky’s amazement, all seven dogs fell to the ground and rolled onto their backs, exposing their bellies. The Wild Pack watched them, exchanging surprised looks.
“Back onto your paws,” Twitch ordered, and his Pack immediately complied. He turned to Sweet. “My dogs aren’t used to thinking for themselves.”
Lucky ran his tongue over his nose. A memory of Terror returned to him—the crazy Alpha had abused his Pack, forcing them to cower before him. Those bullied, terrified dogs had hardly dared to breathe without his command. Twitch was right—they weren’t used to questioning authority.
Twitch blinked apologetically at Sweet. “If it was just me, I would join you, but I have to think of my Pack now. If I ask them to fight, they will fight—to the death. I don’t think it’s the right thing to do. It isn’t fair on them.”
Lucky couldn’t keep the whine from his voice. “But you heard what Sweet told you. Blade has sworn not to stop until Storm is dead.”
Storm thumped a tan paw on the ground. “No, Twitch is right. It isn’t their fight, Lucky. I don’t expect any dogs to risk their lives for me.”
“I’m sorry,” said Twitch. “If I could help, I would. But my Pack has already suffered enough.”
All at once, several dogs began speaking, as Lucky tried to tell Storm that they would still defeat Blade, and Twitch insisted that they couldn’t help.
A small but determined voice rose over the yelps. “Alpha . . . what if we want to fight?”
The other dogs fell silent as Whisper padded nervously toward Twitch. “I know your decision is final, and you are wise and must be obeyed. But I just thought, well, Storm saved us from Terror. And again, today, she helped to rescue me from the giantfur.” He risked a glance at the young Fierce Dog. “She is courageous and good. If she is in danger, I want to fight to protect her.”
Hope swelled in Lucky’s chest. He was about to turn to Twitch to see what the Pack leader thought when he heard the crunching of foliage and a small wiry-furred black dog stepped forward, stopping at Whisper’s side. Lucky recognized him as Splash.
“What is it, Beta?” Twitch asked.
Splash lowered his head. “I would fight for her too, if you allow it, Alpha. Terror ruined our lives. It is thanks to this young Fierce Dog that we are free from him.”
There was a murmur of agreement from the forest dogs. A small ginger-furred dog yapped and wagged her tail furiously, her eyes bright. “We’ll do as our Alpha orders, but I agree with Splash. I want to help Storm.”
“Thank you for speaking up, Chase.” Twitch glanced at Sweet and Lucky before turning to address them. “It seems to me that some of you are keen to show your gratitude to Storm. Rake, Woody, Breeze? Omega? What do you say?”
As he spoke, the four remaining dogs of his Pack stepped forward one after the other and stood to attention.
“We’ll go where you lead, Alpha,” said one, a scrawny male with wiry fur and a network of long white scars across his muzzle. “But we’re ready to fight. We can never repay what Storm and these other dogs did for us.” The stocky brown male beside him nodded.
“Yes,” said the small black female Omega, in a voice no louder than a mouse’s squeak.
“It would be an honor to fight beside the dogs who defeated Terror,” said the last dog, a small brown female with large ears and short fur, meeting Lucky’s eyes for a long moment before bowing her head respectfully.
“Thank you, Breeze. Very well. I would not have asked you to fight for another Pack, but if you fight willingly, we can join them.” He glanced at Sweet and Lucky, who wagged their tails gratefully. Then he turned back to address his Pack, raising his voice, his head high and his bark commanding. “We will not leave our friends to battle the Fierce Dogs alone. We will fight alongside Sweet’s Pack, to protect Storm and for the good of all dogs.”
His Pack howled their agreement, and Storm turned to Martha with glittering eyes. The black dog licked her on the nose and murmured something that Lucky couldn’t hear. He sighed with deep relief as the two Packs pranced and yapped excitedly. Sunshine spun in tight circles, and Daisy bounded up to Whisper and nudged his muzzle with her own, her short tail thrashing.
As the Sun-Dog started sinking between the trees, the Packs squeezed through the thickets of tangled hedges to the base of the rocky outcrop. It was here, hidden behind the rocks, that they would wait to ambush the Fierce Dogs. Snap and Moon clambered over the hardstone, looking for the best points from which to launch an attack and discussing strategy with Twitch’s dogs.
Sweet, Lucky, and Bella joined Twitch and Splash beneath a moss-covered tree to talk through the next move.
“Someone has to go and challenge Blade to a one-on-one fight with Storm,” said Sweet.
“It needs to be a member of our Pack,” Bella pointed out. “Blade can’t know that we’ve teamed up with Twitch.”
“Are you sure she’ll come?” Twitch asked.
Lucky’s voice was somber. “Blade will come. She’s desperate to get her paws on Storm.”
Overhearing her name, Storm approached. “Do you think I should go? Won’t it look strange if some other dog challenges Blade for me?”
“No!” barked Lucky, Sweet, and Twitch in unison.
Sweet was emphatic. “Even if we all went to the Fierce Dogs together, you wouldn’t be able to come. Blade might decide to attack you there, and it would spoil our plan. We have to lure her out to the rocks, where her Pack will be more vulnerable.”
Storm nodded, though she still looked ready to argue the point.
Lucky spoke quickly. “I could take the message. I’ve been to Blade’s camp before, and I don’t think Blade would kill me on sight. She’s too desperate to reach Storm.”
Twitch didn’t look so sure. “What if you’re wrong? If, like you say, the Fierce Dogs won’t play fair, they might reject the challenge and just attack you. They know that you will always stand between Storm and them, so they might use the opportunity to take you out.”
“I couldn’t take on Blade’s Pack, but I can outrun them.” Lucky ran his tongue over his lips. “I’ll be on the lookout for an attack. If anything happens, I’ll run as fast as I can and lead the Fierce Dogs here.” Lucky wondered at his own determination to confront Blade. Is this the “duty” that Alfie spoke of in my dream?
Sweet’s muzzle was tense. “I don’t like it. I don’t like to think of Lucky approaching the Fierce Dogs’ lair alone. But I believe in my Beta’s ability to get himself out of almost any situation. I know he is the best dog for
the job.”
Lucky blinked at her affectionately. The worst thing about all this will be leaving Sweet, even for one night. He couldn’t let himself think it might be more than a night—that he might never come back.
He peered into the naked branches of the trees. The crows were back, filling the forest with their eerie caws. The Sun-Dog’s tail was pink and gold as it swept between the branches. Soon it would be dark.
Lucky rose to his paws. “I should go now. I can sleep somewhere en route. That way I can reach the Fierce Dogs’ camp by sunup tomorrow, when they’ll be sleepy and less likely to be in fighting spirits.”
“They’re always in fighting spirits,” Storm said gloomily.
“And at sunup they’ll be well rested and will be angry to be woken up,” added Bella, her head cocked in concern. “Maybe I should come with you.”
Lucky turned to her. He would have loved to have the company, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea. “They’ll be suspicious if there are two of us, and it’ll be harder to encourage Blade to come without her Pack. I know she probably won’t anyway, but challenging her to a battle with Storm is the best way to lure her out of her lair. With two of us, she’d be scared we might attack her.” He shook his head, thinking of Alfie again. “I have to do this alone.”
He said his good-byes to the Pack, giving Sweet a lick on the nose.
“Be careful,” she murmured, as she had the last time they’d parted on the cliffs at the edge of their camp.
“I’ll see you again very soon,” Lucky assured her. He gave a quick wag of his tail, but beneath his confident demeanor, doubt gnawed at his belly. Even if he was careful—if he stayed far enough from the Fierce Dogs’ lair to run if he had to—there was always a chance they could trap him again. Lucky tried not to think about it as he wove through the tangled forest and retraced his steps on the river path.
Instead he went over their plan. He had seen the fervor in Blade’s eyes—he knew she was desperate to kill Storm. She’ll follow me, he told himself. Her deputies will have already explored our camp—she’ll know that we’ve left. She won’t want to miss an opportunity to find the last living Fierce Dog pup born after the Big Growl. These thoughts gave him some comfort, and he picked up his pace. But a quiet dread gathered in his belly as he advanced along the edge of the frozen river. The Fierce Dogs were so powerful and organized.
Even with the help of Twitch’s Pack, did the Wild Dogs really have the strength to defeat them?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A final blaze of red fur sparkled on the frozen river as the Sun-Dog ducked out of sight. Lucky wondered where the Spirit Dog slept in the land beyond the horizon. Was it always safe and warm there? Did the Forest-Dog and River-Dog ever visit him?
The wind rose above the river, but even its angry breath couldn’t budge the ice. Lucky’s tail clung to his flank as night settled over the forest. He could no longer see the trees beyond the long rocky outcrop, but he knew they were there. He stood still, straining his ears. The dark forest was so quiet during Ice Wind. In Tree Flower, there was always the chirp of birds, even at night. There was the rustling of leaves and the thrum of insects. Ice Wind was a quieter time.
A lonelier time.
At least the Moon-Dog had appeared. She seemed to be leading him as she slunk out from behind a bank of cloud. The air was clear but achingly cold. I should find somewhere to sleep—if I have to run from the Fierce Dogs, I’ll need my strength. As the rocky outcrop came to an end, he sniffed about for a makeshift den, but something gave him pause. Is it safe to stop moving?
The night was so bitterly cold he could see his breath rising in tiny clouds as he panted. The air tasted strange. Lucky put out his tongue and then quickly drew it back, realizing that he had felt this odd texture in the air before.
Snow is coming.
He’d seen snow once or twice before, back when he was living in the city. It had lit up the trees and buildings with its fair pelt. It had never been a danger to him. But then he thought of Ferret Tooth, the Lone Dog who had begged for scraps outside the Food House—the dog who had curled up in the park one cold Ice Wind night and had never gotten up again. Lucky kept walking.
I was a Lone Dog once, just like Ferret Tooth.
It was strange to think of those times now. Lucky could remember the city before the Big Growl only in vague terms. The Food House, the Mall, and the houses where the longpaws lived. He had enjoyed his independence back then and had never felt like he needed a Pack. I didn’t have to worry about other dogs, he reminded himself. His paw skidded on some icy pebbles, and he caught his balance. I was totally free. I could get up when I wanted, eat when I wanted. . . .
As these thoughts circled Lucky’s mind, he wondered for the first time if they were really true. The Food House was only worth visiting when the longpaws were around. Some of them shooed me away, but friendlier ones would offer me scraps. And it was always best to search the spoil-boxes at the end of the day, after the longpaws had filled them.
Lucky’s tail drooped as it struck him that he had never really supported himself—he had always relied on the longpaws. I thought I was free of the longpaws, but it was their food that kept me fed, their tall houses that sheltered me from the wind. I never even hunted, not back then. Pausing, Lucky frowned, tracing the hard earth with a forepaw. Was I really any different from a Leashed Dog? I needed the longpaws every bit as much as Mickey or Sunshine. Maybe I only thought I was better, more independent.
His head dipped with shame at this realization. How foolish I must have seemed to Sweet back then, refusing to leave the city. It’s only now, as a Pack Dog, that I’m truly free.
The clouds had dispersed, leaving a jet-black sky with endless stars. Shivers ran along Lucky’s spine. The grass blades on the bank were already sparkling with frost, and he felt it creeping up his paws. He could smell the first whiff of the Endless Lake. Soon he would be passing the long wooden walkway over the water, with the little houses where the rescue party had hidden from the Fierce Dogs. Fang helped us by telling Blade he hadn’t seen us, he remembered with a stab of sadness for the young dog. Poor, foolish Fang—loyal to the wrong Pack.
Lucky thought of his own Pack. Beautiful Sweet, his mate and Alpha, good-hearted Martha, loyal Mickey, and all the others. It soothed him to think of them curled up together, safe beyond the rocky outcrop. Wherever they were, that was where he wanted to be, and no makeshift shelter would ever be the same.
His legs started aching with fatigue, and his thoughts grew melancholy as he crunched over the frosty ground. I need sleep, but I don’t dare stop when it’s this cold—not unless I find somewhere decent to rest. He thought of Blade and her ferocious Pack. It was dangerous to approach them if he was tired. He needed to have his wits about him. He might have to think on his feet. And what if they gave chase? They’ll tear me to shreds!
He pictured their pointed fangs, then reproached himself sharply, picking up the pace. It wasn’t helpful to think of such things after nightfall. “Bad thoughts infect a pup’s dreams,” Lucky’s Mother-Dog had warned him once. He tried to think of good things, like the taste of a juicy rabbit after a kill. But it was no use—his mind kept returning to the Fierce Dogs. The great battle was coming at last. He had dreamed about it so many times. When the snow came, the fighting would start—and he would be powerless to stop it.
No, he told himself. It won’t go the way of my visions. We have a plan—we have the help of Twitch’s Pack. Would the ambush work? He tried not to imagine the Fierce Dogs savaging his friends, pinning them down and mauling them. But the more he tried to squeeze out the images, the more vivid they became. He could almost smell the metallic scent of blood on the freezing air.
By the time he reached the outskirts of the longpaw town, Lucky’s legs felt heavy and chilled to the bone. It was silent and deserted, the tall, broken buildings rising up at strange angles. Ordinary objects became spooky in the pale light of the Moon-Dog. Shattered clear-stone gleam
ed like deadly fangs. A collapsed tree looked like a hunching monster preparing to pounce.
Lucky padded warily over the torn hardstone streets. His paws slipped on patches of ice, and he slunk past debris left by the second Growl. He followed a path to the pointed railings of a park. Some had bent and fallen in a heap, and he leaped over them, landing on overgrown grass.
Lucky’s mind drifted to Blade and her prophecy. She murdered her own pup. The thought haunted him. A Mother-Dog who was prepared to do that would think nothing of killing countless other dogs. She is so sure of Earth-Dog’s wrath. She’s bound to see the latest Growl as a sign of things to come. Despite himself, he couldn’t help a wave of fear as he remembered Blade’s conviction that she knew what must be done. What if she’s right about Earth-Dog seeking a sacrifice? What if her dreams about Storm are true?
He looked up into the dark sky with a guilty pang. Storm wasn’t even fully grown. She was harmless.
Harmless . . .
In an instant he saw Terror’s bloodied face, his lower jaw ripped away and dropped onto the ground like a hunk of prey. Lucky remembered the frenzied yellow eyes and the horrible gurgling that had come from the mad dog’s throat. And he remembered the look of triumph on Storm’s face as she licked Terror’s blood off her whiskers.
Lucky sighed, feeling very small beneath the twinkling stars. Would the Spirit Dogs really care about him, or Storm, or other dogs in this torn-up world?
On instinct, he threw back his head and howled. “O Spirit Dogs, what will happen to us? Is Blade right—will a final Growl come that puts an end to everything? Will there be snow and a Storm of Dogs? How can I protect my Pack?”
What if leading the Fierce Dogs to Sweet and the other Wild Dogs goes horribly wrong? What if we’re overpowered? Should we have run after all?
No reassuring image came to him from the Spirit Dogs, and Lucky whimpered, fear creeping along his spine. Maybe they’ve given up on me. Blade seems to know what’s going on—could they be protecting her?