The Wild Dogs might never even know it was him who had betrayed them.
Lucky shook himself violently from head to tail. He shouldn’t be feeling this sadness, this crawling regret, in his belly. Twitch and Dart would miss him on patrol. He wondered what they would think had happened to him. At least he wouldn’t have to face any of them again. Not even Sweet . . . A sick sensation filled his belly.
He shook it off angrily. He couldn’t let Bella and the others down. With a last glance over his shoulder at the silent, sleeping camp, Lucky slunk away into the shadows of the forest.
Good-bye, he told them silently. I’m sorry that I had to do this to you.
The Moon-Dog was high overhead as Lucky picked his way cautiously through scrub and tree trunks, and he found himself wondering if Bella would still be at their meeting place. He barely liked to admit what a relief it would be if she had already left. Maybe she had given up on him altogether, after waiting in vain the last few no-suns. He could go on alone . . . or return to the Wild Pack. . . .
As he crept into the great open space, he could smell the longpaw-place, all old fires and burnt food as Bella had described it. He saw the strange shapes of tables and benches, silvered by the Moon-Dog’s light. Beneath one of them, a cracked and overturned board of nailed planks, he saw curled shadows that moved slightly: flanks that rose and fell with breath.
Bella and Mickey, huddled together and fast asleep. Lucky padded to them on silent paws and licked gently at their faces.
“Bella? Mickey?”
They were awake in an instant, leaping to their feet, hackles high and snarling. Lucky saw the bright glint of their wide eyes.
“It’s me. Lucky.”
Both Bella and Mickey relaxed, their breaths coming out in a relieved sigh. Tails lashing, they yipped soft greetings, exchanging licks with Lucky. He was so happy to see them again; it felt like an age since he had left his friends to join the Wild Pack. And he was shocked to realize just how much he had missed his litter-sister. Fondly he nuzzled her ear.
“It’s good to see you safe,” he murmured. “How are Bruno and Martha?”
Bella seemed to hesitate for a moment, but Mickey shook his head and barked gruffly, “Not good. We’ve given them the best of the food and the cleanest of the water, but they don’t seem to be getting any better.” The Farm Dog’s eyes were downcast, as if he was ashamed to give Lucky such bad news.
Lucky’s heart sank. His friends could not be eating or drinking well if there had not been much recovery; he felt bad now for resenting his small share of the Wild Pack’s prey. At least he had been able to eat. . . .
Again he felt his loyalties shift, and the guilt gnaw at his belly. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I did not dare creep away before now. There were always dogs watching.”
“We understand. But the poison creeps farther and farther downriver,” said Bella quietly. “And the hunting is poor. I suppose the prey is all moving away from the bad water, too. And every time it rains, we have to get out of the caves quickly, in case they flood. I can’t afford to have that river water touching anyone else.”
“That’s sensible.” Lucky licked her. “But it must be very difficult.”
“Please, Lucky.” Bella raised her golden eyes to his. “Please tell me you’ve found a way for us to get to the lake.”
“Yes, I have.” Lucky did his best to look cheerful, for Mickey’s and Bella’s sake. “Listen, the Wild Pack still will not let you share.”
“But—”
“No, wait. I’ve scouted out a way we can get to the lake without them seeing us, and I know the best time as well. There’s a gully—I’ll show you where it runs—and we need to follow it around the long way to the far side of the lake. The patrols do not go that far, and if it’s a still night there won’t be enough wind to carry our scent to them. I think it will be safe for us to drink then.”
“You think?” Bella looked doubtful, and Mickey gave her a worried glance.
“The best time is sunset,” Lucky went on. “Not only is that a good time to travel—because the dusk gives good camouflage—but that is the time the hunters come back to the Pack. The whole Pack eats together, so no dog will be patrolling.”
He did not want to mention the Great Howl, though he could not say why this was. Perhaps because the very thought of it gave him that ache of Pack-longing in his belly. . . .
Mickey pawed the ground, and Bella furrowed her brows. “I’m not sure that Bruno and Martha will be strong enough,” she said.
“That’ll be all right,” said Lucky. “We can take all the fit and strong dogs down to the lake, and that should leave enough clean water back at camp for the sick ones. See?”
The Leashed Dogs exchanged a glance—one that he did not like, though he couldn’t say why. Mickey shuffled some leaves into a pile with a paw, the pointless task seeming to fascinate him. Bella peered at the stars above her, as if searching intently for the shape of the Rabbit or one of the other star-creatures their mother had pointed out to them when they were just pups.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to be coming back.” Lucky’s voice was too bright; he could hear it himself. “I’ve missed you all!”
“Lucky?” With a great sigh, Bella raised her eyes to meet his. “You shouldn’t come back . . . not yet.”
“What?” He was startled. “But I’ve found the way—”
“No.” Bella shook her head determinedly. “You have done a wonderful job, Lucky, but don’t you see? That Wild Pack trusts you now. You can slip away without anyone suspecting anything is wrong. You might be able to find out more! Stay with them a little longer, Lucky—for us.”
Lucky stared at her. The thought of going back to the Wild Pack after betraying them like this filled him with shame as well as guilt. And what if they had noticed his absence? He did not like the idea of having to explain himself to Alpha—or to Sweet, who had trusted him to watch over the camp. Would she get in trouble for what he had done?
Yet he did want to see Sweet again. And not just because of what he had to do for Bella and her friends.
I can take part in the Howl again. . . . I can feel the power of the Earth-Dog and the Sky-Dogs. I can feel like I’m in control of myself, my destiny—rather than rushing around, simply trying to stay alive.
His fur bristled with sadness at that thought. Without him, would the Leashed Dogs be able to survive? His litter-sister was becoming stronger and more confident—he could see that—but even she seemed not to understand the world around them in the way that the dogs in Alpha’s Pack did. They would always need his help.
“All right,” he said at last. “I will go back. But, Bella . . .”
“What?” His litter-sister’s voice sounded sharp, almost on edge.
Lucky shook himself. “Nothing. I just want you to know I don’t like this. Any of it.”
As he turned and walked away, he was almost sure he caught a guilty look passing between Bella and Mickey, but he shrugged it off. He did not mind if they had to share a little bit of his own unhappiness.
Moon-Dog was already settling down to sleep through the day, and Sun-Dog would soon replace her on the horizon. Lucky felt a fearful urgency to get back to Alpha’s camp before they realized he was missing, but he was nervous, too. He stopped every few paces to listen, and to sniff at the breeze. One sign of an early patrol and he would have to take to his paws and run back to Bella. There was no excuse he could think of for abandoning his watch until sunup.
Birds were beginning to sing in the branches above him, and one took off with a flutter of wings. Lucky halted, his heart in his throat, but the bird settled; there was nothing else, no bark, no howl of alarm or anger. His paws shook slightly as he went on. He noticed there was a scent that clung to his coat, and recognized it as Bella’s. A shudder went down his spine; how had he imagined the other dogs would not notice that?
He plunged deep into a pile of dead leaves that had rotted almost to mulch, rolli
ng over and over until he was sure he had rid himself of her smell.
Finally he reached the outskirts of the Wild Pack’s camp. Unable to suppress the tingle of fear in his skin, he padded silently closer, listening for the stir of dogs waking up.
Silence. Lucky was in his post by the clearing entrance just in time to see Spring stretching and rising, yawning at the morning, her long brown-and-black ears dangling, her keen nose twitching as she picked up the scents all around them. Lucky tilted his head and watched her expectantly as she trotted up and licked his ear.
“Any trouble, Lucky?” she asked quietly.
“None,” he lied. Only the trouble I brought myself. . . .
“Go and get some sleep, then.” Spring sat down in his place, her eyes sweeping the forest beyond. “I’ll keep my nose out for any danger.”
“Is there any danger?” Lucky asked.
“Not really,” Spring replied. “It would be a foolish dog who tried to take us on.”
“I suppose you’re right,” said Lucky as Spring loped off. He turned his sleep-circle on the patch of soft moss that was his bed, glancing up into the sky and hoping the Sky-Dogs were listening to him.
I am sorry for being such a dishonorable dog, but my friends need help. . . .
He lay down, shutting his eyes, but sleep refused to come. No doubt the Moon-Dog was angry. Oh, Forest-Dog, please explain to her that I had to do it.
It was no use. Besides, every time his eyes closed, his terrible nightmare of the Storm of Dogs rumbled distantly, threatening to return. Between the dream and the way his loyalties seemed to bite and scratch at each other, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. But if he was up and wandering the camp after patrolling during the night, other dogs would ask questions. And Lucky felt like he had told enough lies recently.
This was why he had always preferred living as a Lone Dog. Who could bear being torn in so many directions? Loyalty to other dogs was a curse, he thought bitterly, because you could not be loyal to everyone at once. How in the name of the Sky-Dogs had a loner like him come to run with two Packs, and somehow not belong to either?
It’s like the Big Growl turned the whole world upside down, he thought.
The Sun-Dog was pushing his muzzle above the horizon, a bright glow of gold that lit up the whole forest and burnished the pine bark with shining bronze. There would be no more sleep now, Lucky realized with an inward sigh.
He did not want to lie here anyway. If he did, he knew that thoughts would tumble around his head more and more. How was he going to get himself out of this mess without disappointing—or betraying—dogs that he cared about?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Hold on!” barked Dart. “Everybody stay still!”
Lucky lifted his head and pricked his ears, watching Dart carefully as she sniffed the wind, her fur prickling. Her muzzle was curled back, and Lucky felt a tremor of unease in his flanks.
Sometimes, he got the feeling Dart hoped for there to be trouble—so she had something to snarl and fight about. She was an angry dog.
The sunup patrol had been straightforward, thank the Sky-Dogs, because Lucky knew he was too tired and confused to deal with any nasty surprises. But what could Dart have noticed in this broad, pleasant meadow, with a clear view of any possible danger from far away? All Lucky could see was rippling grass, right up to the dark line of forest beyond.
“What is it?” he howled.
“I don’t know.” Dart sniffed the air again, urgently. “Something strange.”
Twitch was silent too, casting around for any scent of what Dart had detected. Lucky followed Twitch as he drew closer to Dart; he hoped that what Dart had found had nothing to do with Bella’s Pack. He wasn’t sure he trusted Bella not to do something stupid without him there to talk her out of it. What if they had strayed into Alpha’s territory in their desperate search for food?
Suddenly Lucky stopped, one paw raised. He was close to Dart now and a hint of the strange scent had come to him, too. It took him only a second to identify it: crushed earth, metal, and animal-hide . . . That strong-smelling drink that a longpaw would give to a . . .
Loudcage!
It was no ordinary loudcage, though; it was one of those monstrous ones he would occasionally see in the city. They smelled different from the little loudcages—stronger and more threatening. Lucky had seen them chew up entire roads, spitting out black chunks of earth and flattening them beneath terrible crushing feet that rolled across the earth.
“Stop, Dart—I know what that is!”
Dart threw him a doubtful look, then slunk across to Lucky. “What?” she muttered.
“It’s a loudcage scent, but that’s a big one—”
Dart flinched away, a spark of terror in her eyes. “Loudcages? Well, they have nothing to do with us. Let’s go on with the patrol—avoid the thing—”
“They won’t threaten us, not those ones with the great teeth,” Lucky told her. “They are too big to bother with us. We should go and see what they are up to.”
“No,” Dart growled. “Why should we care that loudcages are nearby?”
“Because they can crush a dog,” Lucky told them. “Not even the fastest dog can outrun a loudcage.”
“Maybe Beta could,” said Twitch, who had come to stand with them. “She’s very fast.”
“Not even her,” Lucky whined. “We must be careful now.”
“I’ve never seen a loudcage,” Twitch said, his flanks heaving as he shivered. “I’ve never even heard of such a thing as a giant one.”
“Of course not,” snapped Dart, who seemed very much on edge. “You and Spring were born in the wild. I lived in the city when I was a pup, and I’ve seen the terrible things a loudcage can do. One of my littermates . . .” She shuddered.
Maybe Dart was right, thought Lucky. Maybe they should avoid the giant loudcage. But what was it doing out here in the wild? Were the longpaws building a new city to replace their destroyed one? If that was so, it was surely better for the dogs to know about it, so that they could move on in plenty of time.
“Just a quick look,” Lucky promised. “I’m sure Alpha would want us to investigate.”
That was enough to persuade the other two. Hesitantly they followed Lucky as he tracked the scent—which was not difficult when the smell of loudcage drink was so thick and overwhelming. Lucky felt quite sick with it by the time they crested a rise and saw a marshy plain stretching out below.
There it was: a colossal yellow loudcage, resting from its brutal churning of the ground. The tracks of its rolling paws were everywhere, mounds of muddy earth strewn around them. There was another beast with it, a long-snouted metal thing that was driven half into the earth as if hunting for the Earth-Dog herself. Lucky shuddered at the sight.
There were longpaws there, of course, wearing that strange shiny, yellow fur Lucky had seen before on the ones beside the poisoned river.
“Keep back,” he growled to Twitch and Dart, but it was hardly necessary. They were already cowering against the fringe of trees. “Those longpaws aren’t friendly. You were right, Dart—whatever they’re doing, it is not good for us.”
But this time it was Twitch who held his ground, staring out from the cover of the long grass. “Look at that giant metal tooth,” he whispered. “They are eating the ground. Chasing the Earth-Dog. Do you think they’re hurting her?”
“If Earth-Dog was hurt,” said Dart, “she would let us know. She would Growl again.”
“What if they’ve killed her?” Twitch whined.
“I don’t know,” snapped Dart, “but Lucky’s right. We should leave now.”
“No. We said we would find out more and report to Alpha. We have a duty to the Pack.”
Twitch had a stubborn, determined look in his eyes. Lucky sighed, annoyed and impatient. Maybe the slower-moving dog was desperate to impress Alpha and improve his standing in the Pack. There was little chance of that, so far as Lucky could see: Speed and strength were what ma
ttered for the higher-ranked hunting dogs, and even Mulch and Spring, who were less experienced and skilled than Fiery or Snap, had nothing to fear from Twitch. But Twitch had a point. The business with the giant loudcage was strange behavior, even for longpaws—it might be good for the dogs to find out what they were up to.
For the time being, they did not seem to be up to much at all. The giant loudcage rested, still and silent, while the longpaws ambled around, exchanging curt sounds and inspecting the churned earth. One of them held a box in his hand that seemed very important to him, because he kept touching it, staring at it. Lucky pricked one ear.
It was all they seemed to do—stand and talk and prod the ground, and occasionally peer at the box. Just as Lucky was beginning to think there was nothing more to be learned, one of the longpaws strode up to the giant loudcage and mounted it. After a moment of silence, the loudcage roared—a terrifying sound that made the ground tremble beneath his paws.
With a whine, Lucky crouched low, seeing that Twitch and Dart were doing the same. What were the longpaws doing—trying to provoke another Big Growl? The giant loudcage’s roar was constant and deafening, blotting out every other sound in the world. The smell of broken wet earth and disturbed crawling creatures obliterated every other scent. Lucky hated the fact that all his senses could detect was that loudcage and its work.
“We need to get away,” he barked at the others. “We’re blind and deaf here!”
“Yes!” yelped Twitch. Dart was already scuttling back, her eyes alight with terror.
The sunlight that spilled over them vanished, as if a cloud had drifted across the Sun-Dog. His senses were so confused and blunted, Lucky thought he was imagining it—that the sudden cool dimness was in his head. Then he realized: a shadow cast by . . .
He spun around. A longpaw was behind him, and advancing!
Lucky’s neck fur rose up and he barked as loudly as he could, but the longpaw did not hesitate the way he had known some city longpaws do in the face of a strange dog. Dart and Twitch were barking too, teeth bared and ears flattened like Lucky’s, but there were more longpaws now. Friends of the ones with the giant loudcage? They were dressed just the same, though they’d come from the opposite direction. Their faces were black, and seemingly without eyes, noses, or mouths. They wore those yellow, shiny furs.