Mickey’s tail was wagging. “I’m still so happy you’re back, Lucky. You too, Martha and . . . erm . . . Storm.” He spoke Storm quietly, with a furtive look over his shoulder.
“Yes, it’s great to have you here,” agreed Snap. “Storm, you’ve really grown.” Unlike Mickey, her use of the Fierce Dog’s adult name was bold and unapologetic. Storm’s tail wagged and her tongue lolled, clearly thrilled.
Lucky was thoughtful. They’re defying Alpha. Is his hold on the Pack loosening?
When the hunt-dogs and patrol party had left, Storm turned to Lucky and Martha.
“They like my name. They think I should use it!” she yipped.
Martha looked thoughtful. “Alpha said the ceremony wasn’t done right.”
“But Snap’s a real Wild Dog, and she didn’t care about that,” Storm pointed out. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. What does Alpha really know about Naming Ceremonies? He’s not even a proper dog!”
Lucky’s belly felt tight and he glanced around. What if she was overheard? Talk like that was enough to see Storm thrown out of the Pack. “Be careful, little one,” he urged quietly. “You don’t want to get on the wrong side of Alpha.”
“I’m already on his wrong side,” growled Storm. “Maybe he doesn’t want to get on mine.”
By the time the Pack gathered in the clearing between the trees the Sun-Dog was sinking. Lucky licked his chops, looking forward to his share of the prey.
As the hunt-dogs took their positions in the Pack order, Lucky noticed that none of them looked very happy. Bruno’s ears had rolled back, and standing next to Lucky, Mickey’s head was bowed and his tail sagged. Then Lucky understood why. The store of prey brought out by Sunshine was meager, just a couple of mice and a skinny pigeon. Lucky could see the hungry faces of his Packmates as their eyes fixed on the prey. They would all be thinking the same thing. That’s scarcely a mouthful each. . . .
“Is this it?” he whispered to Mickey.
The Farm Dog was glum. “That’s all we could find today. It’s Ice Wind—food is becoming scarce.”
Sunshine scrambled to position beside Whine as Alpha strutted toward the prey, sniffed it briefly, and wolfed down the mice. Both of them.
Lucky looked on in disgust. The dog-wolf had left almost nothing for the rest of the Pack. The scrawny pigeon wouldn’t go far. He watched as each dog took the small portion that was their due. Alpha presided, looking coolly down his wolfish snout before turning away to lick his paws.
By the time the pigeon reached Sunshine, there was almost nothing left. The Omega chewed on her scraps, sucking the spindly bones.
Lucky drifted to her side. “Has it been like this every day?”
“Not every day . . .” Sunshine scooped up a bone and crunched it down with a wince. “But it’s getting worse. It’s Ice Wind, you know. There isn’t much prey about.”
Lucky frowned. Now he was close to Sunshine, he could see that under her thatch of graying fur she was painfully thin. “But it should be shared more fairly.”
“It’s the way of the Pack,” she sighed. “It has to be like this.” Her eyes flicked to Alpha, who was still washing his paws and looking out over the valley. She continued, voice lowered, “But sometimes . . . sometimes I wish I was back in my longpaw’s house, with two big bowls of food every day, and a warm bed too.” She shook her fur. “No, that’s silly. I’m a Pack Dog now.” She spoke with a forced cheerfulness. “I just hope you catch lots of delicious prey tomorrow!”
The Moon-Dog rose over the sky, round and full.
Alpha rose. “We thank the Earth-Dog for her generous bounty.”
Generous? thought Lucky, but he knew better than to say anything. He was as silent as the other dogs as Alpha introduced the Great Howl.
As Lucky’s voice rose with his Packmates, he felt his bitterness toward Alpha drain away. Spirit Dogs danced before his eyes, those brave, cunning dogs who understood all things, and were connected to the earth, the sky, and the water. Lucky howled in thanks to Forest-Dog, who always watched over him, even in the places where trees feared to grow. He thanked the Sky-Dogs for the air that had carried the Pack’s scent to the rescue party and allowed them to return to their friends. Finally he thanked Earth-Dog, who had delivered them from the cave. He asked her to take care of Fiery’s spirit.
Please look after that brave, noble dog.
Lucky’s belly tingled with hunger and his head felt light. He lowered himself onto the ground, his limbs trembling. For a moment, all he saw was a dazzling white light. Then he glimpsed Fiery racing over the valley beyond the trees. When Fiery’s image faded, the world around Lucky grew cold. As he looked about he could no longer see the Pack or the circle of trees. Snow sprawled over the land, painting it silver in the light of the Moon-Dog. Surprised, Lucky scrambled to his paws and backed away, his pads crunching on the freezing ground. An icy wind clawed at the fur along his back and he turned to see a frosty plain. A frozen river snaked through it, its surface shimmering with white light. The furs bristled on Lucky’s muzzle. Growling, he saw a dark smudge swelling along the edge of the frozen river and caught the metallic scent of blood.
His stomach heaved. Blood ran over the river and sank into the snow. Lucky’s ears pricked. Paws were thundering over the plain, coming closer. In the distance he saw dogs. They charged over the snow, howling and snarling, their glossy coats streaked with blood. Fierce Dogs!
A yelp came from behind him, and Lucky turned to see Bella, Sweet, and Storm. They were pounding over the snow, making for the Fierce Dogs, their lips pulled back and fangs bared. Mickey and Martha were close behind them, followed by Bruno, Snap, and Daisy. Where was the rest of the Pack? Where was Alpha?
The Fierce Dogs sprinted past Lucky as though he was invisible, and rushed up to his Packmates. They fell into a line, square heads dropped as they snarled, their lips bubbling with spit. The Wild Dogs backed into one another, outnumbered.
“They’ve surrounded us!” barked Bella. “There are too many of them!”
Moon threw herself in front of her terrified pups. “We have to run!”
Bruno’s breath heaved and the old dog trembled. “We’ll never make it!”
Two wild-eyed attack-dogs sprang at Storm, throwing her to the ground.
Lucky’s heart hammered as he ran to her aid. He heard a crazed whirring overhead and his eyes shot up. The air was spinning! A furious wind twisted down from the clouds, churning up the snow-covered earth. It slapped Lucky back and sent him tumbling.
“Bella! Storm!” he barked, but the wind swallowed his voice.
I can’t get past it! I can’t help them!
Every time Lucky tried to run to his Packmates, the swirling white wind threw him back. Squinting against it, Lucky watched in horror as the dogs barked and sprang at one another, their fangs gnashing wildly. Sunshine cried out and Daisy whimpered with fear. He saw Mickey round back before launching himself at Mace. The attack-dog gripped him by the neck and threw him against the snow. Mickey’s white paws flailed and he threw back his head with a piercing howl.
Lucky was sick with fear. He ran at the twisting wind and fell back in despair. Then his eyes fell on Sweet. She was fighting Blade, her teeth bared. Sweet was slimmer than the muscular Fierce Dog Alpha, but she was faster on her paws. The two dogs wrestled, snapping at the air, before Sweet leaped back. Blade launched herself at the swift-dog with open fangs and Sweet ducked, jabbing at the Fierce Dog’s flank with her teeth before twisting out of reach. Lucky watched, overwhelmed. Sweet was so determined, so brave . . . Then he spotted Dagger, the lighter-furred Fierce Dog. He was creeping up behind Sweet, edging around a mound of snow.
She can’t fight both of them. I have to help her!
Lucky lunged forward with all his might, but the spinning white cloud batted him back, tossing him into the air as though he were as light as a leaf. For a moment the world was a haze of white before Lucky dropped down onto his back with a thud. A twinge shot through his limbs a
nd the air was knocked out of his chest. His eyes clenched shut as he fought to regain his breath.
The Storm of Dogs . . . It’s coming . . . It’s almost here!
He opened his eyes. At first he saw only the swirling white cloud overhead. Then a dark shape loomed into view—a pitch-black dog, as large as a loudcage, her eyes as white as snow and as cold as ice. Her stare pierced through Lucky and he shook with terror, but he couldn’t look away. The black dog’s huge fangs spread wide and she howled so loudly that Lucky thought the sky was ripping open. The metallic smell of blood returned, but it was closer now. His own blood.
“Lucky? Is that you?”
He could just hear Sweet’s voice beyond the screeching howl but he couldn’t see her. The black dog was expanding—her great shoulders blocked out the sky. Her tail swept away the swirling white wind until there was only darkness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lucky could hear a mumble of voices overhead. The Sky-Dogs . . . Had they hushed the great dog with the piercing white eyes?
He blinked, confused. No, not the Sky-Dogs. It was his own Pack, crowding around him, whispering and yapping.
“Passed out . . .”
“Slumped on his side . . .”
“Must be sick . . .”
Lucky clamped his eyes shut. His head was screaming like a couple of sharpclaws were fighting in there. Foul chunks rose in his throat and he swallowed them down with a grimace.
When he opened his eyes again, Alpha was looming over him. The half wolf’s head was lowered and slightly cocked.
Lucky watched him woozily. Pull yourself together. It was just a bad dream. But why had he fallen asleep in the middle of the Great Howl?
Alpha’s yellow eyes were narrowed. Lucky’s instinct told him to flatten his tail around his flank. He blinked, taking in the surprised looks of his Packmates. Daisy exchanged glances with Mickey as Whine’s eyes bulged in his squashed face. Lucky lapped his nose with his tongue. How long was I out? Did I yelp in my sleep? His fur tingled with shame.
Sweet stepped past Alpha and lowered her head, nuzzling Lucky’s neck. “You should take a moment to get yourself together.”
The smell of her fur relaxed him, and the fighting sharpclaws in his mind grew still. Lucky nodded, rolling onto his paws. For a moment his head was foggy, but the dizziness passed and he trod slowly between his Packmates, careful to avoid Alpha’s yellow gaze without lowering his own. No dog spoke as he left the camp and walked through the long grass, winding between the trees toward the pond.
Down by the water there was only the sound of wind rustling the leaves. Lucky paused at the edge, catching his reflection in the moonlight. His ears hung low; his face looked gaunt. His eyes swam in front of him, two dark hollows.
This is just what Alpha wants. . . . I look like a fool in front of the whole Pack. What sort of dog sees visions—ones so powerful that they frighten him to sleep? Why did it happen? Was it hunger, or exhaustion?
He turned to the grass bank, where he flopped on his belly. He rested his muzzle on his forepaws, taking deep, calming breaths.
He heard the soft pad of paws over grass and looked up to see Sweet. Her body was a slim silhouette in the moonlight. On impulse Lucky straightened up. He couldn’t let her see him so feeble and confused. His head felt light and he sank down again.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “What happened, Lucky?”
Her voice was so gentle and full of kindness that he yearned to confide in her. Lucky cast his eyes around into the thickening darkness. They were alone. “I had visions tonight.”
Sweet dipped her head in acknowledgment. “It isn’t the first time, but you’ve never reacted like that.”
Lucky swallowed. He had always been honest with her—even more so than with his own litter-sister. “It was different this time. More intense. Almost real . . .”
Sweet sat in front of him with a worried tilt of the head. “Like a nightmare.”
“Worse than a nightmare. More like a bad memory—a memory of something that hasn’t happened yet.”
The swift-dog shook her head and her tail tapped the grass. “A memory? Of something that hasn’t happened? That isn’t possible, Lucky.” She lay down beside him with a sigh. Lucky shut his eyes a moment, enjoying the warmth of her body against his flank. He still remembered her in the Trap House, so frightened and skittish. Here she was strong, and it was his turn to be weak. He longed to reach out to her, to lick her nose, but he held back, ashamed.
“I guess I’m not doing that well,” he confessed, mumbling into the grass. “I used to be independent. When you met me, I was a Lone Dog. I never wanted to be a Pack Dog.”
“I know that, Lucky.”
He met her gaze in the silvery light of Moon-Dog. “But something changed. I guess I’m glad to be in a Pack. I didn’t expect that. . . .”
“That’s natural,” Sweet assured him.
“Maybe. But it’s strange, at least for the Lone Dog in me. I don’t know who I am anymore. It’s awful to think that I might not have survived the Big Growl on my own, without a Pack. I took so much pride in relying on my own wits, but that’s gone now. Since the Big Growl, I have needed others. That’s when the world changed and my visions began. I’ve been glad of it—the Pack—glad to be part of it. But it’s caused me heartache too. I’ve found myself in situations where I don’t know what to do, like in the Dog-Garden. Mickey and I couldn’t leave Storm and her littermates. But taking them with us has caused so many problems.”
“The world changed for all of us,” Sweet soothed. “We wouldn’t have survived without one another. I couldn’t have even escaped the Trap House without you.”
Lucky’s whiskers tingled with gratitude.
“It’s all so uncertain,” he whined. He caught himself, and his tail slumped with shame. “It scares me.”
Sweet’s nose quivered with each breath. Why am I telling her this? I should try to look calm and brave.
He lowered his voice, holding her gaze. “Sweet, Fiery was going to challenge Alpha before he was caught by the yellow longpaws. They would have fought for leadership. Fiery would have made a good leader. He wasn’t afraid to put himself forward, to take risks. And the Pack liked him. . . . He was fair.”
Sweet’s tongue lapped at her nose and she blinked nervously. “We shouldn’t be talking like this,” she whispered.
Lucky lowered his voice. “But it’s true,” he went on. “Alpha is a strong leader, but he sets dogs up against one another. It’s cruel the way that dogs are ranked, with the Omega and others at the bottom of the heap having so little to eat. Sunshine is practically starving. We’re supposed to be a Pack, to look out for one another.”
Sweet sighed. “I know how you feel about it, but that’s just the way things are. That’s how it works in a wild Pack, and it wouldn’t have changed under Fiery. Every dog has a role; it’s how we all feel secure.”
Lucky’s eyes widened. “But, Sweet, it doesn’t have to be like that. And do you really think that the lower-ranking dogs feel secure? They’re anxious not to upset any dog, and they’re always hungry. I’m worried about Sunshine. She’s so thin. Even high-ranking dogs need to watch their backs in case they upset Alpha. If every dog has a role, shouldn’t every dog be rewarded? Why not share things more equally?” Lucky’s headache had faded and he felt more himself, more alive, than he had in ages. His fur rippled in the cool air and his whiskers tingled with excitement. “You would make every dog count . . . if you challenged Alpha.”
Sweet gasped. She glanced warily into the darkness surrounding them. “Me?”
“You could do it, Sweet. You’re strong. You could beat Alpha, but more importantly, you could lead the Pack. The dogs trust you.”
Sweet stayed silent but Lucky caught the silhouette of her tail as it thumped the ground. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight. Then she rested her head against his neck and closed her eyes.
Lucky’s heart gave a leap of happiness as he breathe
d in her sweet, warm scent.
After a moment, the swift-dog rose to her paws with a stretch. “We should get back to the others. Are you okay now?”
Lucky stood, feeling better. They paused, side by side, gazing at their reflections in the moonlit pond. This time, Lucky had no impulse to look away.
He trod after Sweet as she made her way through the long grass. As they reached the trees, he threw a last, lingering look at the pond. Light glanced over the surface. Turning back to Sweet, he caught a shadow shifting between the trees. He thought he saw a pair of long ears and the hint of a gray pelt. Was Alpha there? Had he been watching? Even if he saw us, he couldn’t have caught what we’d been saying. We were so quiet. But as Lucky followed Sweet back to the camp, he wondered about Alpha’s wolfish hearing. The fur rose along the back of Lucky’s neck. Didn’t the half wolf hear more than other dogs?
When Lucky awoke the next sunup, he couldn’t remember his dreams. He was thankful not to have experienced more visions in the night. He stretched in the bright sun of Ice Wind and rolled onto his paws. Most of the Pack had already risen. He could see Martha with Mickey, Bella, and Storm. Snap was setting out on a hunt with Bruno. Moon was washing Beetle’s and Thorn’s ears as they tried to protest.
Lucky’s glance trailed over the clearing between the trees till he spotted Sweet. His tail gave a thump of pleasure. Then he noticed Dart and Spring, who were facing the swift-dog, their muzzles tense.
He padded toward them. He caught the end of Spring’s words.
“. . . like Lucky said, they’re only in the town. They could get here in a couple of days, maybe less. . . .”
Sweet looked resolute. “We can defend ourselves.”
“But how?” whined Dart. “The camp is so open. Blade and her Pack could take us by surprise. The wind charges back and forth like a mad dog. Can we trust that we’ll smell or hear them coming?” The hunt-dog’s ears were low, and her eyes seized on Lucky as he approached. She turned to address him. “Isn’t that right? The Fierce Dogs could come here!” Her voice rose sharply, drawing the attention of her Packmates, who padded closer. Lucky spotted Alpha sloping between two trees. The dog-wolf paused, his head low and watchful.