Storm ran after Bella and Mickey, but it was like running through the tugging waters of the Endless Lake. She knew she wasn’t truly afraid of scrawny coyotes—but her mind was still swimming in the terror she’d felt as a pup.
But when they reached the trees, there were no coyotes to be seen, only the scent they had left behind.
Bella made to plunge on through the wood, but Storm barked, “Let’s leave them. We’d be better off saving our energy for prey.”
“Coyotes . . .” Mickey shook his head, panting hard. “I hate coyotes. What are they doing here?”
Yes, what are they doing here? Could it be . . . could they have killed Whisper? But as soon as she’d had that thought, her heart sank. She knew it couldn’t be true—coyotes smelled even worse than foxes, and if they’d been anywhere near the camp, she and Lucky would have known it at once.
“Didn’t you smell them coming when you were scouting this place out?” Arrow asked, twitching an ear at Dart.
Dart bristled. “What are you saying? That I would scent coyotes and not tell you?”
“There’s no need to get so sensitive,” Bella said. “He didn’t say that. They smell pretty bad, so they can’t have been here long, that’s all.”
Dart sniffed, obviously not too comforted by Bella’s explanation.
“Either way, they’ve scared off all the prey around here,” Storm said quickly. She put her nose to the ground and sniffed, trying to find the scents of the rabbits under the smell of angry dogs and coyotes. She could smell where the prey creatures had been, but if they were still in the meadow, they would be hiding deep in their holes, and not likely to come out any time soon.
She raised her head and sniffed the air. “We should move on. Perhaps there will be prey somewhere in the forest that hasn’t scented the coyotes and run off.”
“I’m not sure, Storm. Maybe we should report back first and check on Alpha,” Mickey said. He gave a nervous swish of his fluffy tail, and Storm realized that Mickey’s memories of the coyotes must be quite different from hers—she had been afraid, but he’d had three small lives to worry about as well as his own. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to get back to Alpha.
“We can always hunt again later,” Bella agreed. “I’d like to get back and see if Lucky needs us.”
All four other dogs looked to Storm, and she felt a small swell of pride. They’re still treating me as the leader of this hunting party. Even though most of them outranked her, and the hunt hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.
She nodded. “Let’s get back.”
I’ll go out again soon, though, she thought. It pained her to return to camp without any food for Alpha, and her paws felt like they were weighed down with stones as she led the party back over the meadow, through the bushes, and over the rolling grassy slope toward the camp.
As they drew closer, Storm thought she heard dogs yapping to one another, and her heart juddered in her chest. Is something wrong? Did the coyotes get past us and attack? Has something happened to Alpha?
Has another dog died, like Whisper?
But a moment later, when she could hear the barks more clearly, she realized there was no fear or anger in them. The dogs weren’t barking for help, they were barking for joy.
The hunting party came through the tree line, and Storm could see her Packmates standing with their tongues lolling happily, rolling on their backs or beating their tails against the ground.
Two small blurs of white zipped across the grass toward them—Daisy and Omega, yipping excitedly and occasionally turning in tight circles, as if their little bodies were too small to hold all their feelings inside.
“The pups are here! They’re here!”
CHAPTER FOUR
Mickey panted happily and gave a little hop on the spot. “Are they all right? How’s Alpha?”
“How’s Lucky?” Bella added.
Daisy and Omega bounced on their paws.
“They’re fine!”
“There are four of them!”
“Alpha’s very tired.”
“Beta looks like he’s hit his head on a rock.”
“But in a good way!”
“We’re off to the pond to fetch them some more water!” Omega shot off, her little legs going at a speed that Storm didn’t think she’d ever seen before. Daisy trotted behind her.
Bella, Mickey, Arrow, and Dart all looked at one another with bright eyes and then hurried into the camp, the loss of the deer and the worrying scent of the coyotes all but forgotten, nosing their way between the other dogs. Mickey barreled up to Snap and rolled to the ground at her feet, inviting an affectionate, playful pounce from his mate. Dart sat down beside Bruno, her tail wagging against the ground so fast it sent up clouds of dust.
Storm watched them go. She was so happy for Alpha and Lucky. Of course she was. New pups! Her tail lashed slowly from side to side.
But something was stopping her from bounding up to the others and celebrating with them.
It’s too soon. She knew that the pups couldn’t choose when they would arrive, nor could Alpha, but still, Storm just couldn’t bound and leap like the others. It wasn’t even a full day since Whisper had been alive and well, running through the forest, annoying Storm with his constant presence. Now she felt his absence like a deep, dark hole that sucked away the happiness she knew she should be feeling.
She turned away from the camp, determined not to ruin the moment for the other dogs. She walked until she reached the mossy clearing and sat down by the freshly dug earth where Whisper was buried.
“Alpha’s had her pups, Whisper,” she said, though she wasn’t sure why. Whisper wasn’t here. He was in the Forests Beyond, with the Earth-Dog, and with Martha and Wiggle. Still, she felt like if she sat where his body was, perhaps his spirit would hear her. She knew it was a silly, puppyish thought. But she went on anyway. “There are four of them. We don’t know their names yet. Everyone’s so happy. But we haven’t forgotten about you. I promise.”
She felt a little better for saying it, even though she knew Whisper couldn’t hear her. Storm sat alone and silent for a little while, and when the Sun-Dog’s shadows had shifted a few pawsteps across the ground, she got up. Bowing her head to Whisper, she then turned away and headed back toward the camp. She should make sure someone had reported in to Twitch about the coyotes they’d scented, and now she felt as if she could face the other dogs’ happiness without feeling like something was badly wrong with the world.
As she emerged from the trees, she was starting to look forward to meeting the pups. Lucky and Alpha were both strong, clever dogs—their pups would be good dogs too, Storm was sure. What would their pup names be? Would they be fast and wise like Alpha, or brave and cunning like Lucky, or could they be both?
As she approached the pond, she saw Arrow sitting there, his head bowed, staring into the still water. At first she thought he must be about to take a drink, but he didn’t move.
“Arrow? Is everything all right?” Storm asked, a worry pricking at the back of her neck.
“Oh, yes . . . it’s just sad. That poor pup.”
“What happened?” Storm gasped. “Is one of them hurt, or sick?”
“Not exactly. She’s just very weak. Moon told me.” He looked up at Storm and shook his head. “It’s a shame. I’m sure Alpha and Beta will be all right. A litter of three is still good. I just wish . . . things like this didn’t have to happen.”
“What—what do you mean? Is she dying?” Storm pawed the ground and looked up toward the camp, fighting the urge to run to Lucky’s side—if one of his pups was going to die, he probably wouldn’t want dogs pestering him. “Is there anything we can do? What did Moon say? She knows about raising pups, doesn’t she?”
“No, Storm, the pup’s not sick. She’s a runt.”
Storm blinked at Arrow, confusion overtaking her worry. “Oh! But that doesn’t mean she’s going to die!” She gave Arrow what she hoped was a reassuring nudge on the shou
lder. “If she’s not sick, she might grow bigger in time. Alpha and Beta and Moon will take good care of her, you’ll see.”
One of Arrow’s pointed ears cocked, and he frowned. “You mean . . . you don’t think they’ll send her away?”
Storm just stared at him, completely perplexed. Arrow shrugged.
“That’s what happened to runts in the Dog-Garden, before the Big Growl,” he said quietly. “I . . . I had a litter-sister who was born a runt. She wasn’t sick, just small. She was so tiny, she was almost small enough to curl up on my Mother-Dog’s paw.”
He gazed down into the still water again.
“The longpaws came. They were gentle to me and my other littermates . . . but they picked up my litter-sister and made their deep longpaw noises for a while, and then they took her away. We never saw her again.”
“What was her name?”
“She didn’t have one,” Arrow muttered. “She was taken too soon. And . . . I think my Mother-Dog knew it would happen. Blade came to us afterward and explained that it was for the best. She said only the strongest Fierce Dogs were allowed to grow up in the Dog-Garden. It was for the good of the Pack, she said. To make sure all of our pups would grow up to be properly Fierce.”
Storm shuddered. “A little pup can’t survive alone, especially not one who’s so tiny! Alpha and Beta wouldn’t do that to their own pup.” But then a wave of doubt hit her and she looked away.
They wouldn’t do that . . . would they?
“What’s the matter?”
Storm turned and saw Mickey and Snap, walking in step toward the pond.
“Are you all right, Storm?” Mickey said. “You both look like the Wind-Dogs ran right through you!”
Storm glanced at Arrow, but he stayed quiet, so she turned to the two older dogs. “It’s just—one of Alpha’s pups is a runt, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but you don’t need to worry about that,” Mickey said. “She’ll get stronger in time.”
“Well,” Storm went on, “Arrow says that in the Dog-Garden, the longpaws used to take pups away if they were runts. They were thrown out of the Pack. That . . . won’t happen to this pup, right?”
The shock on Mickey’s and Snap’s faces told Storm all she needed to know, and she let out a long sigh of relief.
“Of course not!” Snap gasped.
“Oh, Storm,” Mickey said gently. “I’m sure that only happened in the Dog-Garden. My longpaws would never have done that, and no dog would either. Alpha’s pup will be taken care of.”
Snap snorted. “Only a Fierce Dog would get rid of a newborn pup just because it wasn’t as strong as its littermates.”
Storm felt stung and glanced at Arrow, wondering if he felt the same when their Packmates talked about Fierce Dogs as if they were naturally more brutal than any other dog.
“Snap, that’s not fair,” Mickey said, and his mate twitched her short ears and dipped her head. “It wasn’t the dogs who got rid of the pups, was it? It was the Dog-Garden longpaws. They don’t sound like they were very good longpaws,” he muttered. “Our longpaws loved us and took care of us when we were sick. They would never have done something like that.”
“I know,” Snap said. “I’m sorry, Storm, I didn’t mean that. But you have to admit, it sounds just like something Blade would do.”
Storm nodded. “It’s all right,” she said quietly, though she couldn’t help but notice that Snap had only apologized to her and not to Arrow.
Still . . . I did wonder, just for a minute. I considered the possibility that Alpha and Beta might send one of their own pups away.
Is that because I am a Fierce Dog? Is there something in me that makes me ruthless enough to think that only the strong deserve to survive, and that the weak should be thrown out?
She shook herself. “Has anybody told Twitch or Beta what happened on the hunt?”
Mickey and Arrow gave each other startled looks and then shook their heads.
“No,” Arrow said. “It was the pups—we were all so distracted. . . .”
“It’s all right. I was leading the hunt,” Storm said, relieved to have something practical to do. “I’ll go right now.” She trotted away, heading for the dens. The rest of the Pack was still mostly lying happily around the camp, all within sight of Alpha and Beta’s den. Storm drew level with Thorn and Beetle, who were dozing together in a patch of sunlit grass close to its entrance. She paused for a second and sniffed the air. It was so strange—when Storm had left, there had been three dogs inside the den, each with its own distinctive scent, and now there were seven.
“How are they doing?” Storm asked Thorn.
Thorn blinked happily up at Storm and rolled over, exposing her belly to the sunshine. “Mother says they’re doing very well, even the tiny one.”
“Thorn was much smaller than me when we were born,” Beetle said, without opening his eyes. “Now look at her.”
“I was not. You were the small one!” Thorn kicked him, but without much force.
“I think they’re all asleep now,” Beetle added.
I shouldn’t disturb them, Storm thought. Alpha should know about the coyotes . . . but it can wait.
She looked around until she spotted Twitch’s floppy ears gleaming brown in the sunlight, and she headed over to him.
“Twitch, can I talk to you? It’s about the hunt.”
Twitch got to his three paws and stretched. “It’s all right, Storm. You weren’t away for long. I’m not surprised you didn’t manage to catch anything. We’ll send out another party in a while.”
“That’s just it—we very nearly did, and then . . .” Storm hesitated. The whole Pack should probably know about the coyotes—but she didn’t want to start a panic, either, not when every dog seemed so happy and relaxed.
Twitch gave her a keen look, and then said calmly, “Shall we go for a walk to the cliff?”
“Yes,” Storm said. “I think that might be a good idea.”
She stayed quiet as they climbed the hillside, skirting the jagged rocks and patches of long, stiff grass that dotted the cliff top. When they’d finally reached a point where they could see out over the Endless Lake, with the broken reflection of the Sun-Dog glittering on the water, she told Twitch about the disturbing scent of coyotes in the meadow, and how their prey had been scared away.
“We haven’t seen coyotes in this territory before, have we?” she asked. “They might have just been passing through. . . .”
Twitch shook his head. “I don’t know, but coyotes are vicious, we’ll have to watch out for them.” He looked out over the Endless Lake, and his brows drew down in thought. “I don’t suppose . . . I wonder . . . could they have had something to do with the attack on Whisper?”
“I wondered that too,” Storm said.
Twitch cocked his head. “But you don’t think so?”
“Well . . . They do have bigger teeth and claws than foxes—and they’re crueler. But no dog has reported scenting them near the camp before. And their scent is so strong, we’d have known if they’d been near us. I don’t think there’s enough evidence to take it to the rest of the Pack.”
Twitch nodded. “You may be right. The others are working hard on catching the foxes—it wouldn’t be wise to split their attention, not without any real evidence that the coyotes are still nearby.”
“So what should we do?” Storm asked.
“Alpha’s right, we need to protect our boundaries. Increase patrols, and keep sending scout dogs out with the hunting parties. We have to be on our guard,” he added darkly. “If those coyotes think we’re taking their prey, they might attack our hunters. I’ll talk to the scouts—they should know what they’re sniffing for.”
Storm nodded. Twitch stood up to go, and then gave her a lick on the ear.
“You did well, Storm. You reported back to me. We’ll be able to protect ourselves better from now on.”
Storm gave a soft, grateful bark of acknowledgment and sat for a while, looking out at t
he Endless Lake, while Twitch made his way back toward the camp.
Twitch was such a good leader. He never judged her, or made her feel stupid, even when her problems were a lot less obvious than coyotes on the borders. Whatever happened, he always made her feel as if the problem could be solved, somehow.
She could see why his Pack had turned to him when Terror had fallen.
I just wish more of my Packmates were like him. . . .
CHAPTER FIVE
It was so cold.
Storm’s skin crawled with it, as if there were tiny frozen insects all over her. She tried to open her eyes, but she realized they were already open—and she was surrounded by pure pitch blackness. She shifted her paws, afraid they might fuse to the frozen black ground under her pads, and turned on the spot, searching the darkness for some sign of where she was or how she could get home.
Suddenly there was a light. It was far off, but blindingly bright compared to the darkness all around her. As she stared at it, she could begin to see that it was daylight on green grass. The forest, the camp, and the Sun-Dog were all over there, somewhere in the distance. All she had to do was get out of the darkness.
Storm began to walk forward and then broke into a run. Her breath came harder and faster as she ran, clouding in front of her in the freezing air. Her paws made no sound, though she could feel them slamming against the hard black ground.
The forest must be very far away—she had run a rabbit-chase or two already, and it seemed no closer. Storm put on a burst of speed, feeling like she was almost flying through the dark, but the bright-green grass seemed to drift away from her as fast as she sped toward it.
I must get home, she thought desperately. Back to the Pack, to my family and my friends. No dog can live in the dark, like this . . . their hearts would freeze and die. . . .
Storm ran faster, chasing the sunlight as if it were prey. She would catch it. She would outpace this darkness! She—
Something smacked into her forelegs as she bounded through the dark, making her stumble and fall. The obstacle was soft and slightly squishy under her paws. She scrambled upright, staring down into the darkness, trying to make out what she could have fallen over.