Page 13 of The Empty City


  She began to zigzag across the land, staying carefully outside the wolves’ territory but venturing near it and then away again. The delicious scent of the fresh prey was distracting, but she focused hard on anything that wasn’t tasty rabbit. She made her way downhill, until the land flattened a little and she thought she was level with the bottom of the wolf Pack’s valley—and sure enough, just outside their territory, she picked up the scent of a lone wolf and hurried toward it.

  She found Peaceful the Healer wolf dozing under the shade of a tree, her tail curled around her back paws and her muzzle laid flat on the crunchy red leaves.

  “Hello, Peaceful,” Storm barked, dropping the rabbits at her paws. “I’m so glad I found you!”

  Peaceful sat up, blinking in surprise. She stared for a moment at Storm and at the rabbits by her paws, and then her ears flattened to her skull and she backed away. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Peaceful?” Storm whined. “What’s wrong? It’s just me. I know you were exiled from your Pack. I just want to help.”

  The wolf’s tail dropped between her legs and she hung her head. “Oh, Storm. You can’t do that.”

  What did those other wolves do to you? Storm wondered. Why are you so frightened of me? I’m only about half your size.

  She lay down her belly, making herself even smaller, and nudged the rabbits toward Peaceful with her nose. “I know how hard it can be to hunt alone,” she said. “And we owe you so much—Bella and the pups are doing so well now, and if it hadn’t been for you—”

  “Storm, please stop. That’s exactly why you need to leave.” Peaceful shook herself and sat down. “It’s so kind of you, but I can’t accept this prey, and I can’t let you come any closer. I return to my Pack in two days, and if they smell your scent on me, I’ll be in even more trouble. They’ll ask if I’ve been talking to dogs, and I cannot lie to my Pack. Do you understand?”

  Storm wasn’t sure that she did.

  “But you didn’t seek me out, I found you,” she said. “How can they blame you if I decide to bring you something to eat? And who cares what they think anyway?” she added, with a low growl.

  “I do,” Peaceful said gently. “They’re my Pack. I can’t leave them, so I must live by their rules.”

  “But their rules are foolish, if they punish you for showing kindness to creatures who need you. Dogs and wolves are so alike. . . .”

  Peaceful huffed and shook her head. “Don’t let any other wolf hear you say so! It’s one of the oldest rules of the wolf Pack. We believe that wolves are the first creation of the Great Wolf who made the whole world, and the most important. We don’t lower ourselves to ally with any other creature, especially not dogs. Sometimes,” she added, looking around as if she was afraid she might be overheard, “I think that rule was made because dogs are so much like us. To keep us thinking we’re better. We might not be able to look down on dogs so comfortably if we spent more time with them.”

  “I knew a dog who was half wolf, once,” Storm said. “If all wolves believe that dogs are so far below them, then . . .”

  Peaceful’s eyes went wide. “His Mother- or Father-Wolf must have been very brave, or very stupid, to mate with a dog.”

  Which were Alpha’s parents? Storm wondered. Were they brave or stupid? Perhaps they were a little of both.

  “I wish I could accept the help and friendship you’re offering, Storm,” said Peaceful. “But I cannot antagonize Alpha any more. I’ve already been shown mercy.”

  “You have?” Storm whined. “But they seemed so angry.”

  “Most of my kind consider dogs our enemy. To them, I am the worst sort of traitor. But two days is not very long,” Peaceful panted, relaxing a little and scratching behind her ear with one of her huge, powerful back paws. “I was given a light punishment, because I am the Healer wolf and they don’t want me to be away long, not really. I must respect that and not make things worse, for me or my Pack.”

  “I understand,” said Storm. She pawed at one of the rabbits. “I suppose I should go, then. And . . . I’ll take my one rabbit with me. The one rabbit I brought here.”

  Peaceful’s ears twitched with amusement.

  “You are funny, Storm. Take both rabbits—the pups need them more than I do. But thank you again. I wish you and your Pack good hunting, and the blessings of the Great Wolf.”

  Storm bowed her head. “And may the Spirit Dogs watch over you too, Peaceful.”

  She picked up both rabbits and turned away.

  Even though Peaceful hadn’t seemed too sad to send her away, Storm felt a gloom descend over her as she walked.

  Peaceful had done nothing any rational dog or wolf could call wrong. It was only the wolves’ strange beliefs that had forced them to punish her.

  The echo of her own exile from the Wild Pack stung, as if she was walking through thorns.

  Peaceful is a good wolf, and I’m a good dog, she thought. I may not always have followed the rules, but all I ever wanted to do was keep the Pack safe. Sweet and Lucky should have understood that.

  So why didn’t they?

  The Spirit Dogs had shown no sign that they distrusted Storm or thought her a bad dog, so why would the dogs in her Pack? They weren’t stupid dogs, not really, but something kept on making them push her away. Whenever she thought she was earning their trust, something would happen or some dog would say something about Fierce Dogs and she would find herself under suspicion again. . . .

  Could it possibly have been a coincidence? That when some dog tried to defend her, they always somehow made it worse? Breeze’s voice echoed in her mind, and there was a sly tone in it that Storm hadn’t noticed before. She wondered if she was imagining it.

  Not Storm . . . she’s not like those other Fierce Dogs . . . she’s big and strong but she wouldn’t hurt us. . . .

  Maybe Breeze hadn’t said those exact words, not all together, but she’d said things like them, and the effect had always been to make the rest of the Pack more suspicious, not less.

  Storm’s fur bristled, the way it did when she was out on a hunt, or a patrol, and thought she could sense a . . . presence. She knew that there was a reason she was remembering this, but she could not put her paw on what it was.

  Why am I remembering Breeze sticking up for me? she wondered. Because there was something strange . . . not about what she said, but how she—

  A furious howl split the air around Storm, and her ears pressed to her skull as she looked around to see wolves—three of them, approaching her at the speed of the Wind-Dogs.

  “There she is!” one of them barked.

  Storm knew she should run, but her legs were stiff with panic, and she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was walking, her head too full of betrayal and confusion to heed what her nose was telling her. She was back on the wolves’ territory again. She turned clumsily on the spot—she had to get out, but which was the way back to her own camp?

  Spirit Dogs, where am I?

  And then there were two more wolves melting out of the shadows of the trees, and one of them was the giant Alpha, her long fangs bared in an angry snarl.

  “Are you so stupid, dog? Do you not understand me when I tell you this is our territory? Answer!”

  “I understand,” Storm growled, almost involuntarily, dropping her rabbits at her paws. “I made a mistake, that’s all.”

  “You certainly did. The Still-Water Pack does not suffer dogs to stroll through our territory whenever they please.” She raised her head and howled. “Bright, give this dog her third warning.”

  Storm saw an opening between two of the wolves and tried to dart between them, but one of them raised her huge paws and brought them down on Storm’s flank, knocking her off-balance. “Not so fast, dog,” she barked, baring her teeth, about to snap at Storm’s foreleg. Storm twisted, raking her claws through the wolf’s thick fur. She didn’t think she’d hurt her—the wolf yelped, but with surprise, not pain—but it was enough of a distraction to wri
ggle up and out of her grip.

  Then the other three wolves piled in.

  Teeth closed over Storm’s tail. She yelped and snapped at the closest wolf, a red mist of fury starting to creep around the edges of her vision. She found herself tearing at a mouthful of fur, tasting blood. The wolf howled and swiped at Storm’s muzzle, but she held on tight. The teeth in her tail let go and so did she. She spun, snapping at the wolves in turn, making herself a moving, biting target.

  Again, she felt the smack of huge paws on her side and almost went down, but this time she writhed and skittered away, kicking up a small shower of crunching leaves.

  Wherever she turned, there were at least two wolves she couldn’t see. She felt claws catch in the skin on her back but shook them off and turned, fast, and managed to seize the wolf’s ear between her teeth. It tore, and the wolf cringed back with a whimper of pain before lunging forward again and head-butting Storm in the chest. Storm tumbled backward as the great thump knocked the air out of her. She landed on her back, right under a wolf’s muzzle. She scrambled to her paws again, wincing as the wounds on her back stretched and rubbed across the ground. Her chest ached, and her tail stung, but she was alive.

  They can’t be trying to kill me, she thought. He could have torn my throat out.

  Now the wolves were circling her, growling but wary, and she forced herself to growl and snap at them again, even though breathing was hard and she was starting to tire.

  They’re not used to prey that bites back! she thought.

  The wolves were so comfortable in their valley, with no real enemies, they weren’t expecting her to put up any kind of fight. But even so, how long would they keep this up? She could feel the blood running down her tail, and as she tried to dodge another snap, her back leg gave way underneath her and she sprawled in the red leaves. She staggered back up, her breath rasping in her throat. One of the wolves lunged to her left and she dodged away—too late, she saw the wolf’s paw coming in on her right, felt its claws connect with the side of her muzzle. She tumbled back to the ground, hot blood running down the side of her face, afraid to open her eye.

  Get up. Get. Up.

  She started to feel panic bubbling in her stomach. Had she been foolish to believe in the promise of three warnings? This was starting to feel like much more than a warning. After all, how could she be sure that wolves always did what they said? Her legs were shaking, but she pulled herself to her paws. Another wolf paw slammed down toward her, and she reared back and caught the leg in her jaws instead, but her grip was loose and the wolf tore free easily. She stumbled and then crashed to the ground with the full weight of one of the wolves on her back, its claws ready to rake through her fur. She wriggled desperately, but—

  “That’s enough,” said the Alpha. The wolf on Storm’s back didn’t move. “Errant, enough,” the Alpha growled, so low Storm could almost feel it like a Growl of the Earth-Dog underneath her skin.

  The weight lifted. Storm tried to get up, but the Alpha’s huge paw came down on top of her splayed leg.

  “This was your third and final warning. If you trespass here again, the fourth will be a warning for all your kind.” The Alpha lowered her muzzle so Storm could feel the huge wolf’s breath hot on her face. “Let me say this so that a dog can understand: if we see you here again, we will kill you.”

  She stood back, and all the wolves turned and began to walk away from Storm. She didn’t try to get up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the wolf who the Alpha had called Bright pause and lower her muzzle to the grass, sniffing. Then she raised her head, and Storm saw she had picked up Storm’s prey, the two rabbits, and she trotted after her Alpha with them dangling from her jaws.

  Storm was too tired to feel angry. Instead she lay on her belly, watched the wolves and her catch disappear into the valley, and waited for her strength to return.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Storm limped down the slope into camp, every stumbling step feeling like there were heavy rocks attached to her paws. Her tail hurt when it swung, and it hurt even more when she tried to keep it still. She was desperate to lie down and lick the wounds on her back, but she couldn’t reach.

  Two small dark shapes tumbled over and over in the dry leaves. Storm was happy to see the pups, but guilt pinched her insides too—she’d intended to hunt for them, even if Peaceful had taken the rabbits from her. Now she had nothing, and she would be a burden on the Pack, all because of her own foolishness. . . .

  “Storm! Storm!” yipped Scramble, sitting up on his haunches so fast he lost his balance and tumbled over onto his back.

  Nip looked up, his tongue hanging out, but then shrank back with a whimper, and his eyes grew huge and dark.

  “Storm hurt!” he yelped. “Mother-Dog!”

  Scramble took a few steps toward Storm, then shuffled sideways awkwardly, as if he wanted to come closer but his paws wouldn’t let him.

  Storm sank down into the leaf-strewn grass. “I’m all right, pups,” she said, as reassuringly as she could. “Everything’s okay.”

  Bella emerged from the den and scrambled over to Storm, her ears pinned back. “Storm! What happened to you?”

  Storm swallowed, her throat still feeling raw. She glanced at the pups.

  What can I say? I don’t want to frighten them.

  Bella seemed to understand. She turned to the pups and licked them both on their small, soft heads. “You two go inside the den. Storm’s fine, but you need to get comfy in the new bedding I put down, don’t you?”

  Nip nodded silently, his eyes still wide and fixed on Storm’s wounds.

  “Go on, then.”

  The two pups slowly padded inside the den, and soon Storm heard them yapping and tumbling as their game started up again.

  “Now what happened?” Bella said, sitting down beside Storm and starting to gently lick her wounds. Storm winced as the open scratches along her back moved under Bella’s tongue.

  “I was . . . distracted, on my way back from hunting. I drifted onto wolf territory. They—they know that Peaceful helped us, and they weren’t happy about it.”

  “Oh, Storm,” Bella muttered into her fur.

  “It was my own fault. I didn’t mean to end up back there, but I wasn’t looking where I was going. The Alpha wouldn’t listen to me. She made her wolves attack me . . . they kept pushing me back, clawing me . . . one of them bit my tail,” she whimpered. “I could tell they weren’t going to kill me, but they were so much bigger and stronger, it felt like they could keep going forever. Then the Alpha called them off, and they let me go. But they took the rabbits I’d caught.”

  “So all this was just a warning?” Bella asked.

  “The third warning,” said Storm. “Thoughtful told me that the wolves think in fours: this time it was a warning, but next time they see me, or maybe any of us . . .”

  Bella hesitated in her grooming, and Storm sighed and dropped her muzzle onto her paws.

  “I’m sorry, Bella. I never meant to put any of you in danger. And the pups . . .” Storm squeezed her eyes shut. If this was the Wild Pack, she would be facing more punishment, maybe High Watch or demotion to Patrol Dog, and Lucky would be looking at her with that floppy-eared expression that said, What are we going to do with you, Storm?

  “Well it’s not your fault,” huffed Bella. Storm opened her eyes and turned to look at the golden dog, but one of the wounds across her shoulders pulled painfully and she winced and faced forward again. “It’s those wolves who are being unreasonable,” Bella went on. “You shouldn’t have been on their territory, but you only went there before because you needed help. There’s no need for this. We’ll be careful, Storm, don’t worry. We’ll hunt in the other direction, keep to the uphill slope. And once the pups are old enough we’ll move camp, farther from the wolves. Then they won’t have any reason to hurt us.”

  Storm let out a breath as a long whine. “Thanks, Bella.”

  Bella laid her muzzle down across Storm’s back, a warm
and gentle pressure. “Are you all right, Storm? It’s not like you not to be on your guard.”

  “I was a little distracted,” Storm admitted. “I—well, I met Peaceful. She’s been exiled from her Pack for two days for helping us.”

  Bella gave an angry ruff! “Those wolves! They don’t know what they have in a wolf like Peaceful. They don’t deserve her.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Storm said. “I tried to help her, but she said she had to be loyal to her Pack—even though they called her a bad wolf, when she’s not! It . . . it got me thinking about our Pack. I mean the Wild Pack. They all thought I was a bad dog. . . .”

  “But you’re not.” Bella nodded. “You’re a good dog. All you ever did was try to help and protect them, and they never gave you a chance, not really.”

  Storm whined. “It’s strange, though. If anything, it was trying to help that always seemed to get me in trouble! I wanted to find the bad dog so badly I couldn’t stop poking around. I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time, somehow. It was as if some dog was always telling them not to trust me.” She was about to mention her new thoughts about Breeze before closing her jaws again. Somehow, she was nervous about saying it out loud. The Wild Pack being menaced by a formless bad dog was somehow less scary than believing her former Packmate was behind all the trouble.

  “They just couldn’t let go of their fear of Fierce Dogs,” muttered Bella. “If they couldn’t see the real Storm, that’s their loss. Look at what happened with that snake. You sensed danger and responded before you had even woken up. Even in your sleep, you protected the pups of your Pack!”

  A strange prickling feeling ran down Storm’s back that had nothing to do with the wounds the wolves had inflicted on her. A memory was coming back to her—a vision of darkness, the smell of salt, and the Fear-Dog pacing behind her.

  “In my sleep . . . I sensed danger,” Storm whispered. “That’s right. I thought I was losing my mind—why would I take Tumble from the Pack down to the lakeshore? I knew I meant him no harm, but I couldn’t explain why I did it.”