She looked up and realized that Bella had sat up on her haunches and was staring at her, her head cocked to one side.
“That was the reason I had to leave the Wild Pack,” Storm explained, getting up stiffly. “In my sleep, I took Tumble down to the lake and told him to hide there, in a cave. Tumble didn’t know why I did it, and I couldn’t remember, but now I know I was dreaming about the Fear-Dog.”
She shook herself, even though it made her wolf scratches sting.
“I was trying to save Tumble. I sensed danger in the Pack, danger very close to the pups . . . and in my dream before I caught the snake, I didn’t see the snake. I saw the bad dog.” A cold feeling washed over Storm, as if she was back in the rushing river and the water was closing over her head.
If I’m such a good dog, so protective, why did I let them drive me out? The bad dog is still there . . . close to the pups . . . why did I think that leaving would stop them getting hurt?
“I hate how that Pack treated you,” Bella muttered, licking her ear. “You and Arrow are some of the best dogs I know, but their bullying made you doubt your own true natures.”
“They were scared,” Storm replied. “Dogs were being killed. I can’t truly blame them for looking at the biggest, strongest dogs.”
“And yet nobody questioned Bruno,” Bella growled. “He was one of the largest dogs in the Pack, and he was certainly not a better dog, deep down, than you or Arrow. He shouldn’t have been above suspicion just because he wasn’t a Fierce Dog!”
But perhaps he wasn’t suspected because no dog was making him sound guilty no matter what he did.
Storm took a deep breath. She needed to share what had been troubling her—the strange sense that something was wrong, if only she could put her paw on what it was. . . . Maybe, if she talked to another dog about it, her thoughts might become clearer.
“Bella, I’ve been wondering . . . if perhaps Breeze is not the dog she appears to be.” Bella shot Storm a sharp look, so she rushed on, “I know it sounds strange. She always seemed so nice and she always spoke up for me. But now that I think about it, whenever she spoke on my behalf, somehow the Pack seemed to trust me less. And Arrow told me he once caught her dragging a live rabbit around. . . .”
Storm trailed off. It was sounding flimsy even to her, and she already wished she hadn’t said anything.
“It doesn’t sound strange.” Bella stopped. Storm waited to see what she would say, but Bella didn’t go on, just pawed at the crunchy leaves.
“What happened?” Storm prompted.
“I’ve never even told Arrow this,” Bella said. “I didn’t want to upset him—or risk him losing his temper and confronting her, when that would just have proved her point. But one time, before any of them knew that Arrow and I were mates, I overheard Breeze talking to Rake. She said Arrow was a dirty Longpaw Fang and a murderer.”
“Breeze? You’re sure it was her?” Storm’s heart was beating faster.
Why would she say that?
“Yes,” Bella sighed. “And like you say, she was one of the nicer dogs, at least to our faces.”
“Did she call Arrow by name?” Storm asked Bella slowly.
Bella thought for a moment, scratching behind her ear with her back paw. “No,” she said eventually. “She just said ‘that mongrel Fierce Dog.’”
Storm’s stomach dropped as she met Bella’s eyes, and Bella’s ears pricked in surprise.
“You think she meant you?”
“Has Arrow ever killed another dog?” Storm asked. “Because I have. I killed Terror, and Blade. If Breeze thought one of us was a murderer . . . I think it would be me.”
“Storm, you’re not a murderer,” Bella said, sternly. “You killed two bad dogs, both in battle. You made sure that Terror and Blade couldn’t hurt any dog anymore. That doesn’t make you bad.”
“I know,” said Storm. But she wondered if every dog saw it that way.
Breeze said one of us was a Longpaw Fang and a murderer. . . .
Breeze hunted for herself, cruelly torturing her prey. . . .
Some dog had been turning the Pack against Storm all this time. Some dog had wanted them all to think that a large, vicious dog had murdered Whisper and Bruno. Some dog who had fooled them all.
She had suspected Terror’s Pack, hadn’t she? And Breeze was one of them. Woody, Ruff, and Rake had left, which meant they couldn’t have killed Bruno or slipped in and out of the Wild Pack’s territory unnoticed as the bad dog had seemed to.
But Breeze had chosen to stay.
So had Chase—but when Storm had confronted Chase, she had been so terrified, so sure that Storm was going to hurt her.
Breeze was never afraid of me, Storm realized. Not when dogs were killed . . . not even when Daisy told the Pack I was sleepwalking.
But what did that mean? Did it make her a scheming bad dog, or just a good Packmate? After all, Breeze had always stood up for Storm. Storm remembered the brown dog’s face, wide-eyed and creased with concern, looking from Storm to the other dogs, as if she couldn’t believe Storm was being accused of anything.
How could that dog, Storm’s friend, be bad enough to kill other dogs in cold blood?
It still felt impossible, but Storm forced herself to say it out loud. “Breeze could have been the bad dog all along.”
Bella chewed at her front paw anxiously. “It’s possible. She’s the one dog who we know isn’t honest.”
Breeze had always stood up for Storm, but what had she actually said? Wasn’t it usually something like, I don’t mean Storm, just a dog as big as Storm or Just because Bruno was killed the way Storm killed Terror, it doesn’t mean it was her?
Hadn’t Storm already realized some dog had been undermining her the whole time?
A shudder passed through Storm, and she suddenly felt a jittery energy in her paws.
Breeze had always defended Storm, but her comments had always made things worse. Sometimes, Breeze had jumped to defend Storm before any other dog had even mentioned her name. If it hadn’t been for Breeze, maybe suspicion wouldn’t have fallen on her at all!
“Maybe it was all part of a plan to get me to leave,” Storm wondered aloud, “if she really hates me that much. Maybe the bad things have stopped now that I’ve left.”
Bella didn’t look convinced.
Or maybe I left the Pack in great danger? An unwelcome thought crept into her mind. Maybe I shouldn’t have left. Perhaps I’ve doomed them all? She shook herself, making her cuts sting. No.
When I left, it seemed there was no solution, no way of knowing who the traitor was. I would never have learned all this if I hadn’t come here.
Certainty settled on her, like snow on the grass. Although excitement was prickling her pelt, inside she felt calmer than she could remember feeling in many moons. “Breeze is the bad dog.”
“Storm?” said a small voice, and Storm turned to see Nip and Scramble, both sitting right behind her.
“Pups, you shouldn’t sneak up on dogs like that,” Bella chided gently.
“It’s all right,” said Storm, leaning down to give the two pups a lick each.
“Storm,” said Nip again, putting his tiny nose right up to Storm’s much larger one, “did you have a fight?”
“Did you win?” Scramble asked.
“Yes,” she said out loud, as she and Bella shared a solemn look. “I fought and won.”
I only wish that were true.
Storm lay in the clearing, watching the pups play and letting her wounds heal, until the shadows lengthened and a chill started to creep up from the ground. Arrow returned, his jaws full of prey—not as much as they would have had if Storm had hunted too, but enough to feed them all for the night. He saw Storm’s scratches and his eyes went wide, but Bella gave him a sharp look and he didn’t ask any questions.
Storm sat and chewed on her mouthful of prey, and watched the rest of her little Pack. Bella was rolling on the ground, with Scramble bouncing around her as if he was try
ing to hunt prey ten times his size, his ears flopping around his face as he growled and sprang. Nearer the den, Arrow was showing Nip how he turned a sleep-circle, treading down the ground to make sure it was comfortable, then curling up with his tail under his nose. The tiny puppy tucked his head in so neatly he looked almost like a furry rock, except that his tail was out and thumping happily on the ground.
This Pack needs me too, Storm thought. But there is no traitor dog here. The pups will be safe with Bella and Arrow, as long as the wolves keep their promises.
Suddenly, the effort of all this thinking, and of fighting off the wolves and dragging herself back to the camp, caught up with Storm. Her eyes closed, and opening them again was like climbing a steep hill.
“All right, let’s get inside. We all need to rest, especially Storm,” said Bella, throwing a stern glance at Storm. Storm nodded and turned toward the den she had made for herself behind the wall of vines. But before she ducked inside and turned her sleep-circle, she stopped and looked up at the sky between the tall trees. There were no clouds tonight, and faint twinkling lights winked at her from the deep darkness.
Sky-Dogs, she thought. You see everything. Please, if the Wild Pack is in danger, if I should go back, send me a sign. . . .
Storm woke up to the sensation of damp under her and a chill in her bones. She hadn’t dreamed at all, that she could remember, but she didn’t feel as if she had rested well either. Her legs seemed to creak as she stood up and trod down the ground around her bedding of leaves and moss. It must have rained hard in the night, and the water had soaked through the earth to reach her sheltered den.
She stretched and stepped outside. The leaves didn’t crunch anymore; instead they were like soft mulch under her paws, disintegrating into the mud wherever she walked. Wisps of mist had collected in the hollow, and they swirled and backed away from Storm when she breathed near them.
The light from the Sun-Dog hadn’t found its way down here yet. Storm looked up, and a prickling unease ran all the way down her back from the tips of her ears to her stiff tail.
The light was red, deeper and darker than she thought light could be.
Storm scrambled to the top of the slope and looked out. The whole sky was bloodred. The Sun-Dog was starting to poke his ears over the horizon, but they were a fiery dark orange, and the clouds were lit up with burning bright lines of red and gold.
Blood and fire. That can only mean danger.
“I understand,” Storm whispered. Her heart was racing. “The Pack is in danger. Terrible danger. I must go back.”
She stood there a moment longer, held down by the weight of the Sky-Dogs’ answer.
“You wouldn’t show me this if it was too late,” she barked at the sky. “I have a long way to go, but there’s still hope! There must be!”
As she watched, holding her breath for a response from the Sky-Dogs, she realized that already the bloodred sky was fading back into the clear blue of a new morning.
Storm stretched, testing her muscles. Her paws, at least, didn’t hurt anymore. That was good. She would be able to travel, even if her wolf wounds still ached.
She needed to eat, and then she needed to leave.
She returned to the camp as the Sun-Dog was peeking down into the clearing over the tops of the trees, and laid her catch down in the empty cleared space that was the small Pack’s prey pile. She had hunted alone, up the slope away from the wolves’ territory, and had been relieved to find there were signs of prey there, enough burrows and nests to keep the pups fed for a little while. She had caught a dozy rabbit and several large mice.
“Storm? You’ve been hunting early. Are you feeling better?” asked Bella, stretching and yawning as she came out of the den.
Storm sat back on her haunches as Arrow came after her and the pups followed them on wobbly, sleepy legs.
“Bella, Arrow. I need to tell you something,” she said.
The two dogs looked at each other, their ears pricking up in surprise. “Sounds serious,” muttered Arrow. “Is everything all right?”
“Storm, are you . . . leaving us?” Bella whined.
“Not for good,” Storm said. “But yes. I have to go. If I don’t, I’m afraid Breeze will hurt the pups, or even destroy the Pack. They weren’t kind to me, but they need my help, so I have to go.”
She looked at the two pups, watching her from behind their parents’ tails.
“I won’t stay there. This is my Pack now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Storm,” said Arrow, “are you sure? You could be putting yourself in danger going back there. How are you sure it’s Breeze?”
“I’m sure,” Storm replied. “Bella can tell you.”
“I’d say we would come with you,” Bella whined. “You shouldn’t have to do this on your own—but the pups are too small to travel so far.”
“I know,” Storm said, her heart swelling. “Don’t worry about me. You look after the pups, and each other, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
“You’re a part of this Pack too, you know,” Arrow said. “It isn’t us and the pups, plus you. It’s all of us, and we stand together.” He glanced at Bella and then went on. “I know you’ll do what you have to do. But we won’t just let you go off thinking you’re alone. If you’re not back after ten journeys of the Sun-Dog, we will come and find you.”
“That’s right,” Bella said. She walked up to Storm and pressed the top of her head against Storm’s neck, comforting and stern all at the same time.
Storm felt as if joy and sadness were filling her up, starting at her paws and washing right up to her ears.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
Arrow came up beside his mate and rested his chin on Storm’s shoulder.
“You don’t need to say anything. Just hurry back.”
Storm pulled away at last. “I will.”
“And don’t let my litter-brother or his mate push you around,” said Bella, her eyes wide with worry. “If they won’t listen to you . . . well, you make them listen.”
I’ll have to, Storm thought. I don’t know if any dog will believe what I have to say. After all, I can barely believe it myself.
She bent her head so she was on eye level with the two pups, who were whispering to each other. “Pups? I need to go away for a little while. Will you come and say good-bye?”
Nip and Scramble bounced up to her and head-butted her legs, their tails wagging. Storm licked them each in turn.
“Good-bye, Nip. Good-bye, Scramble.”
“Don’t forget Tufty,” Nip barked.
“Storm is in a hurry, Nip,” Bella chided him gently.
Storm sighed, but she might as well indulge the pups just this once.
“Good-bye for now, Tufty,” she said, looking slightly to one side of Nip and hoping she had gotten the right place. The pups seemed satisfied. “Be good. I’ll miss you all.”
“It’s okay, Storm,” said Scramble seriously. “Tufty will visit you. She’ll tell us you’re okay.”
“Er . . . good. Thanks, Tufty,” Storm said awkwardly. I love these pups, she thought. I just wish they were a little less . . . creepy. “I’ll see you all soon.”
“Good luck,” said Bella, stepping back. “Spirit Dogs go with you.”
“Go quickly, and may the Watch-Dog guide your pawsteps,” Arrow added in a low voice. “If you’re really going to face the bad dog, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
“Thanks,” Storm said, and turned away before she could change her mind. She had to do this. When she got to the top of the slope, she looked back just once at the worried, hopeful faces of her Packmates before walking away.
She only hoped she wasn’t already too late.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Storm tried to focus on saving her energy as she ran through the steep woods, scrambling down slopes and then clambering up over rocks. She couldn’t sprint headlong toward the Pack, not with the wolf scratches that might reopen
if she wasn’t at least a little careful. She would be no use to them if she arrived all dizzy and sick from the wounds going bad.
She focused on her paws hitting the ground, on the feeling of her aching wounds itching as they began to heal, and on making sure she kept scenting around—the last thing she needed was to stray onto wolf territory again. She kept far away from the stream, veering so far from it that she was almost running in the wrong direction to get back to the Wild Pack’s camp. She had to find the Endless Lake—that was the quickest way. She could just follow the sandy shoreline and the cliffs all the way back. It had taken her many journeys of the Sun-Dog to get here, but she hadn’t been trying to go fast then. If she kept her focus and only paused to rest and eat, she might even make it back to the Light House before the Sun-Dog went down to his den beyond the sea. As long as she didn’t get distracted—or killed by angry wolves along the way.
And of course, if she could find the Endless Lake.
She paused, though it was frustrating to have to stop moving when the Sun-Dog would not. The Endless Lake scent was here, she could smell it, but it was annoyingly vague. She wasn’t on very familiar territory, and while she couldn’t scent wolves, she couldn’t scent much else either except for pine trees and the old trails of creatures who had already moved on.
“Come on,” she muttered, sniffing the air, then turning her nose to the ground, and then to the sides of the trees. “Wind-Dogs, help me—where is the lake?”
There was no extra breath of wind as an answer, but a moment later Storm’s ears pricked up as a harsh squawk rang through the air from somewhere to her left. Her head twisted around, pulling uncomfortably at the scab that was forming over her shoulder wound.
“The white birds!” she yapped. “Thank you, Wind-Dogs!” I’d know that annoying noise anywhere. Turning toward it with a new spring in her step, she put on an extra burst of careful speed.
Storm soon found her muzzle filling with the salty scent of the Endless Lake as she followed the sound of the birds, and finally the trees thinned and turned to low scrubby bushes. Just as Storm noticed that the ground under her paws was becoming rocky and sandy, the land in front of her fell away in a rough slope and she saw the Endless Lake.