The little dog just sat on his haunches, watching everything through narrowed eyes—somehow as if he wasn’t seeing the fight at all.
Lucky turned back to his opponent, feeling himself beginning to tire. He had to finish this.
As Snap bared her teeth once more, he was ready; he didn’t want those sharp white fangs in his hide again, but he had to tempt her in. This time, when she leaped for him, he didn’t sidestep her but let her fasten on his shoulder, then whipped his head around to grab the same ear he’d wounded before. Snap howled, but Lucky gave her no time to plead with Sweet. He flung her onto her back and pinned her down with a forepaw to her throat. Her legs kicked and scrabbled, but her claws couldn’t reach his belly.
Through a mouthful of ear he snarled, “Yield!”
Snap yelped with pain and fury, but he released her ear only to snatch a fold of skin at her throat. He shook her. “Yield!”
Very suddenly, Snap went limp, and her tail thudded on the ground behind him. She lifted her paws, letting them hang in the air as she sullenly growled, “I yield.”
The clearing was absolutely silent, every pair of eyes fixed on them as Lucky released Snap and stepped back. The tan-and-white dog rolled onto her paws and struggled up, shaking off the indignity. Her flanks heaved, but so did his. They were both panting from the struggle.
A great gray shadow paced between the ranks of watching dogs; it was the first time Lucky had seen Alpha get off his rock for anything other than to eat or sleep, or to fight. Lucky gave him a wary glance, but the dog-wolf sat down on his haunches beside Sweet, looking from one combatant to the other.
“Impressive,” he rumbled, his yellow eye sparking with fire, “for a City Dog. Snap, you are now demoted one rank. Lucky takes your place as hunter.”
Lucky risked eye contact with his defeated opponent. She was expressionless, and for a horrible moment he thought she might fly at him again, or attack when he turned his back. But after one long, cool look, she lowered her ears and dipped her head.
“I will ask him to teach me some of those City Dog moves, Alpha,” she remarked dryly. “Congratulations, Lucky.”
A flood of relief went through him, together with a thrill at his victory. Lucky let his tongue loll, baring his teeth happily, and lowered his head to accept her lick. “I will be glad to show you a few. If you teach me to move as fast as you can.”
“Done.” Snap’s jaw opened cheerfully too.
“Yes, you both fought well. Now you can stop stroking each other’s backs,” snapped Alpha. “As for the rest of the Pack: It has been clear that Lucky was needed on the patrol, in place of Moon, but he’s a hunter now. Mulch?”
Startled, the black dog took a pace forward. “Yes, Alpha?”
“You are now demoted,” said the dog-wolf brusquely. “You will patrol with Dart and Twitch from this no-sun.”
“What?” Mulch’s surprise and anger must have got the better of his good sense. “Alpha, that is not fair! Demote Spring; she’s lower than me!”
Lucky heard a faint rumble of anger from Twitch’s sister, but she kept her head bowed and her eyes low. She knew better than to stick her snout into another dog’s argument with Alpha.
“Not anymore,” Alpha growled. “Beta, explain to Mulch that he should not question my decisions.”
Sweet bounded forward to give Mulch’s nose a sharp bite that drew blood. He sat back on his haunches, shocked, his eyes dazed with pain, and she gave him a clout with her paw for good measure.
“Moon’s pup Fuzz could have understood that,” she told him sharply. “So I hope you can. Understand?”
“Yes, Beta,” he whined.
“You have not been my best hunter,” said Alpha, with more than a hint of threat in his voice, “to put it mildly. If you are so keen to climb the ranks, you should try harder, instead of whining about other dogs.”
Lucky had got his breath back after the fight, but the tension in the camp was making his flanks heave nervously. I just wanted to rise a few ranks, he thought. I didn’t mean to cause all of this.
“I’ll see how he does on patrol,” Sweet barked. “And take that look off your face, Mulch. You have had this coming since you tried to take Snap’s place in the feeding. Accept it and learn—it will make you a better dog in the future.”
Mulch was trembling as Alpha and Sweet stalked back to the central rock, but Lucky knew it wasn’t only from fear. Sure enough, as soon as they were out of earshot, Mulch slunk to his side.
“You did this to me,” he snarled in Lucky’s ear. “Watch your scabby back, City Dog.”
Lucky watched him creep away, all the more glad that it was not Mulch who he had challenged. That could have gotten even nastier. . . .
He did not have time to dwell on Mulch’s animosity, because the rest of the Pack was crowding around him—even Snap—wagging their tails and giving him friendly barks and licks, congratulating him on his rise in status.
“You really deserve it,” said Twitch. “That was some impressive fighting.” Lucky saw Moon and Fiery exchange a skeptical glance—did they think he had used unfair moves?—but soon Dart and Spring had blocked them from his view as they eagerly added their praises.
Even as he yelped and licked them in return, Lucky could not shake the feeling that the dogs were seeking his favor to ensure that he did not pick on them in the future.
They’re watching their own backs, Lucky thought. Every wag of their tails is . . . tactical. Unlike the Leashed Dogs, Alpha’s followers were not bound together by affection, but by dependence. Personal loyalty was not as important as survival.
Lucky bit back a whine of frustration and confusion. I’m not sure I like the struggle against one another here, he thought. But does this Pack have a better chance of surviving?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Where do you think you’re going, Lucky?” Spring turned to blink at him, one ear cocked and one paw raised. “You’re not sleeping in that drafty old patrol den anymore.”
Once again he felt the stares of the whole Pack on him, and Lucky’s skin went hot beneath his fur. Retreating from his old sleeping place, he followed Spring and Snap to a larger pile of leaves in the cozier shade of the hunting dogs’ den. The snug hollow had been scraped deeper and filled with moss and rotted bark as well as leaves and soft pine branches, and it was certainly a good few paw-paces up from the beds of the patrol dogs.
As he turned his ritual circle, Lucky sent a prayer to the Forest-Dog for safety in his sneaky deception. The Sun-Dog and the Moon-Dog might not approve of what he had just done to Mulch—maybe even the Sky-Dogs would not like it—but he hoped the Forest-Dog at least would appreciate the daring that had lifted him in the ranks, the cunning and trickery that was preserving his fur so far. In the Great Howl that night, Lucky had thought he caught the quick movement of the Forest-Dog running through the undergrowth and felt for a moment a sense of approval, warm as the sun.
The recess where he settled to sleep reeked of Mulch’s dark and musky scent, and he felt a flash of guilt. But he couldn’t allow that to last. Lucky was not happy that he had to deceive them, but he had played by the Pack rules—and that was what Mulch must do too. If he wanted his place back, thought Lucky sternly, he could fight for it.
Fiery’s bulk shifted beside him as the huge dog grunted and began snoring. He had been no more friendly to Lucky after the fight, but at least he had not been antagonistic either. Snap and Spring, who slept on his other side, had welcomed him into the hunting division with some warmth.
“We can use your quick moves hunting,” Snap had said, as Spring wagged her agreement. “And your cleverness as well.” Lucky admired Snap enormously for that. The rest of the Pack—the patrol dogs and the humble little Omega—had definitely gained respect for him, and they had treated him with deference today, though he was glad to realize his friendship with Twitch still seemed intact.
There was only one problem, he realized with a horrible suddenness. He wasn’t on pa
trol anymore . . . so sneaking out of the camp to see Bella was going to be more difficult from now on. Lucky felt a burning tingle in his belly—he had got so caught up in rising through the ranks, he hadn’t stopped to consider that he might actually be creating a problem for himself. Resting his muzzle on his forepaws, he pricked his ears and gazed up at the stars. How many nights had it been since he’d seen Bella? The Leashed Dog Pack could be in serious trouble, and he would have no idea.
They could also have found clean water of their own by now. What if Bella came out every night to meet Lucky, to tell him that it was fine to return, that he did not have to spy on the Wild Pack anymore, but Lucky could not get the message because he could not speak with his litter-sister? Would he be stuck here, in Alpha’s Pack, forever?
And would that really be a bad thing?
He heaved a sigh. The black sky of no-sun was clear and cloudless, the stars pinpricks of glittering clear-stone. Lucky could make out all the constellations: the wily Rabbit, the Wolf and her Cub, the Great Tree, and the Running Squirrel. They seemed to spin above him, whirling and taunting, until his eyelids began to droop and sleep fuzzed his brain.
Distantly, a sound pierced his doze: the caw of a crow among the trees. In an instant Lucky was awake again. On one side of him Fiery snored mightily; on the other, heaped against each other, Snap’s and Spring’s flanks rose and fell with the steady rhythm of deep sleep.
He’d never known crows to be so fond of no-sun. But it reminded him he wanted to try to see Bella, to find out if he needed to go on with this deception. The Moon-Dog was climbing the sky now.
Heart pounding, Lucky eased up and slunk between the others’ sleeping forms. His breath caught in his throat when Fiery’s leg twitched twice, but after a moment the big dog’s snores rumbled again like the Sky-Dogs’ thunder. He was just dreaming.
Stepping carefully on the softest moss and moldy leaves, Lucky picked his way with painful slowness out of the hunters’ den. From the position of the Great Tree and the height of the Moon-Dog, he thought it must be Dart’s turn on watch; but she was looking for enemies trying to get into the camp. She would never expect an enemy trying to sneak out.
All he had to do was stay low, keep to the undergrowth, and be silent. So long as he did not trip over Dart as she made her rounds, he should be able to get safely away from the clearing. Then it was an easy run to the longpaw camp, and he would have plenty of time before the Moon-Dog yawned and went to sleep.
A twig cracked under his paw, and his heart almost stopped. But no dog stirred, and he placed one paw after another cautiously, scared with every step that he would make a noise that would wake one of his Pack. He had to crouch low to avoid the branches, too, and that did not make it any easier to be silent. But at last he was beyond the thickest of the undergrowth, and could stand tall again, and spring into a scamper.
It was a relief to stretch his legs and run, after the dreadful, tense creep-and-crawl out of the camp. Lucky breathed in the cool air of no-sun as he bounded through the trees and across the meadow. The stars above him, the solid ground beneath his feet, and the smell of the forest: This was perfect. This was how he was meant to be. Free and happy. No one watching him or expecting his aid. Alone!
Craaarrrk!
That no-sun crow again! Now he remembered seeing it before on his travels, and he was more certain than ever that it was a messenger of the Forest-Dog, sent to keep him in order.
He wished he could understand its messages better.
His happy heart plummeted when he caught the first scent of the longpaw camp, and he slowed to a jogging pace, then a steady plod. Oh, Sky-Dogs, what am I doing?
Once inside the camp he stood still beside an overturned table, sniffing the air. It was hard to tell through the old reek of charred wood and meat, but he was sure Bella was not here. A wasted journey, then.
So why did he feel this swamping sense of relief?
Lucky was tempted to pad away as fast as he could. If Bella had not made it here tonight, that was not his fault. He could put off his treachery for another journey of the Sun-Dog.
He had already begun to turn when a flash of pale fur caught his eye. Hesitating, he looked back. Two small, familiar figures were squirming out from beneath another toppled table, panting with excitement.
“Lucky!” Sunshine’s yelp was quieter than usual, he was glad to hear.
“Sunshine. Daisy!” Despite his uneasiness, Lucky felt his heart stir with warmth at the sight of the two Leashed Dogs. He crouched to lick their faces as they both jumped up to greet him. Then his heartbeat skipped. “Where is Bella? Has something happened to her?”
“No, no—nothing bad has happened!” Sunshine whined happily as she nuzzled his nose. “Bella’s fine. She sent us to meet you.”
Daisy jumped in. “She has a special mission of her own. So she sent us in her place!” Lucky could see that the little dog was almost bursting with pride.
Lucky felt his eyes narrow. “What is she up to now?” It was not like Bella to hand over control to the most junior members of her Pack; he was sure she would have wanted to talk to him herself if she could.
“Bella has a brilliant plan,” said Daisy. “We have to trust her!”
Lucky cocked his head doubtfully—Bella’s recent “brilliant plans” have brought us a lot of trouble—but the little dogs’ eyes gleamed with suppressed excitement. He could not cope with any more scheming, anyway; not right now, when he was still deep in the heart of the Wild Pack. Whatever it was, Bella could deal with it on her own this time.
“All right. I will tell you what I have seen.” He licked his chops. “Will you remember it all to take back to Bella?”
“Between us we will,” yelped Daisy eagerly.
It seemed he had little choice. It felt strange reporting back to these two inexperienced Leashed Dogs, especially now that he had lived with a true disciplined Pack, but he carefully recounted all that he had done and seen since he last spoke to Bella, including the terrifying encounter with the yellow-furred longpaws, his challenge to Snap, and his promotion.
“But that . . . that is so strange,” said Sunshine, awed. “Do you have to fight all the time in that Pack?”
Lucky squirmed inwardly. “Not all the time, Sunshine. Just . . . when we want to rise in the Pack.” Said like that, to these friendly dogs with their easygoing solidarity, it sounded silly and aggressive.
But Daisy cheered him. “Oh, Lucky! You’re so brave!” She gave a happy yelp. “And so clever!”
Sunshine panted up at him, adoring, her misgivings instantly forgotten. “Now you will be able to find out even more about our enemies!”
“Yes . . .” Lucky found he didn’t like that phrase. The Wild Pack did not feel like his enemies—most of them, anyway. And he did not want enemies any more than he wanted a Pack.
The two went together, he supposed.
“We will let Bella know,” yapped Daisy. “She will be so proud of you!”
Lucky ignored this, and asked, “How is Bruno? And Martha?”
Sunshine’s dark eyes veered away, as if the edge of the clearing was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Daisy sat back and scratched her belly.
“They are getting better, but they need more time. Martha’s leg wound was really very, very bad.”
“And Bruno was so unwell,” put in Sunshine. “Thank the Sky-Dogs that you were there to save him, Lucky, or he might have choked!”
Lucky whined in confusion. “They should be getting better by now. Especially Martha . . .”
“Oh, there was some poison in her leg. Maybe from swimming! She is getting better, but it’s taking longer than we thought it would.”
Sunshine still avoided meeting his eye, and Lucky felt a tremor of sick anxiety in his belly. Poison in a wound? That might get better if Martha licked it well, but what if the poison got too deeply into her leg? And Bruno . . .
“They are going to be fine, Lucky. Don’t worry.”
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Sunshine, usually so full of drama whether it was good or bad, sounded quite flat. Lucky could not shake the feeling that she was lying to him—but why? Could the news be worse than they were letting on? It seemed the only explanation: that they were trying to protect him from some kind of horrible truth.
Martha, Bruno. You came so far with me. Please be all right.
Did he have time to go back to Bella’s Pack and see for himself? The Moon-Dog was padding languidly across the sky, the time of no-sun coming to an end. But perhaps . . .
“Lead me to the camp,” he told them. “I really should talk to Bella. And maybe I can help Martha and Bruno.”
“She’s not finished with her mission,” Daisy yipped, her tongue lolling. “And the Sun-Dog will be up and running soon.”
Lucky whined his agreement. He did have to get back to the hunters’ den.
I’ll just have to trust Sunshine and Daisy.
“Then I guess I should get back,” he said, “before anyone wakes up and realizes I’m gone.” He licked Daisy’s ears affectionately. “When I do come back, I’ll have some great hunting tricks to show everybody. We will never be hungry again.”
“You’ll be a terrific teacher, Lucky,” Daisy said. “You always are.”
“It has been so good to see you, Lucky!” yipped Sunshine. She looked mournful. “We miss you a lot. Especially me and Daisy.”
“That’s why we offered to come in Bella’s place,” said Daisy with a whine of agreement.
“I miss you, too,” Lucky assured them, caressing their heads fondly with his tongue. “But it will not be forever. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I hope so, anyway.
As he licked and yipped his farewells and trotted away into the woods again, he felt sick with worry.
Earth-Dog, we already lost Alfie. Surely you can’t want two more of my friends. Not now.
Lucky could barely focus on the sounds of the forest around him, on the stir of leaves and the rustle of small beasts in the undergrowth. It was only when a bigger shadow flickered through the bushes that he was finally jolted out of his unhappy thoughts.