Page 16 of A Pack Divided


  “That’s how we feel,” groaned Woody.

  “Was it the foxes?” Lucky’s eyes were bright with alarm. “Or did you run into more—” He shut his jaws as his gaze slanted toward Storm, and he swallowed his next words.

  Storm’s head drooped with exhaustion and misery. She knew exactly what he’d been about to say: Did you run into more Fierce Dogs?

  Mickey padded forward, his shoulders hunched and his head low with shame. “I’m sorry, Lucky. The truth is, we tried to take prey from a giantfur. Needless to say, we didn’t succeed.”

  Lucky could only stare at him for long moments, as if lost for words. At last he exploded: “Whose ridiculous idea was that?”

  “Every dog’s.” Mickey sighed with resignation. “We all agreed to give it a try. It was an honest mistake, Lucky, and we won’t make it again.”

  “It wasn’t every dog,” growled Woody. “Storm talked us into it. It was her idea.”

  Lucky turned to him, his muzzle curling. “Don’t lie to me, Woody. Storm wouldn’t suggest anything so stupid. Are you blaming her because she’s a Fierce Dog? Because I’m sick of—”

  “No.” Storm shoved past Woody and stood foursquare in front of Lucky. But she couldn’t meet his eyes; she could only stare dismally at the ground, her tail trembling against her rump. Who knew blades of grass could be so fascinating? Right now I want to look at them forever. . . .

  “Storm?” Lucky cocked his ears expectantly.

  “I—” She coughed to clear her throat. “It’s true, Beta. It was my idea. And I kept pressing Mickey to do it.”

  “No! It wasn’t Storm!” The high bark came from behind her.

  I don’t believe this. She turned, startled. Not again!

  But there he was at her shoulder, the adoring gray dog who was fast becoming her worst nightmare. “It was my idea,” announced Whisper. “It was all my fault, Beta.”

  Storm wanted to bite Whisper’s ears off. She snarled at him. “Stop lying for me! I don’t want you to! What is it with you, Whisper?”

  “That’s enough.” Lucky’s cold voice made them all turn quickly back to him. His normally gentle eyes were contemptuous. “All four of you should have known better. I’m disappointed in you.” His stare seemed to focus particularly on her, thought Storm with a sinking heart. But that’s fair enough.

  “You’ll all have to hunt again this evening,” Lucky went on. “I don’t care how tired you are; the Pack can’t go hungry just because you acted rashly. Incompetently. Go and get some rest; you’re going to need it.” With a dismissive flick of his tail, he stalked away, stiff with anger.

  Woody, Whisper, and Mickey slunk off, heads low and tails clamped to their rumps, but Storm lingered, staring after Lucky. I’ve let him down so badly.

  Making a sudden decision, she sprang to catch up with him. “Lucky! Beta, I mean.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. To her relief, his face was no longer filled with fury, but if anything, the disappointment in his eyes hurt her more. Trying to ignore the gnawing sensation of shame in her gut, Storm padded to his side.

  Humbly, she lowered her forequarters. “Beta. May I speak with you?”

  He looked at her askance. “All right,” he told her gruffly. “Don’t imagine I’ve forgotten the giantfur, though. How could you be so rash, Storm?”

  “I know. And I’m sorry.” She thumped her tail miserably against the earth.

  “Follow me.” Without another word he set off in the direction of the pond, and she hurried to obey him.

  The water looked cool, dark, and delicious, fringed thickly with reeds, and Storm would have loved to plunge straight into it to soothe her paws, but she didn’t dare. Instead she sat down obediently, head lowered, as Lucky walked forward to the edge of the pond to greet Twitch.

  The three-legged dog lurched to his paws, returning Lucky’s friendly licks. “You two look as if you want some privacy,” he growled amicably. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  “No, Twitch, stay.” Lucky sat back on his haunches. “I think Third Dog should be part of this conversation. Don’t you agree, Storm?”

  I thought I could speak to you alone. . . . Her heart sank heavily, but she nodded. “Yes, Beta.”

  Lucky tilted his head to study her as Twitch lay down again, his eyes alert. “Storm,” said Lucky, “if you’re worried about something, you can tell me and Twitch. You know that, don’t you?”

  She hesitated, glancing from one to the other.

  “Especially if you don’t want to speak to Alpha directly,” Lucky went on. “We can talk to her on your behalf, if it’s something she needs to deal with. Yes?”

  “Yes,” muttered Storm. She dug her claws into the soft mud, scratching a deep groove.

  “We’ll always help you if we can,” murmured Twitch. “That’s what we’re here for.”

  “It’s really hard to explain.” Storm raised her eyes to theirs at last, tormented. Her stomach felt like a giant knot inside her.

  “Then take your time,” offered Twitch.

  Storm took a deep breath. Did she really want to speak out about this, after so much time spent chewing obsessively on it by herself?

  “I’ve been having bad dreams,” she blurted, before she could think any harder.

  Lucky’s ears pricked up, and he tilted his head.

  “Go on,” said Twitch.

  Storm coughed to clear her throat. It was so hard to talk about it. “I dream about darkness. It’s always no-sun, and there are . . . Fierce Dogs. And the Fear-Dog. I’ve . . . when I have these dreams, I wake up outside.”

  “What?” Twitch’s eyes widened. “Outside your den?”

  “Way outside it,” she muttered. “I wake up right outside the camp. Quite a long way out, sometimes. I don’t ever remember getting there.”

  Beta and Third Dog stared at her, waiting in silence for her to continue. Storm swallowed.

  “I’ve been walking in my sleep,” she confessed at last. “I don’t understand how it happens, but it does.” Her voice rose to a miserable whine. “And I don’t know what it means.”

  Lucky frowned thoughtfully. “Has any other dog seen you do this?”

  “Two dogs know.” Storm’s head sagged. “Please don’t tell the others. Please.”

  Lucky shook his head. “Of course not, Storm,” he said kindly. “Your secret’s safe with us. Right, Twitch?”

  “Absolutely,” confirmed Third Dog. “This is nothing to worry about, Storm. Have you been gnawing at this? All dogs get bad dreams sometimes, and it’s not the first time I’ve heard of dogs walking in their sleep.” He paused, seemed to think hard for a moment, then murmured: “Tell us, Storm. Did you have one of these dreams the night the fox-pup was murdered?”

  Storm took a pace back, feeling her neck fur bristle. What’s he implying? she thought in a panic. But before she could think of a reply, Lucky padded forward.

  “Don’t look like that, Storm. Twitch didn’t mean anything by that, did you?”

  “Of course not,” said Twitch hastily.

  Storm let her back muscles relax slightly, but she furrowed her brow as she watched Lucky. Her Beta’s eyes seemed distant, as if his mind was trying to unravel some intricate, impossible tangle of thoughts.

  “What is it, Lucky?” she asked nervously. “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing.” He looked away sharply, as if the still surface of the pond and its skittering water beetles were suddenly fascinating. “Look, Storm, neither of us thinks for a moment that you had anything to do with the fox-pup.”

  “Absolutely,” agreed Twitch vigorously. “You’re the last dog we’d suspect, Storm, and that’s the truth.”

  “And your secret’s safe with us.” Lucky nuzzled her shoulder, then licked her ear comfortingly. “I’m glad you finally trusted us enough to tell us about your dreams.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” Storm realized it was true. Already her burden seemed lighter, now that she’d shared it w
ith Lucky and Twitch. If things get worse, they’ll know what to do. And I don’t have to feel I’m keeping some terrible secret.

  “I understand why you didn’t. And I understand why you’re anxious, Storm, and I take it seriously, but please try not to worry.” Lucky pressed his muzzle to her cheekbone. “Now, you’d better get some rest. I’m not letting you off of that extra hunt!”

  As Storm trotted back to camp, there was a distinct spring in her step, and her heart felt lighter than it had in many journeys of the Sun-Dog.

  They believed me, she thought. They believed me, and they don’t think I’m crazy or bad.

  Tonight I won’t let Lucky down.

  Evening birdsong filled the clearing as Lucky led the extra hunting party out of the camp, and late slanting sunlight filtered through the branches. Despite her exhaustion, Storm made sure she kept at her Beta’s shoulder, her nostrils wide and all her senses alert.

  It was typical of Lucky, she thought, that despite the late hunt being a punishment, he’d chosen to lead them himself. And in fact, he’d made the last-minute decision to leave Mickey and Woody behind.

  “I know the four of you were trying to help the Pack when you raided that giantfur’s prey,” he’d told them, “but it was such a wrongheaded decision, I can’t risk taking all of you out this time. I need to be sure I can trust you to work together properly. Without showing off,” he’d added, with a pointed glance at Storm. “Best to separate you for now.”

  The four of them had looked appropriately cowed and sheepish, even though Lucky’s fury had abated. We really have learned our lesson, thought Storm. Now we just have to prove it to our Beta.

  Lucky had, however, insisted that Whisper come along. The scout dog was fast, and surprisingly, he wasn’t as tired as the others. Whisper, too, of course, had had a scolding from his Beta.

  “It’s loyal of you to stand up for Storm,” Lucky had told him sternly, “but your loyalty was misplaced. Every dog must learn to stand on his own paws—and that includes you, Whisper. This hunt will be your chance to prove yourself.”

  And Whisper was very eager to do just that. “I’ll show you what I’m worth, Beta, I promise. I won’t let the Pack down!”

  Though his eyes had been fixed on Lucky, Storm knew Whisper’s words had been mostly for her ears. Now the gray dog was trotting ahead of them up the shoreline as they followed the coast of the Endless Lake. The Sun-Dog’s evening light turned the water blood red and the sand to gold, and Storm loved the salty fragrance of the water in her nostrils. Behind her Bella and Snap paced energetically; Storm knew that they too found the Lake’s air refreshingly sharp. It was lighter, somehow, than the air of the deep green woods, yet not nearly as bitter as the winds of the cliff top.

  Maybe we’ll catch some of those fat white birds unawares, she thought hopefully: those ones that nest on the cliffs. Or if we go higher, maybe there will be rabbits.

  And this time I won’t tear them to a pulp. Storm swallowed guiltily, but it was too beautiful an evening to brood about it, and her mood was not crushed for long.

  “Here!” Whisper had stopped right below the rockface, and now he was standing foursquare, his head thrust forward as he scented the breeze. “Weasels, I think.”

  The other four dogs ran to catch up, and Lucky nodded approvingly. “There are definitely some around here. Nesting, maybe.”

  “So what are we waiting for?” said Snap, pricking her ears high. “Let’s get digging!”

  At the base of the cliff, where the dry sand was piled, the rocks and stones were loose, and with the claws of all five dogs working to rake them away, it was short work to expose the small tunnel. The smell of weasel grew stronger as they dug, and Whisper gave a yelp of satisfaction as they finally exposed the squirming creatures.

  The weasels were agile and fast, the young ones almost fully grown, but after much darting and snapping—and dodging the weasels’ tiny fangs—the dogs had managed to kill five of them. Lucky stood back in satisfaction, gazing at the tangle of small red corpses.

  “It’s enough.” He nodded. “Together with what the other hunting party brought back, this will feed the Pack for tonight.”

  “We should find more!” Despite the lateness, Storm felt fired up for more hunting, her blood buzzing with the excitement of the kill.

  “No.” Lucky nodded toward the Sun-Dog, who was curling up in a glow of radiance close to the horizon. “He’ll be going to his rest soon, and we should get the prey back to camp before no-sun.”

  “It’s strange that Sun-Dog wants to sleep in the Endless Lake,” murmured Snap, gazing wistfully at the Spirit Dog’s gorgeous colors. His tail lay in a golden path across the waves.

  Bella gave a small huff of laughter. “There’s no accounting for the whims of the Spirit Dogs,” she said brusquely. “Beta’s right, we should get the prey home.”

  The hunters turned back to pick up the weasels, but as Lucky ducked to lift one, he hesitated. Then, abruptly, he snapped his head up.

  “What’s that?” His nostrils snuffed the air, and his ears were pricked high as they could go, straining to hear something.

  “The scent of the lake,” offered Storm, sniffing it appreciatively. “You know that.”

  “No, Storm. There’s something else.”

  All of the dogs stood very still, casting around for a hint of what Lucky had detected. Storm gasped as she caught the scent. Yes. Beneath the salty tang of the Lake, there was a sweet, spicy fragrance. A deer-scent, but with something more.

  “You’re right,” she exclaimed, stretching her muzzle to find a further trace of that elusive, tempting scent.

  “Look! There!” Lucky sprang a pace toward the cliff, and stared upward.

  The others followed his gaze, and Storm took a shocked breath. As the Sun-Dog settled even lower, his light was shining on the rockface, turning it to an almost liquid gold. And there, at the very crest of the cliff, stood a deer.

  Its head was raised, and it seemed to be looking straight at the dogs, but it was unafraid. For long heartbeats it stood unmoving, silhouetted in the amber glow; then quite casually, it turned and cantered elegantly away from the cliff top.

  “The Golden Deer,” barked Lucky hoarsely. “This time I’m sure of it!”

  “But Beta,” objected Bella. “It’s almost no-sun time!”

  “We have to go after it,” he insisted, staring longingly at the top of the rockface. “What if it’s the real Golden Deer and I don’t take the chance? What would the Wind-Dogs think of me?”

  “Or of any of us,” agreed Snap, ignoring Bella’s skeptical stare. “I’m with you, Beta. No-sun or not, we have to follow it.”

  For once, Storm’s sympathies lay with Bella, despite the tempting beauty of the deer. “We can’t abandon this prey,” she said, nudging the weasels with her nose, “just to go chasing after a shadow.”

  “No, of course not.” Lucky’s eyes were alight with energy and enthusiasm; he looked as if he could take a flying leap straight to the top of the cliff. For an instant, Storm was afraid he’d actually try it. “Storm, you and Bella and Whisper should take the prey back to camp. Snap and I will go after the deer. Tell Alpha and Twitch not to hold back prey-sharing for us.” He exchanged a hopeful glance with Snap. “We’re going to follow the trail of the Golden Deer—till we lose it forever, or catch it for the Pack!”

  Storm found herself lost for words. She could understand Lucky’s overwhelming urge to pursue the deer. She’d have liked to do it herself—but she had sworn that on this hunt, there would be no wild plans, no letting the Pack down for the sake of excitement. So even if that meant missing an adventure led by Lucky himself, she would obey him.

  At last, with reluctance, Storm dipped her head. “All right, Beta. We’ll tell Alpha what’s happened.”

  “You’re crazy, both of you,” Bella told Lucky and Snap crisply. “But good luck—I hope you catch your ghost deer soon!”

  Lucky and Snap dipped their heads in a
cknowledgment, then bounded toward the far end of the bay where the cliff sloped closest to the sand. A little heavy of heart, Storm turned away to help Bella and Whisper pick up the weasels.

  The three of them had just set off back the way they’d come, in the direction of the camp, when Storm heard Lucky’s wild baying howl.

  “Speed up, Snap! Let’s run. The Golden Deer has bolted!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Stars were starting to wink and sparkle in a dark blue sky above the treetops as Storm and Bella approached the camp, Whisper trailing behind them. However hard Storm might listen in the clear cool air, there was no sound of other pawsteps behind them, no crunch of twigs.

  “Don’t worry, Storm.” Bella nudged her. “Beta and Snap will be fine. They’re a stubborn pair. They’ll probably still be chasing after that so-called Golden Deer until it’s long gone, and they’re both exhausted.”

  “I know,” said Storm through her jawful of weasel. “But this is going to be a hard one to explain to Alpha. . . .”

  Just as they padded over the border, Alpha appeared from her den and walked toward them, her sleek pale coat gleaming in the starlight. Her silhouette was very distended now. It can’t be long till the pups come, surely, thought Storm.

  “Where’s Beta?” Alpha lifted her ears and looked from Bella to Storm, to Whisper behind them. “What’s happened?” Her voice was stern, but there was genuine concern in her eyes.

  Storm laid down her prey. “He spotted the Golden Deer, Alpha.”

  “Or he thought he did.” Bella hunched her shoulders as she dropped her own weasels. “Anyway, he and Snap didn’t want to miss the chance. He said they’ll chase it till they lose the scent, or catch the deer.”

  Alpha’s eyes brightened in her slender face. “Oh! That . . . that makes me very happy. Beta’s taking the Wind-Dogs and their favor seriously, if he hopes to catch the Golden Deer.” She sighed, and gave Bella a rather pointed glance. “I’m not sure every other dog does.”

  “He’ll do his best to find it, Alpha, I know that.” Storm was determined to steer the talk away from Bella’s skepticism. “But he asked that we go ahead with prey-sharing. He and Snap don’t know when they’ll return.”