“Our longpaws,” cried Daisy, as Bruno let out harsh, choking howls. “Our longpaws are dead!”
“BE QUIET!” Alpha barked. But no dog was listening to him.
They’re hysterical, thought Lucky, and I understand—but they can’t go on like this.
Seizing Mickey’s scruff, Lucky shook him gently, raising his head out of the dust. “Listen,” he yelped. “Listen, all of you. These aren’t your longpaws. They can’t be!”
“How do you know?” Mickey barked in furious grief.
“You knew your longpaws so well—if they were here, you’d smell them, wouldn’t you? And your longpaws escaped! These ones lived here, and they were trapped. They must have been killed when the Big Growl hit. They aren’t yours! We aren’t anywhere near the city.”
“Lucky, you don’t understand—”
Through the chaos and misery, a bolt of inspiration struck Lucky. “This is a good sign, Mickey! All of you, listen—this is happy news!”
As one the Leashed Dogs stopped midhowl and turned to stare at Lucky. Mickey looked at him as if he’d caught the deadly water-madness, as if he expected Lucky to start frothing at the mouth.
“How can this be good?” wailed Sunshine.
“Because these longpaws were trapped,” Lucky said patiently. “Look at how they’re lying—they were trying to get away. They hadn’t come to this place; they were trying to leave it!”
Mickey stared, trembling, at the bodies. “But they couldn’t escape . . .”
“Don’t you see?” barked Lucky. “This is what would have happened to your longpaws if they’d stayed for you. You wondered why they left—well, this is why! Do you understand, Daisy?” Gently he nudged the little terrier with his nose. “Now you know your longpaws didn’t want to leave—but if they hadn’t, this is what would have become of them.”
The Leashed Dogs began to sit up awkwardly; still distressed, thought Lucky, but at least they’d stopped that awful wailing. Even Alpha flashed him an exasperated but grateful look.
“I didn’t think of it like that,” said Daisy in a small voice.
“So,” said Sunshine, snuffling into her paws. “That means my longpaws are probably safe?”
“Safe and alive,” agreed Lucky. “Because they got away from the Big Growl and the poisoned land in time.”
The Leashed Dogs were all getting back on their paws now, shaking off the dust and looking a little embarrassed. Martha concentrated very hard on nibbling at her webbed claws. Mickey scratched his ear.
“Well,” Bruno grumbled. “Let’s get moving.”
Lucky shook his head. He couldn’t help but hear the stunned murmurs of the Wild Dogs around him:
“What bizarre behavior,” Moon whispered to Fiery.
“Outlandish,” agreed her mate. “I thought they were Wild Dogs now?”
“They’re supposed to be,” sneered Whine. “And then they see a few dead longpaws and they can’t control themselves. Hmph.”
“Mother-Dog,” yelped Beetle softly, “I don’t understand this.”
“Hush, Beetle. None of us really do.” Moon licked his ear. “I’ll try and explain later. Don’t hurt the Leashed Dogs’ feelings, will you?”
But Beetle’s right, thought Lucky dismally. They’re not supposed to be Leashed Dogs anymore.
“Listen, all of you.” Sweet gave an authoritative bark that settled every dog quickly. “I can feel the air thickening. The storm’s returning. Let’s find shelter, and quickly.”
She was right, Lucky realized. The sky had grown dark and heavy, as if the Sky-Dogs were assembling above the clouds for a battle.
“Where will we hide?” asked Thorn.
“Look around you, youngster,” said Sweet with amusement. “These longpaw houses seem stable, and the longpaws don’t need them anymore.” She gave a slightly apologetic glance in the direction of the Leashed Dogs.
“I think we should keep moving,” Dart argued, giving the corpses an anxious glance. “I don’t like this place.”
“We can’t be outside when the rain comes,” snapped Moon, with a protective glance at her growing pups. “Don’t you know that by now, Dart?”
“Moon is right, and so is Beta,” barked Alpha gruffly. “Find a longpaw house where we can take cover.”
He has no problem making a decision, thought Lucky, when another dog makes a good suggestion.
“But there was a noise . . .” began Beetle timidly.
“Only a rat after all, I think,” Lucky told him. “No longpaw has survived here; I’m sure of it.”
Martha shuddered unhappily beside him. “I’m afraid Lucky’s right.”
Keeping closely together, the Pack set off down the hardstone track, treading delicately between the bodies that lay sprawled across it.
“How about that one?” suggested Snap, nodding at a long, low building.
“Not enough exits,” said Alpha dismissively. Before Snap could even suggest another house behind it, he said, “And that one’s too close to the other—it could give our enemies cover.”
“This one?” Moon pointed her nose at a small building made of wood.
“Too flimsy. Keep looking.”
Is he being picky? wondered Lucky. Or just trying to show he’s still in charge?
Snap seemed to have given up making suggestions; she padded at Lucky’s side along with Lick. “Honestly, Lucky, I had no idea a few dead longpaws would upset your friends so much.”
“They’re still getting used to being wild,” snapped Lucky. When Snap gave him a surprised look, he dipped his head apologetically. I shouldn’t be so defensive. Snap has a point. “It’s just—well, it hasn’t been that long since they lost their longpaws. And I think . . . the longpaws were like their Pack. Imagine losing your whole Pack and being left all alone.”
Snap was silent for a few moments. “It’s a shame.” She sighed deeply, wagging her stumpy tail. “Those longpaws would make a great meat source.”
“Snap!” he growled. “Be quiet. They’ll hear.”
“Honestly, though—”
“If you thought the Leashed Dogs were upset before, just see what they’re like when you suggest they eat longpaws,” Lucky told her sternly. “Anyway, these aren’t for eating. Have you smelled them?”
Making a doubtful face, Snap paused by a longpaw corpse to give it a sniff. She yelped, and hurried back to Lucky’s side. “You’re right. They smell like the foul river.”
Lucky nodded. “They’ve been lying out in the bad rain. And I think they’ve been here for a long time.”
“Here!” Alpha’s loud bark brought them all to a halt. He stood stiffly beside a broken clear-stone panel set in a solid wall. “We’ll shelter in this place.”
“Good idea,” grumbled Spring under her breath. “It’s starting to rain.”
Lucky jumped in alarm as two big drops splashed onto his fur, and soon it was pattering steadily down. The dogs scrambled through the shattered clear-stone panel into a broad room filled with toppled tables and sitting-boxes. Scattered around the place were squares of white longpaw fur, clear-stone bottles of thick, red liquid and white, salty powder, and broken jars spilling flowers that hadn’t died. Dart sniffed at one of the jars.
“No wonder they haven’t wilted,” she blurted in astonishment. “These flowers aren’t real; they smell like the hardstone path.”
“What is this place?” Beetle gazed up and around at the strange room as the others huddled and stared.
Lucky nosed at the tables and gave a yelp of delight. “It’s a Food House!”
“A what?” Fiery lifted an ear, puzzled.
“A Food House. This is where longpaws come to eat together, like a Pack. They take turns, like we do, while their hunters bring them food. Then they put the salty grain and the red sauce on the prey.”
Alpha gave a disbelieving whine.
“And there was always lots of food. Longpaws had good hunting,” explained Lucky. “Sometimes they didn’t eat al
l of it, and they’d give the rest to me.”
“Give it to you?” asked Moon skeptically. “You mean, willingly? Food they didn’t want?”
“Really. I know it sounds odd, but it happened quite often.”
“I saw one of these places, in the city,” put in Sweet. “Lucky’s telling the truth. There was a kind longpaw there who gave him spare food.”
“Spare food?” echoed Alpha with a snort. “A kind longpaw?”
“There might be something left,” said Lucky, ignoring his leader’s contemptuous tone. Nosing through a pair of loose-swinging doors, he found what he was looking for. “Here! The Food Room.”
The center of the floor was paw-deep in water that spurted now and then from a broken pipe, but the water was clean. Lucky bent to lap a few mouthfuls. Nothing had tasted so good in a long time. Licking his chops, he examined the steel boxes against the walls, as the rest of the Pack crept cautiously in behind him. They flinched at the swinging doors, but then gave yelps of delight as they discovered the clean, fresh water.
Beside him, though, a low harsh whimper came from Sweet’s throat. Maybe she’s remembering how scared she was in that other Food House, when we found just one dead longpaw.
And now look at her, Lucky thought—confidently leading a Pack whenever Alpha loses control, and not even worried by a whole street covered in longpaw corpses. Part of him missed the old Sweet, but surely it was better to see her like this, tough and independent, than running scared.
The world’s such a dangerous place now, maybe we could all use a bit of Sweet’s new hardness.
Mickey pawed at one of the big steel boxes. “Watch this.”
“They don’t open,” Lucky told him. “They’re always locked.”
“They do,” Mickey told him mischievously. He hooked his claws around one steel door. With a flick and pull of a dexterous paw, he yanked the heavy door and it swung wide with a creak.
Lucky stared, open-jawed and impressed. I wish I’d known that trick in the old days!
“Well done, Mickey!” barked Bruno, and every dog fell on what was inside.
Some of the food was too old to eat, crusted in blue mold, or foul-smelling, but a fair amount was edible. Bruno tugged out a big, covered pan with his teeth, spilling soft, cooked grains onto the floor. There were packets of dry food too, and when Mickey opened another steel box a flood of freezing cold water drenched him, but they discovered a bag of meat discs that were still good.
It was no hunt, and the food was plentiful, so after their hard journey none of the dogs seemed inclined to follow Pack discipline. Sunshine held nervously back at first, and Dart widened her eyes in surprise when Whine snatched a mouthful of grain from under her nose, but Sweet and Alpha seemed content to let every dog eat their fill without regard for rank. With the rounds of frozen meat there was more than enough to go around, and the dogs were hungry enough to eat those as they were, crunching and chewing and gulping them down.
“You were right, Lucky,” said Spring though a mouthful of half-frozen meat. “Food Houses are useful places.”
Lucky couldn’t help thinking, though, that the longpaw food didn’t taste as good to him as it once had. Was that because it was old, or because he was so accustomed now to fresh prey and a warm kill? I’m changing without even noticing it.
Strange, he thought, that he felt the same about this meal as Alpha must. The dog-wolf barely bothered to touch the longpaw food, haughtily pushing it aside after only a few mouthfuls. Alpha watched them all eat with an expression of disdain, especially the Leashed Dogs, who ate with far more enthusiasm than the wild ones.
“I haven’t tasted rice in such a long time,” said Sunshine wistfully, licking up a few last grains.
“And you won’t taste it again,” snapped Alpha. “When the Sun-Dog rises tomorrow, the hunting dogs can go into the forest and find some real prey.”
Sunshine sighed, but said nothing.
When the dogs had eaten their fill, they settled in their sleep-groups as rain battered down outside. Treading his ritual circle, Lucky cocked an ear to listen to the downpour, and was glad they were indoors and out of the way of the bad rain. In the corner farthest from the shattered clear-stone, Alpha and Sweet curled up together; the hunters and Patrol Dogs found their own separate sleeping dens beneath collapsed tables. Sunshine lay by herself, closest to the rain that blustered in through the broken clear-stone, whimpering sadly; perhaps her Omega duties were finally getting her down, Lucky thought sympathetically.
Deciding to keep an eye on the unhappy little dog, he shuffled to the edge of the hunters’ makeshift den. As the cold breeze touched his fur, a shiver ran through his hide. Sky-Dogs, it’s freezing! Poor Sunshine. And will I ever get to sleep myself?
Then he felt warmth at his side. Glancing around, he saw Lick carrying a white longpaw fur in her jaws. She tugged it over him and gave him an affectionate lick on the nose, then slunk back to her place on the edge of the patrol den.
Lucky watched her go, grateful and touched. How can any dog think Lick’s evil? he wondered. She has a sweeter nature than most of this Pack.
Drowsily his snout sank to the floor, and he drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Blinking awake to the dim morning light, Lucky realized the noise of the rain had faded; it was now no more than a drizzle beyond the broken clear-stone. He could smell the acid tang of its aftermath, and when he risked peering outside, he saw hissing tendrils of steam rising from puddles. Lucky shook himself.
The other dogs were rising, stretching, and yawning; Sunshine, shivering, crept past on her way to receive her orders from Sweet.
“Did you sleep, Sunshine?” asked Lucky.
She gave him a grateful look. “A bit. Thank you.”
Poor little Sunshine, he thought. She’s trying so hard.
“Hunters and Patrol Dogs.” Alpha summoned them from his corner. “A small group of you will scout the rest of the longpaw settlement. Beta will lead you. Martha and Daisy, go with her.”
“Really, Alpha?” Daisy, her tail wagging wildly, was almost bursting with pride.
Alpha rolled his eyes. “You were a Leashed Dog. You’ll have special knowledge. Use it to find anything we need to know. See if there’s any reason we should stay here and keep this place as a base—or if there’s any reason we should leave.”
Daisy’s tongue lolled and she whined her eager agreement. But Lucky found his hackles lifting. How could Alpha leave him out of the scouting party? He was a City Dog, as Alpha was usually so keen to remind him! Is he doing this to spite me?
Lucky turned to Daisy. “Do you want me to show you how to open a Food House door, Daisy? Would you like me to explain how you pick out edible food from a spoil-box?”
“That’s a good point.” Daisy hung her head, eyes darting to left and right. “I don’t really know how to do those things, Lucky.”
Alpha cocked his head and eyed Lucky. “If you have a problem with my choice of scouts, I suggest you say it out loud.”
“Why not me, Alpha?” challenged Lucky. “I have skills you could use.”
Alpha examined a dewclaw. “I think Daisy and Martha will do the job best.”
Lucky took a breath to argue, but Fiery intervened before he could speak. “Alpha, why wouldn’t you send Lucky? He knows about longpaw settlements, like the Leashed Dogs do. And he survived in a city alone—they didn’t!”
“He’s right, Alpha,” whined Daisy, pinning her ears back. “Lucky knows so much.”
“I think so too,” said Snap.
“It seems obvious to me,” said Bella quietly. Lucky met her eyes and panted happily, glad of her support.
“I agree,” added Sweet calmly. “I think Lucky should go.”
“Please, Alpha,” said Martha.
For a brief moment Alpha’s yellow eyes blazed with cold fire. Lucky tried to still his wildly wagging tail. Alpha couldn’t refuse now. If he did, it would look as if he was putting his feelings before the good
of the Pack.
Alpha’s muzzle curled, and his expression grew sly. “I made you a hunter, didn’t I? Go hunting. You and Fiery, Snap, Bruno, and Mickey: Get out into the forest and find food. Prey will be hard to track down after that rain, and we’ll need all we can get. We won’t be eating longpaw muck again; you all gorged on it last night.”
“But we could find more—” began Fiery.
“I lead this Pack!” barked Alpha.
“You lead it when—” The words were out before Lucky could stop himself, but he snapped his mouth shut before he could go too far. What could he say, after all? That Alpha only led it when it was easy? When he could seize on one of Sweet’s decisions and pretend it was his own?
The Pack watched him in tense silence. “You lead this Pack,” Lucky finished in a mutter.
“Yes.” Alpha showed his teeth. “The patrols are my decision, and that’s final.”
Lucky lowered his head and growled in assent. At least he’d been sent hunting; but Alpha’s stubbornness infuriated him. And that move had verged on sneaky, rather than clever. Why shouldn’t the Pack try to stay here, where it was safe? The priority now should be to find decent food and better shelter in the longpaw settlement, and that was where Lucky would have been really valuable. But Alpha had wasted Lucky’s knowledge out of sheer spite.
Lucky was glad to get away from Alpha and the Food House; it was good to run in the wild again, his nose alert for scents of prey, the breeze cold and fresh on his skin and fur. As soon as the hunting party left the town, Fiery and Snap gave huffing sighs of relief.
“Thank the Sky-Dogs,” said Fiery. “Grass under my paws again! My paw pads were aching on that hardstone.”
“Mine too,” agreed Snap. “And I’m sure it was blunting my claws.”
Lucky glanced at them both, surprised. It was pleasant to feel cool earth beneath his paws—that was true—but could two such tough dogs really be affected so badly by hardstone?
He looked at Bruno and Mickey. The two Leashed Dogs weren’t complaining about the soft tracks, but they weren’t quite as nimble or sure-pawed out here as they were in the longpaw settlement. Earth was clumping between their claws, and mud bedraggling and matting their fur.