As the giantfur’s heavy pawsteps faded, Lucky’s breath exploded from his chest. He shook himself, gasping. Sense flooded back to him. He thought of Sweet, running alone toward the Fierce Dogs, that beast on her tail. He knew he should head back to the Pack—what if Whisper hadn’t made it? What if something went wrong there and he was needed?
But he couldn’t do it—he couldn’t abandon Sweet. He sprang over the fence and started following the giantfur at a distance, advancing slowly. The beast’s enormous tracks were impossible to miss, but despite the creature’s size, Lucky could no longer see her through the swirling snow. Suddenly there was a shrill bark, and Lucky froze, ears pricked up. He could hear a commotion up ahead, the growl of the giantfur and the yelping of dogs.
He picked up his pace but was careful not to creep up too quickly behind the giantfur.
A Fierce Dog was barking in alarm. “Dogs! Quick! We’re under attack!”
“What is it?” yelped another.
He heard Blade’s panicked howl. “The swift-dog brought a snow monster! Take it down!”
Lucky crept low to the ground. He could just make out flashes of glossy fur between the flakes of spinning snow. There was no sign of Sweet—she must have bolted already, before Blade realized what was happening. The Fierce Dogs seemed to be falling into line, standing shoulder to shoulder. Then the giantfur charged toward them, a furious boulder of dark fur. A dog yelped in pain, and Lucky lowered his muzzle, crouching deep in the snow.
Guilt coursed through Lucky’s fur. It was hard to hear the dog’s whimpers. Whatever I think about Blade, I helped lead the giantfur to the Fierce Dogs.
“My leg! Help me, won’t someone help me!”
An acid taste rose in Lucky’s throat and he swallowed hard, feeling giddy.
“She’s coming back!” It was Mace’s voice.
Blade’s desperate bark rang out over the valley. “Stop her before she kills us all! Go for her flanks and haunches! Once we bring her down, we can reach her filthy throat!”
Lucky heard the thump of bodies colliding. The giantfur roared indignantly. There was a heavy pounding of paws and an agonized yowl. Lucky buried his head beneath his paws. He wished he could block his ears. Over the stillness of the snowy valley it was impossible to miss the sounds of teeth tearing flesh, of jaws crunching bone. A dog was wheezing desperately, gurgling and spitting, and a sharp smell rose on the cold, gray air. The metallic scent of blood.
When Lucky scrambled through the forest to arrive at the rocky outcrop, he was panting so hard that he struggled to breathe. Heat pulsed through his body, despite the biting snow. The white pelt lay so heavy over the rocks that they had the soft, smooth appearance of skin. But underneath the icy flakes, Lucky knew that the hardstone was rigid and unforgiving. He let out an anxious whimper. There was no sign of his Pack. He padded around the rocks, scratching at the snow with a forepaw. The rush of a rich, delicious smell touched his nose. Sweet!
She had left a trail down to the riverbank. He circled the outcrop, weaving between the trees, and he found the path to the water’s edge. Ice stretched over the surface, shiny and deadly.
An angry bark rang through the air. “Who is it? Identify yourself!” A figure stepped out from behind the rocks, hackles up and head dropped in challenge.
Lucky knew that voice. “Mickey? It’s me!” He ran to the black-and-white dog, tail lashing.
Immediately Mickey morphed from a ferocious guard-dog into something resembling an eager pup. He growled gently, covering Lucky with nips and nudges. “Sweet got back a while ago. You took so long! We thought something terrible had happened to you. They’ll all be so relieved to see you.” He started along the snowy bank and dipped between some trees. The two Packs were gathered together, and they yipped excitedly as Mickey and Lucky appeared.
Sweet rushed to greet Lucky, licking his nose and nuzzling his neck. “Our plan worked perfectly,” she told him. “The giantfur attacked the Fierce Dogs, and they weren’t ready for it at all. I left them in chaos and ran full pelt to the Packs. Some of Blade’s dogs gave chase, but none of them could catch me and they soon gave up.” Her eyes glinted with satisfaction.
“Was Blade hurt?” asked Lucky.
Sweet let out a puff of breath. “Honestly I’m not sure—it was madness when the giantfur attacked her Pack, and I didn’t hang around to see what happened.”
Storm nudged her way between Martha and Moon. A shadow crossed her eyes. “I hope Blade died in agony. It’s no more than she deserves,” she spat.
The ferocity of Storm’s words unsettled Lucky. “I heard some of the clash,” he murmured. “I couldn’t see anything, though. Several dogs were whining. Another dog was howling in pain. But I don’t think it was Blade.” He gazed over the snowcapped land. It was eerily quiet. “Blade saw you, Sweet. She knows you led the giantfur to her Pack. If she’s alive, she’ll be desperate for revenge.” He tried to forget the sounds of mauling and chomping, and the howls of injured attack-dogs.
Sweet’s voice was low. “We will have to fight them on open ground. Hopefully they’ll have lost the advantage that Whine gave them, and they won’t know about Twitch’s Pack.”
“But Blade will be angrier than ever,” Dart murmured, creeping close to Bruno’s side.
Sweet didn’t answer. “There isn’t much time.” She led Lucky, Twitch, and Splash a short distance from the others. “I will need your help to rally the dogs.” Then she spoke up, so that every dog could hear her. “My Pack, Twitch’s Pack, the time has come to fight together, shoulder to shoulder. The Fierce Dogs are coming. They will be angry and bent on revenge. Above all, Blade will have riled them up and made them believe that the only way to prevent another, final Growl is to kill Storm. We must not allow them to break our defenses. We must combat our fear and fight bravely. We have come at last to the Storm of Dogs, but we will be triumphant.”
A series of barks rose in agreement, but Lucky could also sniff the tang of fear-scent in the air. Following orders, he busied himself urging the stronger fighters to the front of the Pack. Mickey, Snap, and Bruno came forward. At Twitch’s encouragement, his best fighters joined them.
Sweet paced between the ranks, tall and proud on her slender legs. “I want you to stay close to one another when the Fierce Dogs arrive. If we separate, it’s easier for them to pick us off or break through our defenses.” She nudged Dart away from the edge of the riverbank with her muzzle. “And watch out for the water. The ice will be thin—if you tumble off the bank, it could crack and you’ll end up in the freezing water. I don’t think even Martha would last long down there.”
The black water-dog cocked her head in acknowledgment and Dart shuddered, moving even farther away from the edge of the bank.
Lucky watched uneasily as Arrow edged toward the front of the Pack, pressing between Bruno and Bella. The Fierce Dog dropped his muzzle, his eyes focused dead ahead.
Lucky couldn’t help thinking about Fang, who had been loyal to Blade despite her cruel treatment, and who had helped her trick the Wild Pack and hold Lucky prisoner. In the name of the Sky-Dogs, who watch over everything—please let our faith in Arrow be justified.
He snapped out of his thoughts to see Storm muscling forward, shoving Rake out of the way in her eagerness to reach the front of the Pack.
Sweet glared at her sternly. “Not you.”
“But I have to!” she protested. “Blade wouldn’t even be coming here if it wasn’t for me. I must be in the battle. I may be the best fighter we have, and I need revenge for my litter-brothers.”
“And you will have it,” said Lucky. “But you can’t be too exposed. For now, we need you to hold back.”
Storm’s floppy ears twitched, but she made no move to retreat.
“Beta told you to hold back—do it!” Sweet barked.
With heavy steps, as though her paws were made of hardstone, Storm turned around and plodded a few rows back. She sat with a sulky droop of her ears and brooded while dogs ar
ranged themselves around her. Lucky felt a warm glow in his chest. Storm was still so pup-like—he remembered her boisterous enthusiasm in the days after he and Mickey had found her, and the sorrow that followed a telling off. She hadn’t changed.
Martha padded up to Storm and rested her head on the Fierce Dog’s shoulder. “It’s okay, young dog,” she murmured. “You’re safer back here.”
“But I don’t want to be safe—I want to fight for my Pack, like everyone else.”
Martha’s voice was soothing. “Your time will come.”
Lucky watched as Storm buried her head against Martha’s thick black coat. It was as though no bitterness had ever developed between the two dogs. He noticed the water-dog’s gentle affection, so like that of a Mother-Dog, and the trust in Storm’s dark face.
Satisfied that Storm would stay toward the rear of the Pack—at least for now—Lucky stalked along the riverbank, checking that all of the dogs were fit and ready to fight. Most of them had grown bolder, buoyed by one another’s enthusiasm. But when Lucky reached the back of the group, he saw that Sunshine was in a state. The little dog trembled in fear, her dark eyes worried. Her head craned over the snow and every sound made her spook, spinning on her paws, breathing quickly.
Lucky licked her ears and spoke soothingly. “How are you feeling?” Sunshine puffed up her chest and tried to look fierce, but her shaking hackles betrayed her terror. “I will do my best to fight for my Pack,” she said bravely.
“I don’t want you to fight. You’re small and white; you can barely be seen in the snow. I want you to hide and stay safe.”
“But then I’d be a coward,” she whimpered. “I have to do my duty.”
“A dog’s duty may come in different forms,” Lucky assured her. “Yours is not to fight. Stay safe now—you help the Pack in other ways.” He lowered his voice. “When Sweet led the giantfur to the Fierce Dogs, I had to hide behind a fence. I wasn’t fast enough to help Sweet, and I felt terrible about that. But every dog is different—we contribute according to our own unique skills. You help to keep up our morale. That is more valuable than big jaws or sharp claws. That is the most important job of all.”
She blinked at him gratefully, and her body relaxed. With a small wag of the tail, she backed away from the other dogs, toward a mound of fresh snow at the base of the tree. There she dug herself a hiding place and shuffled deep within the mound, disappearing in a bundle of white.
Lucky returned to stand by Sweet’s side at the front of the Pack. It was hard to see more than a few dog-lengths ahead. The snow was falling more heavily, the air a blizzard of thick white flakes. A deep chill ran through Lucky’s bones. This was it—the Storm of Dogs he had pictured in his dreams—here at last.
His words to Sunshine echoed in his ears. A dog’s duty may come in different forms.
But what was his duty? What was the role that Alfie spoke of? And when the time came, would he know what to do?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was impossible to tell the time of day. Lucky gazed at the sky, but all he could see was a swirling haze of white. The Sun-Dog might have gone to sleep by now, warm and safe beyond Ice Wind’s freezing grasp, but there was no sign of the Moon-Dog. Could they have both deserted us? Lucky wondered. No, that wasn’t possible. His Mother-Dog had told him that when the Sun-Dog retreated to his den, the Moon-Dog appeared to watch over dogs. That way, there was always a Spirit Dog with an eye to the world below, keeping dogs safe.
Mother lived in different times, thought Lucky sadly. When longpaws controlled the city . . . when the Earth-Dog was peaceful and on our side.
That world had gone.
He shivered, trying to rid his fur of the thick white flakes, but they just kept coming. Sweet stood very still at his flank, squinting through the snow. Twitch was sitting on her other side, his sensitive ears alert for sound and his nostrils pulsing.
“Anything?” asked Sweet.
The floppy-eared dog sighed. “Not yet.”
There was a murmur of disquiet from the Wild Packs gathered behind them. Lucky longed for a bird to shrill, or a mouse to scamper along the riverbank—anything to interrupt the creepy silence.
What’s taking the Fierce Dogs so long? Could it be possible that the giantfur had killed all of Blade’s Pack? Or that the beast had scared them so badly that they’d chosen to run away?
Then Lucky picked up the faintest sound—the soft crunch of a paw in snow. Brittle fear caught at the back of his throat. Sweet tensed, and Twitch’s head rose sharply. They had heard it too.
There passed a long moment when all they could hear was the whisper of snow as it spun from the sky and fell to earth. Then there was another crunch of paws, and a dark shape loomed out of the blizzard.
Blade’s eyes were bloodshot, and her lip quivered with rage. But her muscles flexed, and there was no sign of injury beneath her glossy fur. She scanned the Wild Dogs, her lip crinkling with disgust, as her deputies, Mace and Dagger, appeared behind her. A jagged wound ran along Mace’s cheek and the fur hung off his shoulder, revealing a hunk of skin as pink as a dog’s tongue. Lucky shuddered. The giantfur must have done that. . . .
Behind the deputies, Lucky could just make out the silhouettes of other Fierce Dogs. He couldn’t tell how many through the swirling blizzard, but he thought it might be fewer now after the Fierce Dogs’ battle with the giantfur.
“You!” snarled Blade, her red eyes locking onto Sweet. “Swift-dog! I saw you run past before the ice monster attacked. You led her to us. It was your wicked plan.”
Sweet’s face was tight with tension. “And I would do it again.”
Blade thumped one dark paw on the snow, sending up a cloud of white. “That trick shows you for the cowards you are, and so does your filthy plot to ambush us by the rocks. Your Pack is too weak to fight us in open combat. I hope you will continue to be cowards. Hand over Storm—she belongs to me.”
“My Pack has been joined by another,” Sweet growled. “Twitch is a brave fighter, and his dogs stand alongside mine.”
Blade took in the floppy-eared dog, her eyes widening with surprise. She snorted in amusement. “Swift-dog, I knew you were weak, but I had no idea you were that desperate! A cripple? Leading a Pack?”
Mace and Dagger barked with cruel amusement. Lucky felt anger replace fear, gushing hotly through his limbs, but Twitch did not respond. Instead he watched Blade with a sort of cool detachment. It seemed to unnerve her, and she ran her tongue over her muzzle.
Blade’s eyes trailed across the frozen river, and her voice became grave. “There isn’t much time. I predicted another Growl, and it came. In my dreams last night the Spirit Dogs warned of a third and final Growl. Earth-Dog will perish and night will fall, perhaps forever.” She met Lucky’s eye. “The City Rat knows. He has seen it too.”
A bolt of fire shot between them, like Lightning’s flame. Lucky could hardly breathe. I never told her about my dreams. How does she know? Had Whine told her?
Blade gave him a curious look and shifted her attention back to Sweet. “The blood of the pup is needed to appease Earth-Dog. Another Growl is coming. I know the City Rat can feel it—but can’t the rest of you? Only Storm’s death will stop it.”
Lucky felt a strange tingling in his fur, a familiar agitation. Beyond the twisting snow, the air seemed to tremble. His hackles rose, and the fur along his spine felt frozen like whiskers of ice. He rebuked himself. It’s a trick. She’s got me imagining things. She probably knows about my dreams from Whine. Sweet shared them with the Pack, and now Blade’s trying to scare us into giving up Storm. He took a deep breath, his hackles rising.
Sweet showed no sign of fear. “We will defend Storm and our territory with our lives. There are more of us now, with Twitch’s Pack fighting alongside us. He is a brave, honorable Alpha, and his dogs are fierce in battle. There are fewer of you since your tussle with the giantfur. You are greatly outnumbered.”
Lucky admired Sweet’s determination. He knew
her words about Pack numbers would encourage the Wild Dogs.
And she wasn’t done yet.
“Your Pack has been bullied and oppressed under your leadership,” said Sweet. “Many witnessed the savagery with which you murdered Fang, a pup who was ever loyal to you. Some have had enough.” She nodded at Arrow, and the young Fierce Dog stepped forward.
Lucky held his breath. If Arrow is going to betray us, now would be the time. . . .
But to Lucky’s intense relief, Blade’s ears shot back as she saw Arrow approach, and she spat with rage. “You traitor!” she howled. “I will tear you limb from limb.”
“If he doesn’t kill you first,” Sweet snarled.
Blade took a step closer, hackles high and lips curled back. Mace and Dagger flanked her and other Fierce Dogs stepped forward, taking position. Lucky could see his former Alpha’s wolfish outline near the back and felt a pang of anger.
Blade glared at Sweet with contempt. “Don’t you get it yet? You may have more dogs, you may play more tricks. But we are natural fighters, while your pathetic Pack is nothing more than a band of rejects—a bunch of Wild Dogs without dignity or discipline and the lame, weak, and cowardly runts that the longpaws left behind. We are trained and prepared. We were born to kill, and we will destroy every one of you.”
The Fierce Dogs snarled and barked in agreement as a creeping dread ran along Lucky’s back. Some of the Wild Dogs had never killed anything larger than a rabbit. He thought of Daisy, of Moon’s pups. . . .
He hid his fear, barking at Blade. “Enough talk! You have heard our Alpha: We will not give Storm to you to slay in cold blood. We are not scared of you. Our dogs are ready to fight to the end.”
A clamor of growls and barks leaped from the Wild Pack. The Fierce Dogs answered with their own furious snarls.
Sweet’s voice rang out over the baying dogs, crisp and clear on the freezing air.