It was no use; sleep wouldn’t come. Staggering to her paws, Storm slunk from her den and walked in a daze around the camp’s border. The night was clear and starlit, the sky still dark blue rather than black, the air fresh with the scents of oncoming Long Light. But as she paced, she realized the stars were vanishing one by one, beginning at the horizon; light rain began to speckle her coat. Storm craned her head to peer at the sky. Clouds had obliterated the stars, and the raindrops were cold despite the change of season. She gave a long sigh and trudged on, sniffing dutifully at the border as she walked.
The rain was falling harder now; her fur clung to her skin, heavy with wetness. The clouds seemed to be thickening rather than clearing, and something in the atmosphere made the hairs on her spine lift. Glancing up again at the sky, she saw Lightning Dog race in an instant from the clouds to the earth. In his wake came the thundering rumble of the Sky-Dogs; they always seemed to chase Lightning when he sprinted, just for fun.
Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy. I might sleep now. Storm padded back to her den, tail drooping and dripping; she didn’t even have the energy to shake herself. Curling up on her soft mossy bedding—Sunshine brought this for me; how could she be bad?—Storm was at last overwhelmed by a long, dark, and dreamless sleep.
Storm had no idea how long she’d slept. She was jerked into wakefulness by a terrible, wailing howl that made her clench her teeth.
The Sun-Dog is up and running—it’s morning. She shook herself, stumbling a little as a fog of drowsiness clung to her.
The high howl came again, splitting the air—a horrible sound of grief and desperation. Now Storm was fully awake. Tightening her jaws, she sprang out of her den and raced toward the source of the dreadful noise.
She wasn’t alone; alongside her ran Snap, Breeze, and Mickey. Moon hurtled from her den and joined them.
“What’s happening?” cried Sunshine, frozen in terror as they passed her. “What’s wrong?”
“Who knows?” barked Snap.
“It’s coming from High Watch!” gasped Mickey.
Chase bolted out from the trees and ran with them. Sunshine took off in pursuit, small legs a blur beneath her shaggy white coat, but she was soon left behind. Alpha sprang from her den, and when the pups tried to follow, Lucky summoned them back with a bark that was not to be argued with. He shielded the little dogs with his body as he stared after his running Pack.
Storm’s heart thundered as she saw Alpha first catch the leading dogs, then streak ahead. She was so fast! Alpha raced up the winding path to High Watch. The track underpaw was slippery with mud after the heavy rain, and all the dogs stumbled and slithered as they followed, leaving deep claw marks in the loose, wet earth.
The line of Packmates was much more strung out by the time Alpha leaped up the last rocky ledge to the cliff top and vanished over it. Storm was only a few paces behind her, though, and with one bound she was on the plateau and sprinting after her leader. The pounding steps of her Packmates echoed behind her, one by one, as they too reached the summit.
Not again, Storm kept thinking. Please not again. Let it be an accident. Let it just be that the High Watch dog has gotten caught in thorns—who’s on High Watch, anyway?
Cold terror swept through her lungs and belly as she remembered. Daisy!
Alpha skidded to a halt on the damp grass ahead of her, and Storm almost collided with the swift-dog. Mickey, Snap, Breeze, and Chase were at their side in an instant, but Storm didn’t turn to look at them: She felt a rush of pure relief. In front of Alpha stood Daisy, alive and well—but quivering with shock and terror. Her little head was raised to the Sky-Dogs, her jaws open wide as she howled and howled in despair.
“Daisy! Daisy!” commanded Alpha. “Daisy, what is it?”
Her sharp words finally penetrated the little dog’s head. Daisy turned, eyes filled with stunned misery, and stared at her Packmates.
“Bruno . . .” From a howl, her voice had fallen to a high, tortured rasp. “It’s Bruno. There.”
Alpha stiffened, and stared past Daisy. “What?” Her voice made Storm’s blood run ice-cold.
“He’s dead.” Daisy’s voice faded, choked with horror and grief. “Bruno . . . my friend Bruno . . . He’s dead.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“No!” Mickey’s agonized howl shattered the awful silence.
Storm was frozen where she stood. She felt as if she were viewing the scene from outside—floating—watching herself and the rest of her grief-stricken, disbelieving Pack. Daisy nodded feebly at a large slab of rock near the cliff edge; Alpha’s paws shook as she walked toward it. There was a dark smear of blood across the pale stone, but Bruno was mostly hidden; Storm could see only a single lifeless paw.
Snap was nuzzling her mate, Mickey, trying frantically to console him. Chase and Breeze stood flank-to-flank, dumbfounded. Moon gave a high, whimpering howl of distress; as soon as Thorn and Beetle appeared, they ran to her, licking comfortingly at her raised throat. Between the bigger dogs, a small dirty-white shape pushed through, last to arrive, panting from the exertion.
Sunshine crept closer to Daisy, her dark eyes stunned, her whole body shaking. “Is it true? Did I hear that right, Daisy? Bruno?”
Daisy could only nod once, miserably. Even her wiry fur seemed to droop.
Mickey shook himself violently, his jaws clenched. He took a couple of steps forward and placed his paws on either side of the two little dogs, sheltering them. Dropping his head, he began to lick their ears gently.
Those three and Bruno, they were all part of the Leashed Pack after the Big Growl, Storm realized with a wrench in her belly. They learned to survive together, without their longpaws. They were all so close. Perhaps that shared history makes their bond even stronger than the ones between regular Pack Dogs. Does it make their grief far deeper, too?
Storm’s heart ached for them; she could not imagine how they were feeling. She hadn’t known Bruno for as long as they had, but she too felt hollow with grief and shock. She and the big dog had only just started to get along like true Packmates. As Alpha stalked stiffly behind the rock slab and stared down, Storm started hesitantly toward her, Chase and Breeze at her tail.
“No,” snapped Alpha, clearly and sharply. “All of you, stay back.”
As they halted, she sniffed at the ground and at the covered corpse. After a long time, she raised her head and sighed deeply. She turned to her Packmates.
“Only a large, vicious animal could have killed Bruno,” she said, her voice rough and raspy. “But that rain last night—it’s washed away any traces. There are no paw prints. There’s no scent.”
“Large and vicious,” growled Snap, leaving Mickey’s side to take a couple of paces forward. “You mean a giantfur, maybe? A giant sharpclaw? Or . . . could it have been a dog?”
Alpha was silent for long moments, licking her chops. She glanced back at what lay behind the rock, and when she turned back to the Pack, she didn’t quite meet any dog’s eyes.
“Yes,” she admitted at last. She sounded as if she could hardly get the words out; as if her jaws were full of poisoned prey. “Yes, it could have been a dog. I think . . . I’m almost certain . . . Yes. It was a dog.”
Gasps and muffled whimpers erupted from the Pack. A low, agonized growl sounded from Mickey’s throat.
Alpha drew herself up stiffly. “All of you, return to the camp. Except for you, Mickey,” she added as he began to protest. “And Storm and Breeze, and Moon. You four can help me move Bruno. We can’t leave him up here. We’ll bury him next to Whisper.”
A cold chill went through Storm’s rib cage at the sound of the gray dog’s name. Whisper.
Whisper tried to warn me!
He knew this was going to happen. My dream was clear. Perhaps I could have stopped this. . . . Perhaps I was supposed to stop this. . . .
But how could she have foreseen it? Guilt flashed through her. Bruno had been one of the Packmates she still suspected of possibly being the bad do
g; could there be a worse, more tragic proof of his innocence? And who would want to hurt Bruno? He could be grumpy and abrasive, but his size and strength belied a surprising gentleness.
I didn’t see it coming. But I should have. Whisper warned me. He warned me.
Mickey nudged Daisy and Sunshine with his nose and shepherded them away, muttering pointless reassurance; Daisy was still shaking as she set off back down the cliff path. The rest of the Pack followed, their tails hanging low, and Mickey stood and watched them go. His chest was heaving, Storm noticed.
Mickey’s pain was awful to see. Turning tactfully away, Storm paced over to the slab of rock. For a moment she hesitated, and then she stepped around behind it.
Sky-Dogs! Storm sucked in a shocked breath.
No wonder Alpha had sent the rest of the Pack away. No dog should see this, if they didn’t have to—and especially not little Sunshine. I wish Daisy hadn’t found him. She shouldn’t have seen this either. . . .
Bruno did look almost as if a giantfur had attacked him, but Storm knew why Alpha had instantly suspected a dog. The injuries were just too vicious, too deliberate to be the work of some raging animal.
The big dog’s throat had been torn out. That was bad enough—a horrible echo of what had happened to Whisper—but far worse, his entire lower jaw had been ripped away. Blood was splashed on the rock and on the grass around him; he lay in a dark congealing lake of it. His eyes were open, glazed in death, and his expression was more one of shock than terror.
Storm took an instinctive step back. She could hardly bear to look at the evidence of poor Bruno’s violent killing, but there was something even worse about the state of his body. Her stomach twisted sharply.
His jaw . . . torn right away from his skull.
Storm felt sick, her belly and fur tingling with a feeling of familiarity—but she could not put her paw on why it was so familiar. . . .
“Let’s get to work,” Alpha said, softly but clearly. As if a trance had broken, the other four dogs shook themselves and prepared to drag Bruno as carefully as possible down the steep and winding cliff path.
It was a long, difficult, painful task; Bruno’s body was heavy and the thudding sound it made as they maneuvered him down the steeper shelves was awful. Behind them, a thin, dark smear of half-dried blood marked their path. Once they were down among the trees, the ground was at least flat, but the big dog was an awkward burden to drag through the pine trunks and the thorny scrub.
The four Packmates and their Alpha had to take frequent breaks, but at last, exhausted and panting hard, they released Bruno in the dappled light of the forest clearing. His big frame flopped to the ground, lifeless, and rolled slightly down a shallow slope.
Inwardly Storm shuddered. There was Whisper’s grave, overgrown with grass and moss, dotted with tiny purple flowers. It was settling back into the paws of the Earth-Dog, just as it had been in her dream.
And now we’ll dig that fresh grave. The one Whisper told me we’d dig.
They set to work, tearing and clawing at the soft earth, kicking the loosened mud aside till they had created a hollow deep enough to keep Bruno safe from surface scavengers. Deep enough to deter foxes, Alpha had said when they’d buried Whisper; but Whisper had been a smaller dog. It was a much bigger job to bury Bruno, but at last the hole was deep enough, and together they dragged Bruno to its edge. With a shove from Mickey and Storm, he rolled and thudded into dark, moist, exposed earth.
My paws. They’re shaking. It was just exhaustion, Storm told herself, but she knew that wasn’t true. It was shock and grief—and fear. My dream. This is just like my dream.
I didn’t know I’d feel so strongly about losing Bruno. I didn’t get along with him well—not till the end—and he made trouble for me. But he wasn’t a bad dog. He certainly wasn’t the bad dog.
Misery choked her. Bruno and I had only just learned how to get along, Earth-Dog. And now he’s dead, and you’ve taken him.
Moon gazed down into the grave, her drooping ears pricking up suddenly with sad curiosity. “Bruno’s jaw,” she murmured, her eyes distant. “He looks—it looks just like what happened to Terror. Remember, Storm?”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Breeze’s voice held an edge as she sidled closer and pressed her flank to Storm’s. “Just because it’s what Storm did to that mad dog Terror—there’s no way she’d do such a thing to Bruno. He was our Packmate!”
Storm felt her stomach shrink within her, and she couldn’t help cringing. Breeze always meant well, but there were times Storm wished she’d keep her jaws shut. Moon was staring at Breeze, her eyes startled.
“I didn’t mean that at all,” Moon stammered. “You know that, Storm, don’t you? It was just a . . . an observation. A big, strong dog—as big and strong as you—did this. That’s all.”
Storm nodded quickly. “I know. Of course.”
But the air was suddenly crisp with unease, and Storm felt heat run through the skin beneath her fur. Moon looked guilty, Breeze exasperated, and Alpha and Mickey simply uneasy.
“We should get back to the camp soon,” said Mickey, just as the silence was growing unbearable. The Farm Dog’s voice still sounded hoarse and rough, and again Storm felt a sharp twist of sympathy for him. No dog liked to bury an old friend. “Come on. We have to cover him.”
“Of course.” Breeze nuzzled him gently. “Then he’ll truly be with the Earth-Dog, Mickey.”
It didn’t take nearly so long to kick and scrape the soil back over Bruno’s corpse. When he was hidden from sight and the earth was piled back, it made Storm feel sick with despair. He’s gone. We won’t ever see him again—except, maybe, in dreams.
The sad and silent group plodded back to the glade, each dog lost in thought. Alpha picked up her pace as they reached the camp border, and she trotted in ahead of the others, barking a summons to the whole Pack.
“Pack! To me!” She stood patiently while the dogs gathered around her. Storm couldn’t help noticing that no dog’s tail wagged; every Packmate stood straight, their heads high and their faces somber. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I have come to a decision. Since it seems obvious to me now that poor Bruno was killed by a large dog, watches will be taken only by smaller Packmates until we have dealt with this.”
“But . . .” Sunshine, shivering, crept forward, her shoulders low and humble. “Alpha, us small dogs won’t be any match for the bad dog, if it attacks. . . .”
Alpha closed her eyes and gave a heavy sigh. “I know, Omega. But all of us bigger dogs will be watching one another. That means the traitor won’t have a chance to bother you. I hope.” She licked the little dog’s nose. “You’re the only dogs I can afford to trust with this, Sunshine. I know you won’t let me down.”
Storm could only listen, her mouth dry, a hollow sensation in her stomach. I’m the biggest dog here. And the strongest. Now that Woody has left and Bruno is dead—even I think I’m the most likely suspect.
Even as the horrible thought struck her, from the corner of her eye Storm saw Snap lift her head. The smaller dog gave a whine to draw Alpha’s attention.
“I hate to say this, but I’m going to. I must.” Snap shot a glance at Storm, and Storm almost recoiled at the hostility in her eyes. Snap’s hard brown stare was fixed on her, but Storm got the clear impression that Snap was talking to every dog but her. “The only dogs big enough to kill Bruno would be Storm and—maybe—Mickey or Lucky.” Snap licked her jaws and narrowed her eyes. “But Mickey couldn’t have done it. He was with me. And Lucky was Bruno’s Packmate, for a long time. They all survived the Growl together. They were friends, we all know that.”
“What are you saying, Snap?” Alpha’s tone was calm and steady.
It’s obvious what she’s saying. Storm felt the weight of horrible inevitability pressing down on her shoulders.
Snap sat back on her haunches, looking grim. “Every dog knows that Storm hated Bruno.”
The heat of rage was a ph
ysical force in Storm’s chest, swamping her misery. She struggled to hold the fury back, but it was too strong. It escaped her in a violent, angry bark.
“That isn’t true! I never hated Bruno! He hated me. But we made up! I wouldn’t hurt him. I was glad that we had become friends, after everything that had happened. . . . Bruno even apologized to me!”
Chase shut one eye and swished her tail doubtfully. “That doesn’t sound much like Bruno to me.”
He’s right. Desperately Storm turned to Lucky—but to her dismay, even the Pack Beta looked unsure. Lucky! You were like a Father-Dog to me! How can you believe this?
She felt as if an enormous boulder were crushing her to the ground. I can’t prove it—no one saw us talk. There’s no way I can prove that Bruno said he was sorry!
“It’s true!” To Storm’s surprise, it was Daisy who trotted to the center of the circle. The little dog’s eyes still looked hollow and grief-stricken, but there was a determined set to her jaw.
“Bruno told me!” announced Daisy, fixing Alpha with her most resolute gaze. “We talked about it only the other day. He said he was worried, and he felt guilty—that he’d maybe been unfair to Storm.”
Alpha looked startled. “Did he tell you he’d apologized to her?”
“No . . .” Daisy admitted. “He didn’t say that. But he was sorry. He told me so. And if Storm says he did, then I believe her.” She turned and gazed steadily at Storm, who felt her heart turn over with gratitude.
“I agree,” Sunshine piped up, wagging her ragged plume of a tail. “Storm would never hurt Bruno, anyway. I know she wouldn’t. She’s a kind, good dog!”
Alpha nodded, got to her paws, and looked around the Pack silently, as if coming to a decision. Storm waited with her heart beating high in her throat.
Alpha and Beta know me. They must know I wouldn’t do this. But could she be certain? However much they cared for Storm, they hadn’t done a great job of standing up for her recently.
“Storm is a member of our Pack,” Alpha said at last. “A loyal Packmate who has stood by us in many dangers—who has fought off enemies, and saved my pups. I will not have the members of this Pack turning on one another; that’s exactly what the traitor wants.” Storm’s ears pricked up with relief as Alpha’s eyes grew brilliant and ferocious. “No dog is to accuse any other from now on, unless they have some proof. Wild accusations and arguments do not help the Pack, or any dog in it! Is that understood?”