Storm of Dogs Page 13

  Lucky looked about, gripped with fear. There was no scent of anyone—not a rabbit, not a longpaw, not even a lone bird. The tall buildings of the town blocked the wind. It was so quiet and deserted that Lucky felt as though he was completely alone in the world.

  His eyes trailed along the dark contours of the overgrown park. They rested on a tree—the first he had seen in the town that was still standing totally upright. Even here, even after the Growl, could the Forest-Dog be near? This thought gave him a little bit of comfort. He had a strong impulse to find shelter. The Forest-Dog will care for me and protect me from the cold.

  The fear in Lucky’s heart eased and he crossed the park, squeezing himself between broken railings and out onto the street. He padded along the hardstone until he found a longpaw house with its door hanging off at an angle. Sliding under the broken door, he crept inside.

  Lucky stepped furtively through a dark corridor. The smell of longpaws was faint—they couldn’t have returned here after the first Growl, not even to sniff around. He found a pile of old soft-hides and dragged them against a wall, sneezing as dust rose from them and filled the air. At least the hides were warm and the worst of the chill was kept out by the thick walls of the building. Lucky didn’t like the thought that he was relying on longpaws again—hiding away in their huge dens, using their soft-hides—but it couldn’t be helped. He lowered his head onto the hides with a long whine and was soon fast asleep.

  Lucky opened his eyes and gazed up into the piercing sunlight. The Sun-Dog was bounding over the Endless Lake, lighting the waves so they sparkled blue like the Sky-Dogs. From his vantage point on the cliffs, he could just hear the distant sigh of the tumbling water as it lapped against the sand. He stretched his legs and yawned, rolling onto his back. The Sun-Dog tickled his belly with his warming rays. From the corner of his eye, Lucky saw a rabbit shoot out from a hole and hop between the grass stems. The prey-creature paused to wash its forepaws, and Lucky watched lazily. He didn’t give chase. His belly was already full, and the Pack had plenty of kill left over from their morning hunt.

  Instead Lucky batted absently at a fly that swooped above his nose. Birds twittered in the nearby trees and foraged for worms in the valley, now a meadow bursting with wildflowers and butterflies. A deep sensation of contentment ran through Lucky’s fur.

  He heard a series of high-pitched yaps and climbed onto his paws. Pups! Lucky trod through the long grass stems toward the circle of trees by the pond. He could see four puppies sitting on flat rocks, their heads cocked in concentration. Lucky took in their fuzzy, narrow bodies, their large soft heads, and their floppy ears. They all had slender muzzles and dark-brown eyes, but two had sandy fur, one a deeper tan coat, and the last had fur as dark as her eyes.

  A short distance away was a dark, looming shape. A chill cut through Lucky’s heart, and his breath caught in his throat. A Fierce Dog!

  She rose on her powerful legs, the muscles rippling beneath her glossy coat. Then she noticed Lucky, acknowledging him with a wag of her tail. This was no deadly attack-dog—it was Storm, all grown up!

  “What happened then?” whined the sandy pup with shaggy fur.

  “Yes, Storm, what happened then?” yipped the others.

  Storm’s eyes widened dramatically. “Then the ground started quivering so hard that trees shook and fell to the ground! The dogs turned to one another, wondering if it was the end of the world.”

  “And was it?” asked the dark brown pup in a small voice. She was as slender as a swift-dog, but her fur was longer and looked fuzzy to the touch.

  “Of course it wasn’t,” said the short-furred sandy pup. She raised her muzzle self-importantly, reminding Lucky of Bella when she was young. “Otherwise Storm wouldn’t be here to tell the story!”

  “I almost wasn’t,” said the Fierce Dog seriously. “Everything shook, the Endless Lake went wild, the cliffs crumbled, and the sky turned dark.”

  “Even the Earth-Dog couldn’t shake the whole world!” gasped the fourth pup, cocking her tan head in disbelief.

  “But she did,” said Storm. “I know—I was there! It happened just before the great battle, the Storm of Dogs.”

  The pups must have heard the term before, as they all gasped, blinking at one another and turning back to the Fierce Dog. “What happened then?” they whined in unison.

  “The battle was terrible!” she told them, her floppy ears pricking up. “Every dog fought to the death. The Packs clashed, and all you could hear were barks and howls. Not every dog made it. . . .” Storm’s voice grew softer.

  “Why were the dogs fighting?” asked the little dark brown pup.

  “A crazed dog called Blade forced the battle—she was sure the world would end if she didn’t. She thought Earth-Dog growled because she was mad and that she’d be even angrier if she wasn’t appeased. Secretly, I think Blade just wanted a good fight—and she was going to fight no matter what.”

  The puppies shuddered and pressed closer together.

  “And your Mother-Dog and Father-Dog were very brave. We wouldn’t have beat her without them.”

  The pups barked and turned to look at Lucky in admiration.

  “Did you fight the mean dog, Father?” asked the slender dark brown pup.

  “Your Father-Dog had an important role in the battle,” said Storm.

  “What was it?” asked the shaggy-furred pup.

  “Did he kill a bad dog?” asked the short-furred sandy pup.

  Storm glanced at Lucky, her eyes twinkling enigmatically. Then she turned back to the puppies. “Your Father-Dog has always had an ear to the Spirit Dogs. They spoke to him and showed him the way—and when the time came, he knew what to do.”

  The pups looked at Lucky. Suddenly he knew what their names were.

  Forest, Sky, River, and Earth . . .

  Sky, the short-furred sandy pup, burst forward with a shrill yap. “Our Father-Dog, a hero!”

  The other pups ran after her. They crowded around Lucky, a yipping, squirming, licking bundle of fur. He was buried beneath their warm, sweet bodies.

  When Lucky blinked away sleep, it was just getting light. He padded through the silent longpaw house. A calm had come over him. Not all dreams were filled with shadows. . . . He had imagined a future where the Pack lived in peace, without the terror of the Fierce Dogs, where Storm was happy and where Sweet had mothered a beautiful litter of pups.

  Our pups.

  A wave of gratitude ran through him for the Spirit Dogs, who had visited Lucky in his loneliness and brought him hope. He set off for Blade’s camp with a spring in his step. He had seen a future of darkness and terror, but he had also seen one of joy and peace. The second future, where his pups were free beneath the Sun-Dog’s light, would keep him going through the dark times to come. He would fight to his last breath to make that dream come true.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  A thin light clung over the Endless Lake as Lucky crept over the broken streets to the border of the town. Split hardstone gave way to sand, sloping down to the water’s edge. Debris bobbed on the frothing waves. Lucky could make out the wheel of a loudcage, a spoil-box, and what looked like a jumble of soft-hides tossing in the current. White waterbirds swooped overhead, screeching like angry sharpclaws. At least it was a sign of life. Despite his sense of solitude, Lucky reminded himself that he wasn’t alone.

  With a start, he detected a familiar scent that made his blood run cold. Fierce Dogs! He wasn’t alone at all.

  He backed along the edge of a street and shrank against the wall as three attack-dogs marched over the high bank of the Endless Lake. They slammed down their paws with ferocious self-assurance, kicking up sand. Lucky wondered whether Blade had brought her Pack to the town, but sniffing about, he didn’t think so. It’s just a patrol. They are on the lookout . . . probably keeping a special watch for Sweet’s Pack—for Storm. Blade will be keen for news.

  He watched as the attack-dogs looped back along the waterfront and strutted toward
the cliffs. It was just as he’d thought—they were returning to the dark lair nestled along the rocks, near the Wild Pack’s camp. They must have figured out that we’ve gone. This was bound to infuriate Blade. Lucky knew that the leader of the Fierce Dogs wasn’t about to let Storm out of her grasp—her Pack would soon be hunting for the young dog over each broken street, across every deserted valley. He shuddered, thinking of the Wild Pack hiding upstream.

  Well, they won’t have to search for long, thought Lucky. Steeling himself, he rose up on his paws. Avoiding the patrol, he cut through side streets to climb farther up the bank of the lake. He retraced the rocky path through the cliffs, careful to avoid the unstable cliff face. His paws slipped on the icy ground, and he ordered himself to slow down. If he lost his footing now, he might tumble backward and be smashed against the rocks. It wasn’t just about him—the whole Pack was counting on Lucky.

  By the time he approached the lair within the cave, the Sun-Dog had risen over the cliffs. The light was misty, partially concealed by twisting clouds. Lucky stalked low to the ground, hiding behind a ridge of rock a good rabbit-chase away. From this distance, there was no sign that the Fierce Dogs’ lair had been damaged in the Growl. Lucky felt a twinge of disappointment. If Blade had been injured or even killed . . . but no, he would have to go through with the plan.

  He took a deep breath, remembering the warmth and safety he had felt in his dream. Pausing in his stride, he allowed the memory of its peace and tranquility to wash over him. It gave him confidence as he opened his jaws and howled Blade’s name.

  There was an anxious twitter of birds, but no dog emerged from Blade’s lair. Lucky cocked his head, ears pricked. Had he heard a bark? He howled again, throwing more force into his voice.

  “Blade!”

  This time Lucky was sure he’d heard barking from within the cave. There was a scuffling of paws and several Fierce Dogs burst out, with Blade in the lead. She caught sight of Lucky, who hovered by the rock wall, staring straight at her. He stood his ground, even as Blade’s lips gaped open and her teeth gnashed with a furious snarl.

  “City Rat! Have you forgotten your previous visit?”

  Lucky thought he should have shivered at the sight of her bared teeth, but instead he only felt the warmth of his dream tingle through his fur. Blade is just a tyrant and a bully. She rules with fear, with no respect for loyalty or honor. Look at Fang. . . . Lucky pushed away the memory of the bleeding dog. Blade has had her time, he thought angrily, but she is destined to be defeated. The thought gave him courage.

  Blade must have seen something on Lucky’s face that made her hesitate. She stopped in her tracks, her fur visibly rising along her back in dark spikes. Her deputies, Mace and Dagger, stood just behind her, with several other Fierce Dogs guarding the entrance to the cave, their dark heads dropped threateningly.

  Blade glared at Lucky. “Surely even you are not stupid enough to come back here alone. Where is the rest of your pathetic Pack?”

  Lucky cleared his throat. “Our Alpha is not interested in a battle with you. You spoke of Earth-Dog’s fury, and you were right—a second Growl came. It broke off the edges of the cliffs and stirred Lake-Dog into a fury. Our Alpha does not want to anger the Spirit Dogs. Your fight is with Storm, not with all of our Pack. Combat between our Packs will only lead to unnecessary bloodshed.”

  “Your bloodshed,” growled Blade contemptuously. “Not ours.”

  Lucky kept his voice steady. “There is no need to involve our Packs in this. Your issue is with Storm, and she has challenged you to a fair fight. She will meet you by the frozen riverbank, past the longpaw town and their broken wooden ledge that sprawls over the Endless Lake. On the banks of the river, where the forest begins, Storm will meet you to fight it out. She will wait for you alone as the Sun-Dog rises tomorrow. And she will defeat you in single combat.”

  Blade sneered. “That pup? Defeat me?”

  Mace and Dagger barked in amusement, and the other Fierce Dogs echoed them.

  A shiver ran along Lucky’s back. If Blade refused the challenge, their plan would be for nothing. He thought of Sweet’s and Twitch’s Packs, gathered in the cold by the rock face, waiting for him to return.

  The Fierce Dog Alpha relaxed visibly. Her nerves at seeing Lucky so bold seemed to have vanished, and some of her former cool swagger returned. “I am glad that the pup has finally seen fit to offer herself up to the Earth-Dog as sacrifice. She is deeply deluded if she thinks she can beat me, but if it’s a fight she wants, it’s a fight she’ll get.” Blade’s lip wrinkled scornfully. “You can tell the pup I’ll be there. And she’d better be prepared to be ripped open so the rats can finish her off. I was merciful with her litter-brothers—when the time came, their deaths were fast. Storm will not be treated with the same . . . compassion.”

  Lucky’s muzzle tensed. He remembered Fang’s brutal death with a sickening twist of his belly. Blade doesn’t know the meaning of compassion.

  Her hackles rose threateningly. “Now run and tell Storm that, City Dog. And run fast! You have exactly two heartbeats to get out of my sight, or we’ll deliver the answer to Storm ourselves, along with your pelt as a trophy.”

  Lucky spun on his paws and shot over the rocks, darting between hedges toward the Wild Pack’s deserted camp, toward the passage that wove between the rocks and down to the Endless Lake. He knew he had to be quick. He couldn’t trust Blade to stick to the rules. The Fierce Dog might guess that his Pack was hiding near the riverbank. If she gave chase now, she would find them—he needed to tell Sweet that the attack-dogs were coming.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The clouds had drawn in by the time Lucky reached the winding riverbank. The sky was metallic, a glistening gray, but no rain fell in the murky air. Lucky stopped to look up between the bare branches of a tree. An icy wisp spun down toward him, fizzing on his nose. He recoiled with a whine, remembering the foul black snow that had fallen in the forest, upstream by the Pack’s old camp as he’d searched for Mickey. He sniffed carefully. There was no hint of foulness in the air. A flake landed at his paws, small and white. He gave it a gentle tap, and it melted with a cool tingle. Don’t be silly, Lucky berated himself. It’s just ordinary snow.

  Still, he slowed his pace a little, advancing more cautiously between the foliage and weaving a path behind the rocky outcrop, watching as the snow twirled and fell on the hedges. He could already sense his Pack. His tail wagged in anticipation, and he thought of Sweet with her soft, velvety coat and her delicious smell.

  He pushed through the undergrowth and was greeted by a sight that warmed his heart. The two Packs were curled together in a tight circle, keeping each other warm. Lucky held back a moment, enjoying the scene. Whisper was licking Storm’s ears, Mickey and Snap were pressed next to Splash, and Twitch was talking to Sweet in hushed tones. Lucky cocked his head, gazing through the undergrowth. He was about to announce his presence when Daisy gave a shrill yelp.

  “Look at the rain. It’s falling in white lumps!”

  Storm sprang to her paws with a growl. “And it feels different. Sort of soft but colder than usual.”

  Beetle and Thorn started running in tight circles.

  “It isn’t disappearing when it reaches the ground!” Thorn whined. “Something has gone wrong with the rain!”

  “Maybe the Sky-Dogs are angry!” Beetle whimpered, scrambling to his Mother-Dog’s side. “Is it something to do with the Growl?”

  “It’s okay, young dogs,” Moon soothed. “This is called snow. It isn’t anything to be scared of. When the Ice Wind is deep and takes hold of the land, sometimes even the Sky-Dogs feel the chill. Their fur bristles from the cold and their rain turns soft and white.”

  Storm looked up accusingly. “But why now? Are you sure the Sky-Dogs aren’t angry, like Lake-Dog was when the Growl came back?”

  Martha rose and gathered Storm and Thorn toward her. “It’s just snow, like Moon said. It won’t hurt us.”

  “And when
it gets warmer, the snow will melt into water, just like rain,” Moon assured them. “And Earth-Dog will lap it up.”

  “Why doesn’t she do that now?” Daisy asked. “Is it too cold for Earth-Dog?”

  “Yes,” Moon murmured. “Snow is very cold, and that isn’t how Earth-Dog likes it. She will wait until the snow melts to rain. Then she will drink it and it will all disappear.”

  This seemed to reassure Daisy, and she breathed slowly through her nose, releasing a cloud of steam. She settled by Martha’s side as all the dogs gazed into the snow, falling silent in its soft hush.

  Lucky felt a rush of affection for his Pack. He opened his mouth, about to bark his arrival, but he caught a strange scent and froze. A Fierce Dog!

  It wasn’t Storm. Some other Fierce Dog was here. There was only one scent, but that didn’t reassure Lucky. He shrank back into the undergrowth and stalked around the edge of the little makeshift camp, treading lightly so as not to make a sound. Fear bristled along Lucky’s neck, and he fought to stay calm, trying to remember the warmth and peace of his dream—if he panicked now, the Fierce Dog might smell his fear-scent.

  As Lucky watched, concealed beneath behind a snowy branch, the Fierce Dog came into view. His muscles flexed beneath his short black fur and he panted heavily, wild-eyed, as though he had been running for many rabbit-chases. Lucky recognized the trespasser as Arrow, the young Fierce Dog who’d been fortunate enough to have been born just before the Big Growl. Arrow’s eyes were fixed on the Packs. He didn’t notice Lucky crouching nearby as he clambered over a fallen log toward the camp.

  Lucky pounced. He slammed into Arrow’s chest as the Fierce Dog hopped off the log, throwing him into a thicket of brambles. The young dog struggled, twisting beneath Lucky’s weight, and Lucky pressed down onto his chest. Arrow gasped for breath but didn’t bite or snap. The Fierce Dog looked exhausted.