It was the evening of Wednesday – Woden’s Day – which felt like a good day to begin training the humans in obedience. Yet, so far, the obedience class had proved a sorry disappointment.
Six other dogs stood around the edges of a cold hall: a Great Dane as tall as a small pony, a yellow Labrador who smelled of wet pavements and four dogs of various mixed breeds, all smelling of the rain that still pattered against the windows. The hall smelled of even more dogs, their scents fading in and out of one another, some quite recent, others at least a week old.
The Great Dane trod on Storm’s paw. Watch it, little one.
Little one? Identify yourself, Storm snapped.
The Great Dane looked down at him, wagging his tail in puzzlement. I am Viking. This is my human, Henry.
Storm looked up at the skinny human who held the end of Viking’s leash. He was displaying a woeful lack of obedience, talking to the lady next to him and ignoring his canine master altogether.
Storm was surprised at the differences between humans. When you ran across the sky, there was very little time for looking down, and Storm had always assumed humans were more or less the same. He was finding out how wrong he’d been about that. There were tall humans and short ones, fat and thin. They all had different smells, which changed subtly, depending on the time of day. They all had names as well, and it appeared that the more important they were in the human world, the more names they had. Jessie’s father, for example, was called Dad and Mr Price and Stephen, depending on who was talking to him. Jessie was just Jessie, which seemed strange because she was the most important of all.
Storm turned back to Viking. What exactly do we do here?
The Great Dane shrugged, making dark ripples move down his coat. It’s our quiz night. The humans have crunchy treats and we have to work out how to get them. But the humans keep changing the rules to make it harder.
Wait a minute. Storm bristled. The humans set the rules?
You don’t have to follow them, one of the other dogs chimed in. It depends how much you like crunchy treats.
‘Come away, Viking,’ Henry muttered, tugging the dog away a few steps. Jessie picked Storm up and hugged him. He sniffed at her face. It was strange how he felt more puppyish when she was with him. The door opened and Storm stiffened in Jessie’s arms, then began to scrabble at her as the Fuzzy-Lady from the dog prison came in.
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she said. ‘The weather is awful today.’
You! Foul lady, you will not take me back to the place of comfortable confinement.
‘Sorry,’ Jessie said, putting Storm back on the floor. He wasn’t sure whether she was addressing him or foul Fuzzy-Lady. No matter. He’d wasted enough time here. Follow me, he commanded, tugging on the annoying leash Jessie had attached to his collar. Let us return to your dwelling.
Jessie tugged back. ‘Come here, Storm.’
You’re not very good at this obedience thing, are you?
Fuzzy-Lady smiled and reached out to take the end of the leash from Jessie. ‘Don’t worry. We all have to start at the beginning. How are you getting on together?’
We are getting on fine. Oh no, don’t you dare think you can start tugging me as well. Storm sat down.
Jessie crossed her arms and sighed, her cheeks turning red. Some of her lightning smell crept back, confused and frustrated. If only humans knew the language of the skies so he could talk to her, it would make things a lot easier. Storm resolved to speak with Odin about it when the Hunt returned.
The humans all shuffled closer into a circle, urging their dogs to follow. Some of them did, the Great Dane taking a few steps forward, then lying down again.
‘Storm, sit,’ Fuzzy-Lady said.
He was already sitting. What more did she want?
Nothing, apparently. The Fuzzy-Lady bent to scratch him behind his ears. ‘Good boy, Storm.’
Lady, you are insane. But what was the use in telling her that? She couldn’t understand a single word he was saying. But then she dug in her fuzzy pocket and offered him something crunchy. He’d thought the meaty chunks were delicious, but this tasted of a whole herd of cattle squashed down into one crispy morsel. Storm snapped it up. Maybe he wouldn’t smite her for her insolence just yet. She was human and stupid, after all. She didn’t know any better.
The dogs around him yapped, trying to get their own crunchy treats.
Wait your turn, Storm growled, his shadow growing for a moment. The Great Dane whined and shrank back.
Fuzzy-Lady handed Storm’s leash back to Jessie. ‘Well,’ she said with a nervous laugh, ‘let’s get started. Everyone, tell your dogs to sit.’
How was this supposed to teach the humans to obey?
Unless . . .
No, it was too horrible to contemplate.
Storm stood up in alarm.
‘Sit, Storm,’ Jessie said, bending and gently pushing him down.
Storm’s bottom sank to the floor. Along with the last shreds of his dignity.
I find if you ignore the humans for long enough they give you the treats anyway, a female terrier said, her tail wagging nervously.
Storm twisted his head, feeling the tug of the leash on his collar. Quiz night? he said.
The Great Dane avoided his gaze.
This was no game: humans actually believed they were in charge. The events of the past week suddenly made an awful kind of sense. Jessie’s father shutting him in the back room . . . Jessie scolding him for chasing next door’s cat . . .
How could this be? Jessie was only a child; she wasn’t even in charge of her own life. Storm had seen her leave the house resentfully to go to somewhere called ‘school’. Even her father, who was a grown man, couldn’t command the clouds, or even the smallest patch of earth beneath his feet.
It makes them feel better, the yellow Labrador said, noticing Storm’s confusion. The world is vast and they are little. It frightens them. Just do what the humans want and they’ll be happy and feed you. It’s how things work.
‘Sit, Buttercup,’ the Labrador’s human said. He sat back and looked up at his human servant adoringly, until the lady gave him a treat. His tail thumped.
This is slavery, Storm said. He still couldn’t believe the dogs would go along with this so easily. Didn’t they know they were descended from wolves? Where was their pride, their self-respect? Storm let out a whimper.
Oh, don’t be so dramatic, the Labrador said, standing up again. It’s an exchange. Follow a few simple instructions and the humans think you’re some kind of genius and feed you treats. You should try it.
‘Buttercup, sit,’ the Labrador’s human said.
The Labrador sat down. The human squealed. Two of the other humans applauded.
‘Well done,’ Fuzzy-Lady said, and Storm wasn’t sure whether she was talking to the Labrador or his human. They both seemed equally pleased.
Jessie shook Storm’s leash. ‘Storm, sit.’
Storm fixed her with a stare. You sit. I’m quite comfortable standing.
Jessie’s eyes became pleading. ‘Storm, please sit down.’
Her scent became anxious and she sounded like she was about to cry. Storm suddenly found that he didn’t want that.
He was a stormhound. Humans should obey him, not the other way round. On the other hand, she’d said ‘please’. Maybe it was all right to obey a request – especially when Jessie had tried so hard to please him.
Oh, all right, then. Storm sat down and wagged his tail.
The sudden change that came over Jessie’s face was worth thunder and lightning. The threat of tears vanished and she gave a big grin, her scent lighting up the hall. ‘Did you see that?’ she shouted.
The Labrador’s human laughed. ‘He was waiting for you to ask politely. Try it again.’
‘Storm,’ Jessie said, ‘please would you mind standing up?’
Storm waited a moment to build up suspense before he stood. I’m only doing this to make you look good in front of the other humans. I hope you appreciate it.
She did, he could tell. Her usually pale face flushed with pleasure.
‘You’ve got a knack for this,’ the Labrador’s lady said.
She’s got a knack for saying words?
‘Sit,’ Jessie said.
Storm wondered whether to do it this time.
‘Sit, please,’ Jessie said, her face full of admiration. He sat down.
‘Here,’ Fuzzy-Lady said, taking the leash back. ‘Let me try. Storm, please stand up.’
Storm looked at her and, very deliberately, he lay down.
Jessie laughed. ‘It’s like he did that on purpose.’
You bet I did.
And then the door opened, letting in a gust of rain and three men in overcoats.