Eight

STACY’S DREAMS WERE fueled by the intense heat from the cave and by the real lyrics to that lullaby, which she seemed to have dug up from her memory. Mockingbirds flitted about with wings made of diamonds while billy goats and dogs chased each other through fiery castles.

Every once in a while she became aware of wolves moving around her. At one point, she could feel Tucker licking and cleaning her scratches while another wolf, Noah probably, washed her blistered skin with cool water from the river. Too tired even to say thank you, Stacy drifted off again.

Later, she tried to open her eyes when Everest pushed a piece of bread toward her lips. Only then did she realize she was ravenous. She chewed slowly, too tired to move. After she had swallowed a few bites, Everest seemed to be satisfied. He lay down next to her again and Stacy blocked out the bright sunshine at the cave’s entrance by burying her face in his thick fur.

She briefly wondered how the wolves could to do anything at all besides sleep, but they had always had deeper energy reserves than she did. She drifted off again.

After some time had passed, Stacy slowly became aware of the sounds around her—birdsong reached her from outside the cave’s entrance, and there was the quiet, steady breathing of her protector. Without even opening her eyes, she knew it was Everest keeping watch over her. She dragged herself up to a seated position and looked around. The sun was just beginning to set.

The other wolves were out and about, but Everest stood guard next to her.

“Is the dog still here?” she asked. “She didn’t run away, did she?”

Everest nodded, but Stacy realized she didn’t know which question he was answering yes to.

“She’s still here?” Stacy asked again, hopeful.

The alpha wolf nodded once more, and somehow Stacy knew he wouldn’t have let the dog leave—at least not until she had taken a good look at her.

“I’m so glad.” Stacy rubbed her face again. Her brain felt like it was filled with cobwebs. “I guess I slept all day,” she said to him.

He cocked his head with a questioning look.

“Two days?” Stacy asked incredulously.

Everest nodded. Stacy took a deep breath and began to move her arms and legs. “I’m fine,” she said. “A little stiff is all. Okay, a lot stiff.” She checked out her scratches, which were already healing. A deep purple bruise on her shin was tender to the touch, but her skin, which had felt like it had been scorched by the earth’s heat when she fell asleep, was cool. Tucker truly was an expert healer.

Everest nudged the water bucket in her direction and Stacy lifted it for a good, long drink. And then she ate the rest of the bread. Everest waited patiently for her to finish before trotting toward the back of the cave. When he returned, the little dog was with him.

Her reddish-brown, bushy tail wagging like crazy, the dog jumped into Stacy’s lap and started licking her face. Before long Stacy was giggling.

“All right, settle down, you crazy girl,” Stacy said, giving the dog a good scratch.

It took a few minutes, but the dog settled in her lap, her head on Stacy’s knee. She eyed the cave’s opening with a curious expression as if to say, What’s next?

Too tired to do anything else, Stacy grabbed a book from the shelf above her head and started turning the pages. She settled into one of her favorite chapters, enjoying the feeling of being home, being safe, and having a dog in her lap—the wolves were much too big for that.

Stacy already knew this dog was fearless, having stood her ground against the wild wolf pack and jumping over the magma to safety. It turned out she was also quite smart, using her nose to help her turn the pages of the book at exactly the right intervals.

Before Stacy could explore the dog’s talents further, Wink and Noah backed into the cave. Wink was dragging a bucket of Stacy’s stew while Noah was dragging a water bucket. Addison, Basil, and Tucker weren’t far behind.

There was a little celebration when they all saw that Stacy was awake and unhurt, and she took a moment to greet and thank each wolf for their help with the rescue and for taking such good care of her and the dog.

Then she dished out the stew in the six bowls, saving some for the little dog. She checked for a spare food bowl and settled on the broken plastic canteen a camper had carelessly thrown into the woods after it split in two, forming two receptacles.

Humans. Stacy almost growled when she thought the word. But the campers’ careless disdain for the forest did come in handy time and time again.

The makeshift bowl was the perfect size for a small dog dish. Stacy filled it with the stew and set it down in the same row as the wolves’ bowls.

“C’mere, girl,” Stacy said. “Dinnertime.”

The dog understood. She ran right over.

Stacy kneeled next to her to watch her eat. She didn’t know what the dog was used to eating, but she slurped up her pumpkin chicken stew in two or three bites. It made Stacy happy to see the dog fitting right in and doing so well.

“You can stick around for as long as you want,” Stacy told her, scratching behind her ears. “But you’ll need a name, won’t you?”

The dog looked up at Stacy and wagged her red-tinted tail.

“Scarlett?” Stacy said, trying it out.

The dog looked unimpressed.

“You’re right. Too dainty.” Stacy eyed the book she had set aside to serve dinner. “I know! We’ll call you Page, like a page in a book.”

Page seemed to approve. She jumped up and put her front legs on Stacy’s knee.

“Can you . . . understand me?” Stacy asked in disbelief. She leaned over to pet the dog, and was met with a big, sloppy kiss in return.

“Page it is, then,” she said. She introduced her to each of the wolves by name. One by one they pressed their noses against the dog’s to say hello and welcome.

“I guess you’re a member of the pack now,” Stacy said. “But stay away from those other wolves—the wild ones. Until we find them a better food source.”

Stacy was about to tell the dog more, but all of a sudden a bat flew past her head. Its wings almost brushed against her hair. She jumped. Then she noticed a few more bats hanging from the shelves at the back of the cave. That was unusual. She had worked hard filling the holes in the cave walls with mud to try to make it a place that bats didn’t want to inhabit. She believed that all living creatures had a right to live in the forest—except the humans who wanted to hunt or build or destroy—but bats had a habit of startling her. They came out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. Stacy would never say she hated any animal that called the taiga home, but secretly she did hate bats. A lot.

That’s weird . . . and annoying, she thought. At least they’ll all be outside for the night soon.

She turned away, not noticing that Page’s ears swiveled each time one flew by.