Ten

STACY GAZED OUT over the endless blue-gray ocean, her hair rippling in front of her eyes as the salty sea air swirled all around her. She was standing at the edge of a rocky cliff, with Page and Molly on either side of her. They’d arrived at the ocean biome only moments ago. It had taken the group three and a half days to make the southeasterly trek through the mesa, wetlands, and fen biomes to the rocky beach they were in now. They had been slowed down considerably by Pearl, who was now weaker than ever—and Page and Molly, who obviously could not run as fast as Stacy’s wolves.

Stacy surveyed the coastline. To her left (north) there was a small beach campground with several tents and firepits. There were people swimming in the surf near the campground. We don’t want to go up there, that’s for sure. Directly below Stacy was a jagged stretch of coast. Swells from the ocean crashed violently against the craggy cliffside. Stacy turned to the right (south) and spotted a small cove surrounded by thick brush and tall grass. If we make our way down to that cove, I bet we’ll get there as the tide goes out. That should be a secluded spot for us to spend the night and, most importantly, get Pearl into the salt water to soak.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind hit Stacy’s back, toppling her forward. She stumbled toward the edge of the cliff and lost her footing, teetering back and forth just inches from falling. She waved her arms in frantic circles, trying to regain her balance, as Page and Molly looked up at her in helpless horror. Stacy was pitched forward so she could see the sharp rocky death that awaited her a hundred feet below. At least it will be instant, Stacy thought. But no sooner had the thought entered her mind, a second gust of wind—this one at least ten times stronger than the first—came from the opposite direction, hitting her directly in the stomach and knocking her backward. Stacy flew back six or seven feet away from the edge, coming down on her back. Her head jerked backward but was spared from hitting the rocks on the ground by another gust of wind that created an airy cushion between her body and the ground. She was fully suspended in the air for a split second before gently dropping a few inches down on the gravel.

Stacy sprang to her feet. What just happened? Then she turned around and saw him. Atlas! The massive wolf was standing right behind her, his soft fur billowing in the breeze. Your power . . . it’s the wind!

Stacy was so relieved to be away from the edge of the cliff—and to finally know what Atlas’s power was. She stepped up to him and extended her hand, which the large wolf met with his head. Stacy gave him a pat of deep gratitude and then ran back to where the others were standing.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said as she received wolf hugs from Everest, Wink, Basil, and Noah. “Thanks to Atlas—he saved me.” Everest and the others nodded in appreciation to Atlas, who had returned to Pearl’s side. Pearl was propped up between Paisley and Ribsy. Stacy walked over to her.

“Hang on just a little longer, girl,” Stacy whispered in her ear. “We’re here.”

Stacy led everyone down a series of steep switchbacks toward the cove she’d seen from the top of the cliff. Just as she suspected, the tide was retreating as they made their way onto the secluded beach.

“Quick!” Stacy called to her pack. “Get Pearl into the ocean.”

Everest, Atlas, Noah, and Wink carried Pearl down the beach and laid her in the surf. Stacy ran to catch up with them and bent down over Pearl’s stiff body. It was lifeless.

“NO!!” Stacy sobbed. “Pearl, you can’t die! Ribsy, quick, heal her!”

Ribsy lay down next to Pearl, and a small wave washed over them both. Seconds later, when the wave receded, Ribsy was gaunt—reduced to skin and bones again. Pearl was still motionless. Another second passed and suddenly she took a deep breath and snapped open her aquamarine eyes, a glimmer of hope shining brightly in them now.

“Pearl!” Stacy exclaimed. “Thank goodness!”

The sun began to set, and the quiet evening came to the little cove where Stacy, Page, Molly, and the wolves were huddled. Basil lit a bonfire on the beach, and Noah and Ribsy caught fish for the pack to eat for dinner. As they fished, Pearl swam tentatively around the cove, slowly regaining her strength. Ribsy had a unique way of killing fish—he caught them gently in his mouth and brought them to shore. Instead of flapping around wildly like the ones Noah caught, they seemed calm and still, as if in a trance. Ribsy bent down over each fish and seemed to almost suck the life right out of them. The fish died quickly and peacefully. Incredible, Stacy thought, as she and the others lounged on the beach. There was no need to build a shelter for the night to protect against the wind because it hadn’t been blowing since they’d arrived in the cove—That must be Atlas’s work.

Stacy sat in front of the bonfire, eating fresh-caught cod cooked and seasoned with wild fennel Paisley had foraged from the bluffs that surrounded the cove. Stacy looked around the circle of animals she was with, staring for a long time at Atlas, Paisley, and Ribsy—her new pack members. Stacy didn’t know what the future held. What happened to these wolves’ parents? Would the mesa pack want to come home to the taiga with us? If Pearl heals, will she need to stay close to the ocean? Stacy didn’t know the answers to these questions, but she was so grateful to have found the wolves. Stacy stood and walked down the beach to where Pearl was swimming and threw her a piece of fish. Pearl caught it in her mouth and swallowed it.

“Get some good rest tonight, will you?” Stacy said to her before heading back up the beach to where the others were bedding down for the night. She fell asleep against Wink and Paisley, looking up at the stars until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

Stacy woke up rather abruptly the next morning when a big clump of sand hit her in the face.

“Plthhhh . . . ppppthhhhh,” Stacy sputtered as she sat up and spat the sand out of her mouth. She looked over to see Molly happily digging on the beach, unaware that she was kicking sand up onto Stacy.

“Molly!” Stacy shouted. “Stop!” The little dog whipped around and cocked her head, looking at her owner for a second before happily running over to greet Stacy. Molly’s nose was covered in sand, and she was panting heavily. Stacy couldn’t possibly be mad at her.

“Are you enjoying the beach, girl?” Stacy cooed at Molly. “Or, at least, the sand part of the beach. I know you’re still a bit leery of the water.”

Stacy got up and stretched. She looked at all her wolves who were sleeping around her—still tired from the journey to the ocean. Page was running along the shore chasing seagulls. She looked as if she was having the time of her life. Stacy walked over to the only two wolves who weren’t dozing: Atlas and Pearl. Atlas was watching Pearl from the beach. Stacy waded into the water up to her knees to get closer to Pearl, who was swimming in large circles around the cove. Stacy noticed that Pearl was swimming slightly faster than she had been able to the previous evening. And her fur was looking shiny and smooth. Maybe I was right, after all. Maybe the ocean can heal her.

Stacy left Atlas and Pearl and walked with Molly over toward where Page was playing on the beach, where the cove gave way to a jumble of rocks and small tide pools. Stacy climbed over the rocks with Page and Molly and set off on a walk on the other side of the cove—she figured she could explore a little, while all the wolves rested. The sun was just beginning to poke out over the horizon of the ocean. Now that Stacy was here, she was quite certain that the beach she had visited before had been a great big lake and not an ocean. For starters, the beach she had been to before was filled only with smooth rocks and driftwood. She had never experienced sand like this before. She loved the way it felt as she squished her toes down into it. And there were lots of other things here that she didn’t remember seeing on that trip. Seashells! Sand dollars! And starfish! And all the—yeeeeeooooowwwww! Stacy looked down at the small red crab who had locked onto her toe with its right claw.

“Get off of me, you crusty crab!” Stacy yelled in pain. She didn’t want to hurt the crab, but she now wished she hadn’t left her boots back at the cove where her wolves were sleeping. Fortunately, the crab released its grip, and Stacy hopped away. Page growled at the crab ferociously.

“It’s fine, Page,” Stacy said. “Just leave him.”

Stacy, Page, and Molly continued walking across the rocky beach at the edge of the cove and eventually came to a point where the beach widened again. Stacy looked back toward the cove, which was now completely hidden from view. We can go a little bit farther. We’re not that far away really.

Stacy picked up a piece of driftwood and threw the stick as far as she could down the beach. Page and Molly took off running after it, with Page easily winning the race and bringing the stick back to Stacy. Meanwhile, Molly seemed to forget what she was doing midway down the beach and began barking at a pile of seaweed that had washed up on the shore. Stacy played fetch with Page for a long time while Molly gnawed on seaweed pods. And when Page got tired, all of them sat down in the sand and watched the waves roll in. Stacy studied the birds of the beach biome intently. There were the seagulls who glided slowly around above her head, catching rides on waves of wind. There were pelicans who periodically dove into the water for fish. And dozens of little sandpipers ran down the beach as the waves receded, looking for tiny insects to eat—only to race back up the sand as the next wave arrived. Stacy’s mind wandered as she watched the birds.

If the ocean heals Pearl . . . she’ll have to stay here. And her pack members will want to stay with her. Could we move here? Leave the taiga? It’s always been my home, but for as long as I can remember, the villagers have been trying to force me out of it. First, they came and hunted the wolves, then there was the construction company that attempted to demolish it. Now the wolf researchers are constantly poking around for new subjects to study . . . not to mention the steady flow of hikers and campers . . . and the forest fire that almost destroyed everything. What if we moved here? Page and Molly seem to love it. But what about Milquetoast and Pipsqueak? I can’t imagine a cat living on a beach. And what if Addison and Tucker don’t like it here? And what about Miriam and her offer to send me to school . . . and Dr. Kay and the hospital bill I need to work off . . . and Ezra and the animal shelter I can volunteer at?

Stacy realized she was staring at something in the distance, bobbing on the ocean’s surface. What is that? Whatever it was, it sank under the water briefly and then, a moment later, resurfaced. Stacy jumped up. Is it an animal? She squinted—the morning sun was reflecting off the water, making it impossible for Stacy to know for sure. Something didn’t feel right to Stacy about the way it jerked around helplessly in the water.

“I’m pretty sure it’s an animal,” Stacy said to Page and Molly as she lifted her satchel’s strap above her head, flung it to the ground, and started running into the surf. “And I think it’s in trouble!”