CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The pale golden, early light of the Sun-Dog glowed between the pine trunks as the dogs crashed through the undergrowth and back into the clearing. Panting, they all came to a halt as they blinked at Alpha. She was standing on all four paws, worry still etched on her face as her pups gamboled between her slender legs. Watching her eyes, Storm could tell she was counting the members of the rescue party, over and over again. At last Alpha nodded, her expression one of satisfaction and deep relief, and all her muscles seemed to relax. She sat back on her haunches.

“You did it,” she said quietly. “Well done, all of you. And welcome back, Thorn and Beetle.” Her greeting to the two wanderers was tinged with the promise, Storm thought, of further stern words to come later. But for now, their Alpha was clearly too happy to have her Pack back together—whole; no dog lost.

The rest of the Pack was gathering, yelping with delight. “What happened?” asked Daisy.

“Where did you find them?” yapped Sunshine. “Oh, it’s so good to have you all back!”

It was Moon who stepped forward, her stiff tail quivering, her eyes flashing with anger. “My pups—my offspring—decided it would be a clever idea to go to the place where the longpaws are building. They thought it showed intelligence to go and mess up that place, as some kind of ridiculous revenge.” The growl in her voice grew louder, more threatening. “And they did all this after I had told them to stay away from there—to stay away from all longpaws. And I apologize to the whole Pack on behalf of my stupid, irresponsible litter!”

The Pack stood silent, shuffling and blinking in shock and slight embarrassment. It was so unlike Moon to criticize her pups, thought Storm—especially with such savage words. She must be really furious. It’s clear they terrified her with this escapade of theirs.

“Moon! That’s not fair!” protested Beetle. “All we wanted to do was make the longpaws leave! We thought if we made a mess at their building-place, they’d go away!”

“And we deserve revenge,” barked Thorn grumpily. “The longpaws killed our Father-Dog and they should pay.”

“That is exactly my point, you foolish pups!” Moon turned on the pair of them. “They killed your Father-Dog, the strongest, smartest, best dog I ever knew. Fiery was the most powerful fighter our Pack ever had. What did you two think you could achieve? What was the point of putting yourselves in such needless danger? You’re still young! You don’t have the strength your Father-Dog had—and you’re certainly not as smart, judging by your antics today!”

Thorn and Beetle stared moodily at the ground, their tails clamped to their haunches, their ears drooping. There was sullen resentment in their posture, but it was clear they were cowed by their Mother-Dog’s words.

They know what they did was wrong, Storm thought. They may not ever admit it, but Moon’s made it pretty clear how stupid and reckless they’ve been. They know.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” said Alpha, her voice level. She seemed to have decided that for the moment at least, no more scolding was needed from her, after the tongue-lashing the two had had from Moon.

“We just wanted to mess things up a bit,” mumbled Beetle. “But two longpaws caught us. They grabbed Thorn, and I was furious and I went to help her—but they were cunning and strong and they grabbed me too.”

“That was always going to happen,” snapped Moon.

Thorn tucked her ears back, looking ashamed. “And they tied us up, with rope around our necks so we couldn’t get away.”

There were gasps from the Pack, especially from the dogs who had never been Leashed in their lives. “Tied you up?” barked Snap in horror.

“Lucky knew what to do,” said Mickey, nodding respectfully at his Beta.

“It wasn’t hard, once we knew where Beetle and Thorn were.” Lucky paced forward. “It was the kind of den I knew how to open. And ropes can be wriggled out of, if a dog has help and can keep its nerve. The worst part was getting away from there, once the den sounded the alarm and the longpaws came running.”

“Yes.” Breeze nodded vigorously. “That was frightening. I fell into a hole while I was running, and Storm had to get me out.” She wagged her tail gratefully at Storm.

Gradually the muttering and the shocked explanations died away, as Alpha remained silent. At last she stepped forward, waving her tail slowly and thoughtfully. Her face was stern.

“I agree with Moon,” she told them all. She shot Beetle and Thorn a disapproving glance. “These two pups of hers ran willingly into a perilous situation, and by doing so they put the whole Pack in danger. And that danger has not gone away; what if the longpaws come looking for them now?”

That did not seem to have occurred to Beetle and Thorn. They exchanged a look of dawning horror, and their heads hung low.

There was movement at Alpha’s paws; the pups had abandoned their halfhearted game, clearly sensing the seriousness of the adult dogs around them. Storm could see Tiny, cowering behind her Mother-Dog’s legs, her eyes huge. The pups surely did not understand the gravity of the Pack’s situation, but she could tell they knew that the older dogs were on edge—nervous.

It would be so tough on all the pups if we have to leave this camp now, she thought. And it would be especially hard on Tiny. She’s the most vulnerable of the four of them. . . . And they’d be even more vulnerable if we didn’t have a camp. . . .

Alpha’s loud bark broke into her thoughts. She glared at Thorn and Beetle. “You two were irresponsible and stupid to go to the longpaw place.”

Neither of the litter-siblings said a word, but they crouched low, clearly knowing that their only choice was humble submission.

“What’s more,” Alpha went on, “it was equally irresponsible and stupid for Storm and Mickey to conceal what they knew about your no-sun jaunts. All four of you will be punished.”

Again, thought Storm, gloomily and rather resentfully. Always, I get punished. When I’m just trying to do the right thing . . .

Alpha was still talking in that severe, disapproving voice; Storm wished that she would just get on with the punishment. “Mickey and Beetle will take High Watch together. When their watch is finished, Storm and Thorn can take over. You can all use the time to reflect on how irresponsible you are. And maybe, if you have older dogs close by, you won’t be so eager to run off and put the whole Pack at risk!”

The earth between her claws was raw and moist . . . the stench of loudcages clung to her nose like a vicious claw. All around her was darkness, except for where those strange longpaw-lights shone down in pools of glaring whiteness. Strips of metal, pale planks of freshly cut wood, and shining longpaw tools lay all around, in heaps and stacks; she flinched away from them in fear. And there, right in her line of vision, was the metal den on wheels where Beetle and Thorn had been caged. It looked bigger and more intimidating than it had before, and the longpaw-lights bathed it in a sinister white glow.

How can I be back at the longpaw camp? Storm wondered. Oh, Sky-Dogs, Alpha will be so furious with me. . . .

With shaking paws, she trod toward the light of the den, feeling herself slip in the damp, turned mud. The hatch was there in the wall, with its silver lever; as Storm stared at it, she could hear the barks of the dogs imprisoned within. But they didn’t sound like Beetle and Thorn; the yelps were high-pitched and terrified, the squeaking cries of tiny helpless creatures. . . .

It’s the pups! They’ve been captured!

Storm lunged for the hatch, scrabbling at the lever. But the trick that had worked instantly for Lucky proved impossible for her. The silver thing slipped from beneath her paws, or stuck fast, however hard she tried to grab and turn it. Her teeth slid off its surface, making her stumble and bang her skull against the metal side of the den. Once again she scratched wildly at the lever with her claws, but it would not turn. She bit down on it, pulling with her jaws—but succeeded only in tearing out her own teeth.

It’s no good. I can’t open it. I can’t help the pups!

There was a roaring sound behind her. Wild-eyed, Storm turned to see the glaring eyes of the longpaws’ loudcages, bumping across the ground toward her. It’s too late!

Then she realized the loudcages weren’t bumping at all. They were flying across the ground, faster and faster. She’d never seen loudcages move so swiftly. They raced toward her as if they had wings. . . .

And then she saw. They were not loudcages at all; there was only one pair of glowing eyes, and those belonged to a dog. A great, black, terrifying creature that thundered toward her and the imprisoned pups. It was almost upon her, a hulking beast made of shadow and terror.

The Fear-Dog.

Storm could not move, could not bark. She was as powerless as the pups that she could not save. Frozen, helpless, she watched the Fear-Dog loom over her, its jaws falling open to reveal deadly fangs and an endless, gaping throat. . . .

She woke, shuddering, her racing heart pumping blood through her veins that felt like ice water.

The Fear-Dog.

The longpaw site.

And one of them, at least, was real.

Staggering to her paws, Storm stared around her. Against a gray sky, pale at the horizon with the promise of the waking Sun-Dog, she saw the walls and trenches and loudcages of the longpaws’ building-place. Storm swallowed hard, suppressing a whine.

I walked in my sleep again. And this place is wide awake!

The longpaw site was a chaos of activity. The giant yellow loudcages growled and rumbled and screeched, digging deep grooves in the earth, or shoving piles of mud and stones. Longpaws barked and yelled to one another, and hammered metal spikes with great clubs of iron. Even more of those huge square pits had been dug in the earth; vast piles of excavated soil dotted the ground like small, newborn mountains. Turning, Storm saw more loudcages approaching from her own side of the wire fence; they looked purposeful and determined, grumbling and growling toward the site.

Alpha was right. More longpaws are coming! They want this place for themselves, and they’ll keep it no matter what we do. How could Beetle and Thorn ever have believed they could stop them?

A loudcage roared to life, barely a rabbit-chase from her flank, and Storm leaped into the air in fright. She had been too disoriented to notice it lying there in wait, and now it was attacking her!

Camp! I have to get back to the camp! Spinning, she fled, but the ground was uneven and her head was still dizzy, and she stumbled. She had barely gotten back to her paws when the loudcage was upon her.

With a bark of pure terror, she tried to leap to freedom and safety, but there was no escape. Storm felt herself engulfed by a great metal maw. She slithered back, whining with terror.

Metal bars were in front of her, and at both her flanks. Something thudded onto her back and she struggled wildly. No! This can’t be happening! The growling of the hungry loudcage filled her ears, throbbed inside her head. It’s eating me!

From somewhere in her addled, terror-stricken brain, a memory came to her. Moon’s urgent voice, barking an instruction to help free Beetle and Thorn: You have to wriggle backward!

Would it work for a ravenous loudcage the way it did for a rope? I have to try!

Desperately she struggled and writhed backward, claws raking the base of the cage, haunches straining. She flattened herself as the cage constricted around her. She kicked back, fighting it, shoving herself with her forepaws now. Her hindclaws found purchase on a hard edge, and she gave a final massive wrench of her muscles, scraping her spine against metal.

She was flung backward into free space and crashed to the earth with an ungainly thump, showering herself in loose soil. I’m out!

There was no time to glory in her escape. Rolling over, scrambling upright, she sprang past a barking longpaw, dodged another that lunged for her, then bolted for the forest and for freedom.