A Pack Divided (6 page)

Light and sound finally penetrated Storm's
restless sleep. Blinking painfully, she curled into a tighter ball, trying to sink back into unawareness, but it was useless. A damp nose nudged her flank and a friendly voice teased her.

“Are you ever going to get up, young Storm?”

She kept her eyes shut tight. The affectionate growl was Mickey's, but she couldn't face even the kind Farm Dog. Focusing on making the rise and fall of her flanks regular and slow, she heard his gruff, fond laughter.

“Lazy pup, I know you're not asleep.” He nuzzled her. “All right, stay there for a bit.”

I really need to,
she thought guiltily.
It's tiring going for walks in the night. Walks I don't even remember . . .

It was impossible to go back to sleep now, though. Through
the underbrush she could hear the low voices of dogs arguing. Again! What was it now?

Probably the same thing
, she realized with a heavy sigh. The voices belonged to, among others, Thorn and Breeze, so no doubt it was another quarrel about the patrol dogs failing to respect Moon's orders.

It all seemed so very ordinary, so everyday compared to last night. Her frantic dash-and-stumble back to camp in the darkness was like a vague and distant memory now; she could even convince herself it hadn't been real. Except that she remembered vividly the terror she'd felt, running blindly, convinced that the Fear-Dog was stalking her, that at any moment she'd feel his red claws in her hide. She'd have sworn she could hear the echoing thud of his paws on the earth as he hunted her down.

It had been easy enough to sneak past Daisy and Dart, who had been on night patrol, but she couldn't help the bite of worry in her gut. If this was going to happen again, she couldn't rely on every dog being unwary. Sooner or later one of the Pack would catch her as she tried to creep back into the camp. What if the dreams never left her in peace?

It's not something I want to have to explain to any dog.

There were other voices around her; she could hear them
clearly with her eyes shut. Lucky and Alpha were murmuring to each other. It was a much more friendly, reassuring sound than the argument. She felt safer with her Alpha and her Beta watching over the Pack—at least while the Sun-Dog shone overhead.

Night could be a different nest of rats. But I can't worry about that just now.

“My Mother-Dog used to tell me stories of the Spirit Dogs,” Lucky was telling Alpha, his rumbling voice fond. “Stories about Lightning, and the Forest-Dog, and the Sky-Dogs. Did your Mother-Dog tell you about the Wind-Dogs?”

“She did, Lucky.” Storm heard Alpha's small grunt as she rolled over in the grass and wriggled into a more comfortable position. “She told us a Wind-Dog story every night.”

“And what stories will you tell our pups, Sweet?” There was lazy amusement in Lucky's voice.

“I'll tell them about all the Spirit Dogs, yours and mine.” Alpha laughed. “And so will you, I expect.”

Storm felt a pang of envy. Her own Mother-Dog had never had the chance to tell her any stories.

“I'll tell you one of my Mother-Dog's stories, shall I?” murmured Alpha.

“Go on.” Lucky sounded more alert. Storm could visualize his ears pricking up, the light of interest sparking in his brown eyes.

“All right.” Alpha sighed contentedly. “Long ago, Lucky, at the time of the First Dogs, it's said that the Sun-Dog never slept at all.”

“What, never?” Lucky had made his voice as innocent as a pup's, and Alpha huffed a laugh.

“Never. The Sun-Dog was too possessive of the sky, you see. He liked to run and play and bask in that great blue field all the time. The Sky-Dogs tried to persuade him to rest, and to give the Moon-Dog a chance to run and hunt, but he wouldn't listen. He ordered the Sky-Dogs to go away, because he had more power than they did, and he said he would never yield his place to the Moon-Dog.”

“Bossy old Sun-Dog,” growled Lucky, a grin in his gruff voice. “But I expect the First Dogs liked being able to hunt all day.”

“Oh, no, they did not! The First Dogs were always tired, because they couldn't sleep in the light of the Sun-Dog. And the Moon-Dog felt sorry for them. She has always looked after dogs, and given them peace to howl and love and rest and sleep, so that they needn't always be hunting.

“So she set off to speak to the Wind-Dogs. She knew they too loved dogs. Ever since Earth-Dog was born and the world came to be, the Wind-Dogs have loved to play with dogs, chasing
and racing them, and the dogs have loved the Wind-Dogs back. And the Wind-Dogs, of course, loved the swift-dogs best of all. Because only swift-dogs could really keep up with them.”

“Hmph,” grunted Lucky, but he gave a sigh of contentment.

“So the Moon-Dog asked the Wind-Dogs to chase away the Sun-Dog, and after a long struggle, they did. Now Moon-Dog could look over the world eternally, and the First Dogs could have peace and rest.”

“Well, that was good, then.” Lucky was back in his mock pup-voice.

“It certainly wasn't, young dog!” Alpha was really playing up the role of Mother-Dog, thought Storm sleepily. “The First Dogs could never hunt, you see, and they grew hungry! They slept all the time, but were never warm, because the sky was forever cold.

“So the Sun-Dog and the Moon-Dog and the Wind-Dogs at last came together to make a pact. The Wind-Dogs agreed to let Sun-Dog run for half the day, so long as he went to his rest and let the Moon-Dog take the other half. So from that day on, Sun-Dog and Moon-Dog shared the sky, and the true lives of dogs could begin—hunting in the daytime, and resting in the night.”

As the two older dogs fell quiet again, Storm found she was drowsy after all. Listening to her Alpha, she had felt like a pup
again. But she would have had better questions than Lucky. . . .

Why would the powerful Sun-Dog run from the Wind-Dogs, Alpha? The strongest dog is always the one who gives orders. That's how it should be. . . .

She had almost drifted back into a doze when violent barking shattered her peace and sent her jumping to her paws. She squeezed out of her den and shook off the fuzzy drowsiness. There was no point pretending to sleep anymore.

Her eyes fell on Sunshine as the little Omega scrambled to her paws nearby. The small dog's black button-eyes looked anxious and fearful. Poor Sunshine tried so hard to be a Wild Dog, but her fluffy little body was not as well suited to the wilderness as the other dogs'. Storm gave her a reassuring whine and licked her nose.

“What's going on?” whimpered the Omega. “Why is there more fighting?”

“It's just the patrol dogs squabbling again,” Storm told Sunshine with a sigh. She felt more annoyed with them for upsetting Sunshine than for disturbing her own sleep.

“Don't you dare think you can take over,” came Thorn's snarling voice. “You left this Pack, Twitch! You went off to find another one, a
mad
Pack. Just because you came back to fight the Fierce Dogs, it doesn't mean you're in charge now.”

A dog brushed past Storm's shoulder on his way toward the quarreling dogs, and her ears pricked when she saw it was Lucky.
He'll sort them out
, she thought grimly, and followed him.

“What's going on?” their golden-furred Beta demanded.

Thorn's head snapped around, and her eyes widened. “Beta!” She licked her jaws, then clenched her fangs, and sat on her haunches. Her voice grew stronger and clearer. “I want to make a challenge. I'm challenging Twitch!”

Storm took a breath with shock, looking from Twitch to Thorn. “That's not fair!”

Thorn stepped one aggressive pace toward her. “Why not? It's Pack law!”

Storm looked around at the other dogs. She licked her chops and swallowed. “I know that. And it's true that any dog can challenge another, anytime—but Thorn, you're young and fast. I've practice-fought you often, and I know you're strong.” Storm took a nervous breath, knowing every eye was on her. She wished some dog would speak up in support of her, but there was only silence. “How can Twitch possibly fight you, Thorn?”

Twitch, after all, had only three legs, and he wasn't a true fighter. He'd become his own Pack's Alpha for his guile and intelligence, not for his strength or fighting ability.
Does Thorn really plan
to take his place as head patrol dog?
It didn't seem right to Storm, and she was sure Lucky would agree.

“
I challenge Twitch
,” said Thorn again defiantly, ignoring Storm and staring at her Beta.

Lucky glanced uncertainly at Alpha. The swift-dog hesitated for only a moment; then Storm saw her slim head move in a tiny nod.

They're going to let this happen!
Storm's jaw loosened with shock.

Lucky took two paces into the center of the glade, and turned to gaze around at the gathering Pack. He placed his two forepaws on a low rocky outcrop. Dogs from every corner of the camp were padding curiously forward, cocking their ears, growling questions to one another.

“Thorn the patrol dog,” declared Lucky in a ringing bark, “challenges Twitch the lead patrol dog.”

With that he stepped back from his rock, turned, and walked back to join the circle of watching dogs. Alpha paced silently to his side, and nodded to the two challengers.

Slowly Thorn circled Twitch, who eyed her warily as he turned. Already he was off balance, Storm realized. Thorn's tactic of constant motion was clever, disturbing the poise of her three-legged opponent.

“I'm fighting for my Mother-Dog,” barked Thorn, pausing in her pacing to glare at Twitch. “I'm fighting for her place—to prove
he
can't steal it.”

“Wait,” growled Storm, her hackles rising. “Is that allowed? Can Thorn even do that—fight for
Moon
to be top patrol dog?”

Lucky glanced at Alpha, but neither of them responded.

Storm clenched her jaws.
What's going on? Thorn's going to humiliate Twitch for no reason other than pride—hers and her Mother-Dog's!
It seemed so stupid and unnecessary, and Storm laid her ears back with anger.

“Beta!” she barked.

Lucky shook his head slowly. He wasn't even looking at Storm; he was watching Moon, steadily and expectantly.

He thinks Moon's going to put a stop to this. But she won't!
And indeed, Moon only stared at her pup and at Twitch, and stayed silent.

“It's all right, Storm.” Twitch's husky growl was perfectly calm. “I accept Thorn's challenge.”

“Wait!” A low, aggressive bark rang out across the clearing. “If Thorn can fight for Moon, then any other dog can fight for Twitch!”

Storm glanced at Lucky, who was silenced by surprise. Alpha
herself looked startled. They both turned to the dog who had spoken: Breeze.

Storm felt her heart swell in her chest, and her blood race through her muscles.
Of course—Breeze is talking sense! I can beat Thorn for Twitch—and that's as fair as anything about this challenge!
She took three paces forward and raised her head to speak.

“I'll do it.” Another dog stepped into the circle before Storm could draw breath to offer. He had a mottled brown-and-cream coat marked by the scars of many battles; he was one of Terror's former Pack.

“Woody?” said Lucky, his tail twitching. He looked, thought Storm, as if he didn't like how things were going.

“Yes. I'll fight for Twitch.” The tough hunt-dog swung his head to eye Thorn and Moon. “You have your champion, Moon; now Twitch has his. That makes this a more equal contest. Do you agree, Alpha?”

The swift-dog dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I do agree.” She and Lucky shared a resigned sigh.

Storm felt a prickle of guilty pleasure in her fur. Woody was a lot bigger than Thorn, and he had much more fighting experience; she remembered very well how skillfully and fiercely he'd
fought in the Storm of Dogs. Thorn, as far as Storm was concerned, deserved a good beating for her unjust challenge. She pricked her ears and watched with a new sense of hope, as Woody clawed the earth aggressively.

Alpha still seemed hesitant; this kind of conflict, Storm knew, was not what the swift-dog would want for her Pack. But Alpha spoke firmly.

“Thorn, you issued the challenge. You may withdraw it if you wish, and without shame, but it is your choice.”

Thorn didn't tear her gaze from the burly form of Woody. All she did was stiffen her shoulder muscles and inhale a deep, determined breath.

“No,” she said. “I won't withdraw. I'll fight Woody.”

Tension hummed in the still air of the clearing as the dogs formed a circle around the two challengers. Storm found she could hardly breathe; Thorn might be of her original Pack, but she very badly wanted Woody to win this fight.

It was Thorn who made the first move, hurling herself at Woody in a full-on charge at his throat, as if she hoped to end the fight before it had really begun.
I taught her that move
, Storm realized, her neck fur bristling with resentment.