The Broken Path, Page 3

  Wild with pain and fury, Lucky turned savagely on the badger, snapping his jaws shut on its neck. He shook it violently and dropped it, a limp and sodden bundle.

  “It’s dead, Lucky!” panted Bella. She was crouched low to the ground, trembling.

  “Bella. Are you all right?” Lucky panted hard and sniffed anxiously at her side.

  “I’m fine.” His litter-sister staggered to her feet, shaking off the clinging wetness. “But you’re hurt!”

  Already the burning rain had slackened to intermittent drops and a few black flakes whirling in the cold wind, but the wound in Lucky’s side was still on fire. He nosed it and tried to lick it, but shuddered at the acrid taste and the touch of ash on his tongue.

  “I’m fine,” he told Bella. “It’s only a scratch. But the rain stings.”

  Lucky lifted his head to watch the purplish-black cloud drift away, the drenching torrent now a smear of shadow across the far hills. The Pack hadn’t escaped the bad rain, then—one more reason they needed to keep moving. They had to get far away from whatever was poisoning the land. Their new camp on this side of the white ridge was no safer than the others. Ever since the Big Growl had destroyed the city and their homes, the dogs had had to keep moving, form new packs with half wolves, fight off Fierce Dogs . . .

  When will it all end? Lucky wondered.

  He thought of Twitch, the lame dog who had left the Pack. Lucky had always thought of himself as a solitary dog, but it was Twitch who had struck out alone, feeling rejected by his own Pack. How was he surviving in these terrible times?

  “You saved me,” murmured Bella. “Thank you.”

  Lucky licked his chops, and shook himself again. He had to cling on to hope, in the face of all these changes. “Perhaps the Sky-Dogs are telling us that life’s too fragile these days to hold a grudge.”

  Bella shuffled forward on her forepaws. He nuzzled her neck. Lick was right—they were fortunate to have each other. Whatever Bella’s faults, however angry he was, he couldn’t hold it against her.

  “Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get back to the camp. We should tell the others what just happened. And there’s a ceremony to be held.”

  “We’re already late,” agreed Bella, trotting at his side as he set off back up the sandbank. “I hope Alpha understands about badgers.”

  “Whether he does or not, I need to speak to him,” muttered Lucky, half to himself. “There are a lot of decisions to be made.” He and Bella picked up his rabbits between them, and then set off.

  The Sun-Dog beyond the hills lit their way with a last few darkly glowing rays as they picked a path through the gloomy twilight. At the very edge of the trees, Lucky halted and sniffed the air, startled.

  “That’s a pup’s scent,” he said, pricking his ears and scanning the glade. “Can you smell it, Bella?”

  Her nostrils flared. “You’re right. And it’s fresh. So soon after that rainstorm?”

  Lucky nodded. “Whoever it was, they’ve only just passed by.”

  “Is it Lick?” Bella sounded doubtful.

  “No. I know her scent well, and this isn’t it.” Lucky creased his eyes in confusion. “I don’t think it’s a pup from our Pack at all.”

  “There she is, though.” Bella pricked her ears at the young Fierce Dog, waiting anxiously for them at the edge of the camp.

  “What are you doing out here?” Lucky asked as they padded over.

  “I was worried.” Lick bounded forward in greeting. “I had to come back and make sure you were okay.”

  “We were fine,” Lucky told her. “It was just a visit from Lightning.” But Lick was whimpering with anxiety.

  “There wasn’t anything else?” she asked, her gaze roaming the forest and the jutting rocks. “You didn’t see any other creatures?”

  “Only a huge badger!” Bella said, her bark full of pretend bravado. “But we defeated him. Didn’t we, Lucky?”

  Lucky didn’t know which was more confusing—Bella’s sudden show of confidence or Lick’s behavior. How could the young dog have possibly known they might have encountered another animal, and why couldn’t she tear her glance from the land behind them?

  Lucky nuzzled her ear as the three of them walked on into the camp. “I caught a scent out there,” he told Lick, watching carefully for her reaction. “A pup has passed by, very recently. A strange one, not from the Pack. Did you see it?”

  “No. What would a strange pup be doing around here?” The muscles of Lick’s face twitched, and she licked her chops. Lucky frowned, but she avoided his gaze. “Oh, I think Spring wants me!” She shot off toward a small group of dogs relaxing under a bush.

  Lucky hesitated, staring after her. He hadn’t heard Spring call Lick—he couldn’t even see her black-and-tan hide in the huddle of dogs into which Lick had vanished.

  Remembering that strange pup-scent, his neck prickled. Lick had been in a mighty hurry to get away from his questions.

  Something’s going on, he thought. And I intend to find out what it is.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “What took so long?”

  Lucky twisted to meet the piercing yellow eyes of Alpha, watching him with hostile curiosity. Drawing a deep breath, Lucky padded across to the half wolf, who sprawled on a small hillock where the last light lingered, away from the rest of the dogs, who were gathered in small groups around their dens. Already frost touched the air in the camp, and tendrils of mist crept through the grass where the shadows lengthened. Lucky shivered.

  “Well?” Alpha’s voice was a low growl. “Fiery returned long ago with the white rabbit. Where were you?”

  “I’m sorry I was delayed, Alpha.” Lucky kept his words calm and measured. “I stopped to speak to Bella. We had things to . . . discuss. And I should tell you I scented something—”

  “Enough!” snarled Alpha, rising suddenly to all fours. “Didn’t I make it clear enough to you, Street Dog? No dog should take risks beyond the camp. That includes lingering and gossiping beyond the perimeter while the Pack waits for you!”

  Lucky bristled. “It was nothing like that—”

  “Why do you isolate yourself when we both know Blade’s Pack is out there? They are hunting us, Lucky, and unless we keep on our paw-tips and moving, they will track us down.” Alpha’s eyes widened suddenly as he caught sight of the wound in Lucky’s side. “What happened? Were you attacked? If this is Blade’s doing, I’ll—” The huge dog-wolf stiffened and snarled.

  “No!” Lucky barked hurriedly, then dipped his head in apology. “No, Alpha, it wasn’t Blade. She was nowhere in sight. It was a badger, that’s all.”

  Alpha’s muzzle curled. “You were distracted by a badger? Pathetic. A stupid skirmish!”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Lucky told him firmly. “And something much more worrying happened. The rain came again—the bad rain.”

  Alpha raised his ears. “You’re sure? We didn’t see any bad rain.”

  “It blew away, but I saw the black flakes, and I felt it burn this wound. We haven’t outdistanced it.”

  For the first time, Alpha looked uncertain, and his hackles flattened as his anger faded. “So we have to move on again,” he growled, half to himself. Then his eyes flashed gold. “But not until after the Naming. Nothing will stop that.”

  As if they had heard their leader’s words, Squirm and Nose came bounding over, skidding to a halt in a flurry of leaves. They seemed to have forgotten their awe of the ferocious dog-wolf, and their high barks brimmed with excitement. “Alpha, is it time yet? Is it?”

  Behind them Lucky noticed Lick, trotting hesitantly in their wake. Her ears were pricked and her eyes hopeful; it hurt Lucky’s heart to see how eager she looked.

  No, he thought, there’ll be no Naming Ceremony for you tonight, Lick. Not only was she younger than Fiery and Moon’s two pups, Lick was also a Fierce Dog—and every dog knew that Alpha could barely stand to have one of them, however young and small, in his Pack. Not only would there be no
Naming for Lick tonight, there might never be one at all. Unless I can help.

  But he couldn’t think how. And now Sweet, the swift-dog Beta, was calling the Pack together with her commanding barks. All around the camp dogs leaped to their feet, the Leashed Dogs as eager as their wild comrades. The gentle Farm Dog Mickey loped forward with Snap, and burly Bruno joined the black-and-tan hunt-dog Spring in the center of the glade, obviously keen to be at her side.

  Though the former Leashed Pack still liked one another’s company best—and no doubt sometimes reminisced together about their lost longpaws—Lucky was glad that they were so at ease with the Wild Pack. Dart, the black-and-tan hunt-dog, continued to keep herself a little aloof from them, but she was amiable enough. No dog, Leashed or Wild, really liked the snub-nosed Whine, but Sunshine was content to trot at his side, yapping friendly comments. Martha the water-dog chatted affectionately to the much wilder Moon, bonded by their shared maternal instincts; little Daisy bounded up to Fiery and yapped a greeting, not at all intimidated by his size. My Leashed friends are truly fitting in with this Pack, thought Lucky happily.

  The Pack members trotted toward the prey-heap; no languid stretching or easy ambling this evening. Every dog was always eager for food-sharing time, but there was a special tingle in the air tonight. The Moon-Dog in her fullness hadn’t quite risen over the horizon yet, but the Pack was eagerly anticipating the moment, their ears pricked and their eyes bright. Tails wagged, tongues lolled, and Lucky could smell the excitement.

  And I feel the same, thought Lucky, though I do feel sorry for Lick. I want to see what happens!

  Even the sharing of the prey felt different tonight—strict discipline was almost forgotten in the mood of excited celebration. Dogs talked and barked over one another, only occasionally quieted by a warning glance or a growl from Sweet. Alpha, oddly enough, seemed content to tolerate a little misbehavior, simply watching with narrowed yellow eyes.

  “Spring, it’s not your turn!”

  “Sorry, Beta!” yelped the black-and-tan dog. “Whine, hey! That doesn’t mean you can sneak in.”

  “Quite.” There was a note of humor in Dart’s growl. “You’re not exactly Alpha yet, Whine.”

  “When will the Moon-Dog wake up?” That was Nose, almost beside herself with anticipation. Her tail lashed so frantically, she swiped Squirm’s face.

  “Not long now, Nose. Have patience!” But there was amusement in Sweet’s stern bark.

  “And don’t touch the food before Beta has finished,” growled Alpha, swiping a paw at the pup. But the blow was light, and barely ruffled Nose’s fur.

  The Naming must be a very big occasion, Lucky realized, if even Alpha is relaxed about the rules tonight.

  One by one, the dogs ate their fill, though excitement seemed to have blunted all their appetites. Lucky himself ate less than usual, eager to begin the ceremony. He glanced up as a big shadow settled over him. It was Martha, the huge water-dog, and she looked as curious and perplexed as he felt. She stretched out one webbed paw and nibbled at her claws.

  “I don’t really understand all this,” she murmured to Lucky. “Why is it such a big deal? I never had a Naming Ceremony. And neither did my littermates. But we still have names!”

  “I was wondering that too,” said Daisy wistfully. The little white terrier squeezed between Lucky and Martha, and Lucky noticed Sunshine creeping in on his left flank. Clearly the old Leashed Dogs were looking to him for some kind of explanation. They lived such protected lives with their longpaws, Lucky reminded himself. I still forget sometimes how little they know, even now.

  “Fiery explained some of it to me,” Lucky told them. “I know they have to choose their own names—it’s not like when the longpaws gave yours to you. As soon as a dog grows teeth at the back of his jaws, he’s allowed to choose the name he’ll carry. And it has to be one that fits.”

  Sunshine cocked her head, her silky fur gleaming in the moonlight. She’d had to be even more patient than the others, Lucky knew—she was Omega now, and that meant she was always last to eat. He was glad the little dog didn’t seem to mind too much, and tonight she’d been left half of a big and juicy rabbit at the end of the meal. Clearly every dog was to be encouraged to celebrate.

  “I’m glad I didn’t have to go through a Naming Ceremony,” Sunshine yapped softly. “It all seems terribly serious. And I like the name my longpaws gave me. I think it suits me just fine, and better than anything I’d have chosen.”

  “Your name does suit you, Sunshine.” Lucky was amused. Would Sunshine ever realize she didn’t have “her” longpaws anymore—that she belonged with the Pack?

  Still, she wasn’t the spoiled little lapdog she had once been. And Sunshine would probably go on calling them “her” longpaws until the day she went to the Earth-Dog. It seemed to be a very hard habit for the little dog to break.

  “Bring the white rabbit!” Alpha’s bark cut across Lucky’s thoughts, and every dog sat up straighter.

  “That’s my job!” Sunshine whirled around and dashed to join Whine, excited at her important role. In only moments the two little dogs—the former Omega and the new one—had emerged from the undergrowth, bearing the carcass of the white rabbit between them in their teeth. With great care they laid it on the flat rock in front of Alpha. As they both turned away, Sunshine holding her tail proudly high, Lucky couldn’t miss the look Whine threw him. There was an expression of loathing on the snub-nosed dog’s petulant face.

  “What’s up with him?” whispered Lick, creeping to Lucky’s side.

  “Quiet,” Lucky warned her. “The ceremony is beginning.” Besides, he didn’t want to start explaining the former Omega’s resentment. Even though the nasty little dog had risen in the ranks as he’d longed to, Whine was clearly still unhappy with Lucky.

  But that’s his problem, not mine.

  Alpha must have noticed Whine’s look, though, because the dog-wolf glared at him. “Whine! Sunshine! Your work is done. Get to the back of the Pack.”

  Sunshine obeyed at once, content to know her place. But Whine’s muzzle curled over his teeth, and his left eye twitched. There’s a dog, thought Lucky, who wants to fight but is too scared.

  Whine wore a look of angry humiliation as he slunk through the ranks of watching dogs. This time, he avoided Lucky’s eye.

  Could he still be trouble? Lucky shook off the thought and concentrated on Alpha, and on Sweet. The swift-dog looked solemn and graceful beside her leader.

  Alpha took a pace forward to stand before the pale corpse of the rabbit. “Snap. Spring. Come forward.”

  The two dogs clearly knew what was expected of them, each placing their forepaws on the rabbit: Spring on its front legs, Snap on its long hind legs. Alpha laid one of his huge paws on its head, crushing it down, then raised his other paw high above the corpse. His paw swooped down, and with precision, he dug a claw into the rabbit’s throat. Slicing the rabbit open from throat to belly, he bared his fangs and sank them with a crunching noise into its neck.

  There was a soft ripping sound as Alpha tore the pelt free in a single intact piece, and then slapped the white fur down on the rock. Sweet stepped forward, seized the carcass, and tossed it aside. Lucky swallowed. He had never seen a rabbit skinned with such precision; it seemed unnatural in contrast to the hungry rip-and-chew of feeding.

  Lucky realized the whole Pack was holding its collective breath. On the gray slab, the bloodied white fur gleamed ghostly in the light of the risen Moon-Dog.

  “Squirm. Nose.” Alpha’s growl was commanding as ever, but proud too. “Take your places on the Moon Pelt.”

  The two pups trod nervously forward; Lucky noticed that they were both trembling. First Nose and then Squirm hopped up onto the rock, turned, and sat down stiffly on the white fur. Nose sniffed at it anxiously.

  “There’s nothing to worry about, young ones,” murmured Alpha. Lucky had never heard the half wolf sound so gentle. “The time has come for you to choose the names you wil
l carry until you meet the Earth-Dog. So close your eyes, and turn your faces to the Moon-Dog. Now that she is at her brightest, she will show you who you are.”

  Alpha gazed around the watching, silent Pack. He met each pair of reverential eyes; then slowly he tipped his head back and released a ringing howl to the night sky.

  One by one, the dogs joined in. Every voice added to the eerie, echoing sound, rebounding from the rocky cliffs and filling the woods and the gorge. When it was Lucky’s turn, he gave a howl that seemed to come from his heart and guts and bones, yet he was filled too with the howls of the others. It was as if all the voices merged and swelled until they were a great single presence in the night.

  Lucky’s skin tightened and his fur prickled as the howl surged over him like a wave, drowning all thought. The Great Howl was the moment when he was always most certain of his place in the Pack, of the rightness of it; tonight the sense of belonging felt stronger than ever. He opened his eyes to take in the full silver glow of the Moon-Dog, but as he watched, a thin cloud drifted across her face, and a shiver ran through the Pack from one dog to the next. The whole Pack was in shadow now—all but the pups Nose and Squirm. The pale light still bathed them where they sat frozen in awe on the white rabbit fur.

  Beside Lucky, Daisy shivered as a thrill ran through her. “It’s as if the Moon-Dog knows,” she whispered.

  Lucky didn’t shush her. He was thinking the same thing. Many times, when he’d wanted a peaceful night’s sleep, he’d sent a prayer to the Moon-Dog to protect him, but it had felt like nothing more than wishful thinking: How could the Moon-Dog hear what he said? Tonight he truly believed she heard this Howl, and understood its special importance.

  “I think you’re right, Daisy,” he murmured.

  The Howl quieted, then faded altogether, dying to a charged silence. Alpha lowered his head to gaze at the pups again.

  “What are your chosen names?” he growled softly but clearly.

  Squirm’s eyes were closed, but now he snapped them open; they glowed in the silver light. “I will be . . .” He paused. Something was moving on the side of the rock, a quick shadow that scuttled into a crack and vanished. Squirm’s voice grew loud and certain. “I will be Beetle,” he declared. “Fast, and hard to see! But my hide is tough and strong!”