Moon's Choice (5 page)

Moon's muscles still felt as weak
as a pup's, but she grimly kept digging, her claws raking a shallow trench into the soft earth.
I owe it to Pebble. I was lucky, and she wasn't.

I lived, and Pebble didn't.

So many of my Pack didn't live,
she thought with a wrench of grief
. I'm lucky. Because the Sky-Dogs blessed me, and sent Fiery.

The awful heat and the freezing cold were gone from her bones and muscles. The sickness had passed a day or two ago, leaving her feeble but alive. And the same, it seemed, was true for her whole Pack—what was left of it. Mulch and Omega had recovered, just as she had.

But not Pebble.
Moon glanced at the limp body beside the grave, and swallowed hard. The hole Moon, Mulch, and Snap had dug for their Packmate was next to Star's, and close to the places where Alpha and Beta lay. And Fly, too.
At least they'll be together when they
meet the Earth-Dog.

I've lost so much, but what I have left, I owe to Fiery.

She remembered waking that morning, every muscle in her body feeling as if it was made of fragile twigs. But the heat and the sickness and the pain had been gone. It was Fiery who had brought her through the sickness, Fiery who had given her the will to carry on. And it had been Fiery's face she had seen first, his eyes bright with happiness as he realized the danger had passed. He had licked her face, nuzzled her neck, then trotted out into the forest to find her food and fresh water, a spring in his step that she hadn't seen in days.

But when he'd returned, bringing tender chunks of rabbit-haunch and a new bark-segment brimming with spring water—
No more leaves for you, Moon!
—he had sat down solemnly to watch her eat. And when she'd finally satisfied the hunger cravings that gnawed at her thin stomach, he had broken the news.

“I must leave now, Moon,” he'd told her, sorrow in his eyes. “I've neglected my duties to my own Pack for too long . . . I'm sorry.”

She'd wanted to protest, wanted to beg him to stay with her for just one more journey of the Sun-Dog—but she couldn't. She understood now, more than ever, that Pack was everything. Fiery
had done what he could for Moon—
I owe him my life
—but he had responsibilities that he couldn't ignore any longer.

“I'll miss you,” was all she had managed to say.

“I'll come back,” he had promised her gravely. “As soon as I can, I'll return and see how you're doing. You and your Pack, of course,” he'd added hurriedly, looking a little embarrassed.

Moon was eager for him to return.
When he comes,
she thought,
I won't hesitate, I won't waste time. I'll tell Fiery exactly how I feel.
The thought made her ribs shrink with nervousness, but it had to be done.
I need to thank him properly for what he did. Anyway, I can't just let him go, not now.

“All right, Moon.” Snap interrupted her thoughts gently, bringing her back to the terrible present. “We'd better give Pebble to the Earth-Dog.”

Shaking off her reverie, Moon nodded. “Of course.” She sighed. “Poor Pebble. I wish she could have made it, too.”

Respectfully, Mulch licked the mud from his claws before gripping Pebble's body and rolling it toward the hole. Snap hauled on the black dog's scruff, and Moon pushed, and with just a few hard efforts, Pebble's body rolled and tumbled into its grave, landing with a soft thump. Sorrow stabbed Moon's heart yet again as she gazed down at her dead Packmate. Turning away, she began to
scrape soil over the black dog's body.

With her back to the grave, she found she was looking straight at Omega. The little dog sat apart from them, thin and even more wizened than he usually looked. His shoulders were hunched and his eyes were dull and surly. He was still too weak from his illness to help with Pebble's burial, but Moon couldn't help wondering if he was being lazy, too.

I mustn't think that way. We need to learn to live as a Pack again.

Should she be Alpha to the remnants of their once-proud Pack, she wondered? Were there even enough of them left to count as a proper Pack? Four dogs, only three of whom were decent hunters; how could they survive alone?

Though if the half wolf's Pack remains friendly, and if they help us, I think we can manage. . . .

A big shadow moved in the trees beyond the dogs' graves, padding toward them, and Moon felt her heart swell inside her chest. Letting her tongue loll happily, she trotted to meet him, leaving the others to finish burying Pebble. “Fiery!”

His eyes were warm as they rested on her. “Moon. You look so much better!”

She dipped her head shyly. “Fiery, I wanted to say—”

“Listen,” he interrupted urgently, and his gaze grew pained. “I
need to say something first.” He took a breath and averted his eyes slightly, as if afraid to meet hers. “Moon, my Pack is moving on.”

She couldn't help her startled gasp. Why hadn't this possibility occurred to her? A wrench of pain silenced her for a long moment, and Fiery lifted his head to gaze at her again.

“The thing is, Moon . . . I thought . . . if you wanted to, that is . . .” He clenched his jaws determinedly. “I hoped you might want to . . . come with us.”

She licked her chops, lost for words. Her gut was heavy with sadness.
He's leaving. . . . But he wants me to go with him. . . .

“Fiery,” she began, twitching her ears in distress. “I—I can't do it.”

“I wish you would.”

His face was so kind, his eyes so full of affection. But, she thought, he must know deep down that she couldn't.
He forced me to get better. He fought for my life, and he did it by reminding me how much my Pack matters. He wants me to be with him, but he knows that I can't.

“I've promised to lead my Pack, Fiery.” She lowered her head. “I can't abandon them.”

Fiery sighed heavily. “I think I knew that would be your answer, Moon. I know how you feel about your Pack. I know you have a duty to them, and you won't turn your rump on that.” His
expression became rueful. “But I had to ask you, anyway. Do you understand?”

Oh, yes,
she thought.
I understand perfectly, Fiery.
Misery rising in her throat, she met his gaze. “Why do you have to leave?”

“Alpha—my Alpha, that is—he doesn't like staying in a place where there was sickness. He's worried the invisible enemy is still in the air around here, and he thinks staying would be a bad idea. I can't convince him otherwise, I'm sorry.” Fiery's tail tapped the ground in agitation. “He wanted to leave before now, Moon; that's the truth. I asked him to stay, so I could care for you, make sure you recovered.”

“Oh, Fiery. And you did. You were so kind.” She tried to clear the weight in her throat.

“It wasn't really kindness,” he said. “But Moon, now that you're better, I have to obey my Alpha.”

Moon lay down on her forepaws. She didn't think she could stand upright anymore without wobbling. This was such crushing news, and she was weak already. And this further proof of Fiery's kindness and devotion made her almost dizzy. “You asked your whole Pack to stay? Just for me?”

“Just for you, Moon,” he said quietly.

She swallowed hard, trying not to let her voice shake. “I wish
I could repay you, Fiery. I wish I could do what you want. I wish it more than anything, but I can't. My family's gone, and the Pack needs me. This territory—it's all we have left.”

“That's what I was afraid you'd say.” He nuzzled her jaw. “But I do understand.”

Moon sat up on her forepaws, her eyes brightening.
Why didn't I think of it before?
“Fiery, would you consider staying here?” The brashness of her question made her suddenly shy, and she glanced away. “I mean . . . you could stay here. With my Pack, with me. We could lead this Pack, look after them together . . .”

A look of torment crossed the big dog's noble features. “I can't. Oh Moon, I'm sorry, but I can't. You're bound to your Pack—and I'm bound to my Alpha.”

“The half wolf?” Moon closed her jaws on her next words:
But he's so . . . arrogant.

“He found me when I was a pup,” Fiery sighed. “He saved me from a giantfur, and he took me in and cared for me when there was no other dog to do it. I know he seems . . . harsh. But I owe him my life and my loyalty, and I can't abandon him or my Pack. Oh Moon. It seems we're both tied by bonds we can't break.”

Moon swallowed, nodding. Despite her disappointment, Fiery's loyalty to the half wolf stirred her affection for him even
more.
We can't be together. But that's no dog's fault. We both have duties we can't ignore.

He's the dog I was meant to be with, I know that. But it can't happen.
And in a strange way, she loved Fiery even more for it.

“When do you leave?” She could hardly bear to ask.

“Two more journeys of the Sun-Dog, and then we move on,” he told her gently.

She gathered the scraps of her courage. “Will I see you again?”

“We'll pass through your territory on our way,” he assured her with another lick. “I promise I'll see you then. And say good-bye.” He hesitated, then met her eyes, his own full of sadness. “I'll miss you, Moon.”

He turned, his paws heavy as he padded back the way he had come. His head hung low, and as he glanced back once, she saw the longing in his face. Then he vanished into the shadows of the wood.

It's just as well he walked away,
Moon thought. Her heart felt like a stone in her chest, and for long awful moments she couldn't move.
I don't think I could have been the one to walk away from him.

She blinked hard, peering into the darkness of the trees, but he was gone. And after all that had happened, she wasn't sure she could bear this final awful loss.

“You'll never guess who I found
out there.” Snap's voice was full of contempt as she trotted into the clearing, tail lashing.

Moon got to her paws. She'd been expecting to see Snap return from her solitary hunt—with so few dogs in the Pack now, there was no team hunting—but it took her aback to see Snap wasn't alone. There was a dog in the shade behind her, and Moon recognized his burly outline.

Moon's jaw felt loose, and her heartbeat thudded in her throat. He was the last dog she'd ever wanted to see again. Grimly she gritted her teeth and stiffened her shoulders, pacing forward to face him.

“Hunter,” she greeted him coldly.

“Moon.” His tone was airy. “I'm glad to see that a few of my old Pack managed to survive.”

I must not bite him.
Moon held on to her temper. “What brings
you back here?”

“It's as I said. I'm glad to see the four of you escaped the sickness, but you've taken very bad losses, haven't you?”

Moon didn't answer; she only stared at him.

“So,” he went on, “I realized where my duty lay.”

“A bit late,” growled Snap under her breath, but Moon gave her a glance to quiet her.

“And where does your duty lie
this
time?” asked Moon, with heavy sarcasm.

He hunched his shoulders. “With this Pack, obviously. I've returned to lead you.”

Moon looked at Snap, whose jaw was open in disbelief. She stared back at Hunter, but the tilt of his head remained arrogant despite their scorn. “You're serious?”

“Of course I'm serious.” He tapped his tail impatiently. “I'm stronger than all of you, and a better hunter. You'd be fools not to jump at the chance.”

It was lucky, Moon thought, that Mulch arrived back from patrol at just that moment. Otherwise she really might have bitten Hunter.
How I'd love to take off one of his cocky ears,
she thought bitterly. Mulch was staring at Hunter too, now, and there was no expression of welcome in the black dog's eyes.

I wonder if Hunter expected a slightly more enthusiastic reception,
Moon wondered. The thought amused and cheered her, and she managed to take a deep breath and control herself.

“What happened to Rush and Meadow?” she asked.

“Oh, they got sick,” said Hunter casually. “I tried to look after them, but they died anyway.”

Moon was too flabbergasted by his light tone to answer him, but Mulch spoke up, his voice dry as a rabbit-bone left in the sun.

“That's funny,” he growled, and there was an undercurrent of laughter in his tone. “Because guess who I ran into while I was on patrol? Rush and Meadow are looking very well, for ‘dead' dogs. You must have taken better care of them than you thought, Hunter.”

Hunter opened his jaws. “I—”

“In fact,” Mulch interrupted him, “they told me they'd decided to leave
you
. They snuck away in the night because they didn't like being bossed around like pups—and by a dog who's never led a Pack before. I think the words Rush used were . . . let me see . . .
control wolf
.”

For a moment Hunter looked lost for words. He swallowed hard, looking furious and embarrassed. Then he licked his chops and drew himself up.

“Well, Moon,” he said grandly. He'd obviously decided to pretend Mulch didn't exist. “Your parent-dogs always wanted us to lead the Pack together. Their dearest wish was that we should be mates, and I think we should honor that wish. You can be Beta to my Alpha.”

Moon took an angry breath.
Beta to
his
Alpha
? She'd actually been enjoying his obvious discomfort, but now he had riled her beyond belief. Her amusement died, and she felt her hackles rise.

“I value loyalty in a leader,” she growled slowly, choosing her words with care. “I value loyalty in a mate. You've shown none. Of course I won't accept you as my mate, Hunter.” Her voice rose and she almost spat her anger: “I reject you with every part of my dog-spirit.”

His ears tightened against his skull, and Moon caught a glimpse of that vicious light in his eyes, the gleam she'd never noticed when her parent-dogs were alive. “Then you're a fool,” he snarled.

My parent-dogs always thought Hunter would be a strong leader, because he was a strong fighter. But I don't think they would choose him now, if they'd witnessed his behavior. Any Pack deserves better.

Moon stiffened her muscles and lashed her tail, hiding her aching heart behind a frosty coldness. “I may be a fool. But I will
say this: Snap, Mulch, and Omega are my Packmates, and I am their Alpha, but I do not choose for them. It's possible they think I'm a fool too.” She turned to Snap, and nodded. “If you three wish to follow Hunter, I won't try to stop you. He's strong; he's right about that. He'll lead you well.” The strength of her voice faltered slightly as her gaze moved to Mulch, and then to Omega. “I'm not interested in ordering dogs around, and you should all have a say in what happens to this Pack. You must make your own choices. I won't follow Hunter—not if he was the last dog left in the world—but if you want to go with him, I won't try to stop you.”

The three of them glanced at one another, and Moon couldn't help but hold her breath.
Please don't leave,
she found herself begging them inwardly.
I don't want to be the last of my Pack. I don't want to be alone.

But she wouldn't ever say it aloud. She only licked her jaws nervously as Snap stepped forward.

The tan-and-white dog gave Hunter a cool stare. “I too value loyalty in a leader,” she said. “And if my Alpha is true to me, I will give that loyalty back till the day I go to the Earth-Dog.” Snap swept her gaze contemptuously away from Hunter, and looked at Moon with much softer eyes. “I will not follow Hunter, and I won't submit to him. He's proven himself a coward and a betrayer.
You are my Alpha, Moon.”

Mulch sprang forward to Snap's side. He didn't even look at Hunter, but focused his gaze on Moon. “I'm with Snap,” he said. “Everything she says is true. You're my Alpha, Moon. I follow you, and no other dog, not as long as you want me in your Pack.” For the first time he slanted his eyes at Hunter, who was clenching his teeth in fury. “We're better off without this false dog.”

Hunter rose to his four paws, trembling as he glared at the squat little Omega, the last dog to make his choice. Omega twisted his already wrinkled muzzle, and his pink tongue darted out to lick his ugly jaws. He looked very uncomfortable—and no wonder, thought Moon, when Hunter was several times bigger than him—but he spoke firmly.

“How could I trust Hunter?” he whined. Backing away from Hunter's furious eyes, he tucked his tail between his legs, and went on stubbornly. “I couldn't trust you ever again. You'd abandon me in the flash of a rabbit tail. I'm staying with Moon.”

Moon closed her eyes briefly, feeling a wave of relief and gratitude wash over her. But as Hunter growled, she opened her eyes again and met his gaze steadily.

“You're pathetic,” he snarled at her. “Choices? Omegas don't make choices! Hunt-dogs and Patrol Dogs don't vote for their
leaders! Your Pack's mine for the taking. It's my right! Your Father-Dog gave me that right. He chose me to be Alpha!”

“He did not,” barked Moon, her fur bristling with anger now. “And if he'd seen how you've behaved, how you let down this Pack, you'd be lucky if he made you his Omega! Alphas don't run away from danger. They stay where they are and protect their Pack!”

“Your Father-Dog wished for
me
—”

“Don't you dare!” Hunter's twisting of her Father-Dog's wishes finally broke Moon's fragile self-control. She lunged for him, jaws wide and lips peeled back from her fangs, and had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch away. He dodged her attack, but Snap and Mulch flew at him from each side, snapping at his flanks, barking their fury.

Hunter twisted and ducked, barking once in fright. Then, abruptly, he bunched his muscles and leaped past Snap, fleeing for the trees with his tail clamped between his legs. Moon's teeth closed with a clash, just shy of his rump, but he gave a startled yelp anyway. Even Omega was prancing behind them, watching from safety but urging them on with high-pitched barks, and Snap and Mulch harried Hunter all the way into the trees.

Moon skidded to a halt as they chased the traitor off. Her blood was pounding and her chest heaving, but nothing had given
her so much satisfaction in a long time as the sight of Hunter's fleeing hindquarters. Undergrowth crashed and branches snapped as the panicked dog dived for cover and vanished.

Moon watched Snap and Mulch trot back, eyes shining with glee. She let her tongue loll with merriment. Between Snap's teeth was a ragged clump of gray-brown rump fur.