Sweet's Journey (4 page)

“Thanks,” she told him, dipping her muzzle to drink. The water was cold and clear and pure, and it tasted of the earth and the forest. Sweet shivered as she remembered the sick river she'd had to cross, and she closed her eyes briefly to thank the River-Dog for bringing her to better water. She drank for a long time, reminded suddenly of how thirsty she was.

“I wish you good luck,” growled Fiery, gazing across to the distant forest beyond the lake. “I hope you do find a few of your Pack. It's been a bad time for all dogs.”

“Thank you,” said Sweet. She licked her chops and padded carefully into the water, cooling her paws. “I have to hope some of them survived.”

The big dog nodded slowly. “Our Pack lost a few dogs in the Big Growl too. I'm sorry we couldn't be more welcoming, but every dog is afraid. Who knows if the bad times are over?”

Sweet turned her head to watch his eyes, and when she saw the fear in them, her own anxiety sparked into new life. If a dog so powerful could still fear the Big Growl's return, what hope was there for a fragile swift-dog? She shivered.

“I hope the bad days
are
over,” she told him softly. “But I don't think any dog can trust that they are.”

Sweet was stunned at the chaos
she found beyond the half wolf's territory. She and her Pack had lived in what she'd thought was
the wild
, but here in the more remote forest it was as if all the order of the world had been destroyed, as if the Spirit Dogs had abandoned the land to ruin. Mighty trees had toppled like saplings, their branches broken and the leaves stripped and scattered. Great rips had been opened in the earth, ragged and yawning, and massive rocks had tumbled loose from their sockets, crushing plants and creatures alike. There were signs of scorching, as if Lightning had leaped to the earth over and over again in a panic, and some stretches of ground were charred wastelands.

Sweet's nostrils flared in dismay. There were so many small corpses crushed here, so much carrion, even the crows couldn't keep up. Fat and sleek—unlike the other forest creatures—they hopped and strutted and flapped onto fallen branches, cocking
their black heads arrogantly to watch her pass.

Earth-Dog, were you really so angry with us all? You haven't even consumed the dead. . . .

Sweet was glad to leave the low-lying, destroyed land, to feel the ground begin to rise beneath her paws once more, and as the trees thinned she felt a new urgency and energy. She bounded up the last slope to the crest of a sparsely treed ridge, and gazed out across open country, letting the stiff breeze bring its many scents to her nostrils.

But there were no dog-scents she could trace. Sweet's ears lowered in disappointment. There was nothing but the smell of the forest, and the distant reek of the sick river, reaching even as far as this. There was certainly no sign of land she recognized from her Pack's former camp.

The longpaws must have taken us far from our home when they caught us
, she realized miserably.
I've no idea where to go from here. I've no idea if there's a home left that's worth finding
.

A ball of rage swelled in her gut, and Sweet gave in to it. Lifting her narrow head, she gave a furious bark.

“Why, Sky-Dogs? Why did you do this to us? Earth-Dog, what did we do wrong?”

Of course there was no answer, only the moan of the wind in
the trees and the heedless song of birds.

“If I understood, I might feel better!” she howled.

Silence. Sweet sat back on her haunches, tucking her tail tightly beneath her, and stared out at the distant hills, and the amber glow of the drowsy Sun-Dog as he settled for the night.

If I wasn't alone, it wouldn't be so bad. Lucky, why did you have to be so stubborn?

She missed the City Dog more and more, with a deep keen ache. It was odd, when she'd known him for such a short time, but he'd been strong when she needed him. And clever, and funny, and kind.

And stupid! With all his Lone Dog nonsense!

She gave a sharp bark of irritation, then a soft unhappy whine; then at last she got to her paws and shook herself. Whatever she thought of Lucky's foolish notions, she had to follow his example. She was a Lone Dog for now, whether she wanted to be or not. So it was time to be strong, and look after herself.

The Moon-Dog was rising, clearer now that the Sun-Dog's light was dying, and the sky ahead was darkest blue.
I need to get going. I'll survive this, all of it
.

But where will I go?

The Moon-Dog's eye was full and round and white, huge
against the twinkling stars. Sweet took a breath suddenly, cocking an ear, straining to listen.

Yes. Drifting on the light wind from far away, rising and falling, she could hear the echoing voices of a Pack singing to the Moon-Dog.
A Great Howl
, she thought, and longing tugged at her heart.

She remembered her own Pack's Howls, that sense of being
one
despite their petty daytime squabbles, the strong blood call of kinship and loyalty. She remembered how the real world seemed to fall away as they lifted their voices to the night, how she could sense the Wind-Dogs racing between them all, dodging and flying and howling with joy. She'd felt as if she herself was running, too, though she sat motionless among her friends, as if the Wind-Dogs were as one with all of them. Was that how other dogs felt?
I want to Howl again
, she thought.
I want to be one with a Pack. . . .

The eerie distant howling thrilled into her blood, filling her with a new determination. She thought she recognized one of those voices, or perhaps two. That deep intent baying; was it Fiery? And that wild cry that spoke of wilderness and loss . . .
Yes
, thought Sweet. It was the half wolf and his Pack; she was sure of it.

I told them I wouldn't return, but I also said I wouldn't be a burden. And I won't! I'll
earn
my way into their Pack
.

A little way down the slope, a rustling in the grass made her ears prick forward, and her body tensed. A rabbit! She licked her chops as saliva pooled in her mouth.

No dog could easily catch a rabbit alone. No
ordinary
dog. So no Alpha could fail to be impressed by a dog who could. Rabbits were so quick, so nimble, so very much faster than dogs. . . .

But not as fast as me
.

The night was paling into dawn again by the time Sweet padded back into the Wild Pack territory. Her fur bristled with nerves, but her head was held high and proud, and between her jaws hung a sleek, plump rabbit.

“What in the name of the Sky-Dogs—” The deep powerful bark was full of shock, but Sweet didn't flinch. She recognized Fiery's voice, and for all his size he was a fair dog. He wouldn't kill her. Not outright, not straightaway.

Dogs were gathering around her now, some snarling, some stunned into silence, some exchanging glances of disbelief. The red Beta barged forward, butting smaller dogs aside.

“What are you doing back here, Bony Dog?” Her voice was filled with contempt. “You've just made a big mistake. And your last!”

“Wait, Beta.” Fiery shoved easily through to her side, the smaller dogs moving hurriedly out of his way. “Look, she's caught a rabbit. By herself.”

“That's pretty impressive.” The white-and-tan dog nodded reluctantly.

“I'm certainly impressed,” said a black-and-white dog who was fat with puppies. She leaned against Fiery's flank. “We could use her, Beta. There'll be more mouths to feed soon.”

The red dog turned on them all, snarling. “Which means we don't need another! Our Pack has all the dogs it needs!”

“That,” said a commanding voice, “is not your decision.”

The half wolf Alpha stepped forward through the ranks, lashing his bushy tail as he watched Sweet's eyes. He circled her, looking her up and down till Sweet's hide began to itch. But she stayed silent.

“Look at this,” he told his Pack. “Not only an impressive catch, but the strength of will to carry it here without eating it.” He nudged Sweet's bony ribs with his muzzle. “And it's not as if she isn't hungry. That's the kind of discipline I like.”

“You're not serious?” yelped Beta. “We know nothing about her!”

Alpha looked from his Beta back to Sweet. Thoughtfully he
cocked his head.

“We know she's a good hunter,” he murmured. “She's clearly respectful, and has a sense of honor. What more could we ask for in a dog?”

“I don't believe this!” snapped Beta furiously, her hackles springing up. “You can't—”

“Can't?” echoed Alpha, a dangerous edge to his silky voice. “Are you telling me I can't do something, Beta? Because it's not the first time you've questioned my authority.” His growl deepened. “It's not the first time you've betrayed your delusion that
you
are Alpha here.”

“No, I—”

“Do you know better than I do? Do you think you'd make a better Alpha, perhaps? Would you like to . . .
challenge
me?”

Beta ducked her head, lowering her forequarters and backing off. Sweet could not miss the flash of terror in her eyes, and no wonder. The half wolf was much bigger and more powerful than the red dog—she wouldn't stand a chance if it came to a fight.

Alpha gave a snort of dismissal, and turned back to Sweet. “You may stay for now,” he told her. “Prove yourself a valuable member of this Pack, and a loyal one”—he shot a glare at Beta—“and you can stay for good.”

Murmurs of agreement went around the Pack as Sweet dipped her head in gratitude. The pregnant black-and-white dog came forward to lick her nose.

“I'm Moon. I'll show you where you'll sleep,” she told Sweet cheerfully. “Welcome to our Pack!”

Sweet felt a wave of relief.
I've found a Pack. I'll howl again at the next full moon!
But she couldn't miss the glance Beta shot at her. As she turned and stalked away, the red dog's eyes glowed with resentful hatred.

“Come on, Sweet. Really attack me!
I know you can do this!”

Fiery barked encouragingly, lifting his head to show a tantalizing glimpse of his soft throat. Sweet, still panting for breath after her last attempt, gave him a skeptical sidelong look. Bunching her muscles, she sprang again, only for his huge paw to whack her away. She rolled into a pile of leaves and lay there, flanks heaving as she tried to gather her dignity. It was five journeys of the Sun-Dog since she'd joined this Pack, and she was no closer to besting Fiery in a training fight.

“Go on,” he pleaded. “You're nearly there. Try again!”

Sweet hauled herself up onto her forepaws. It was hard enough practicing fighting techniques with a dog the size of Fiery and a hunter as nimble and lithe as Snap. But it made it a lot harder when Beta sat there smugly in the shade of a tree, scoffing under her breath at all of Sweet's feeble attempts.

Fiery was so helpful and enthusiastic, Sweet didn't have the heart to point out how wrong this all was. For a fragile and slender dog like her, Fiery's fighting strategies weren't appropriate at all, based as they were on sheer overwhelming power. Still, she hauled herself to her paws and tried again, launching herself at his shoulders and hanging grimly on.

He shook her off with a quick jerk of his massive body, and she thumped once more to the ground.

“Oh, well done, Sweetie.” Beta's voice was full of sarcastic delight.

Oh, shut up, Beta
, thought Sweet grimly.
You're loving this, aren't you?
Her body already ached in more places than she'd thought possible. At this rate, she wouldn't be fit even for patrolling.

“Never mind,
Sweetie
, I believe Omega can be a very fulfilling job.”

Rage boiled up in Sweet's gut. With a growl of bitter resentment, she launched herself at the unprepared Fiery, seizing his scruff in her jaws, and forcing him down with the sheer weight of her fury. He was back on his paws in moments, but he shook himself and licked her in congratulation.