For an instant, the dogs were stunned into silence by the heat and the light. No-sun had been driven away by the glare and roar of the flaming tree. Lucky bit back a whine of relief and fear. I remember! Old Hunter had seen many storms, and told me that lone trees were always attacked by Lightning.

“Wildfire!” Mickey howled, tail tight between his legs.

“NO!” Any control that Sunshine had gained was torn apart, as she fled from the safety of the trees with an anguished howl.

“Sunshine!” Bella barked. “Come back!”

The little dog was already a distance away, racing toward the water. “River-Dog! River-Dog! Protect us!” she howled.

“No!” Bella sped after Sunshine, and then Lucky spotted what his litter-sister had obviously seen.

The river in front of Sunshine looked strange, like no river he had ever seen before. It looked as if it was rising, bulging. Cold horror ran through Lucky’s body as he raced after Bella, barking at Sunshine to stop.

Sunshine took no notice of either of them, and continued to bolt toward the swelling river. As Lightning slashed another path across the sky, Lucky saw the danger clearly, just for an instant. The water was higher than the bank. How was that even possible? It was a dirty, foaming line, and the river was coming toward them.

With a shock as sharp as if Lightning had run right into him, he realized. The river’s breaking free!

Bella was on top of Sunshine now, holding her down. Lucky leaped in to help his litter-sister move the little dog. He grabbed on to one of Sunshine’s forelegs while Bella took her collar between her teeth. Then they scrabbled into an abrupt turn, racing away from the looming water. Sunshine yelped—more in shock than pain—as they pulled her away.

Then Lucky heard the sudden crash and roar of the water. So much for liking the stick; the River-Dog is furious!

They burst into the trees as the other dogs stared past them, their eyes wide and their flanks heaving in horror. As he and Bella dropped Sunshine unceremoniously to the ground, Lucky spun on his paws.

The river was still rushing toward them, the clear water turned to a churning darkness. The River-Dog was baying his rage. The waves of water were racing closer, their tips edged with that sick-looking, creamy foam.

“Run!” barked Lucky.

The dogs didn’t need to be told twice. Yelping with terror, they fled farther up the valley, while behind them, the menacing torrent thundered through the trees where they’d been standing moments before. Lucky heard the tear and crack of branches pounded by water.

“Higher ground!” barked Lucky urgently. “Keep going up!” Water could not climb hills—that much, he knew.

The dogs were panting and gasping by the time Lucky let them halt, high on the slope. Flanks heaving, they stared down at the sheet of dirty, choppy water that lay across the lower meadows. Many of the trees were half-submerged, small waves licking at their trunks.