Lucky glanced at the sky. Clouds were breaking up, letting the Moon-Dog gleam between their shreds, and the rain had slackened to a spitting drizzle. The battle above them was over, and the Sky-Dogs’ rumbling growls faded in the distance. The pine was sending up clouds of sharp-scented steam, its top branches blackened, half its trunk submerged in the broken river. A few last flames flickered in its topmost branches, but Wildfire’s trail had been swallowed by the water.

“It’s over,” breathed Martha. “The Sky-Dogs have stopped fighting.”

“For now.” Sunshine shivered. “I’m sorry, Lucky. I’m sorry, Bella. I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared. . . .”

“Don’t worry too much,” said Lucky. Thinking his bark might have been a little gruff, he gave her ear a reassuring lick. “But try not to panic. Trust in your Packmates. They are who you need to rely on now.”

The hillside seemed very exposed, but that didn’t bother Lucky when he thought about what might have happened to them had they stayed lower down the slope. He picked his way farther up, through flattened grass and tangled twigs, letting the others follow at their own speed. They’d been barked at more than enough since his return, and any haste or urgency might cause one of them to make a wrong step in the dark. This was something they could not afford.

Still, they were close behind him when he paused on a ridge and cocked an ear. The ground fell away quite sharply, as far as a dog could safely jump, then leveled out into a shallow dip like a longpaw drinking bowl. It was sheltered, and the surface looked like it had not been wounded by the Big Growl.

“Let’s sleep here,” suggested Lucky.

“Is it safe?” Daisy was trembling, only partly from the exhaustion of the climb.

Lucky licked her ear. “It’s as safe as it can be, I think. I doubt we’ll find any other shelter up here.”

“Lucky’s right,” agreed Bella. “Don’t worry, Daisy. We’ll look after you.”

Lucky gave her an affectionate glance. He had a feeling that after what had happened to poor Alfie, Bella would be more protective of the smaller dogs than ever. “It’ll be sunup soon. We should get a bit of extra sleep if we can.”

Lucky was almost too tired to tread his ritual circle, and when he curled up by himself the tip of his tail flicked restlessly. The others soon fell into an exhausted sleep, but Lucky found he could not.

Wriggling, he tried to make himself more comfortable, but his fur was still sopping wet, and he could feel every little stone and twig against his body. He stood up to give himself an extra shake, but it didn’t help much. The air was cold against his wet skin, and his ears and tail felt bedraggled and heavy.

Once more he curled on the ground, his head on his paws, and closed his eyes determinedly. Please, Moon-Dog, he thought. Let me rest. . . .