He wouldn’t give voice to his doubts for now. It was nice to see the Leashed Dogs looking happy and confident after their terror in the storm. Their certainty in the River-Dog’s help could do nothing but good for their mood.

Martha plunged into the water, right up to her shoulders, looking delighted to have a chance to swim once more and bathe her injured leg. Daisy and Sunshine watched happily from the shallows, less inclined to fling themselves in. Leaving them to their high-spirited splashing and lapping, Lucky wandered back to the exposed caves.

Bella came quietly to his side, sniffing and gazing at the great holes with him. “They look like they might be useful,” she murmured. “But I’m not sure I’d want to stay in them for very long.”

“Just what I was thinking,” Lucky agreed. “After all, there’s no saying the river can’t rise again. If it does, it might wash away anything inside these caves.”

“Just like it washed away the mud that was here,” said Bella with a shiver.

“Still, they’ll make a good temporary camp.” Lucky ventured inside one, and pawed gently at the wall, leaving shallow scratch-marks. “It will do the others good to rest for a while.”

“Yes.” Bella averted her eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened during the Sky-Dogs’ fight, Lucky. We . . . I panicked.”

Lucky nodded. There seemed to be nothing to say. Bella obviously understood how dangerous their pointless frenzy had been. She’d know to stay calm next time, he thought. At least, he hoped so. “I wonder where you should go after this though, Bella—” He froze, interrupted by a dreadful sound: a sickening, choking, heaving growl. As he and Bella turned, another guttural noise rattled his ears—a monstrous retching.

“What is—”

“Bruno!” Bella cried.

As they bolted toward him, the thickset dog gave one last ghastly heave, spewing thick, evil-smelling chunks from his mouth. Then he collapsed onto his side, his paws flailing weakly. The rest of the Pack crowded around, and Lucky shouldered his way through, shoving them aside. Standing over Bruno, he stared down in horror. The burly dog’s lips had turned a ghastly color, and lumps of the foul chunks clung to his mouth and gasping jaws. He was drooling nasty-smelling foam. His breaths made it sound as though his throat was twisted and knotted.

There’s rottenness inside him! thought Lucky, feeling a burn of dread in his body. Like a spoil-box—but a living one!

He knew what to do, although he had never done it before. Lucky lunged for the struggling dog, slamming his head into Bruno’s heaving belly. Before the others could object, he did it again. Then the Pack was pawing at him, yelping and barking.

“Lucky, don’t!”

“Leave him alone! What are you doing?”

Shaking them off, Lucky growled and head-butted Bruno again, making the dog thrash and squirm. Again and again he slammed his skull into Bruno’s gut, ignoring the protests.

Then Bruno gave a great, retching cough, spraying more foul chunks from his mouth. The mess hit the ground like rain as the sick dog’s head lolled back.