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But whatever happens, the Spirit Dogs will be watching over you. When you call for them, they will come—they will protect you.
    When Lucky opened his eyes, Martha had retreated to the circle and Bruno was stepping forward. The gruff old dog dropped a sturdy branch on the ground before Lucky. He kept his head low as he spoke. “The branch is strong. It represents your courage and honor. No wind or rain can ever break it.”
    Lucky’s fur tingled, and he gazed at Bruno. He won’t meet my eye. He still feels bad about siding with the dog-wolf when he wanted me out of the Pack. It was Lucky who reached over and touched Bruno’s nose, silently vowing to let the old brown dog understand that he could stop feeling bad about the past—it had long been forgotten.
    Soon every dog had made an offering and explained its symbolism. The Pack stood in a respectful silence, most eyes on Lucky—their new Beta. Only Storm did not look at him. Instead she gazed up at the sky.
    Lucky padded up to her. “Is something wrong?” he murmured.
    â€œNot ‘wrong,’ but . . .” She cocked her head, still looking up. “Have you noticed how the Sun-Dog runs from one side of the sky to the other? He makes the same journey every day, always in the same direction. How does he get back to the start of his journey without us seeing him?”
    Lucky frowned. He had never thought of that before. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
    Storm lowered her eyes. “You don’t?”
    Lucky was sorry to disappoint her, but Storm wasn’t a pup anymore—she had to learn. She wants me to give her all the answers. But sometimes, there are no answers.
    He was startled by Sweet giving a piercing howl. He saw his mate’s face aimed toward the sky, her neck fur bristling as the sound surged from her throat. After a long howl, she brought her head down, letting her eyes rove over each and every dog.
    â€œThe ceremony is over,” she said, “and my Beta is confirmed. Tomorrow the Pack will be stronger than ever.”
    She threw her head back to howl again. This time, every dog howled with her.
    That night as Lucky lay beside Sweet in their den, he felt closer to her than ever. It was official now—they weren’t only mates, they were Alpha and Beta. He sighed as he closed his eyes and felt the rise and fall of Sweet’s flank against his. If only I’d known what the future held when we first met in the Trap House. I wouldn’t have waited till the Big Growl! I’d have gnawed my way through to her cage and told her that we’d be okay.
    He closed his eyes, lingering on this thought. He pictured the wire bars of the cages. He could almost smell the dogs imprisoned in rows and the fear-scent rising off their fur.
    Lucky turned to Sweet, but cold lengths of wire had appeared between them, and he could no longer reach the swift-dog. The air hissed with danger, and Lucky’s tail shrank against his leg. He sniffed urgently, sensing sleeping dogs in neighboring cages. Something deadly was coming, but it had no shape, no scent . . . .
    Lucky sprang to his paws with a startled whine, just as the ground started shaking beneath his paws. The Big Growl! But it’s already happened! Lucky howled. The Big Growl destroyed the city, but we survived! Why do I keep coming back to the Trap House? What does it mean?
    On the other side of the bars, Sweet was still asleep. Lucky had opened his mouth to bark when he saw a small, plump dog hurrying along the corridor. Intrigued, Lucky cocked his head to look, pressing his paw against the wire door to his cage. The door faded in front of him, and Lucky scrambled out onto the ground. As he turned to look around the Trap House, the wire cages disappeared before his eyes.
    Lucky gasped in amazement. Shivering, he glanced down at his paws. The ground beneath him had turned to ice. What was happening?
    He looked up into a