Doglands (27 page)

He landed on the dark side of the cave. Dedbone stood between Furgul and the daylight. Dedbone ignored the pain of his smashed face and spread his arms out wide. He crouched in the middle of the cave to block Furgul’s escape.

But Furgul didn’t want to escape. He could have ducked and dodged around Dedbone. He could have sprinted out of the cave. But then Dedbone would still be alive to hurt Keeva and Dervla and countless others. Furgul could not allow that. Somewhere inside Argal’s Mountain—he felt sure it was the crystal cavern—Furgul sensed a right Dogline. And Furgul intended to do the right thing.

His memory of being in the box with Eena and Nessa flashed in his mind.

Deep in the cave was another tooth that Furgul hoped he could use.

He skipped this way and that in front of Dedbone. Dedbone bobbed and weaved to cut him off. Furgul faked a whimper of fear and cringed before him.

Dedbone sneered. “Get ready to rot with your sisters on that hill.”

Furgul turned tail and went deeper into the cave. He stopped to glance back. Dedbone was peering forward, swaying from side to side, his human eyes straining to penetrate the gloom. Furgul waited for him. The cave was now so dark
that Furgul knew the only thing that Dedbone could see was Furgul’s pale coat of fur. Just as Dedbone had lured the greyhounds to chase fake rabbits at the track, Furgul now lured Dedbone deeper—deeper, deeper—into the dark. And Furgul was the dog who ran in darkness.

Dedbone spotted his paleness and lunged forward.

Furgul turned and bounded toward the chasm.

He heard Dedbone curse as he blundered onward in pursuit.

Just a few paces farther toward the rear of the cave, Furgul’s eyes spotted an area of the floor where the blackness became even blacker. It was the edge of the chasm. He lengthened his stride and picked up speed.

“There’s only one end to this race, lurcher!” Dedbone shouted. “And you’re about to cross the finish line!”

Furgul’s forepaws hit the rim of the chasm. All his weight rocked forward as his hind legs left the ground to coil beneath him. For an instant he was almost falling into space. He powered his hind legs downward against the rock. As his thighs propelled him forward and up, Furgul flew into the void above the abyss.

Up ahead—a foot or so higher than the floor of the cave—he saw a ledge appear from the blackness just before him. The same ledge he had spotted from the box when he was just a pup. For an instant he wondered if he’d judged his leap correctly. Then he landed on the rocky shelf, and momentum carried him on. He gasped but didn’t yelp as his shoulder
hammered into the wall. He scrambled to his feet. He turned and looked over and down.

He was perched on the opposite wall of the chasm, facing toward the cave. Beneath the ledge the wall disappeared in a sheer drop. He couldn’t see the hill of bones. He saw Dedbone’s silhouette lumber toward him from the cave. Furgul turned sideways so that Dedbone would see his pale coat.

To get across the abyss to the ledge, Furgul had jumped from a sprint, which gave him the maximum range. But the ledge was too narrow to allow him to build up another running jump. To get back across the chasm again, he’d have to jump from a standing start. From a standing jump he could gain more height—but he couldn’t make quite as much distance. Furgul reckoned that he wouldn’t be able to reach the safety of the cave again. He was trapped on the ledge—unless he could find a stepping stone to give his return jump a second boost.

Dedbone came closer and closer. His only guide was Furgul’s pale shape. And because Dedbone didn’t know about the ledge—and couldn’t see well in the dark—he thought that Furgul had stopped on the edge of the chasm.

But it was Dedbone who had now reached the edge.

One more step and Dedbone would walk into oblivion.

As Dedbone raised his foot, Furgul barked across the void.

“Dedbone! Watch your step!”

Dedbone looked down. He cursed in terror as the emptiness gaped at his feet. He stopped with his toes hanging over
the edge of the precipice. For an instant he teetered in panic, his head and shoulders bent forward, his arms cartwheeling backward to regain his balance, trying to tilt his weight to the safety of the solid rock floor behind him.

Dedbone almost made it.

But Furgul judged that his moment had come. He seized it.

His haunches drove him upward from the ledge in a steep, high arc. Alone he wouldn’t have made it all the way to the far side. But Furgul used Dedbone as his stepping stone. He stretched out his forelegs, and his paws touched down on Dedbone’s shoulders. As he whipped his hind legs in, tight beneath his chest, he dug his claws into Dedbone’s broad back and used the slaver’s weight as a platform for a second, extra thrust.

As Furgul’s takeoff propelled him forward into the safety of the cave, his paws shoved Dedbone away. And pushed the slaver screaming over the edge.

Furgul landed with all four paws on the rim of the cave.

Dedbone plunged headfirst into the chasm.

His last scream faded to a distant, desperate wail as he fell.

And fell.

And fell.

Furgul heard a dull, splintering crunch. And then there was silence.

A wave of lemony sunlight rolled through the mouth of the cave and dispelled the gloom. The clouds above the
mountain had helped Furgul—they’d made the cave even darker and Dedbone’s eyesight even worse. Now that Furgul didn’t need them anymore, the clouds had dispersed to reveal the sun.

Furgul went to the chasm’s rim. He looked down.

Dedbone lay sprawled on the bones of the hill of dead dogs. His mouth opened and closed, but he made no sound. Crimson stained his lips. His piggy eyes glinted. Broken shards of skeleton, ribs and femurs and jawbones, had impaled him through the back when he landed. He squirmed as the bloodstained greyhound bones jutted out of his belly like spears.

Dedbone tried to get up, but the hill underneath him began to collapse with his weight. The big man’s fall had shattered its delicate structure. Now Dedbone sank deeper and deeper into decay—as if the countless greyhounds he had killed were sucking him down into the dust to die among them. Dedbone raised a desperate hand toward Furgul. He was begging for his help.

Furgul wagged his tail and walked away.

O
nce upon a time in the Doglands, a pup was born in the slave camp that the dogs called Dedbone’s Hole. He’d been born in chains and sentenced to die, yet neither chains nor death had held him. He’d broken their rules. He’d escaped their prisons. He’d defied their guards and their guns. He’d returned and set the wrong things right.

Furgul emerged from the cave and raised his face to the sun.

It was good to be alive.

He knew where he had been, but he did not know where he was going.

The wild and rambling road called him still.

A wind swept toward him from the jaws of Argal’s Mountain high above. It bounded down from outcrop to outcrop, then whirled about Furgul in a vortex so strong that it
spun him around and around. Furgul grinned.

The wind was the spirit of Brennus saying hail and farewell.

It was Brennus who had rounded up the clouds to help Furgul beat Dedbone. Before Furgul could soak up the Brennus wind into his bones, it was suddenly gone. Mysteriously gone, for he saw no sign of its passing down the valley. No dust stirred, no blade of grass bent, no leaf fluttered on the trees.

A truck drove up the trail. It was Jodi.

The first thing Furgul saw was Skyver. He was strapped to a stretcher. He had a plastic contraption like a giant collar round his neck. The stretcher was fixed to the roof rack. Skyver stared up into space, and he was peeved.

“Is that you, Furgul?” called Skyver. “Do me a favor, will you?”

Furgul jumped on the hood of the truck and onto the roof beside Skyver.

“This is the thanks I get for planning and leading the task force to Dedbone’s Hole,” Skyver complained. “They won’t let me ride inside the car, even though I’ve got a broken neck.”

“Your neck’s broken?”

“Jodi says it’s just a whiplash, but what do Vets know? And—you’ll never believe this—guess why they won’t let me inside?”

Despite the fresh air, Furgul detected the overwhelming aroma of goat.

“I’ve no idea,” said Furgul.

The doors of the car opened, and Jodi, Keeva and Zinni climbed out.

Furgul jumped down to join them.

“Furgul?” said Skyver. “Furgul! Tell them to get me off this thing!”

The dogs surrounded Furgul in a festival of sniffing and snuffling. He was glad to see them too. Keeva rubbed her neck against Furgul’s shoulder. Tears of relief shone in her eyes. Zinni grinned and gave him her happiest tail wag. Jodi, too, was glad to see him alive.

“Furgul?” whined Skyver. “Are you there, old buddy? It’s freezing up here! And I need to cock a leg! Isn’t anyone listening? Skyver needs a pee!”

“Skyver told me everything,” said Jodi.

“I’m sure he did,” said Furgul.

“You must be incredibly proud of him,” said Jodi.

“Dogs will tell the tale of Skyver for a thousand years.”

“That’s exactly what Skyver said.”

“Did Cogg and Baz make it?” asked Furgul.

“If you mean the two giant schnauzers,” said Jodi, “they locked themselves in the smokehouse and won’t come out. Apparently there’s a priceless collection of smoked-pork products in there. They said they’d defend their bacon to the last rasher. Chuck Chumley’s sending a truck so they can take it all home.”

Furgul’s spirits soared as Dervla stepped down from the rear of the car.

She watched Furgul from a distance with her dark, haunted eyes. She carried a dozen wounds from the battle. The sadness within her reached out and touched his soul. Furgul smiled. The smile came from deep in his heart. Dervla raised her tail. But she didn’t smile back. Despite all that she’d been through, despite her scars inside and out, despite that she was the Dog Who Never Smiles, Dervla was as lovely as the dog he’d played with on that long-ago day in the park.

“The protection society have rescued the greyhounds,” said Jodi. “They’ll find good homes for them. We’re going back to Appletree. Jump in the car and we’ll get going.”

The dogs all looked at Furgul. He didn’t know what to say.

Dervla said, “Furgul’s not coming to Appletree.”

Furgul saw the way Dervla looked at him. He realized that she was right. She had known it even before he had known it himself. He wasn’t going back to the sanctuary.

“Is that true?” asked Jodi. “You’re not coming with us?”

Furgul nodded.

“But where will you go?” asked Jodi.

Furgul hadn’t thought about that. He looked at Dervla.

“He doesn’t know,” said Dervla. “He’ll find out when he gets there.”

Keeva looked at Furgul. She wanted him to stay. Then she saw something behind him. The light changed in her eyes. She trotted past him. Furgul turned.

Two small whorls of dust were skipping back and forth
outside the mouth of the cave. Keeva started whirling around with them. Her face was radiant with joy.

“What’s got into her?” asked Skyver. “And by the way, will someone get me off this roof? Anyone? Please?”

They were all entranced in watching Keeva dance. Furgul’s heart clenched.

“It’s Eena and Nessa,” he said. “They’re free.”

From the throat of the cave came a distant howl, like a pack of greyhounds baying for the chase. The howl rose into an ecstatic roar. Then the ghost hounds hurtled from the cave on a mystic hurricane.

As Furgul felt their spirits rushing by, his own spirit soared. Dervla and Zinni and Keeva felt it too. On the roof of the car Skyver let out a long yowl of fright.

The ghost hounds surged down the slope and through the valley, flattening the grass and bending the trunks of even the strongest trees. In the distance the flames of Dedbone’s Hole erupted into an inferno. The buildings were flattened. The junkyard was cleansed. The wire-mesh walls of the compound were torn down. Empty dog crates and eating troughs were blown away like leaves. Then, just as abruptly, the fiery blaze was snuffed out. The phantom hounds galloped on across the sky. And of Dedbone’s Hole they left not a wisp behind.

“Hey!” shouted Skyver. He was sniffing his own fur and struggling against the safety straps that held him down. “I’m clean! I’M CLEAN! They blew away all the goat poop! All of it! Honestly! LET ME DOWN!”

For the moment everyone ignored him. They were all too stunned by what had happened. Then one last wind emerged from the cave. Warm, huge, gentle and wise. It was the spirit that had gone into the chasm to free the ghosts of the greyhounds trapped inside the hill of dead. As Brennus brushed by Furgul’s cheek, Furgul heard what sounded like a whisper in his ear.

“Seek the Dog Lore.”

Furgul looked at Keeva. It was hard to leave her again. He couldn’t tell her why he had to go, because he didn’t really know. Keeva stepped over and licked his face.

“You know where to find me,” said Keeva. “Don’t forget.”

“Yes, Mam,” said Furgul. “I won’t forget.”

Furgul could feel a Dogline beneath his feet.
The pawprints of the ancestors
. He felt as if they were singing to him, telling him a story he did not yet understand. The story began in the faraway distant past and led toward a faraway distant future.

Toward the Doglands.

Furgul looked at Dervla.

“Have you ever been to the Doglands?” he asked.

“No,” said Dervla.

“Dogs like us could find them. If we tried.”

“With you, I’ll try anything.”

Furgul said, “Shall we run?”

“Yes,” said Dervla.

And the Dog Who Never Smiles smiled at last.

It was the most beautiful dog smile Furgul had ever seen.

Dervla said, “Let’s run.”

Furgul didn’t hesitate. He turned and loped away across Argal’s Mountain.

Dervla ran away with him.

“Furgul!” barked Zinni. “We love you, Furgul!”

“Furgul?” howled Skyver. “FUR-GUL!”

Keeva watched Furgul and Dervla go, her sweet heart aching for her son.