Waggit Forever (11 page)

W
aggit took a deep breath and headed toward the dark forest. As he entered it, he could feel the temperature drop and the air get damp. He smelled the powerful aroma of rotting leaves. There was something about this place that was beyond time, where the past, present, and future had no meaning at all. There were no paths here, no evidence that anyone had ever been this way. Because the canopy of leaves was so dense and prevented any light from filtering through them, there was almost no undergrowth.
Also, the trees were spaced farther apart than on the rest of the hill, which made walking much easier than he had anticipated. He had no idea why he was heading in the direction he took, or where he was going, but he followed his instincts.

The forest had the curious effect of being bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside, and Waggit had been walking for what seemed like ages when he saw it. There was a flash of orange at the outer edges of his vision, but when he whirled around, it disappeared. At first he was sure his mind was playing tricks on him, but then he saw it again. In the darkness two orange eyes were watching him. Cautiously he moved toward them, but he never seemed to get any closer, although it appeared they weren't moving. He broke into a run, and suddenly he was in a clearing, one that was covered by the unrelenting ceiling of leaves, making it almost as black as any other part of the forest. His eyes had now adjusted to the lack of light, and on the far side of the clearing he could see the Gray One standing on a fallen tree trunk. Even in the gloom he looked powerful and mysterious, those piercing eyes surrounded by a mane of fur, his strong muscles tight inside his coat. Waggit approached him
carefully, aware that he was no match for this being.

“You did well to find me, Waggit” came the voice out of the darkness. “You are a dog of great character.”

“I wasn't looking for you,” said Waggit. “I didn't know this place existed until now.”

“But you are a seeker, and seekers often find what they do not know but which they long for.”

“And what do I long for?” asked Waggit.

“You yearn for the Tazarians to be at peace, to have security and stability, but you don't know how to solve the problems that plague them now, so you come here.”

“How can you find peace when you live in a place that is cursed and you have nowhere else to go?” he asked the Gray One.

“It will be cursed only as long as you are the Curse's keeper,” the Gray One replied.

“What do you mean?” Waggit was puzzled by what the creature said. “The hill was cursed long before we got here.”

“And long before you got here, other dogs kept the Curse and gave it its power. It will only exist for as long as you or those who come after you believe in it.”

“But so many bad things have happened,” protested
Waggit. “Are you telling me that none of them had anything to do with the Curse?”

“Life is full of bad things,” replied the Gray One. “You are fortunate that they are outnumbered by the good. Many dogs live with misfortune and only misfortune their entire lives. What has happened to your team is of little importance. Raz pulled a muscle while hunting—well, we've all done that; Alona got sick, but she will recover; and the spring ran dry, not because of any evil intent by an Upright long dead, but because it hasn't rained for many risings. It will rain again, and there are other springs on Gray King Hill.”

Waggit was stunned that the Gray One knew all that had happened to the team in the last few days, but what surprised him most was the name that he gave to the area.

“Don't you mean Damnation Hill?” he asked.

“That is what some call it,” said the wolf, “but long before it got that name, before Uprights roamed the land, and when creatures long gone lived here, it was named after the Gray King, a being of immense power and wisdom who ruled its woods. You must call it by whichever name you think suits it best.”

Waggit fell silent, pondering all that the wolf had
said. It was confusing to be told one thing and then something completely different. The facts were the same, but their meanings were miles apart.

“So what you're saying,” he asked after a few minutes of contemplation, “is that if we don't believe in the Curse, no more bad things will happen to us?”

“Bad things will always happen,” replied the wolf. “It's the way of the world. But if you believe they are caused by evil, then you are powerless to do anything about them. If you have the courage to face them, they will be vanquished. Follow your destiny, Waggit. Don't let the fears of foolish dogs deflect you from its path.”

Then, as had happened the first time that he met the Gray One in the cave, Waggit suddenly felt immensely tired. He lay down on the soft, leaf-strewn forest floor and was asleep in an instant.

He must have slept for several hours, because when he woke up, a reddish gold light was shining at the low angle that indicated it was near day's end. The trees glowed like golden scepters, and the forest was not as cold and mysterious as it had been earlier. He decided that it must be because the sun was flooding under the leaf ceiling at this time of day. There was no sign of the Gray One, so he got up, shook himself, and made
his way out of the forest. When he was on the deer path, he turned to look back at where he had been and once again was struck by how much smaller it seemed from the outside than the inside. Then his eye caught something glittering on the far edge of the forest. He could see a fork in the deer path leading toward it, so he cautiously headed in that direction.

It was farther away than it first appeared, but finally he could see it—a rock pool that bubbled up from an underground spring and spilled down the side of the hill. The pool's surface shimmered in the late-afternoon sunlight, and he watched fascinated as the water cascaded through the woods like liquid gold. He realized that its course must take it quite close to the cave, although he couldn't understand why they hadn't found it before. They had roamed all the neighboring areas in search of another water supply when the spring ran dry. Feeling suddenly thirsty, he drank from the pool. The water was sweet and icy cold, and Waggit thought it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Excited about his discovery, he ran back down the path to the meadow, where he found Felicia filling plastic bowls with water for the dogs to drink out of. She looked up as he approached.

“Why, Waggit,” she cried. “Where have you been? We almost sent out search parties to look for you.”

“I've found another spring, one that's running now,” he yelped eagerly, “with a stream that runs down the hill not too far from here.”

“That's great news,” said Felicia, who was getting a bit tired of hauling water up the hill. “Where is it?”

“As best as I can work out,” replied Waggit, “it's over in that direction.”

He pointed with his nose to where he thought the stream was located.

“That doesn't make sense,” said Tazar. “We've scoured every blade of grass and fallen leaf in that area looking for water. We couldn't have possibly missed it.”

When Tazar said “we,” he meant the Tazarians rather than himself. Although his broken leg had healed quite well, he still walked with a limp and found it difficult to move quickly through wooded areas. Hunting, which he'd never been any good at anyway, was now completely out of the question.

“That's what I thought,” replied Waggit, “but it's there all right. The spring is way up the hill, but the stream was flowing in this direction.”

“Let's go look for it now,” said Raz, all fired up and ready for adventure.

“Yeah, let's,” agreed Cal.

“No, it's nearly dark,” warned Tazar. “The last thing we want is anyone getting injured crashing through the woods.”

Everyone thought that waiting was the sensible thing to do, even Cal and Raz, after some initial groans of disappointment.

“First thing in the morning,” said Little One, “as soon as we get up…”

“…we'll go look for it,” said Little Two.

And that was exactly what they did.

At first light they left Felicia, Tazar, Lowdown, and Gruff at the meadow. Even Alicia wanted to help search out the stream, mostly because she hated the way the water tasted in the plastic containers. They broke into three groups, each taking one section of the hill on the western side of the caves. Of course, the dogs didn't know east from west; they just knew the side of the hill where the light went late in the day. The weather continued to be dry and warm, and the dogs agreed to meet back at the meadow when the sun was directly overhead. Waggit, Magica, and Gordo
took the highest section, Cal and Raz the middle, and Alicia, Little One, and Little Two the lowest part.

Waggit was confident that he would find the stream straightaway, and he and Magica ran into the woods, noses twitching and ears pricked, leaving Gordo to lumber behind yelling for them to wait. Evidence of the recent lack of rain was everywhere, from the dust the dogs kicked up to the crackly brown ferns beneath their paws. They worked systematically, going backward and forward just as they would if they were trying to pick up the scent of their prey when hunting. Every so often Waggit would stop and lift his nose into the air, trying to detect the smell of water, which is quite strong to a dog. The three animals worked their section for several hours, sniffing and listening for the sounds a stream would make as it ran down the hill, but to no avail.

“We should be getting back to the meadow,” said Magica, looking at the sun that was high in the sky. “Maybe the others had better luck.”

“I don't understand it,” said Waggit, his brow wrinkled in a frown. “It has to be here somewhere. I saw it, and it was definitely coming in this direction.”

“Well, the woods can be confusing sometimes,”
Magica assured him. “Perhaps it was farther over than you thought.”

Waggit was pretty sure that it wasn't, but there was no point discussing it now, and the three of them returned to the meadow. When they arrived, they saw that the rest of the team had returned before them, and from the looks on their faces, their searches had been no more fruitful.

“No luck?” Waggit asked Cal and Raz.

“Nothing,” Cal replied.

“You neither?” He turned to Little One and Little Two.

“Nothing,” they replied in chorus.

“And don't think we didn't try,” screeched Alicia. “I ain't ever walked as far as we did today, and I ain't gonna do it again.”

And with that said, she lay down with her back to them all.

“Waggit, are you sure the stream was running down that side of the hill?” asked Tazar. “It's easy to get disoriented in the woods. Maybe it was coming down the other side.”

“It can't have been,” Waggit reassured him, “because I saw it close to the time of darkening and it was still
catching the sunlight. No, it must have been that side.”

He looked at the faces of the team and realized that doubt was creeping in, doubt that the spring, the rock pool, and the stream existed outside of his imagination.

“I tell you, I saw it,” he protested. “I even drank from it.”

“Waggit,” said Lowdown in a quiet, calm voice, “if you say you saw it, we believe you; it's just that maybe we ain't looking in the right place is all we're saying.”

But Waggit knew in his heart of hearts that wasn't all they were saying.

“I'll find it,” he said. “I'll find it by myself.”

And he turned and left the meadow, retracing the steps he had taken the day before.

W
aggit walked disconsolately back up the hill. He knew that what he had seen was real. He could even remember the sensation of the icy, clear water in his mouth and how delicious it had tasted. He was sure that if he returned exactly the way he had gone, then he would find the rock pool, and from there he could follow the path of the stream down until it passed through an area that he recognized. Maybe he could howl to attract the attention of the others until they found him. It was worth a try.

The path was steep, and he was feeling tired from the frustrating search of the morning, but he was determined to solve the mystery of the missing stream. The journey seemed much longer and more difficult than the first time he had made it, but he realized that it was he who had changed, not the terrain. He was no longer excited about what he might find, but fearful of what he might not.

The trouble with woods is that they all look alike, and if it hadn't been for the deer path he was following, he would have had no way of knowing whether or not he was in the same place as yesterday. Then he saw where the trees changed from woodland to forest, and the path veered away from the darkness. What he couldn't see was the fork in the path that led to the pool. He kept going, hoping that it would reveal itself, but soon he realized he had gone too far, and he started to backtrack.

He hadn't gone far when suddenly he found it. If you approached it going up the hill, ferns and other low-growing foliage hid it, but as you came back down, it was obvious for all to see. What wasn't obvious was where the pool was. He walked slowly down the fork in the path, keeping his senses alert for any sign of
water. The sunny day had clouded over and the light was no longer bright, giving a gloomy feel to his surroundings.

He heard it before he saw it—the chiming sound of the stream as it splashed over rocks. Then he saw the pool, no longer shimmering like burnished gold, but as black as the rock in which it lay. He went to its edge and sniffed. It still smelled clear and sweet, and he lapped at it eagerly. When his thirst was quenched, he moved to the side of the pool where the stream gushed over the edge as it began its journey down the hill. The drop was quite steep, but his determination to discover its course was stronger than any fear he felt as he began to scramble down alongside it.

The going was hard. At times the hill fell away almost in a sheer precipice, so steep that he had to watch carefully where he was going to keep himself from tumbling head over paws. Because he had to keep his head down, he tracked the stream as much by sound as sight, following its gurgling with his ears as his eyes concentrated on the ground beneath him. Suddenly the noise changed to a hollow rushing sound, and he stopped and looked up. Then he saw with horrible clarity why they hadn't been able to find
the stream. A few feet in front of him it disappeared down a large opening in the rock and continued on its way underground. By the time it got anywhere near the cave, it was deep below the surface of the earth

He was bitterly disappointed. Why didn't things work out the way he wanted them to? The cave and the meadow were perfect places for the team to live, but without water they were useless. They could move up to the pool, but there was no shelter, no open space, and Lowdown for one would never be able to make the journey. The whole situation was too frustrating. He had to get back to the team to deliver the bad news, but even this was hard. He couldn't return the way he had come because it was too steep, so he had to cut across in the direction of the deer path. The stones beneath his paws were loose, causing him to stumble frequently. Thorns scratched his skin, and roots concealed gaps that could trap his feet and cause him serious injury if he wasn't careful. He finally made it to the path and despondently trudged back to the meadow. The dogs were excited to see him but worried by his dejected appearance.

“You didn't find it, did you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“That's great! Does it come down this way?”

“It does.”

“Can you show us?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“By the time it gets near here, it's way underground.”

“That's why we couldn't find it?”

“That's why.”

“Oh no!”

Felicia came over and stroked his head in sympathy.

“Poor Waggit,” she consoled him. “You must be so disappointed, and you tried so hard, but you know you did the best you could, and that's all anyone can do. There are some things that are out of our control and always will be.”

Although he knew she was saying this with the best intentions, for the first time in his life he found her really annoying. He wandered over to their rock pool, but it was still dry. Tazar saw how upset Waggit was and came up to him.

“She's right, you know,” he said. “You did everything you could. Sometimes things just don't work
out. Don't worry. We'll solve this somehow.”

Just then Alicia, who had been napping in the back of the cave and had missed the entire conversation, came out yawning and stretching.

“So,” she yelped, “did ya find it?”

“He did,” said Gordo glumly, “but it's underground and you can't get to it.”

“Yeah, well, what did ya expect?” she continued, almost pleased at Waggit's failure. “We ain't gonna get any lucky breaks in this place 'cause it's cursed.”

Waggit whirled around and looked her straight in the eyes.

“How do you know this place is cursed?” he snarled. “Do you believe everything Gordo tells you because he believes everything some know-it-all Terminor tells him?”

Alicia was taken aback by the anger in Waggit's voice.

“Well, no, but all these things that've gone wrong—the spring drying up and Alona getting sick and everything else. I mean,” she defended herself, “it seems like there's a curse.”

“There's only a curse if you believe in it,” said Waggit.

“I do believe in curses,” Gruff chimed in. “I've seen too much trouble happen in my life not to.”

“Yeah, well, you've seen trouble where there wasn't none,” said Lowdown, who had joined the fray, “and you've enjoyed every minute of it. I'm with Waggit. The only curse is the one you put upon yourself.”

“Oh, well, what about that Upright who was killed by the Wild Yellows?” sneered Alicia, having regained some of her composure.

“How do you know there ever was an Upright?” asked Waggit. “We have only the word of one Terminor, who was told by another dog, who was told by yet another dog, and so on and so on. How do you know that Wild Yellows were ever on this hill? Have you ever seen them or any evidence that they were ever here?”

Since the answer to this question was no, Alicia remained sulkily silent. All the other dogs had now gathered around Waggit, interested in what he was saying.

“When I first joined this team,” he continued, “Tazar told me that we controlled our own destinies, that the whole point of being a free dog was taking charge of your life and living it as best you could
without being pushed around by others, whether they were Uprights or other dogs. If you believe your life is being ruled by a curse, aren't you giving up that freedom? If some stories told to you by a dog you don't even know stop you from believing you can do anything you want, then what's the point of being a free dog? Why not just become a Petulant? It's a lot easier in many ways. Remember, I know.”

Waggit looked around. In front of him the entire team was looking up, hanging on his every word. They were literally looking up at him because, without even thinking about it, he was standing on a rock, just as Tazar did when he addressed the team. In fact Tazar was the only dog in the pack who wasn't gathered around. He was standing a little way off next to Felicia, a look of pride on his face. Tazar knew that a great leader had to share power in order to strengthen it, and that the stability of a team depended upon having another dog ready to take over should anything happen to him. After the disappointment of his son's betrayal he had put all his hopes in Waggit, and now he was seeing all his wishes coming true.

Waggit hadn't meant to make a speech, but Alicia's whiny comment had struck a nerve in him. The words
of the Gray One were ringing in his head, and they had to come out.

“There are many things in our lives we can't control. We can't control the way Uprights behave, especially the Ruzelas. We can't even stop Felicia going to South every Chill, and we can't make the Long Cold go away. What we can control is our fear and our belief in ourselves, our ability to survive whatever we have to. We've overcome many obstacles in the past, and we'll do so in the future, but only if we truly believe we can. I've been told that long before this hill was called Damnation Hill it went by the name Gray King Hill, and it was named after a very wise creature. So let's celebrate the death of the Curse; let's give our home back its old name, and forget it was ever called by another.”

The team broke out into an uproar of yips and howls, which is the closest dogs get to cheering. And as they did there was a loud clap of thunder above them, and it began to rain.