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full of black storm clouds. She couldn’t think straight. She wished she could stop shuddering.
    I know where Star is. And my parent-dogs. Her gut turned over. That’s why I feel so terrible. It’s grief.
    There was a movement at the den entrance. Snap’s muzzle poked inquisitively in, twitching at the stale air.
    â€œMoon?” The Patrol Dog took a few steps into the dimness of the den. “I came to make sure you’re all right. I’m so sorry about Alpha. About everything.”
    Moon opened her jaws to tell Snap she was fine, she’d be all right, she would lead the Pack as best she could. But all that cameout was a weak, trembling growl.
    â€œMoon?” There was urgency in Snap’s voice now as she lowered her head to touch Moon’s nose with her own. Pulling back, she whined in dismay. “Moon, you’re boiling hot! You’re sick!”
    â€œI’m not hot,” Moon croaked. “I’m cold, Snap. So cold.”
    As soon as she said it, though, she felt a wave of heat, oppressive and unbearable. I’m on fire. My blood, my hide, everything. Her jaws fell open and her tongue lolled.
    â€œPebble is sick, too.” Snap’s dark eyes were terrified. “Her wounds from yesterday aren’t helping.”
    Moon made a huge attempt to focus her thoughts, to clear the sticky fog in her head. She knew what Snap was thinking, and why her voice reeked of despair: She’s wondering how she can possibly take care of us all. She doesn’t know how to cope. . . .
    It was strange, thought Moon, but she herself felt very calm. She remembered the terrible battle yesterday: the moment when she had caught the scent of the Earth-Dog, and had known she was going to join her. Perhaps the worst had happened now, and she was no longer capable of being scared.
    Or perhaps it’s just the sickness, killing me bit by bit. . . .
    It was so hard to care. “Snap,” she whispered. “Get some of those leaves. Fiery’s plants. For Pebble and me. To chew.”
    Snap seemed to be relieved to have something—anything—to do. Turning on her haunches, she scrabbled out of the den and raced away. Moon sank back onto her now dirty bed of leaves.
    It’s the end of my Pack. We weren’t killed by those coyotes. We’ve been destroyed by an enemy we couldn’t even see.
    Maybe, Moon thought regretfully, she should have gone with Hunter after all. What use had it been, staying with the sick Pack out of loyalty? It had done her no good. It hadn’t helped Snap or Pebble. It hadn’t even helped the ones who’d been sick in the first place.
    Perhaps we should have gone while we could. We’d have saved what was left of our Pack. Was I foolish not to go with Hunter and the others?
    Moon closed her eyes, feeling nothing but a heavy sadness. Her head swam dizzily, and for a moment she thought her mind had drifted loose from her body.
    I’m hallucinating, she thought, gazing dully at her Father-Dog. Her Mother-Dog stood at his flank, and Star beside her.
    Pack is everything, Moon. Her Father-Dog looked at her kindly. Pack is sticking together. Pack is taking care of every dog. A Pack abandons no dog.
    Her Mother-Dog stepped forward, touching Moon’s ear with her nose. If you had left the others to suffer, Moon, you would not have been aPack Dog at all.
    â€œMother-Dog . . .” The sound of her own hoarse voice made Moon blink her eyes open. They felt sticky and sore and hot, and she narrowed them against the sting of the faint light.
    There was no sign of Alpha, or Beta, or Star. But another dog stood over her, gently licking her neck fur. A big, reassuring, black-and-brown presence.
    â€œFiery?” she whispered.
    â€œDon’t try to talk, Moon. Here. You must try to chew these leaves. And drink. You must drink this water, it’s important.”
    She felt Fiery’s strong nose under her foreleg, coaxing and