barely aware of the other wolves jumping out of the woods, and the black wolf obstructed her entire view; she had no idea how many wolves there were, but she was sure it was enough to kill her pack.
She would not allow that to happen.
“I am the leader of this pack,” she announced, “and I will die defending it!” She lunged at the wolf, surprising him with her ferocity. She jumped behind him and bit down on his neck—the one place he could not reach.
He yelled in pain and began bucking like a wild bull, Aleu hanging on as tightly as possible. She kept a grip with her teeth, and wrapped her claws around his neck, trying to bring him down.
The black wolf was not so easily swayed. He whirled in circles and lashed out with his claws, catching Aleu several times in the paws and once in her shoulder. But he showed no sign of slowing down or breaking off the attack.
Finally, he threw himself on the ground, making sure Aleu hit it first. The impact crushed Aleu, driving the wind out of her and causing her to lose her grip.
The wolf laughed and stood back up. “Look around you, dog!” he ordered. “Look around and see what’s becoming of your previous pack.”
Aleu raised her head and looked, horror coming to her. Every single wolf in her pack was engaged in a fight with a wolf from the rogue army, and there were more rogue wolves appearing every minute. It would not be long before they were all dead.
“And all this could have been avoided if you had only told me what I wanted.” The black wolf pressed a claw to Aleu’s throat. “And if you tell me now, I will at least spare your life.”
Aleu stared at the black wolf. She was not afraid, not of death nor of him. If anything, she was furious—furious that he had come and committed genocide. “My fate will be the same as that of the rest of my pack,” she said with resilience.
The wolf growled, obviously expecting a different answer. “I daresay it won’t be.” He whirled around and kicked Aleu as hard as he could in her chest.
Aleu felt the wind leave her, and rolled on the ground for several feet before falling into water. It took her mere seconds to realize she had fallen into the stream. She struggled to swim back to shore, but the current suddenly picked up, pulling her feet out from under her. She barely had time to take a gulp of air before she slipped under the water and began floating downstream.
It was nearly impossible to surface again; the current was so strong, it made her limbs feel like they had minds of their own. When she finally reached air again, she was several hundred feet from the pack, which she could see was already dwindling down in size. She tried swimming back, intent on going back to help them.
But after submerging and resurfacing one more time, she realized with horror that there was no longer a pack to go back and help. The rogue wolves had made short work of her pack, and now there were only corpses left to await her rescue.
The black wolf was still staring at the part of the water where Aleu had fallen, as if waiting for her to surface. Perhaps, because of the dark light, he could not see that the stream had a current, and thus did not realize she was already so far downstream.
Her heart heavy with defeat, Aleu let the river take over her body. She did not know what would happen to her now, nor did she care.
She had failed. 

 CHAPTER 2

IN THE FIVE years since Balto saved Nome from the diphtheria scare, a lot had happened. He and Jenna had become mates, and had a litter of pups. Three of their children had become sled dogs; one of their pups was delivering mail; the last one was delivering telegraphs; and Aleu was hundreds of miles away, leading the wolf pack.
The night Balto came back from his journey with their daughter, and told Jenna that Aleu wasn’t coming home ever again, she had cried herself to sleep. But somehow, she had known that Aleu wasn’t coming back. She had feared it, but knew it would happen. So, after a few days, she had come to accept it.
The same could not be said for Balto. Hardly a day passed when he didn’t talk about Aleu, or at least bring up her name in a conversation. Some days it would drive Jenna crazy, but on other days it would comfort her; it all depended on how much Balto talked about their daughter.
Three years had gone by since Aleu had left home. Jenna missed her, and knew Balto missed her just as much, if not more. But she had faith in her daughter, and knew that, no matter where she was, Aleu was happy.
A movement on the horizon interrupted Jenna’s concentration. She focused her attention in that direction, moving her head from side to side to make sure it wasn’t just a reflection on the glass. She smiled when she realized that it was no reflection.
She jumped away from the window and ran out the small doggy door a few feet away. After she arrived outside and began making her way through the snow, she called out, “Balto!”
Balto was slowly making his way over the hill—slowly enough for Jenna to worry for a second that he was beginning to develop hypothermia. Her fears were put to rest, however, when she saw that he was simply walking with his eyes closed. And he was snoring.
Balto was sleepwalking.
Jenna chuckled as she walked up to Balto. While he kept walking, she put her mouth close to his ear and whispered, “Balto. Wake up, Balto.”
Suddenly, he stopped walking, jumped five feet up into the air, and snapped open his eyes. “No, Tydye! I didn’t steal it!”
Jenna eyed him. “Steal what?”
“That bone!” Balto continued, obviously not fully awake yet. “It wasn’t me, it was your mother!”
Jenna continued to stare at him. “Balto!” she snapped, this time much louder.
This time, Balto came to his full senses. “What?” he yelled. Then, realizing Jenna was there, he asked, a little quieter, “What?”
“Why did you accuse me of stealing Tydye’s bone?”
Balto turned pale. “I…I…I…” He smiled. “Okay, you caught me. How do you do that, anyway? You always seem to know when something goes wrong.”
The corners of Jenna’s mouth turned upwards ever so slightly. “You talking in your sleep doesn’t help your situation any.”
Balto’s smile vanished. “I…was…what?”
“Talking in your sleep,” Jenna replied. “You’ve got to stop doing that; it’s driving me crazy.”
Balto’s smile returned. “Yeah, but at least this time it was something pleasant. No ravens, no wolves, no long-lost daughters, no mice, just a lost bone.”
Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you been dreaming of Aleu and…mice?” The smile slowly returned to her face.
Balto’s smile disappeared once more. “Never!” he said quickly. “Never at all! Why do you ask?” Jenna continued to stare at him. “Okay, you caught me again.”
“When were you dreaming about all of this?” Jenna asked.
“Last night.” Balto sighed, shuffling his front feet back and forth. “They kept waking me up, so I didn’t get much rest.”
“Where does Aleu and…mice fit in?” Balto started to answer, but suddenly didn’t. He had an expression on his face that told Jenna that he didn’t remember. “You were up all night with your dreams…and you don’t remember them?”
Balto gave a weak smile. “Uh…maybe.”
Jenna just sighed. “You’re hopeless…and yet I still like you.” She scrunched her nose. “That makes no sense.”
Balto shrugged. “I know. I’m having a real bad time right now.” He sighed. “Believe me, if I could make everything right, I would…but I can’t.”
Jenna knew what Balto meant, and knew exactly what he was talking about. “It’s not your fault Aleu is gone, Balto. She made her choice. Besides that,” she added, “it’s been over three years since she left. Are you still feeling her loss?”
Balto sighed once more. “I don’t think I’ll ever fully heal. It’s almost as if she took a piece of my heart with her when she left. Now whenever there’s a breeze, I can feel it blowing through that hole in my heart.”
Jenna nodded slowly; she too had a hole in her heart. But she felt as if hers was smaller than Balto’s; hers had been partially mended with the adventures she had had with her other children. But at the same time she understood. Balto was the last person to see Aleu before she went over the sea, so it made sense that he carried, along with emotions of sadness and happiness, a sense of guilt for allowing her to leave and never come back.
“You know,” she said as an idea struck her, “you could just view it as giving your daughter away at a wedding.”
Balto looked at her. “I’ve tried that approach,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not the same; if I gave her away, I’d be able to see her again at least.”
Jenna couldn’t contain herself anymore. “Balto,” she said in a quiet voice, and then raising her voice, she shouted, “get a grip! You’re annoying the rest of us!”
Balto stared at her, a look of shock on his face. “What?”
Jenna lowered her voice; she had only raised it to grab Balto’s full attention, and she now had it. “I understand how you feel about Aleu, but try to keep your feelings to yourself, will you? You’re driving me crazy, Boris is going insane, and Malena is about to go