to the nearby ocean. “I’m going to wash it; maybe that will help stop the pain.”
However, one dip of his paw into the saltwater later, and he once again yelled into the air. Malena, still on his boat, called out, “You should go to the vet!”
“I don’t need a vet!” Balto screamed, the volume of his voice aided by the pain in his paw. “Vets are for dogs who need them! I am one perfectly happy dog.” He raised his voice even louder, as if to let the whole town hear him. “You hear? I am a perfectly happy dog!”
Malena just rolled her eyes and sighed. Feeling her work was done—she had delivered her present, after all—she began walking back to town, leaving her father on the beach spewing curses and fighting to ease his inconvenient pain.

After a few hours, the snow started up again; Aleu was under the clouds once more. And she didn’t like it one bit.
This time, the wind came from the east, so the snow splattered against her cheek instead of her eyes. She soon felt her face turning numb from the cold, but continued on; she hadn’t come all this way just to let a little snow get in her way.
Soon she came to a group of trees, and decided to stop there for a few minutes to take shelter from the storm and to rest. While lying down, she suddenly felt a sharp object suddenly dig itself into her chest.
She let out a howl, more out of instinct than intention. She jumped up, but the object was still in her chest. She looked down and saw it was a sharp piece of glass.
Aleu grimaced, carefully reaching down and pulling the glass out with her teeth. The instant it was out, fresh blood started pumping out. She looked around quickly; she needed something that would stop the blood, or else she would soon find herself in a bad situation.
All she found was a leaf.
She lay back down—this time being careful where she did so. She dug the injured part of her chest into the snow and tried to force herself to forget the pain. She tried thinking of something—anything—that would take her mind away from her chest.
All that came to her was her father, but it was enough. When she started thinking of Balto, her pain started to go away. Not only did it go away, but she felt the wound start to heal.
But it wasn’t her physical wound that was being healed; it was her emotional wound. She had carried the wound with her after she had left her father, after the mist had enveloped him and taken him away from her sight. From that moment, her emotional heart had been pierced, and it had never healed.
Now, she realized, she would be able to heal it completely. She thought of what would happen when she got back home, and it made her smile, despite the pain in her chest.
She got back up once she was sure the wound would no longer bother her—the blood had dried—and started walking again.
Aleu had now been on her quest for over a month, but she was only back to Nome. Her journey home was far from over.

Balto was able to sleep in much longer the next morning, thanks to his new half-window cover. This made him feel happy, but he quickly realized it wouldn’t matter soon; because of the time of year, the sun would start coming in through the other three windows instead of the one he had covered. He and Boris had taped up some tarps the night before, but the sun shone through them as if they were merely sheets of paper.
Balto stretched, trying to wake up completely, and walked outside to get some fresh air. The sun shone over the horizon to his right as he walked by the ocean. After getting enough ocean air, he started walking into town.
Dingo was there, apparently waiting for him. “Good morning, Dad,” he said once Balto came within hearing range.
Balto smiled. “Good morning, Son. Why are you out here so early? I thought vacation was when you were supposed to sleep in.”
Dingo shrugged. “Oh, I had a hard time staying asleep, so I just decided to quit trying. Besides, I needed the exercise.” He smiled. “And Malena told me about your paw, so I decided to go and find you some boards myself.”
Balto grimaced, remembering the incident from the day before. “Oh, it’s nothing, really.” He raised his paw, letting Dingo examine it. Then he quickly put it back onto the ground when he realized that it hadn’t even begun to heal; there was still dried blood on it.
He put it back onto the ground with such force that pain erupted from it. He let out a sharp groan.
Dingo smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with unashamed amusement. “It’s nothing, eh?”
Balto shrugged. “It…was worth…a try,” he said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice—quite unsuccessfully.
“So, would you like to help me find some wood or not? Because, if you are…” Dingo tried to hide a chuckle. “…unable to do so, you could stay at your ship while I go for the wood by myself.”
“What, and miss all the excitement?” Balto asked, beginning his run into town. “Never!”
Dingo smiled once more, and followed his father.
As they ran, Balto realized that not only was he having fun, but he was having more fun than he had had in quite some time. He began to wonder, exactly how he had missed all the fun with his other children over the past few years?
The answer hit him like a bullet: he had been thinking about Aleu too much to really care about her siblings. While running—desperately trying to stay in front of his son—he realized that the past three years of his life could have been his most joyous, had he not been thinking of Aleu all the time. Now, and only now, he realized exactly how much of his children’s lives he had missed out on.
He slowed to a stop and waited for Dingo to catch up. Once he had, Dingo asked, “What’s wrong, Dad?”
Balto simply looked at him. “Son, I owe you an apology.”
Dingo raised an eyebrow. “What on earth for?”
“For not being there for you,” Balto answered with a sigh. “I have been thinking about your sister too much to care about the rest of you; I guess I’ve been feeling sorry for myself. I’ve missed out on your entire life, and I think that it’s time for me to start caring about you. So…I’m sorry.”
Dingo smiled. “No need to be sorry, Dad,” he said reassuringly. “I miss Aleu, too, and I think it’s taken the better part of me as well.” He looked down south. “Sometimes I still hear her howl, calling at me in the wind. And I’m always tempted to howl back.”
Balto smiled. “Maybe we could do it together.”
So they raised their heads, and let out howls. By far, Balto’s was more authentic, but they were so close together that they sounded like a single wolf, crying out to the full moon.
That was for you, Aleu…wherever you are.
 
 CHAPTER 6

AFTER ANOTHER TWO mountains, Aleu was so tired she would have been thankful for sharp stones to sleep on. But she had to trudge on; if she didn’t, she would freeze to death. Continuing to walk kept her blood warm, but her body was so frozen that she couldn’t feel sections of it. Her ears and parts of her tail were frostbitten, she was sure of it.
Finally she got up to the third and final mountain. The wind and the snow died almost instantly, giving her a chance to open her eyes once more. And what she saw took her breath away.
A great valley of snow covered the base of the mountain, stretching as far as she could see, disappearing beyond the northern horizon. To her left was the sea, and to her right were more mountains.
Finally, the sea! she thought. She knew that following the sea provided fewer risks, and all she had to do was follow it and it would take her home. She started running down the mountain.
About halfway down, the path became steep, and soon Aleu found herself rolling down the mountain rather than running down. Then, without warning, the path evaporated into thin air, which she found herself falling through.
As the ground came closer and closer, she felt gravity escape her. She continued her spin, and saw the world fly by her in short circles, and it was not long before she hit the snow far below.
The snow cushioned her fall, but even so, Aleu fell over one hundred feet, and the impact knocked the air out of her. However, after recovering, she quickly felt herself over and realized, to her surprise, that she had escaped serious injury.
But that was all she could do, before a black object appeared above her. Before she could react, she found herself pinned underneath another wolf.
The wolf glared at her, his yellow eyes threatening to penetrate her very soul. “Do not think I won’t kill you, half-breed,” he threatened.
Aleu tried to wrestle free of his grip, but to no avail; she was weak from the fall, and besides that, he was much larger than she.
She decided to try and talk herself out of her situation instead. “How do you know I’m only half wolf?” she inquired, as much an honest question to satisfy her curiosity as it was a distraction.
The wolf did not back off. If anything, he pressed against Aleu all the more, rendering her limbs immobile. “I know much about you, Aleu daughter of Balto.”
The revelation caught her off-guard. “But how—”
“You stole my pack from me,” he continued. “You came three years ago, and stole what was rightfully mine!”
Aleu gasped; she knew who this wolf was. “But that’s not possible.”
The wolf snorted. “Anything is possible,” he responded, finally letting Aleu go. He backed off only a single step, however, indicating he was still prepared to attack her.