out about the failure of Johnson’s dog-sled team, and he would want to know why. And Copper would have to confess his hatred of racing. He pushed these thoughts away as the team neared the entrance of the Borealis Fights building.

“Hey, kid. Don’t forget that message to my mate, alright?” Storm reminded him once again. “If I’m killed in the fights, you gotta give other dogs that message and explain what happened, so ones heading for White Mountain can tell her.”

Copper took a deep breath and recited what he had memorized. “Daisy lives in White Mountain. Her mate Storm wants to send her this message: ‘If someone’s tell-’”

“That’s good,” Storm cut him off, “I can tell you know the rest…and don’t you forget it. You’re the only dog here that looks trustworthy enough to handle that message. You’ve got my faith in you, kid…just don’t forget the message.”

“You know I won’t,” Copper said, thinking, ‘How could anyone forget something like that?’

“Whoa!” the driver yelled, and the dogs stopped beside the building. The men started to climb out. Copper noticed there were more than usual, seven to the normal five, Johnson included. Two German shepherds jumped down from the sleigh. There obviously hadn’t been room for them on the team, so they had had to stand in the sleigh with the people.

“Do you usually have a lot of new people coming to the fights?”

“More people have been coming recently, but I wouldn’t worry about it. It seems like the news of the Northern Fights has been spreading, and it’s being kept quiet because more people want extra money or need money, or they’re just coming for fun. If you want something to worry about, worry about their dogs. They sure don’t look like they’re ready for a fight!” Storm replied. The German shepherds looked carefully groomed and wore new black leather collars. Something about them made Copper apprehensive, like he was being watched. He shuddered when Storm was looking the other way; he didn’t want anyone else knowing he was afraid, even if it was only a little bit.

A fat hand came down and struck Storm across the face. The husky didn’t make a sound, but the pain multiplied in his brown eyes.

“You better do your best tonight, ya dumb dog! Get me some money or you’ll feel the whip when we get home!” Copper could tell by the husky’s face that Storm would get whipped no matter what.

The two dogs were unharnessed and Johnson showed up again, and they walked to the entrance. Tonight there was absolutely no security, and Copper looked around to see where Marcus was. He was nowhere in sight. “Security seems a little low tonight.”

“They’re getting lazy,” Storm muttered, “These fights have been open for more than a year and we’ve never had any police here. They’re tired of doing security when they never get caught. I wonder if Carson knows…Hey, kid.” Copper looked up at the older husky. Storm’s eyes seemed to have softened. There was less pain. “I really mean it when I say I hope you survive the fights each night. You’re a great kid, and the world’ll miss out if you don’t make it. Your folks must be really proud of you, always looking out for everybody else.”

Storm’s caring statement made one tiny tear come to Copper’s eye, but he hardened when he thought of his parents. What would Jenna think of him? He had broken his promise to her. ‘ “Promise me you won’t get into anymore fights.” “Okay, okay, I promise.” ’ And here he was, getting involved in the biggest fighting ring in Alaska. And what about Balto? He wanted Copper to race, not rumble. And Kaila? She thought his life was perfect with an owner and no one making fun of him. She didn’t know the half of what he was going through.

With a darkening heart, Copper followed Storm into the building. Carson was already on the stage, and everything went as last night. Carson introduced the newcomers, which one or two seemed to have come in on every sleigh, and to Copper that seemed suspicious, but even then no one else seemed worried. Then the fights began. Carson rubbed his hands together and said, “Let’s start with last night’s near-champion against someone else…Rupert’s Hawk versus Matthews’ Storm!”

Copper was beginning to get fed up with Carson’s random choosing. Even dogs like Storm that were…well, FANTASTIC at fighting needed a break! But there was nothing Copper could do about it, so he just nodded to Storm in a gesture saying ‘good luck.’ Storm nodded back, and Copper turned his attention to Hawk as the two dogs were thrown into the ring. The brown-splotched white husky was blind in one eye, but he was younger and had more energy because he hadn’t fought last night. Storm was older, and he was still worn out from fighting the night before. The chances weren’t good for Copper’s friend.

Hawk suddenly looked Copper’s way, and he grinned maliciously when he found his enemy in the crowd. Copper got the message and glared back: Hawk knew Storm was a friend of Copper’s, and so he was going to do his best to tear him apart.

The bets had been placed, and someone in the crowd yelled, “C’mon, fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” The chant was picked up, and it went around until the whole crowd was screaming, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” And all Copper could do was stand outside the fence and ignore the words of Storm’s message to Daisy throbbing through his brain.

The fight didn’t seem to last very long at all, to Copper, though it must have gone on for at least a quarter of an hour. All he saw was Hawk’s flashing teeth and nails and Storm’s pained eyes and all he heard was the muffled scuffling and the muted yelps from Hawk and the crowd’s chanting and all he smelled was mud and blood and sweat and all he tasted was the metal taste in his mouth and all he felt was empty. He couldn’t feel anything at all, just emptiness, just blackness…just like he’d wished for.

Storm was on top of Hawk, and they were growling and rolling around in uneven circles and blurring themselves into one big, furry, fighting ball. It was like watching a blizzard, packed into one tight space. Gray, white, brown, white, gray, white, brown, gray, brown, round and round and round…and then dripping red…

Suddenly the hurricane stopped. Copper sent a dog crashing face-down into the floor in his eagerness to see what had happened. Hawk was standing over Storm, burning into him with those cold eyes. Storm looked back up defiantly at his opponent, but his eyes were glazing over. A muscle in his face twitched, and his eyelids fluttered closed as Hawk backed away triumphantly to reveal scarlet blood spurting up out of the gray husky’s chest with every solid beat of his heart.

Time stopped for Copper. All was lost in the emptiness and shock of the moment, as it slowly formed the ashes of reality. All that could be heard was Storm’s labored breathing and the hesitant pumping of his heart…

Then time sped up in lightning bolt seconds as Copper’s mind tried to keep up with his body’s actions. Before he knew it he had run as hard as he could and jumped the metal fence circling around the ring, his stomach cutting along the sharp metal points at the top, and he landed in the ring and ran up to Storm. His mind was slow and stupid, not wanting to believe what had happened, but his heart felt pain he wished he would never feel again. Something was tearing apart slowly, painfully, inside him. Copper leaned down close to Storm’s head. He felt the weakening breaths on his face and with a tiny burst of hope he whispered hoarsely, “Storm! Storm!”

“Kid.” The gray husky didn’t open his eyes, but he spoke. Copper couldn’t believe it when the pain in his chest increased. He choked out, “Is this…it?”

“Looks like it,” Storm replied in a calm tone. “Hey, kid, don’t forget my message to Daisy, okay?”

“You know I won’t,” Copper said hoarsely. Storm smiled, but the corners of his mouth turned down in pain for a second. “Thanks, kid.”

Copper suddenly felt tired of staying anonymous. Storm had become his greatest friend, and the husky didn’t even know Copper’s real name. The wolf-dog was seized with the urge for someone at the Fights to know the truth.

“My name’s not ‘kid’,” Copper said, “It’s Copper. Comet’s just a phony name my owner made up.” Then, because he knew it would matter even though he wished it didn’t, he muttered in a softer tone, “I’m Balto’s son.”

Storm’s eyes shot open, and there was a light in them that Copper had never seen before. The light seemed to come from inside, and not from the reflecting flashes from the lanterns hung around the room. “Balto?” Storm murmured, his brown eyes shining, “I’ve always wanted to meet Balto. Every dog up here knows his story, but…meeting his kid is just as good.” His bright eyes turned up to Copper’s, and Copper could tell he was fading. “He’d be very proud of you. I bet you’re just like him, in many ways…but you know what. Even if you weren’t Balto’s son, I’m glad I met you, Copper. You’re one heck of a dog all by yourself, Balto’s pup or not.”

“Thanks, Storm,” Copper said, and he