“Sylvie, you couldn’t keep a secret to save your life!”

Jenna left next, saying she was going to see what Balto was up to.

Saba stood in the room for a long time, obviously considering something carefully. When she finally went, too, Dakota sighed, jumping down the crates and padding out onto the street. The carols were stuck inside her now, and she absently hummed a few bars of ‘Carol of the Bells’. She even dared to sing the words aloud, just to hear the song and let it make her heart soar.

“You!”

Dakota whirled around to see Saba leap out from behind a log pile.

Saba marched up to her and looked her straight in the eye. “You were the one singing at rehearsal yesterday! Dakota, you have an amazing voice! We need you!”

“No.” It was the only word that would come to Dakota’s mind. The rest of her brain was as frozen and barren as the tundra.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t go all shy about this!” Saba exclaimed, “You sing better than me, Sylvie, or Dixie, maybe even better than Mom! You have to sing with us!”

Dakota felt herself blushing. She couldn’t remember ever getting so much praise, but she was stubborn. “I won’t.”

Saba’s eyebrow went up mockingly. “Why not?”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? I told you, your voice is awesome-”

“I can’t.” Dakota could feel herself trembling. “I can’t because Dad doesn’t deserve to hear me sing! A father shouldn’t have favorites, right? Right?”

“Well, yeah, but-” Saba stammered.

“Well, our father has a favorite!” Dakota shouted, “Remember? And now that Aleu’s gone, you would think he would start paying attention to some of his other children! But no, it’s like Aleu’s still here, because Dad’s too busy missing her to give us any attention! He won’t hear me sing tonight, or any other night! I hate him!” And out it spilled, all the anger and malice and hate she had stirred up inside until now, when it reached the boiling point. She ranted about the past, about living in her sister’s shadow, even about the moment Aleu had ruined between Balto and Dakota. At first Saba looked simply taken aback, and then she got a thoughtful expression on her face as she listened to her sister.

Finally, when Dakota was gasping for breath and close to tears, Saba spoke up. “When you say Dad’s ignoring us, don’t you mean you?”

Too overwhelmed to speak, Dakota shrugged angrily.

“Aleu was Dad’s favorite, but it makes sense,” Saba explained, “She’s different from us. She needed the extra support. And Dad knew what she was going through, so I think that brought them closer. I don’t blame Dad for spending so much time with Aleu, and neither should you. Dad knows what he’s doing. He didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. Oh, Dakota!” Saba sighed in exasperation as her sister continued to glower, “Look, Dad has a lot of dogs to love. There’s Mom, and us kids, and it’s hard to split love equally seven different ways. If he ignores you, it’s not on purpose. He’s doing the best he can!”

“Then I guess his best isn’t good enough,” Dakota spat.

Saba’s face was enraged. “You know, you’re being a little too sensitive about all this. Who cares if you’re not Dad’s favorite?”

“I don’t want to be his favorite!” Dakota cried, “I would just like to be noticed once in awhile!”

“Oh, I give up,” Saba growled, padding away. When she was almost out of sight, she called over her shoulder, “If you learn to grow up, come and sing with us tonight.”

Dakota glared at her sister’s retreating form, but sighed in exhaustion as Saba vanished from the scene. ‘Yep, I’ve really improved things for myself,’ she thought bitterly, ‘As well as Dad still not having a clue what’s going on, Saba’s mad at me, and she’ll probably blab what I told her to somebody, too, and soon everyone in town will think I’m a whining, insensitive spoiled brat.’ This put her in even lower spirits, and she plodded away with her head down, not caring about where she was going or anyone she banged into along the way.

As darkness set in, amber and emerald and ruby and sapphire lights lit the town in windows, on houses, and over any tree in sight. Dakota barely noticed. Her paws carried her to the town square, to the foot of the giant tree, where she sat and gazed up at the towering pine.

Jewel-colored lights wove through its needles branches, and bright ornaments shimmered and sparkled on the prickly boughs. Atop the trees shone a golden star, its pointed rays reaching outward as if to embrace the world with its light. On the ground half-hidden beneath the lowest branches, Dakota was pleased to see a nativity scene, complete with a stable and all the necessary figures who knelt before a tiny baby in a tiny manger.

Sitting there in the almost holy silence, she felt her anger simmer away, leaving room for questions to flit around her mind, questions that she had always had but never gotten answered: ‘Why do humans put a tree in their house for Christmas? Who came up with that idea?’ ‘Will there always be arguments over religion during the holidays?’ ‘What does the manger mean?’ ‘Can there ever be such a thing as peace on Earth?’

Around and around her musings went, as lights flickered on all over Nome and stars like diamonds drew patterns across the inky sky. A radio somewhere quietly played ‘Silent Night’ as Dakota found something else besides anger inside her; for a moment she felt calm.

Her own thoughts and Saba’s words rang emptily through her head as she curled up under the tree with her nose touching the manger. All of a sudden she felt drained, and all she wanted was to rest near this beautiful little scene and let the world go on without her for a little while. That would be a relief. That would be a relief…

Dakota’s brown eyes blinked open at the cool voice on the radio: “It’s 5:55, with more of your holiday favorites…”

Her head snapped up, and she sprang up, knocking a shiny round ornament to the ground, where it cracked in two. Regret at the loss of such a pretty thing picked at her as her mind raced. Would she go to the celebration? Her dad would be there, and Saba…

Dakota lurched forward and pounded through the streets, skidding at the corners, her eyes tearing from the wind and cold. If anything, she would see how the performance went. That was all she was there for. Nothing else.

When the mill came in sight, she saw it was packed. She started padding faster, and slipped inside to creep among the dogs and squeeze into the center of the audience. A space had been cleared at the back of the room for Jenna and her girls to perform, and they were all huddled there now, whispering. Dakota guessed they were preparing themselves for their show.

The place was lit by the buildings’ lights and lanterns across the street, bathing everyone in a mellow glow. There was a buzz of conversation hovering in the air, but as soon as Doc trudged to the back of the room and cleared his throat, quiet fell like a curtain.

“First of all, Merry Christmas!” Doc called out.

“Merry Christmas!” nearly everyone chorused back, these including Dakota.

“To honor this special night, some ladies have volunteered to sing for us to make this occasion even greater than usual,” Doc said in his deep voice, “They’ve been working on these carols for a long time, so please give a big welcome to Jenna, Sylvie, Dixie, and Saba!”

Doc turned away, and Saba leapt forward. “Before we start, I’d like to ask one more amazing singer to the stage: Dakota, could you get up here?”

The silence cut so loud Dakota could hear ringing in her ears. She watched as if from behind different eyes as Jenna shot Saba a disapproving glare, Sylvie and Dixie gasped silently, and Saba stared at her hard. Slowly, through the shock Dakota understood. This was more of a challenge than a question. This was Saba’s way of saying, “So you think Dad doesn’t give you enough attention? Here’s a chance to get his attention. Take it, if you’ve got the guts!”

In a daze, Dakota took a step forward. A path formed rigidly through the crowd, and Dakota gritted her teeth against the stares as she continued walking. She felt like she was swimming through tar all the way up the path, and by the time she was standing beside Saba she was clenching her teeth so hard she thought her face would crack.

“You’ll thank me later,” Saba murmured to her.

“I’ll kill you later, is what I’ll do,” Dakota muttered back.

Ignoring that, Saba continued as if everything was completely normal. “Right,” she said, “Well, the first song we’re doing is ‘Carol of the Bells’.”

Jenna was still frowning, but she seemed to resign herself to the situation and softly counted off, “One, two, three, and-”

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells…”

Each of the stares aimed at Dakota’s face felt like a burning ember, singing her fur and making her face turn red. She refused to look at anyone, gazing out the window at the feathery snow beginning to fall. She was determined not to sing, not to give in to Saba’s plan. But she had never heard the music so close before, and never as magnificent and wondrous as now. It was