CHAPTER 1

THE ONE THING that Aleu wanted most in the world was to see her father again. She had not seen him in three years, and he was never far from her mind—he and the rest of Nome, everyone and everything else she left behind years ago.
Every night, when she fell asleep, she thought of them. No matter how hard she tried, she could not avoid it. She thought of her father and mother, her siblings, her friends, her favorite places…
But she couldn’t ever see them again. She could not leave the wolf pack, not even for a little while. She was their leader, after all, and as their leader, they were her priority.
Aleu was hundreds of miles away from Nome, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Three years ago, she had run away from Nome, angry at her father for keeping a secret from her for her entire life. The resulting journey had turned into a quest—a quest for self-identity, which led her to a wolf pack in need of a leader. And just when her father had shown up and volunteered, she realized that it was her place to lead.
But why?
Nava had told her that she had been destined to lead the pack, to take on the full identity of a wolf, but she had never wanted this. She missed her family, her home back in Alaska—and with each passing day, this responsibility seemed more and more like a burden than a gift.
Her thoughts ran wild as she tried going to sleep. She had been tossing and turning for over an hour now, with no luck. Resigned to the possibility that sleep would not come tonight, Aleu slowly got up and walked over to the nearby water stream. The pale crescent moon hovered near the horizon, turning orange as it began to set. It slight reflected off the water, allowing her to see with almost perfect vision.
As she began to drink, she continued to let her thoughts run free. She knew the meaning of “destiny,” and she didn’t like it one bit. If it was her destiny to lead this wolf pack, did that mean she even had a say in the matter? Or was she doomed to live here, against her will, for the rest of her life?
Angry, she slapped the water, splashing herself on the face. She didn’t care.
She almost felt as if her wolf quest were not over, even over three years after it had begun. She longed to go home. She didn’t care if there was nobody to adopt her in Nome, nor that she could never show her face in public ever again. She just wanted to go home and be happy.
Back when she was young, she thought that finding a home would make her happy—that a home would make her feel complete. And yet, her life was not complete, without her family. She couldn’t even remember the last time she saw her mother or siblings, and she had long regretted never saying goodbye to them.
It had been three years since she had left the Alaska shoreline and arrived on this island. Three years since she had last seen her father, though she dreamed about him occasionally. In one dream, she saw him saving a dog from being killed by Saba—such a dream was unrealistic; Saba would never threaten anybody. In another dream, she saw Kodi’s job being threatened by an airplane, and her father saving the day. A more recent dream showed Tydye giving birth to pups.
I wonder what they’ve really done since I left?
The more she thought about it, the more she desired to leave. But she had led this pack of wolves—nearly doubling in size since she started—for over three years, and knew that she would continue to do so until she died. There was no way out of it….
She sighed. It is my destiny. She walked back to her sleeping quarters—a small patch of soft grass, surrounded by the strongest of the pack’s wolves, which served as her bodyguards—and lay back down.
To her relief, sleep arrived very soon afterwards.

Aleu jerked awake to the sound of howling wolves. She bolted to her feet and looked in the direction the howls came from.
Already, her four bodyguards were awake and surrounding her, standing in preparation for something to go amok. “What’s going on?” she asked.
The one directly beside her, Snape, responded first. “We first heard the howl about twenty minutes ago from that direction, but thought nothing of it. Then we heard it again ten minutes ago, but it was coming from over there.” He pointed in the exact opposite direction. “And now we’re hearing it from in front of us as well.”
Aleu’s mind was fully awake now, so it did not take long for her to think of an explanation. “Do you mean…?” She gulped, realizing there was only one possible reason for the howling.
“It means we’re surrounded,” another guard, Taku, confirmed solemnly. “And by the sounds of it, there are far more wolves than we can hope to fight.”
“Already ahead of you,” Aleu replied, stepping out of their circle. “We won’t fight.”
By now, the rest of the wolves in the pack were up and gathering around her. They whispered to each other, their voices betraying the terror within them. Most of the wolves were old, few worthy of a fight, but all unwilling to surrender. When they heard Aleu’s remark, they grew silent and stared at her, waiting for further words.
Aleu had them ready. “We will not fight them. We will wait for them to appear, and see how many there are. If there are less than us, we will offer them a place in our pack—as has happened many times in the past with some of you now among us.”
“And if there are more wolves than us?” someone asked.
Snape whispered in her ear. “And there are more wolves, Aleu. Just hearing the number of howls will tell you that.”
Aleu gulped, dreading the exact number of wolves they were now up against. “If there are more than us, then we will see what they wish to do with us. If we are able, we will simply move to a new location, or give them what they want.”
“What if they want to kill us?” another wolf asked.
“Then we run,” Aleu responded. Before she could add anything else, the wolf howl sounded again—far closer this time.
“Everyone, I have the word on what happens,” Aleu reminded them, before the entirety of the pack turned around to face the woods.
The woods completely surrounded the pack on all sides, except the small part where the stream flowed. They were densely packed, to the point where the approaching wolves could be on the very edge of the woods, on all sides, and they would remain hidden until they leapt out.
After a few tense seconds, however, a lone wolf emerged from the woods closest to Aleu. He was obviously large, strong, and young—something very few of the wolves from the pack could match. And since he was black, it was all they could do to make him out in the night.
“I’m seeking the leader of this pack,” the wolf called out, his approach steady and quick.
Another of Aleu’s bodyguards, Pyura, stepped forward. “I am the leader,” he called, obeying his previous orders from Aleu to act as decoy in such a case.
The black wolf approached all the quicker, finally coming to a full run. He stopped mere inches from Pyura, growls escaping his lips. “Do you think I am a fool?” Before Pyura could answer, the wolf bit down on his throat and threw him aside, an deadly action that took less than three seconds.
The pack, including Aleu, gasped at the action. Pyura was one of the best warriors in the entire pack, and in just three seconds he had been killed.
The wolf glared at the other wolves. “Do you think I am a fool?” he asked again, this time in a much lower voice. He started pacing among the wolves, eyeing them as he went. “The tales have spread to far-off lands, of the one who is wolf but does not know. The she-wolf who was once a dog—a dog who lived in a place no living wolf has seen—and abandoned it all to lead a pitiful pack. And now, for three years, she has led you, and I wish to see her.” He walked straight up to Aleu, looking into her eyes. He smiled. “And here she is.”
Unable to hide her identity, Aleu gulped and stood as tall as possible. “What do you want with me, and with my pack?” she asked.
The wolf, who seemed to like walking while talking, began to pace circles around Aleu, ignoring the warning growls from the three remaining bodyguards. “You had a home once, didn’t you, dog?” he asked in a quite voice, almost quiet enough to be a whisper. “I wish to know where that home is. I have an army—one so large, you cannot begin to imagine what it is capable of. I wish to find your home, and claim it for myself.”
Aleu froze, aware of how serious the threat was. “Why would you want to do that?” she asked.
The wolf stopped in front of her face. “That is not your business,” he snapped. “And if you value the safety of your pack, you will give me the location of your old home. Remember what I said about my army.”
Aleu glared at him. “My home,” she snorted, “is with my pack.”
The wolf remained silent for a few seconds, before nodding. “As you wish,” he whispered, before he raised his head and howled. Then he looked back at Aleu. “Then I will destroy this home, too.” 
Aleu quickly yelled to her pack, “Prepare for attack!” She was unable to get anything else out, for the black wolf was all over her in an instant.
She knew how to defend herself, but this wolf fought with such brute strength, she was barely able to keep her ground. The wolf bit at her, scratched her, threw his body against her—all at the same time. Soon Aleu began losing ground, being pushed farther and farther back.
She was 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 nuts!”
“That’s because she twisted her ankle during her race yesterday,” Balto replied in a whisper.
Jenna growled. “Don’t you get it?” she snapped. “Aleu is gone. Gone, Balto. So stop feeling sorry for yourself!”
Balto reacted as if he was hit with a baseball. “I…” He lowered his head. “I’m sorry…I’m not so good at hiding my true emotions, am I?”
Jenna shook her head. “You’re better at outwitting a fox.”
Balto sighed. Then, suddenly, he jumped up. “Oh, I remember now!”
“Remember what?” Jenna asked.
“I remember my dream!” Balto exclaimed. “In my dream, I saw Aleu being led through the mountains by a mouse. It was about the wackiest thing I’ve ever seen! Could you imagine…Aleu…befriending a mouse?” He started laughing.
Jenna only stared.
Balto’s laughing slowly stopped. Embarrassed, he asked, “So, how was your night?”
Jenna smiled, glad to finally move on to a new topic. “Oh, same old same old. I dreamed about some cat chasing my tail…” She looked out to the horizon. “And so I had to chase it down. It ended up that the cat got away and I was chasing my own tail. Weird, huh?”
Balto didn’t respond. A quick look and Jenna realized it was because he had fallen back asleep.
She sighed. Maybe I should go back to chasing my tail again.

Aleu clawed her way onto the shore, gasping for breath. The stream had turned into a river not long after she surrendered herself to it, and the river quickly fed into the ocean soon afterwards. 
Once she finally reached the ocean, Aleu was able to fight the current enough to make it to dry land. Even so, she barely had enough strength to pull herself far enough in to avoid the tide, before losing control of her muscles and collapsing in a wet, furry heap.
Even though she was exhausted, she forced herself to stay conscious; if the rogue wolves found out she wasn’t dead, then they would be looking for her, and it wouldn’t take long for them to find her.
Even so, she felt she deserved a rest.
Her heart was heavy with sadness. The pack she had led for three years—and the members within that she had grown to know and love—had all of a sudden been wiped out. In a matter of minutes, they were all dead.
And I should be among them.
Tears filled her eyes, and she began to cry. I should have been the first one to die, she thought, ridden with guilt. I am—was—their leader. I should have been the one to die first, I should have insisted they kill me. It was my responsibility, and I failed.
She angrily slapped the ground with her paw, repeating I failed in her mind over and over again.
In the midst of her sadness, she found herself asking the inevitable question: Why did I survive? Why was I alone spared?
She had matured quite a bit in the past three years of her life, but even so, she could not help but feel like she had been missed by accident. That had to be it; she was positive that it was an accident she had survived. What else could there possibly be for her to do now?
Thinking about it only caused her to cry all the more.
Aleu was so busy crying, she didn’t even notice the ground beneath her break away from the shore and begin floating into the sea. It wasn’t until she was several hundred feet into the ocean that she realized something wasn’t right.
She brushed aside her tears and looked around. The ground wasn’t ground at all; it was a giant slab of ice, covered over with mud and leaves. And it wasn’t the only iceberg, either; there were dozens of others, floating together and forming a line that led out to the horizon.
Out loud, Aleu gasped, “It’s the ice bridge!”
The bridge formed every year, but usually it came much later; it was forming a full month ahead of time. And it didn’t even reach all the way to land; it stopped exactly where she was now.
She stood to her feet, unsure of how to react to the situation. Her mind ran wild, and she could only come to one logical conclusion: the bridge was now forming just for her, to lead her back to Alaska.
It almost seemed too good to be true. After all, Aleu had not been in Alaska for three years—and she had barely spent a year there before leaving. However much she had wanted to go back in the past, she had never thought it could happen. And now it seemed as if she was meant to go back.
“Aniu, what do you want for me to do?” she whispered.
And then, after another few seconds of thought, she made her decision. She ran across the ice, made a giant leap, and landed on the next piece. And again. And again.
And at long last, Aleu was going home.

 CHAPTER 3

THE SUN SHONE through the window, hurting Balto’s eyes and waking him up. He looked around the room, realizing that neither Aleu nor the mouse he dreamed about was there. He sighed, but didn’t say anything aloud. Remember what Jenna said: keep your thoughts to yourself.
A voice suddenly came from outside the window. “Ah, no! No, no, no, no, no!” After a shuffling sort of sound, the voice yelled, “Balto, help!”
Balto smiled, getting up and looking out the window. Outside, Boris was desperately trying to outrun Muk and Luk, who were desperately trying to catch up to him. Balto couldn’t help but laugh at the scene.
Boris looked at him. “What are you laughing at, hyena?” he yelled in his slight Russian accent. The distraction gave the two polar bears just enough time to catch up to him. As Muk tackled him, Luk tackled Muk.
Balto laughed all the more.
“Enough, bears!” Boris shouted in desperation. “I am dizzy and exhausted. Get off of me!” Finally, the bears obeyed. Boris sighed in relief. “That…is better,” he said, stepping a foot to the right.
…and landing in a hole in the snow.
Balto continued to chuckle, and the bears soon joined him. “Do it again, Uncle Boris!” Muk shouted. “That was funny!”
Boris pulled himself up, trying to get a grip on the dew-covered grass. “That was not funny.”
Balto stopped his laughing long enough to shout, “Hey, Boris, could you do me a favor and not be silly for at least one day in your life?”
Boris looked up, noticing Balto for the first time. “Oh, Balto! Thank goodness you’re here. Could you kindly tell the bears to…” He turned to look at the bears, his voice rising once more. “Stop stealing my stuff!”
Luk gave a chirp. Muk translated, also speaking for himself, “What stuff, Uncle Boris?” His voice was innocent.
Boris stared at them. “Where should I begin? My pinfeathers, my wings, or your attempt at my beak?”
“The beak, please!” Muk shouted, Luk joining him. “That one was the most fun, by far!”
Balto shook his head, ducking back into his boat. Some things, he realized, would never change. This was one of those things.
And then he remembered, it was the sun that had awakened him. Usually, he had a plywood board over the window to block the sun; it especially came in handy during the long summer days. But now, the plywood window wasn’t there. A quick look at the ground caused Balto to stare in horror.
On the ground, beside his boat, was the plywood board—in millions of tiny pieces. And there could only be two culprits.
Balto hopped down, landed on the soft snow, and walked over to Muk and Luk. “Okay, which one of you did this?”
Muk and Luk froze, allowing Boris to waddle away, mumbling to himself. They turned to face Balto with looks of guilt. “Balto,” Muk said, “I have a confession to make.” He quickly pointed  at Luk. “It was him!” When Luk whinnied in protest, he asked, “What do you mean, it was me?”
Balto sighed, uninterested in prolonging this debate. “Do you realize that that window was the only way to keep the sun out of my eyes? If it keeps waking me up, then I can’t stay asleep, now can I?” When he didn’t get an immediate response, he sighed again. “Okay, you win. Go and tackle your uncle Boris and do me a favor.”
The two bears—thrilled at the chance to play with the goose—ran away from Balto and toward the direction Boris had disappeared.
Balto smiled, then groaned as he turned back to face his window. How will I get a good night’s sleep if I don’t have a window cover? There’ll be lights all over, and I’ll never stay asleep with them dancing around my eyes. He sighed. Well, all good things must come to an end, I suppose. Maybe I could…make something up.
He started by looking around inside his boat—both below deck and above deck—but couldn’t find anything that would work. The closest thing was a sheet that covered only the left side of the window. That wouldn’t work for two reasons: one, the sun always appeared in the right side first, and two, the sheet was Balto’s blanket, and he was not about to give it up so easily.
He finally decided to start taking boards off his ship—the ones that weren’t necessary, such as a stair or two—and nail them onto the window’s frame. He pried the boards off their place with his claws, then using another board to hammer in nails. This he did for only a few minutes before he stopped, too exhausted to go on. Why me? he found himself wondering.
After a few more minutes, he started again, before promptly stopping and deciding it would never work, and walked outside. To his surprise, he saw Saba there.
“Good morning, Pa,” she called.
Balto looked up at the sun. “Uh…good afternoon, Saba.” He left his boat and began walking up to her. “What in the world are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be practicing for your race?”
Saba raised her front paw. “I sprained it yesterday,” she explained. “My musher told me to take it easy, and maybe it’ll heal in a week.”
Balto grimaced; he had sprained his own foot too many times to count. “Must’ve been painful,” he murmured.
Saba nodded. “My pads will never be the same.” She took a minute to look her father over. “Are you all right? You look awful.”
“I’m fine,” Balto said. “It’s just…” He looked back at his boat. “Muk and Luk broke my window. Now I’m going to have an even harder time getting to sleep.”
Saba looked up at the boat. “Perhaps you could fix it.”
“Perhaps I’ve already tried.” Balto sighed once more. “I’ve got to face it: my life is meant to be lived in peace-less solitude.”
Saba stared at him. “Solitude? Are you aware of what kind of celebrity you’ve become? Every single dog in town loves you now!” He chuckled. “And it’s affected me as well; hardly a day goes by when I’m not teased for being the daughter of a hero.”
Balto looked into her blue eyes. “All I want right now is to get a good night’s sleep and a good morning’s sleep-in.”
“Yeah,” Saba said with a snort and a smile. “Like that’s ever going to happen.” She looked back at the boat. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll help you fix that window, if…” She stopped in mid-sentence.
“If what?”
“If you make sure that Aleu’s name is not mentioned for the next week at least,” Saba finished.
Balto stared at her. “You’ve been talking with your mother, haven’t you?” When Saba just smiled and nodded, he chuckled. “All right, it’s a deal.”

By the end of the day, Saba and Balto had gathered enough wood to only cover a few inches of the window; that was all they could find.
As they were trying to put the wood up onto the window—quite unsuccessfully—Boris walked up to them. “Good afternoon, Balto and…Balto’s Daughter.”
“Saba,” Saba corrected, a little annoyed.
“Right, Maya,” Boris said. “Sorry, I can’t seem to remember your name.”
Before Saba could retort, Balto quickly spoke up. “What do you want, Boris?”
“I came to see what you two were up to.” He looked at the window, and then looked at the small pile of wood below the window. Then he turned to face Balto. “You’re going to cover the window with that?” He chuckled. “That would never work.”
“We’re going to make it work,” Balto said, trying to stick two pieces of wood together just right so that they would fit snugly in place. It didn’t work, and the wood fell back down to the ground.
Boris smiled. “Oh, yes, I can see that.”
Saba turned to him. “Uncle Boris, would you please stop pestering us so we can do this? We’re on a roll.”
A piece of wood that she had previously set into the window fell out, landing right next to the board that previously fell.
Boris stared at her, and then shrugged. “If you say so.” He smiled, and turned back to Balto. “You know, you only have to ask me, and I’m sure I could come up with something. After all, if I wasn’t your guardian, you’d be living on the streets!”
“Boris,” Balto replied, “one time—because you are my guardian—I was living on the streets.”
Boris gulped when Saba started chuckling. Then, when her chuckling became uncontrollable laughter, he speechlessly started walking away. Shouting back, he said, “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
Saba stopped her laughing long enough to say, “He’s right, you know,” to her father.
Balto sighed. “I know, I know. But what else can we do?” He looked back at his small pile of wood. “This is all we can find.”
“Out here,” Saba said. “But we haven’t gone into town yet; we could look there. There’s got to be some amount of wood there.”
Balto turned to look at her. “Saba, that won’t…” His voice trailed off. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he smiled. “You know…that is a good idea.” With that, he started running into town, Saba close behind.

CHAPTER 4

THE SUN WAS coming up over the eastern horizon by the time Aleu crawled onto the beach. The ice had completely melted hours ago, and it was only by sheer strength and determination that she had managed to swim the rest of the thirty miles to shore.
The trip seemed to take longer this time than it had three years ago. Perhaps her perception was changed, since before she was leading the pack, and now she was all alone. Or perhaps the journey really did take longer.
After all, she had been in no rush. She hopped from ice block to ice block, walking whenever she could. She took several breaks, mostly to help calm her mind and let the reality of her situation sink in.
She found herself thinking quite a lot during her trip across the ice—one that took all day and most of the night. She found herself asking less questions about why she survived, and more about who the black wolf was, and why he wanted to find her home. She didn’t have any answers, and she made sure she was not being followed as she traveled, so there was no way to know.
Aleu hoped she would never find out; it might not be an answer she would like.
Unfortunately, she had taken so much time to think, that she barely noticed the ice melting as she went. In fact, it was only when she had to begin swimming between ice floats, that she realized they were getting smaller.
That had caused her to quicken her pace, but it was not enough to ensure a safe journey to the Alaskan shoreline. All too soon, the ice became too small to support her weight, and she had to swim the remaining distance of thirty miles.
And now, after hours of swimming, she had finally made it. As she crawled onto the sandy shore, half-drowned and only half-awake, she let herself simply slide onto the sand, breathing in gulps of air while trying to make her legs stop trembling. It took a long while, but eventually she was able to relax and enjoy the pleasure of the moment.
A break was something Aleu welcomed. Her limbs were sore, her muscles ached, and her skin so wrinkled it felt horrible. She lay on her side, smiling with satisfaction as the rising sun beat down on her. She felt as if she could stay here forever.
And why not? After all, my pack doesn’t need me anymore, and my family in Nome doesn’t even know that I’m on my way. I can start a completely new life; I can find a brand-new home, and nobody would have to know about it.
The thought intrigued Aleu, and she pondered it for a few minutes. I could go find a new wolf pack, or I can create a whole new one with a lone male. Or I can find a human town and become a pet… Her thoughts trailed away when she remembered that no human would want her, because she looked like a wolf.
She was a wolf. And so she was doomed to live the life of a wolf.
But I don’t even know how to be a regular wolf. I’ve only ever led wolf packs, and I doubt any other pack would let me do that. I can’t do anything else but lead.
For the first time in a long time, Aleu did not know what she wanted. She closed her eyes, hoping to increase her concentration. Come on, Aleu. What do you want? Even if it’s not to be a wolf, what do you want?
She thought only for a few seconds, before she realized what she wanted. I want to go home, and see my family.
A sense of calm overcame her, and she smiled as she realized she was making the right choice.
After another hour, she felt rested enough to get up and start on her journey again. Up ahead of her, standing thousands of feet in the air, were numerous mountains. She groaned, not looking forward to crossing all of them.
As she began walking, her stomach began to growl. At first, she grew depressed, remembering that it had been over a day and a half since she had eaten last. And there was no food to be found in the vicinity of the area; that’s why the wolf pack had to leave to begin with.
But just as she was about to accept the fact that she would have to go another day without food, a cry rang through the air. Aleu raised her head, looking to see what had caused the noise.
A raven was flying overhead, heading toward a small cave to the north. It circled in the air once, crying at Aleu when it faced her, and then continued on its flight.
Aleu, more curious than hopeful, decided to follow the raven; it obviously wanted her to follow, and she had nothing better to do at the moment.
The raven led her to the cave, and she gasped when she looked inside. A single caribou, very old and slim, was lying inside, seeming to be asleep. Upon closer examination, Aleu realized it was actually dead—and it had probably died only within the last few hours.
She turned to ask the raven how it knew the caribou was there, but the raven was gone.
More questions sped through her mind, but she decided to ignore them all so she could dig into her meal. Her stomach filled quickly, and she never felt she would enjoy a caribou so much.
As she finished eating, she turned to the exit and was met with anther, less pleasant surprise. Snow was starting to fall.
Winter came early this year, Aleu thought with a groan. She sighed. Well, I guess I’d better get going.

The small snowfall soon turned into a snowstorm, which grew to be so strong that Aleu could hardly see her nose in front of her face.
She had been walking for days. It was early November by now, and the Alaskan tundra was doing its fair share to remind her of that. The snow made it all the harder to climb the mountains, and there were several mountains for her to climb over. Her visibility was greatly reduced, and oftentimes she would find her own paw prints in the snow—a betrayal that she was walking in circles. Food was scarce, but she was somehow able to find at least one filling meal each day. The day before, she surprised herself and found two: one mountain goat and the other a moose.
Aleu made it a point to take her time. She knew that, the more energy she exerted, the quicker she would be lost to the elements. She paced herself, controlled her breathing as much as possible, and whenever she found a small cave or other kind of shelter from the blinding snow, she took advantage of it to rest.
Were she in a hurry, Aleu could probably make it to Nome within the span of a week or two. But since she was being careful—and rightfully so—she figured that it would take until Christmas to make the rest of her journey.
She didn’t know what time of day it was—or was it really day? Her body’s clock had stopped working long ago, and now all she could do was go to sleep when she was tired and start walking again when she was awake.
It did not balance out so well.
There was a path that she was trying to take, but it was so hard to see it that she ended up actually needing to backtrack three times. After a while, the snow started clearing, and Aleu started seeing that the path in actuality zigzagged all over the mountain. At first she had thought it was a moose path, but after seeing the zigzag pattern, she decided that it was actually some sort of a fox trail. But she didn’t really care what it was; it led roughly north, and that’s all that mattered.
Day after day, she followed this path, as best she could. She managed to get her meal each day, and her style of getting drinking water was slow but sure: she melted snow with her breath, drinking only a few drops at a time. After a few days she got tired of this process and ate the snow whole, melting it inside her mouth for a crunchier yet quicker way of getting her necessary water.
And now, as she reached the top of the latest mountain, the snow cleared enough for her to see all the way to the base. She smiled in happiness: below her, less than a mile away, was a town.
It had been years since Aleu had seen human civilization, and she welcomed this latest discovery. She felt a spring in her step as she started her descent; her trip would take her through this town, and she was excited to be among humans again.
Soon, she was inside the town. It was like Nome in almost every way, except maybe it was a little smaller and had fewer people. There were plenty of private shops, and Aleu stared in their windows and marveled at the various items that she saw. There were houses of every shape and color. There were post offices, supermarkets, and…
Aleu stopped in front of the last building, reading the sign. After three years of not reading anything, the skill had almost left her completely. But eventually she could make out what it said. 
Pound, she thought. What’s a pound? She shrugged, deciding to look through a window to get an idea. There were no windows, however, so she decided to go in through the door to check it out.
The door was closed shut and locked. Shoot. She decided that it really wasn’t worth her time anyway, so she walked away.
She had hardly gone a few feet, however, when the door flew open and a man jumped out. He looked around quickly, saw Aleu, and raised an object in his hand, pointing it at her.
Aleu gasped, all too familiar with the weapon. It’s a gun! She carefully calculated where the gun would shoot, and took a calm step to the left.
The gun shot and missed.
Aleu wasn’t petrified; she was curious, if anything else. But she didn’t move, deciding it was best to stay where she was. She eyed the gun carefully, trying to figure out why it had made such a soft sound when it had fired at—
The gun fired again. This time it did not miss.

CHAPTER 5

BALTO STOOD IN front of the carpenter’s shop. He was trying to persuade the carpenter that he did not want a bone to chew on, he did not want a new water bowl, and he did not want an extra pat on the head. He was trying to let the carpenter know that he needed a new window cover for his boat.
“I’m sorry, boy,” the man said, “but I have no idea what you are trying to tell me.”
Balto lowered his head with a sigh, and walked away. After Saba had suggested the carpenter, Balto’s hopes had risen. Now he was back to where he started: a hole in his boat and no wood to patch it with.
So he decided to visit another one of his daughters, this time going to Tydye’s house. Tydye was one of his kinder children; he couldn’t remember a time when she had gotten angry. She had gone through a lot of hardships, as well, but had always come out of them with a smile.
As Balto came up to her house, she came out the doggy door out front. “Hi, Pop,” she called. It was obvious that she was expecting him.
Balto smiled in return. “Hey, Tiger.”
Tydye looked at his face, and concern began to show on hers. “Is something wrong? You look awful.”
Balto stared at her. “You know, your sister said the exact same thing.”
Tydye smiled. “Yeah, I know. Saba came over here earlier.” Her smile vanished. “But I was serious: you do look awful.”
“Yeah,” Balto admitted with a sigh. “I don’t sleep well anymore.”
“Because of Aleu?”
Balto slowly nodded. “I don’t know why I keep thinking about her. My dreams seem to always involve her.”
“How so?”
“I constantly see her going through mountains, being led by a mouse.”
Tydye raised an eyebrow. “Aleu…and a mouse?”
“That’s just what I said,” Balto agreed. “Anyway, the mouse leads Aleu, but for some reason, the dream always ends before I see where Aleu gets to.”
Tydye shrugged. “Wherever she goes, you cannot help her. Her journey is her own.” She chuckled. “Besides, it’s just a dream.”
Balto slowly nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right, but some part of me is wondering why I’m dreaming about it. Will I be involved in her journey?”
“Pop, you’ve got to let it go.” Tydye stared at him. “I’m serious. Let it go.”
Balto gritted his teeth. “Now you’re sounding like your mother. And…you’re both right.”
Tydye smiled. “It’s okay. Besides,” she added mischievously, “I know where we can get enough wood to cover your window.”
Balto froze. “You…” He smiled, and then advanced on Tydye. “I’m going to kill you!” he shouted, purposefully letting Tydye outrun him. They both laughed all the while.

Aleu woke up in a sweat. He was hot, too hot to be healthy. She tried moving around, but she felt something pull her by her feet, preventing her from moving even an inch.
She opened her eyes, trying to look around. She found herself looking through thin metal bars. Am I dreaming? She tried to look past the bars, but saw only a bright light, which blinded her.
“Oh, look, she’s waking up,” somebody said. Aleu raised her head, trying to look around even more. She saw the bars moving away, only so that other bars could appear. She looked down, and saw that her feet were tied up with rope, which was attached to two of the bars.
Suddenly it hit her: she was in a cage.
Aleu desperately started looking around. She saw other cages littered across the room, most if not all of them holding dogs. One of them looked at her. “What do you suppose she is?” it asked.
“I don’t know,” another responded. “She’s doesn’t look like any species of dog I’ve ever seen…probably a wolf.”
“I’m not a wolf!” Aleu shouted, not out of anger but out of habit; she never did like being called a wolf.
“Oh, look!” a Scottish terrier announced. “She’s got a wee voice out there! She speaks!” The room erupted in laughter.
“Wait,” Aleu said, trying to get up again but without success. “How did I end up here? I thought I was shot.”
“That you were, miss,” one of the border collies said. “But it wasn’t with a bullet. The humans call them tranquilizer darts. But we call them…” He looked to his cage-mate. “What do we call them?”
“Sleeping pills,” was the response.
Aleu looked down at her chest. Sure enough, a little hole was there, marking the spot where the dart had hit her. “Ouch,” she murmured. Then, curious, she added, “Funny. I didn’t feel a thing.”
“Yeah, you got lucky,” one of the dogs said. Then, as if remembering something, she added, “And…welcome to the pound.”
Aleu stared at them all. “Pound?” she asked. Then, realizing what a ‘pound’ really was, she began to panic. “No!” she yelled. “I don’t belong here. I’m in the middle of a journey.”
“What kind journey?” a cocker spaniel asked.
“I’m going to Nome!” Aleu screamed. She looked at the lone door in the room, and yelled, “Nome! Nome!”
One of the German shepherds chuckled. “That’s the way it goes, miss. You travel away from home one day, minding your own business, and suddenly a dogcatcher ruins your life. Besides,” he added with a raised eyebrow, “isn’t Nome a couple hundred miles away?”
Aleu tugged at the ropes on her feet once more. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered. She growled in anger when the ropes kept tight. “I’ve got to get out of here!”
“No chance of that, miss,” another dog said. “I once got out of the cage, but even if you get out the door, it’s a maze in getting outside. There’s no escape.”
Aleu gritted her teeth. “I haven’t come all this way just to have my journey end here!” Then she bit down as hard as she could on the four ropes that were tied to her feet.
They split.
The dogs all stared. “Wow!” one exclaimed. “She really is a wolf!”
Aleu ignored him and then proceeded to bend the bars of her cage with her teeth. Luckily, they were extremely thin, so it did not take much to bend them. It was not long before she had bent a hole large enough for her to fit through.
Once she hit the floor, the entire room broke out in a cheer. It was as if she had instantly become a celebrity to the other dogs, but she knew as well as they did only half the battle was won.
She ignored the dogs; they were doing nothing but making noise, and that was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she ran toward the door, and threw her body against it, desperate to open it.
It was locked tight, and did not budge. Aleu felt the breath leave her, and fell to the floor. While she lay there, she began to lose hope; there was no way out of here.
But then she remembered a technique her father taught her. She jumped back to her feet and, using her claws, she tore the door’s hinges off the wall. Then she kicked the door in. The door opened just enough for her to get through.
Aleu smiled in satisfaction, before bolting straight ahead. She only ran a couple of feet before a man saw her. “Hey, stop!” he shouted, and began to follow her.
She started running faster, getting to a point where she was at least two hallways ahead of him. The building quickly turned into a maze, with one hallway leading into another one, which branched out into several.
It was just as the other dogs had warned: the building was a maze. Aleu was not good with mazes, but she felt that, if she kept running, she was bound to find the exit sometime.
She only had to run for a few minutes before she found a staircase, one that only went down. After running down as fast as she could, she found herself in a new labyrinth of hallways.
Her impatience began to catch up to her. Come on, she mentally screamed. It shouldn’t be this hard!
But to her relief, the hallway led straight to another door—the exit. Aleu ran at it all the faster, anxious to return to the outside world once more.
She barked in frustration when this one, too, proved to be locked. She once again found herself on the floor, out of breath. She was barely aware of two humans running up, one with a net and the other with a pistol.
“Thought you could get away, didn’t you, wolf?” one of them asked.
Aleu regained her air, but continued to lie on the floor. She waited until one of the humans laid a hand on her, and then suddenly became animated, biting down hard on the hand.
The human yelled in agony while the other raised his gun. Aleu jumped up, hurriedly kicked the gun aside, and proceeded to work at this door the way she had the last one. She managed to get the door open just before the two men recovered, and jumped through right before the gun fired. To her relief, the tranquilizer dart missed her by inches.
Aleu didn’t bother looking back. She ran forward as quickly as possible, into the blinding snowstorm that had just started up. It was only when she was several miles out of town that she finally slowed her pace.
She smiled in satisfaction. Looks like I just had my event of this journey. Then she turned north and began walking again.

Balto stared at his unusual gift. He knew what it was by the shape of the box—a huge board, big enough to fill half his window—but he was a bit surprised that it was all tied up in wrapping paper and a bow.

“How’d you get that on, Malena?” he asked.
His daughter only shrugged, a smile plastered on her face.
Balto started unwrapping the present. It would have been an easy process, except that he liked to keep the paper, which caused him to carefully slice one tiny section away at a time.
Finally, an impatient Malena said, “Just rip it off, Pop.”
So Balto tore his claws into it and flung the paper all over the floor. Then he started biting on the cardboard box until it split apart.
The plywood board now lay in the middle of his boat, surrounded by unnecessary wrapping paper bits.
“Just one question,” Balto said. “How do we put it onto the window?”
Malena froze, and it was immediately obvious that, while the gift was her idea, she had no answer. “Uh…uh…uh…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know.”
Balto looked at her. “Malena, your eye is twitching.”
“Sorry,” Malena quickly replied. “Lack of calcium.”
Balto smiled, glad to see his daughter was still her same old self. Then, after a few seconds of thought, his eyes lit up. “Wait, I’ve got it!” He gave a loud whistle, and almost immediately Muk and Luk ran up the gangplank and into the main room. Upon seeing Balto’s posture, they both saluted.
“Watch this,” Balto whispered to Malena. Then, turning to the bears, he said, “Report!”
“Polar bears Muk and Luk reporting for duty, sir!” Muk shouted, speaking for both himself and Luk.
“At ease,” Balto said. When they had dropped back down onto all fours, he continued, “Now, I’ve got a game for you two to play.”
“Does it involve Uncle Boris?” Muk asked, a look of hope on his face.
Balto’s smile vanished for a second. “Uh…no.” Then, hoping he was quick enough to stop the bears’ disappointment, he added, “But it is still fun!” Knowing their interest was peaked, he continued, “Okay, look through my drawers and find the nail guns.”
Malena was suddenly uneasy. “Uh…nail guns? Those two with nail guns?”
Balto just winked.
Muk and Luk ran around to the other side of Balto’s boat and threw open the trunk chest sitting there. Inside were all sorts of things, ranging from toys to tools, and the two started searching for the guns. Muk found his first, but was followed closely by Luk. They came back, waiting for their next orders.
“Okay, here’s how it’s going to work,” Balto said. “While Luk and I hold the board in place, Muk, you will shoot the board and nail it into the window.”
Malena started backing up. “Are you crazy, Pop?” she asked, her voice betraying her worry.
Balto smiled, already positioning himself by the window as Luk heaved over the board. “Trust me, Malena; I know what I’m doing.” 
“I trust you,” Malena said, still backing up. Indicating Muk, she murmured, “It’s him I’m having trouble trusting.”
Muk ignored her statements—quite an achievement for him—and patiently waited for his big moment.
“All right, Muk,” Balto said after the board was in place. “Shoot!”
Muk raised his gun and shot. Malena shut her eyes, not wanting to watch. Then, after a few more seconds, she heard the shot again. And again. And again…
She opened her eyes just in time to see a nail drive straight into the wood, puncturing it and connecting the board to the windowsill. She watched as Muk did this a few dozen times. Finally, the board was secure enough for Luk and Balto to step away from it, and Malena marveled as it stayed put.
After a few more minutes, the nails had all flown into the board. Balto smiled, satisfied. “Good job, guys. Now you can go and torture your Uncle Boris.”
The bears, more than happy to accept the offer, raced outside, dropping the guns on the floor. As Luk’s landed, however, it discharged and fired a nail into the air. The nail bounced off the ceiling and landed on the floor—driving through Balto’s foot in the process.
Balto yelled into the air, his wolf’s heart forcing him to howl. As Malena watched, Balto continued howling through the air, cursing every once in a while.
Malena gasped, horrified at the scene. “Are you all right, Pop?” she asked.
“Does…it…look…like…I’m…all…right…to…you?” Balto asked, fighting to control his voice.
“Uh…good answer.”
Balto looked at his foot, trying to see the nail through the blood. He found it, and started pulling at it with his teeth. Not only was the nail stuck tight, but it also hurt him more than anything else in his life.
This is ridiculous, he thought. Then, giving one final tug on the nail with his teeth, he pulled it out of the floor, freeing his blood-dipped paw.
Malena grimaced at the sight of it. “That has to be the most gruesome thing I’ve ever seen.”
Balto looked at her. “Apparently you’ve never been to White Mountain.” He raised his paw, taking a closer look at it. “Oh, that hurt,” he groaned through gritted teeth.
Malena turned away. “That…is gross.”
“No kidding,” Balto snorted, starting to limp 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. “You took the pack across the great waters, and that was the last I was to see of you. Nava told me as much, every day until his last.”
Aleu slowly got up, careful not to make any sudden moves. “My father offered the pack to you,” she reminded him. “And you refused. And I only took the pack because they needed me.”
The wolf glared at her all the more. “Then why are you not with them now, wolfdog? Have they a new leader?”
“No,” Aleu replied, her anger beginning to grow; she had come so far in her journey, and now she was being stopped by him. “They were killed off. A black wolf attacked with an army. I barely escaped—”
“You barely escaped.” The wolf laughed mockingly. “You should have been the first one to die!” His eyebrows met. “You should not have come back. There is nothing for you here.”
“There is more for me here than there is where the pack lies dead,” Aleu snapped back. “And you are keeping me from getting there.”
The wolf eyed her thoughtfully. “Getting where?” Before allowing Aleu a chance to respond, he continued, “Are you going back to your home? I thought you didn’t have a home, and that’s why you led my pack. You’re not seriously thinking about going back to Nome, are you? There is nothing for you there.”
“My family is there,” Aleu answered, “and they are as much of a home to me as the pack was.”
“Family…” The wolf finally took his eyes off of Aleu, and looked out to the nearby woods absently. “My family was that pack. I left my family when they needed me most. If I had been their leader, I would not have let the pack die. I would have saved them. You did not, and now I have no family left.” He lowered his head. “Why should I allow you to go back to your family, when I will never be able to do the same?”
Quite annoyed with this inconvenient banter, Aleu snorted. “Because my family needs me, and yours doesn’t need you.”
The wolf returned to glaring at her. “Do you really think I would allow you to return to your father?” he asked. He rose to his feet and walked slowly toward her. “You took something very precious away from me, and now you will pay for it!”
Aleu crouched and back up, prepared for a fight. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, trying even now to reason with him. “We can just go our separate ways, and pretend we never met.”
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” he asked.  “But it’s not that simple. Nothing about this is simple, and I hope to make you fully aware of that. I’ll make sure you never see your family again, and they won’t miss you one bit.”
“You’re wrong!” Aleu shouted. “They love me, and they’ve missed me ever since the day I left. And even if they never know I tried to make the journey, I will keep trying until my dying breath to see my family again!”
“Really?” The wolf began to circle her. “Then why did your father allow you to go to lead my pack? If he loved you, he would have stopped you from going.” He smiled sinisterly. “And it’s a wonder that you survived. I know what he thinks: he thinks you’re dead.” He suddenly leapt at her. “Which you are!”
Aleu was caught off-guard. She didn’t believe what Niju had just said. Papa loves me…doesn’t he? She remembered how he had simply accepted the fact that she would leave, how he had seemed to decide that, if he couldn’t win his argument, she would be just as well to leave. He had simply watched her go away. Had he really loved me?
Niju hit her, sending her rolling across the snow. She recovered quickly, only to find herself flying through the air once more. This time, when she landed, the snow underneath gave way. Thinking fast, Aleu thrust her claws into the exposed ground.
The snow fell out from under her, and continued to fall for several hundred feet. Aleu gasped, realizing how close she had come to falling off the edge of the hidden cliff herself.
She struggled to her feet, but Niju hit her again, sending her even closer to the edge. And he hit her again. And again…
Papa…didn’t…love me? Aleu wondered why he had kept her secret away from her for so long, why he had let her go when she had run away, why…
He had cried for her. During their last few minutes, he had said that he loved her. She could still feel his tears against her fur as they had embraced one final time. She had felt his love.
And his love was real.
Aleu’s strength suddenly returned, and she got up just in time to avoid a blow that would have sent her over the cliff. She threw a blow of her own at Niju, not only to defend herself, but also to give him a taste of his own medicine.
She punched Niju in the face, knocking him down. She allowed him to jump up, only to hit him when he did. She kicked Niju in the chest, sending him even closer to the edge of the cliff. Suddenly she found the tables had turned: now it was she who had the upper hand. She started pushing him, determined to kill him for lying to her.
Papa loved me! 
Aleu felt Niju bolt up, kicking her once more. She went flying, barely catching the side of the cliff once more. She climbed back up, and again met Niju in combat. She knocked him to the side, and then swung her hind legs around to kick him in the chest. He flew back, this time missing the side of the cliff, and falling over it. Aleu looked after him, watching his inert form fall through the air. Then she turned her head, not wanting to see what would happen next. She heard him hit the jagged rocks below. If she hadn’t killed him, she knew, then the rocks had.
She suddenly felt very weak. The fight had taken a lot out of her, and she wondered if Niju had caused her injury. Before she could assess herself, she felt herself begin to pass out.
She allowed the calming nothingness to envelop her. She knew that it was only temporary, and resolved once again to finish her journey.
 

 CHAPTER 7

THE SUNLIGHT ONCE again woke Balto up. He squinted as the light suddenly penetrated one of his windows, sailing gracefully through the air to painfully land on his eyelids.
Oh, don’t you dare, he felt like shouting, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. So he opened his eyes reluctantly and walked over to a shadowed part of his ship, wanting to cram in a few more minutes of sleep. When it didn’t come to him, he resolved to wake up completely and go outside.
A shot of pain erupted in his foot. He tried not to yell, but couldn’t stop himself. “Aah!” he screamed, jumping up and down on his three remaining legs.
He raised the paw that had caused him grief and took looked at it. He grimaced when he realized that the hole was still in his foot, and from the looks of it, it was now infected.
He sighed in retort. Great job, Balto, just great. Look at what you’ve got yourself into: a trip to the vet.
Boris walked up to him from behind. “Good morning, Longsleeper,” he said, walking over to a closet to retrieve his mop and bucket.
“Good morning, Boris,” Balto murmured, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. “Why are you up so early?”
Boris found his mop. “Why are you up so late? You should have been up here over three hours ago!”
Balto raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
Boris started filling his bucket with water. “Muk and Luk. That’s what for.”
Balto merely smiled and shook his head. “I can’t remember a single that that has gone by that those two bears have refused to irritate you. Why does it irritate you, anyway?” When Boris didn’t respond, Balto continued, “Muk and Luk are just that way. They do it because they love you…not because you’re letting the water spill.” He inclined his head toward the bucket.
Boris’s reflexes allowed him to save the bucket just in time. He put it on a more level floorboard and dropped the mop inside of it. “What do you know about love?” he asked, a little irritated. “Was it love that allowed you to let Aleu go?”
Balto’s smile vanished. “Let’s not talk about it right now, okay?” he asked, hoping to stall.
“No, let’s.” Boris stared at Balto. “How can you love her if you allowed her to run away? How could you love her if you let her go to a place that you don’t even know exists? How can you love her…if you know you would never see her again?”
Balto stared at the horizon. “I love her…because of all those things. It was because I love Aleu that I let her go.”
Boris just stared at him. “Okay, let’s not talk about it right now; you’re starting to tear up.”
Balto sniffed out of condensation. “Sorry, there’s a lot of moisture in the air.”
Boris nodded in argument. “Yeah, and I’m the queen of England.”
“Cross-species and cross-dresser?” Balto asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile. “I never knew.”
Boris stared at him. “That proves it.”
“Proves what?”
“That you’ve been hanging around Muk and Luk too long,” Boris said, once again retrieving his mop. “You’re becoming one of them.”
Balto’s smile widened. “Yeah. Pity, isn’t it?”
“You can say that again.”

Balto walked down the street, reluctant to reach his destination. He had known that this day would come, but he was reluctant to embrace the inevitable. He gingerly walked up to the veterinarian’s office, limping as he did so.
Kodi happened to be walking past at that moment, and when he saw his father nearby, he walked up to him. “Hey, Dad!” he said. “How’s it go…” And then he noticed  his father’s paw. “Whoa! What happened?”
“Take a nail gun and add Muk and Luk,” Balto said in answer, never slowing his walk.
Kodi winced. “Must have been painful.”
Balto nodded. “I think it’s getting infected; at any rate, it hurts like crazy.”
“Would you like for me to come with you?” Kodi asked, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Balto’s injured paw. “You know, just in case you need help getting there?”
“Nah, I’m fine,” Balto insisted. But almost right after saying it, he remembered the conversation he had with Dingo the day before, and suddenly felt the urge to spend more time with Kodi as well—and all his other children. “Actually,” he amended, “I would like the extra company.”
Kodi’s tail began to wag, and a smile spread across his face. “You mean it?” he asked.
Balto smiled and nodded. “I would love it,” he promised.

That afternoon, as Balto stood at the bow of his boat, watching the sunset, he remembered how, at a different sunset, Aleu had howled at him as a final—eternal—good-bye.
He sighed, and not just because of the huge bandage that now wrapped around his paw. Balto sighed because he missed Aleu.
He remembered how, during the first few months after she had left, Jenna would sometimes cry herself to sleep because she missed her daughter. How, when there were times Balto wanted to share a funny story with Aleu, she was never there. How, during the last few weeks of her second year away, he had felt as if he would rather die than live one more day without seeing his daughter.
And yet, now, he didn’t care. She had chosen—properly chosen, he knew—her fate, and now he would accept it, regardless of his feelings against it. And he would respect her decision, and try to live the best life possible without her.
He continued staring at the sun until it sank below the horizon. After it did, he walked down below the deck, walking into his bedroom.
Muk and Luk were there, nailing another huge board into the window—a board that Kodi had picked up after Balto’s trip to the veterinarian. “Hey, guys,” Balto said, “how’s it going?”
To answer his question, Luk shot another nail into the board, forbidding that section to ever again move so much as an inch.
Balto smiled. “Great, then!” After the bears had finished up, he said, rather mischievously, “Hey, are you two aware that you dug a nail into my foot a few days ago?”
Muk and Luk froze. “Uh…” Muk stammered. Then, in a panic, he and Luk took off running, dropping their guns once more.
Balto briefly saw Muk’s gun discharge and shoot at the board in the window. It bounced off the board and—
“Ow!” Balto yelled, half-howling. He looked down, and groaned when he saw the nail digging into his other front paw.
He sighed, more annoyed than in pain. He started pulling at it with his teeth, and nearly cursed out loud when it didn’t budge.
Jenna appeared in the doorway. “Balto, did you…” She stopped, staring at his paw. “Oh, my gosh. What did you do?”
Balto looked at her. “I didn’t do anything!” Jenna just stared at him, apparently not believing him. “I didn’t!” Balto exclaimed, once again trying to budge the nail free of the floor. “It was Muk and Luk.”
Jenna’s expression didn’t change. “Yeah, right.”
“Really!” Balto yelled, giving the nail one final tug. This time, it came free. He spit the nail into a corner of the room and gave his paw quick look. He gritted his teeth in frustration. “Oh, great. Another trip to the vet.”
Jenna couldn’t help but smile. “Look at the bright side,” she said. “Now you’ll have two identical bandages.”
Balto only sighed.

As noon came the next day, Balto walked out of town with Jenna, a bandage on each of his front paws.
“I hope you’re satisfied, my love,” Balto groaned, trying to ignore the pain that shot up his legs whenever he walked.
“With what?” Jenna asked, unable to hold back the laughter.
“With making a fool out of me, that’s with what,” Balto replied, wincing as he put his other paw down.
“You’re saying it’s my fault that table fell on you?” Jenna asked, her voice one of innocence.
“For one thing, it wasn’t a table; a table would have been softer. It was a toolbox,” Balto corrected. “And you were the one that hit it while I was under it.”
“Well,” Jenna said, her smile remaining, “if I did, it was an accident. And you needed your foot bandaged anyway.”
“I knew it needed a bandage,” Balto argued. “I just wasn’t expecting a pair of tweezers would be needed to get the little nails out.” He winced again, this time just because he remembered the incident all too clearly.
Jenna only laughed.

Food was getting harder to find. Fresh water was even scarcer, and the blizzard continuously blocked Aleu’s vision.
Still she pressed on.
She had now been on her journey for several long weeks, but the days had begun to blur together, to the point where she couldn’t even guess exactly how long she had been at it. She only knew which direction she was heading by following the North Star, which she barely saw more than once every few hours. The days were growing very short, and the amount of daylight she saw decreased rapidly. 
Still, Aleu pressed on.
She followed the sea as best she could, but sometimes she was forced to take detours—usually very long ones. She ate whatever she could find, even settling for fish from the ocean a few times. She was losing weight at an unhealthy rate, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Her muscles screamed at her for a rest, but the more she rested, the greater the risk of her succumbing to the elements.
Aleu would not allow that to happen. She just gritted her teeth and pressed on.
“I will find Nome,” she promised herself out loud; it helped to hear someone speaking, even if it was herself. “I will find Nome, and when I do, I’m going straight to Papa’s home, telling him hello, and falling asleep. And then the next morning, I’m going to go into town, and have the butcher give me the largest slab of meat he’s got. Yeah, that’s something to look forward to.”
The thought of meat waiting for her helped motivate her, but the real push was the fact that she would see her family again—and very soon.
The next time the snow cleared enough, she found herself at the top of a mountain. As she looked down, she saw faint lights on the horizon.
Even from a hundred miles away, Aleu felt that Nome looked close enough to touch.

 CHAPTER 8

BALTO WOKE UP in a sweat. His dreams from the night before would have been enough, but the sun still wasn’t cooperating with him, and had woken him up too early for comfort. Never mind that it was the day before Christmas, and the sun didn’t rise until noon; the sun was still waking him up prematurely.
Balto slowly—and reluctantly—stood up, stretching to relieve the stiffness of his legs. He tried to think about his dreams, and now that he was fully awake, he realized that he did not remember them.
He sighed. This is just not a good week for me.
He shook his head; he wasn’t about to think about it at that moment. He decided to walk outside to see what was going on.
All he found was Boris on the deck, washing it down with his mop. Boris noticed him before he could speak, and said, “Hello, Balto.”
“Afternoon, Boris,” Balto responded after looking at the sun. “How’s your day been?”
“Not too bad,” Boris said. “After all, Muk and Luk are nowhere to be found.” He flung his mop into the air in triumph, catching it as it returned to the ground. He turned back to Balto. “And that is fine with me.”
Balto smiled and shook his head. Then, not knowing why, a question suddenly came into his head. “Hey, Boris, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Boris said absently, setting his mop back into the water-filled bucket. “What is it?”
“Why do you mop the ship every day?”
Boris had to think about it for a few minutes. “Well...to keep it clean, of course,” he finally replied in his slight Russian accent.
“But it’ll get dirty all over again,” Balto argued. “Why do you bother?”
Boris stared at him. “What, are you taking a survey?” When Balto shook his head, Boris asked, “Then why do you visit Jenna every day?”
“Because I love her,” Balto said; he didn’t have to think over his answer like Boris had to for his. “And I visit all my other kids all the time—”
“Except Aleu,” Boris corrected.
Balto nodded. “Except Aleu. But I visit all my other kids all the time, because I love them.”
“And I love my ship,” Boris responded, slapping the floorboards with his wet mop. “This has been my home, and I intend to keep it ship shape, if you pardon the expression. And it has been your home as well, ever since you first came here.” He eyed Balto with a pseudo-serious look. “Why am I the only one cleaning it, in that case?”
Balto chuckled and began walking away. “Because I’m going to visit Jenna,” he called behind his shoulder. “I love you too, Boris!”
Boris just rolled his eyes and continued mopping, humming a merry tune to himself as he went.

Later that day, Balto came back from his visit with Jenna. He walked along the sea, looking around for his very distinguishable ship.
But he couldn’t find it.
After searching for several long minutes, Balto started getting frantic. Where’s home? It’s gone! Who stole it? Then he found it...but it was covered in pink.
“What the...” Balto ran up to it, determined to find out what was going on. “Hey, who’s there!” he yelled when he was a few feet away. He saw a shadow dart around from the inside. Running slightly faster, he yelled, “I’m warning you, I have wolf blood, and I’m not afraid to use it!”
“Oh, so now you admit it,” Boris called from within.
Balto skidded to a stop and squinted through the window. Sure enough, he saw Boris waddling around inside the ship. “Boris?” he called, catching the goose’s attention. “What have you done with my home?”
“Apart from repainting it,” Boris said, trying to hammer a board into the wall, “I’m setting it up for tomorrow night’s party.”
Balto raised an eyebrow. “Are you aware that you painted it pink?”
Boris froze, the hammer resting mere inches from the nail. “Uh...” He shrugged. “It’s not my fault I’m color blind.” Then he continued his stroke, smiling in satisfaction when the hammer got the board into the wall.
Balto began to shake his head, but stopped when Boris’s words sank in. “Wait, what party?”
Boris got another nail, walking over to another wall to hammer another board into place. “Don’t you remember, Balto? You’re the one who asked for it.” When Balto raised an eyebrow, he flung the hammer to the side and walked over to his friend. Grabbing him by the snout while simultaneously looking at him in the eyes, he yelled, “The Christmas party!”
“Uh...” Balto blinked. “Sorry, I can’t remember.”
Boris sighed, letting go. “You asked for me and those two pitiful excuses for polar bears to set up an indoor party for your family to celebrate Christmas.”
Balto had to think for a second, but he finally remembered. “Oh, right—but I asked you to do it last Christmas.”
“And I forgot,” Boris said, letting Balto go and returning to his work, “so I decided to make it up to you this year.”
Balto looked around the room. “So, where are Muk and Luk anyway?”
“Who wants to know?” the goose responded, flinging his hammer into three nails in a row. “Definitely not me.”
Balto smiled and walked outside, looking around for Muk and Luk. He found them on the other side of his boat, setting a few poles into the ground.
“Hey, guys! How’s it going?” Balto called.
“It’s going just fine, Balto,” Muk responded, speaking for both himself and Luk. After his pole was set, he walked a few feet away, grabbed a tarp, and started flinging it over the poles. Balto watched in fascination, as the space became a miniature house.
“Nice work,” Balto said in congratulations. “How long did it take for you two to figure out how to do it on your own?”
Luk gave a few chirps, and Muk translated, “About two hours. Why?”
Balto raised an eyebrow. “Usually it’d take you a few days. Sometimes even more, if you’re in a hurry.” He chuckled. “Well, maybe you’re just in a good mood today.”
“Not really,” Muk said, starting to nail the tarp into the poles with his gun. “Uncle Boris won’t let us play with him.” Luk sighed in agreement. “The only reason we’re even doing this, is because we were promised a great adventure later today.”
Suddenly, Balto was curious. “What kind of adventure?”
“We don’t know,” Muk responded as another nail found its mark. “But Uncle Boris promised us that he would give us an adventure the instant we are done. So that’s why we’re in a hurry, right Luk?” Luk nodded in agreement.
Balto left them to their work and returned to Boris. “What did you promise them?” he asked.
Boris had a smile on his face. “I promised them an adventure, and I’ll give them an adventure—of hide-and-seek. The plan: they hide, I seek.” His voice dropped to a whisper, but his smile just grew larger. “I’ll count to a billion before I go find them.”
Balto couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “That might take a while.”
“It’ll take a long time,” Boris agreed. “Long enough for me to never see them again.”
“Right.” Balto kept giggling as he left. “Well, I’m glad you’re so willing to play with them, Boris.”
“Willing and happy, Balto. Willing and happy.”

Balto looked over his small pile of presents, satisfied that he had found everything that he needed.
For Saba, Balto had gotten a pair of snowshoes for when she ran in sled dog races. For Malena, he had gotten a dog bone for when she needed the extra vitamins. For Dingo, he had gotten a mailbag for when he needed to deliver an excessive amount of telegraphs. For Kodi, he had gotten a scarf for when the mail run was going on a cold journey. For Tydye, he had gotten a pad that would ease the pain in her shoulder; she had a very sore shoulder since her miscarriage. For Jenna, he had gotten a brand-new, green bandana to replace her old red one, which had become torn and tarnished in the recent years. For Boris, he had gotten a new mop. For Muk and Luk, he had gotten a pile of vegetables that he would make into a snowman the next day.
He smiled. Tomorrow is going to be the best day of the year.
Balto looked around him. The paint had all dried, and now, with the light of the sun gone, the room was tinted purple instead of pink. Ah, that’s much better. He got up, walked around his ship to make sure Boris and the two bears were asleep, and then went outside to start setting up his presents. He worked tirelessly for the next few hours, making sure to stay quiet so as not to disturb his roommates, and finally went to bed at about three o’clock in the morning.
This attempt at sleeping was a feeble one; his mind was too excited to let him sleep, despite his body begging for it. I guess there’s a difference between tiredness and sleepiness, he finally decided. He got back up, walked around the boat to make sure—for the fifth time—that everything was set for the following day, and then went back to bed.
He got back up a few minutes later, still unable to sleep, and walked out to the ocean. He let out a howl, just to see if any other wolves were awake.
Balto was not a bit surprised when a multitude of wolves’ calls came back to him, seemingly from all directions. From somewhere in town, a voice cried, “Will you stop the racket? Some of us higher mammals are trying to sleep here!”
The wolves didn’t stop their howling, and Balto could only smile in amusement. The howling did the trick, and he suddenly he felt sleepy. He walked back to his ship, knowing this time, he would fall asleep at long last.
Before he fell asleep, he promised himself to make the next day a day to remember. 

 CHAPTER 9

WHEN BALTO WOKE up, he found that it was possible for him to only sleep for a single hour and feel as if it had been twelve. He felt refreshed, wide awake, and best of all, full of life.
Today is Christmas!
He jumped up and ran outside, hoping to see if Boris had found his present. Sure enough, Boris was on deck, looking over his new mop.
“Merry Christmas, Boris!” Balto called out, giddy with excitement.
“Yeah, whatever,” Boris murmured. “What have you done with my mop? It looks...brand new!”
“That’s because it is brand new,” Balto replied, a smile spread across his face. “Merry Christmas!”
Boris looked at him, and Balto could swear he saw a tear in the goose’s eye. “Uh...thank you, Balto.”
Still full of excitement, Balto ran out into the open air, anxious to see whether Muk and Luk had found their snowman. To his pleasure, he found the two polar bears running around it, apparently trying to decide if it was alive or not. He tried following their sign language, but could only catch a few words:
Is...alive?
I...maybe...is...?
...do...know...Balto...behind it?
Maybe...wouldn’t know.
Balto ran up to them. “Merry Christmas, you two!”
“Merry Christmas, Balto!” Muk shouted in return, speaking for both of them. “Did you make this?”
“Yeah, sure did!” Balto replied.
Muk turned to Luk. Balto caught what he motioned next: Told you.
No you didn’t!
Yes, I did. Muk turned back to Balto. “Well, merry Christmas!”
Balto smiled, happy that Christmas was already starting out perfectly. He ran back into his boat, grabbed the bag full of presents, and ran into town, ready to give them to the rest of his family.

The snowstorm trickled down to a small flurry, and Aleu felt she would never complain about lack of snowfall ever again.
The food was getting easier to find, and she happily found herself eating on a regular basis. Her weight began to return, as did her strength, and she made a lot of progress each day.
Nome was less than thirty miles away now, and she her pace quickened a little bit every time she thought about how close she was. She was going to reach Nome by that very night; she could almost feel it!
The beach was a pretty sight. The sun suspended itself over the southern horizon; it was about as high as it was getting today. Clouds directly overhead bounced off the sun’s light in beautiful colors, and the snow fell in shades of orange and pink—something she had never seen with her wolf pack. The ocean sparkled, with whales in the far distance majestically jumping out of the water quite often.
It was as if nature itself was begging her to return to Nome.
She let herself break into a full run, opening her mouth and letting her tongue hang out as she did. I’m going home! The thought kept repeating itself in her mind, and she was excited. How much had changed while she was gone? How much hadn’t changed? There was only one way to find out.
A small patch of sand erupted in front of Aleu, causing her to stop dead-still. A second later, she heard a sound, like that of thunder—but it wasn’t thunder.
Aleu turned to face the nearby woods, her trained eyes quickly scanning from left to right in search of the gun. She had only ever been shot at once: the last time she was in Nome. But it was a sound she would never forget.
But she became confused when she could not locate the source of the bullet. No matter how hard she looked, Aleu did not see either a gun or a human.
She decided to cautiously begin walking again, ready to dart ahead at any second.
Almost instantly, the sound of another gunshot filled the air. Aleu flinched, but not before the water behind her exploded into steam.
Not wanting to hang around any longer, Aleu darted ahead, as fast as her legs could carry her. She tried running in a zigzag pattern, hoping it would throw off the hunter’s aim in case he shot at her again.
The gun fired two more times, and with each shot the sound grew fainter. Even after she was sure she was out of range, Aleu kept running.
Her thoughts raced almost as fast as her legs. She had been gone for so long, she had completely forgotten the horrible things that she had to live with. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure if she was ready to return. Was she really ready to put up with all the horror that awaited her?
She slowed to a walk, and then finally stopped altogether. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, hoping to concentrate all her feelings toward her situation.
I never found a human to adopt me. I was shot at by a hunter. I had no friends… What can there possibly be in Nome for me?
Tears filled her eyes. I have come all this way for nothing. My pack was taken from me, and now I don’t even have a home to return to. This has been a waste. The tears began to flow freely. I am a waste.
Aleu barely noticed the snow start again. Suddenly, she didn’t care about anything. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear; what was left for her?
She did, however, notice when the snowfall ended, if only because it ended mere seconds later. Aleu opened her eyes a little bit, and then when they focused, they jerked wide open. Directly in front of her, within a distance of feet, was the “Welcome to Nome” sign.
“But I wasn’t here before,” Aleu said out loud, gasping in wonder. “How did I get here?”
In the far distance, she heard the sound of a howling wolf. She turned in the direction the howl came from: the hills outside of town. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought that, for a second, she had seen a white wolf. But when she blinked, it was gone.
Amazement filled Aleu’s heart, and she knew it had all been a sign—a sign that she belonged here after all. She looked up, and couldn’t help but smile. High up above her, as if to finally tell her she was home, the Northern Lights shone bright and vivid.

Balto adjusted his party hat that Boris had insisted that he wear, just as the goose had every year. He was outside his boat, which was now decorated with festivities in preparation for the Christmas party.
A small snowfall was beginning to form, which meant that it was definitely going to be a white Christmas—nothing new in Alaska, but still a welcome surprise. Another welcome surprise was Kodi, who was walking up at that very moment.
“Hey, Dad,” he said once he approached Balto. He looked over the ship quickly, while trying in vain to hide a chuckle. “Why’s your home pink?”
“First of all, it’s not pink, it’s cotton-candy,” Balto corrected, insisting in his head that it must have been close enough to cotton-candy for him to get away with claiming that was the color. Then, in a murmur, he added “And secondly, your Uncle Boris is color blind.” He held up a party hat. “And he insisted we all wear these.”
Kodi looked at the hat for a few seconds, before reluctantly putting it on. “This...this is awkward.”
“Welcome to my world,” Balto said in answer.
Kodi, figuring that this conversation was getting too far out of hand, walked inside the boat without further comment.
Two minutes later, Malena and Tydye came walking up the beach. “Hello, Pop!” they said in unison. Then, before they could take one step further, Tydye noticed Balto’s bandaged paws. “Whoa! What happened to you?”
“Take two nails and add a toolbox,” Balto replied, wincing in pain.
Malena turned to her sister. “Please don’t ask; I was there when it happened.” She paused. “Well, the first one, anyway.”
Tydye nodded. “If you were there,” she said sarcastically, “then I don’t want to know about it.”
Malena smiled. “A wise decision,” she said with an equal amount of sarcasm in her voice.
Balto just shook his head with a smile. Then, tossing them two hats, he said, “Your Uncle Boris wanted us all to wear these.”
“What for?” Tydye asked, putting one on. “It makes me look like a male.” She turned to Malena. “And you too, actually.”
“Oh, stop it,” Malena said with a smile.
“I was being serious,” Tydye countered.
Suddenly Malena started stammering. “Uh...uh...uh...”
Balto looked at her. “Malena, your eye is twitching.”
“Sorry,” Malena replied quickly, bolting past her father and sister in order to reach the safety of the ship. “Lack of Vitamin A.”
Tydye turned to her father, and noticed the look on his face—the look of exhaustion. “Are you all right, Pop?”
Balto smiled reassuringly. “Yeah, Pumpkin, I’m fine.” He sighed. “It’s just...been a long year. For both of us, I might add.”
Tydye sighed in return. “Yeah, it has.” She patted him on the shoulder. “But this is a whole new beginning. Let’s begin this next year with a promise. From now on, we’ll stick together.”
Balto smiled, stepping aside to let his daughter into his home. “How about...not just this year? How about forever?”
“That sounds like a plan to me,” Tydye responded. Then she walked inside.
A few minutes later, Dingo walked up. “Merry Christmas, Dad,” he greeted.
Balto smiled. “Merry Christmas, Son. I already told you that at least twice today.”
“Hey, it doesn’t kill you to say it again, does it?” Dingo replied. Then, without his father having to tell him, he walked over and put on a party hat.
“How did you know?” Balto asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Uncle Boris made us wear them last year. And the year before that...” His voice started trailing off. “And the year before that, come to think of it.”
Balto smiled. “Oh, yeah, he did. Now, you go on in there and have a great time!” He watched with joy as Dingo barked with joy and ran into the boat.
Ten minutes later, Jenna walked up, Saba at her side. “Hi, Balto,” Jenna said. “Merry Christmas, Pa,” Saba cried in giddiness; it seemed as if Balto wasn’t the only one who was excited.
“Merry Christmas to you too, Saba,” Balto replied. “You’re both just in time for the party.” He swished his tail at the hats, which both fell onto their heads, landing perfectly. “I’ve been practicing,” Balto explained. “And now that everyone’s here, let’s go inside and enjoy our party!”

 CHAPTER 10

THE PARTY WAS an all-out fun experience for Balto. Not only were his children there, but it seemed as if every other dog in town had managed to arrive as well. The games were some of the weirdest, yet most entertaining, that Balto had ever laid eyes upon; there were blow-darts, a walk-through maze, and an oversized board game—just to name a few. The refreshments were potato chips, orange juice, and, of course, dog bones.
The talking and fun and games went on. Soon it was time for gift exchanges. Since Balto had given his gifts to everyone earlier that day, he stood back and watched with glee as everyone else exchanged gifts.
After a while, Jenna walked over. “Mind if I join you?”
Balto shook his head. “I see you’re wearing the bandana I gave you,” he said with a smile.
Jenna smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. “Thanks for giving it to me.”
“Anything for you,” Balto replied with an equal twinkling in his equally brown eyes.
“Great party, isn’t it?”
“Terrific. This might be the best part we’ve ever had.”
“I agree!” Jenna exclaimed. Then she pulled a small bag out of her bandana. “Since you gave me a present, I think it’s only fitting that I give you one.”
“Oh, Jenna, you didn’t have to get me anything,” Balto argued, not making any motion to accept the gift.
“Go ahead,” Jenna persisted. “Take it. Look inside.”
Balto ripped off the wrapping with his claws and looked at the gift. It was a small heart-shaped locket, made out of gold. He felt around it with his paws, found the release button, and pushed it. As the top came off the bottom, he saw a picture. It was of him and his pups, playing on the beach when they were less than eight weeks old.
“Oh, Jenna,” Balto exclaimed in a whisper. “I’m...speechless. Th...this is the best gift I could ever hope to have.” He looked back at her. “Thank you.”
Jenna smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then she wrapped her neck around his. He returned the hug, a huge smile on his face.

The fun and games continued. The party went on until well after midnight. By that time, everyone was beginning to get sleepy, so they decided to draw it to a close.
Boris stood up on a chair and called for a toast. “It is my privilege...no, my honor...to announce that this party was a success,” he said. “And I would like to thank Muk and Luk for helping me put this whole thing together.”
Saba spoke up. “You mean, you’re thanking them for not tearing you apart today?” she corrected.
Boris was silent for a few seconds. “Well...” He cleared his throat. “If all of you would please ignore that statement from Yetala—”
“Saba!” Saba corrected.
“Whatever,” Boris said, once again clearing his throat. After the subsequent laughter stopped, he continued, “And I would like to thank all of you for coming. I believe that this was the best party that we’ve ever had...thanks in no small part to me, Tydye.” Tydye only blushed. “And now, I would like to ask for all of you to—”
The door suddenly burst open, and the gust of wind and snow that followed carried Boris’s voice away. The lights all flickered out, so it was impossible to see who it was that was standing in the door. It was a dog, for sure...or was it a wolf? The figure walked inside, shut the door behind itself, and walked a little further inside.
Balto’s wolf eyes adjusted to the darkness before all the others. He still had to squint to see the figure. Then his eyes widened as he realized who it was. “It...It can’t be!” The figure suddenly stopped. “Is...is it you?” Balto dared to ask.
“Aleu?”
Boris lit a match and turned on a lantern. As the light flickered across the room, all eyes turned to the figure.
Aleu stood in the doorway. Her fur was covered in snow and ice, her form far skinnier than when she had last been seen, and her appearance less of a dog and more of a wolf. But her smile, and the gleam in her eyes, was the same.
“Hello, Papa.”
Balto suddenly felt very faint, but even more excited and awed. “Aleu!” he shouted, running at her. All the others followed him, wanting to embrace their long-lost family member.
“This must be a dream,” Tydye said when they all settled down. “Pop told us you were going off to lead a wolf pack. How did you come back?”
“It’s a long story,” Aleu replied, and her voice betrayed her weariness. “But I am back, and I will never leave any of you ever again.”
Jenna was in tears. “I can’t believe this!” she exclaimed. Then she embraced her daughter again. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
Aleu hugged her mother in return. “It’s all right, Mom,” she said, tears in her own eyes. “My home is here now.”
Boris, standing back on his chair, called out, “Let’s extend the party! Dingo, you run into town and get all the dogs you can find. We’ll turn this Christmas party into a ‘Welcome Home, Aleu’ party!”
Dingo, a grin on his face, obediently ran out of the ship, barking the whole way into town. Within ten minutes, the whole dog population of Nome was in Balto’s ship, celebrating Aleu’s return.
In essence, this party was simply an extension of the old one, only with more joy and happiness. But Balto wasn’t celebrating. He was standing in a back corner of the boat, away from all the games and activities. His breathing was laborious; Aleu’s arrival had taken it away.
Aleu seemed to notice this, and walked up to him. “Is something wrong, Papa?” she asked. “You don’t seem as alive as you did when I last saw you.”
Balto smiled. He felt a part of his chest start to be lifted up upon hearing her voice. Her voice...it hadn’t changed at all in the past few years; she still sounded like a kid, just like when she had left. “I’m three years older. That’ll age a dog faster than anything else.” His smile vanished. “It’s just...so hard to grasp that you’re back. I keep thinking that this is a dream, and when I wake up you’ll be gone.”
Aleu slowly put her paw on his bandaged front foot, which she then pressed against her chest. “When I left, a huge hole came to live in my heart. Now feel: no hole.” She smiled, a tear in her eye. “I suspect that the same has happened to you.”
Balto nodded, remembering a very recent conversation he had, where he had used almost the exact same words. He gently pulled his paw away from Aleu’s chest, reached behind him, and brought out a wrapped present. “And this one is for you.”
Aleu just stared at him. “But...you didn’t even know I would be here. Why did you get me a Christmas present?”
Balto smiled. “Because, regardless of how far away you are, you are still my daughter. To tell you the truth, I got that for you the year you left, and I just couldn’t bring myself to give it away.”
Aleu smiled, and then wrapped her neck around his. “I am still your baby, right?” she asked.
Balto sniffed. “You will always be my baby,” he replied in a whisper. This time, the tears they felt on each other’s fur were tears of joy.
The partying finally ended a few hours later. After everybody went home, Balto found that Aleu was still there, walking around aimlessly. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Aleu looked at him, a bashful look on her face. “I don’t know where to go next,” she replied. “I mean, I’m home now—but where, exactly, is home?”
Balto smiled. “Hey, your home is always with me,” he said. He motioned around the room. “You’re going to live here, with me, just like you did before you left.”
Aleu smiled. “I’d...I’d like that.” Then she turned and looked at the windows...or lack thereof. “What did you do with the windows?” she asked.
Balto chuckled. “Well, Aleu, that is a long story...not too much unlike yours.” He raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, why did you leave the wolf pack to begin with?”
Aleu froze, suddenly at a loss for words. When she finally found them again, all she could say was, “I didn’t leave…”

The black wolf sat on his perch, overlooking the ocean. He had missed the ice bridge by a mere day, and now his chance of going back to the mainland would have to wait for another whole year.
So much time had been wasted on this, and yet so much had been learned. He could not help but feel satisfied. Besides, what was one more year, when the end result of his ultimate plan would be felt for generations hence?
He felt the earth beneath him tremble, ever so slightly. Knowing it was an approaching wolf, he called, “Who is it?”
The wolf stopped where he was. “It’s Shadow, sir,” was the response.
“Please tell me it’s good news,” the black wolf demanded. He turned around to stare Shadow in the face. “I’m not interested in bad news right now.”
Shadow gulped under the stare of his leader. “One of the survivors has finally talked.”
Pleased by this, the black wolf nodded, letting Shadow know he could continue.
“He was unable to remember the name of the leader’s father, but he did recall where Aleu was from.” Shadow looked out over the water, toward the direction where mainland lay. “They’re from Nome. And it’s likely her father is still alive.”
The black wolf smiled, returning to his gaze. “At last, we are getting results,” he whispered. Speaking louder, he ordered, “Tell the others to let the survivors go; they are no longer our concern.”
“What is our concern, sir?” Shadow asked.
“Our concern,” the black wolf responded, “is to wait until next year. The instant the ice bridge forms, we head over and find Aleu’s father. You know what happens then, brown wolf.”
Though he couldn’t see it, the black wolf knew Shadow nodded and began backing away. “Your wish is our command, Leader Ivy.”