Take Wing Part Two: The Second Key

The hills glowed a luminous blue beneath the wolfdog as he followed his lupine guide up the steep mountain face.  Breathing out, Juneau watched his own misty breath sweep back over him as a cloud in the pre-dawn stillness.  Just in front of him, Pawnee, his guide, muttered, "Not too much longer, yet.  Only a couple more hours."  Juneau, who was wont for lack of sleep, grumbled.  "Now, now," the wolf consoled him.  "We'll stop in a bit."

Several stubbed toes later, wolf and wolfdog sprawled in the cold sunshine beneath a rocky incline.  Desperate for some kind of food, Juneau got to his feet with some difficulty and wandered out of the shelter.  "I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder.  Pawnee, suspecting trouble, followed.  Juneau might think he can hunt food, but it's harder than he can imagine.  He's six months old and has never had to hunt for his own meat before.  Pawnee knew this thanks to Balto, the pup's uncle and his caretaker, who lived on a washed-up fishing boat on the outskirts of Nome, Alaska.  Once an outcast himself, half-wolf Balto had saved the town from a devastating disease.  So great was his success that even the wolf clan at the top of this very mountain had heard of his plight. 

The deceased leader of the Northern Heights pack, Bering, had been Balto's brother and Juneau's father.  Because the clan's current leader, Shonee, was corrupt, they had sent Pawnee to retrieve Bering's son closest to the mountain.  They had once abandoned the son because of his half-breed heritage-Juneau.  Now they hoped that he'd be able to overthrow Shonee.  Well, they're in for a surprise, thought Pawnee, the corners of his mouth quirking up.  Just ahead he could glimpse the half-grown hybrid sniffing eagerly at the mouth of a fox den.

"Hey!  Come look!"  Juneau didn't seem to mind that his wolf guide had followed him.  "There's a fox in here!"  Pawnee trotted up with mild interest.  Sniffing, he replied, "No.  See, the fox has already left.  There his tracks are, behind that old bush."

"Oh."  Juneau shuffled his large, creamy paws in the dust.  Poor kid, Pawnee sympathized.  He's starving, and doesn't know how to survive.  "Oh, all right," the wolf conceded, "we'll catch you a possum or a hare or something, but not that fox.  They're tricky to catch."  The pup bounced up and down, then winced as he looked down hatefully at a large, dusty bandage wrapped around his right foreleg.  Just four short days before, he'd jumped off a rooftop in an effort to escape the clutches of Caliber, the biggest and meanest puppy in Nome.  He figured that he must have bruised or even fractured something, but that wasn't about to stop him from going on a new journey.  Juneau was determined to unlock more keys from his past.

After Juneau caught (with a LOT of help from Pawnee) and ate a thick-coated hare, the duo trudged higher and higher up the craggy mountain.  Eventually, sounds could be heard in the distance.  Faint snarling, snuffling, and howling were only about a hundred feet away.  Juneau paused nervously.  "What if they don't like me, after all?"  He choked back a helpless whimper.

"You'll be fine.  I'll back you up."  Pawnee was becoming more and more attatched to this pup.  On their two-day trek together, they'd slept together and eaten together.  Now, as they entered the shadowy pass into the clan's cavern, he curved himself protectively around his young charge.

"Hey, Pawnee!  You're back!"  A large, milky-white wolf with dark brown bands winding around his legs stepped forward.  After that, a swarm of lupines crowded around them, almost overwhelming Juneau.  They spoke in hushed yet urgent whispers, fearing that Shonee would soon return from his solo hunt.

"Did you get him?"

"There he is!  Why, he's still small!"

"Son of ol' Bering, eh?"  This last statement belonged to an elderly dark gray wolf with a smattering of silver about his muzzle.  He peered at the newcomer with surprisingly strong golden eyes.  Juneau, summoning his courage, stared straight back at him.  "Well, well!  Bering's son you certainly are!"  The elder's eyes glinted with approval.  After that, two females led them to a small, hollowed-out covering of rock.  "Shonee won't see you here," one of the she-wolves assured Pawnee.

"Why don't we want him to see us?"  Juneau spoke hesitantly to her.

She chuckled softly.  "Because we want to be rid of him.  And between you and me" -she leaned down to speak in his soft, dark ear- "your father was a much better leader."  Smiling a little, she left the two alone.  No other wolves came to bother them, but the chaotic whispering continued.

"Well?"  Asked Pawnee with a sardonic grin.  "What do you think?"

Juneau wagged his shaggy tail.  "I like them."

Juneau sat up suddenly, blinking.  He must've dozed off...wait!  It was morning!  Pawnee was beside him, and appeared to be asleep, but then his luminous golden eyes opened quite suddenly.  "Get a good night's sleep, buddy?"  He yawned and flexed his long black claws.

"Sure did."  As Juneau pulled himself to his feet, Pawnee nodded approvingly.  He'd assumed that the rocky, bumpy ground would get the best of the pup, but he'd been wrong.  Juneau would adapt well to the life of a wolf.  "What do we eat?" asked Juneau, tail thumping.  "And when?"  Pawnee laughed.  "I don't know, and soon enough."  At that moment the same kind female wolf who'd spoken to them the night before appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.  Now that it was daylight, Juneau could see her dappled orange-gold coat and keen violet-blue eyes.  The only thing that marred her beauty was a rather large scar running down her left cheek, just about an inch below her eye.  She smiled broadly at them.  "Ready for breakfast?"

"Am I ever!"  Juneau licked his chops, and the other two laughed.  Then a serious look passed over the female's face.  "Then after that there's a secret meeting on the mountain's peak.  It's about an hour's good going from here, but the way's been cleared.  There shouldn't be any problems," she assured them, though even Juneau could read her concerned face like a book.  They all knew the danger of holding a secret meeting right under the alpha's nose.  If they were caught, the punishment would be dire. 

Juneau refused to think about the consequences and busied himself with thinking of home as they followed the other wolves into the cave for breakfast.  I wonder how Brite's doing.  He and his recently acquired friend, Brite, a Border collie/husky mix, had had an awkward goodbye, and he wished that he could go back and do it over.  But if she really was what she seemed, she wouldn't care about that.  Blunt and inquisitive, Brite didn't seem to care what others thought, especially when it came to her cousin, Caliber.  Juneau shuddered, remembering when he'd found out that she and the pup who'd caused him to jump off a roof were related.  But certainly, Brite disliked Cal at least as much as Juneau himself.  He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, remembering the last dirty trick that he and Brite had played on their young oppressor.  He could still hear Cal's scream when he'd gotten a mouthful of some horribly prickly burrs.  Suddenly, though, he was jerked to the side. 

Crouching and panting, Pawnee and the female lay in wait beside him.  "I...I don't think it was Shonee," murmured she.  "But it's always best to be on the safe side."

"I agree, erm..."  Pawnee trailed off lamely.

"Aspen," she supplied with a little grin.

"Aspen.  Right."  The wolf asserted himself and crept out of hiding.  Juneau could see he was embarassed.  The pup exchanged a wink with Aspen, and then they both slid out from behind the boulder, stifling bursts of laughter. 

Breakfast was cold and hasty, but that didn't stop the flow of questions directed at Juneau.  Finally Pawnee, Aspen, and the elder with the silver muzzle blocked up the ebb and suggested that they hurry up and get to the mountain top.  The curious wolves relented and began to trot up a nearby hill.  As they started off, it took Juneau a minute to realize where he'd seen that familiar gait before.  Then he remembered; almost everywhere they had gone, Balto had jogged in a similar fashion.  The young wolfdog strove to become a carbon copy of his uncle, and before long he was succeeding. 

Aspen accompanied himself and Pawnee, but nobody dared to speak openly.  Only the elder, who lead the procession, spoke in a normal tone of voice, to supply directions.  He could have saved his voice, for all the wolves knew how to get there.  A bumpy dip here, a gap in the cliffs there, and they were plunging into the sunlight.  Wolves swarmed around and into a large cave carved into the surface of the mountain.  Juneau shivered longingly.  That sun had felt good on his frosty fur.  But, he reminded himself, we must stay out of sight of Shonee in case he gets back early.  At first he wondered what was taking the others so long to start the meeting, but in time he realized that they'd already started.  It was not a bold, declarative meeting, but instead a subtle passing of information that seemed almost nonexistent.  Wishing they would speak louder, Juneau squirmed.  As soon as the dark gray elder called his name, however, he forgot to be fidgety. 

"Juneau, is it?"  The friendly twinkle had vanished from the elder's eyes.  He beckoned, and Juneau stepped forward until he was just a foot or so from those great silver-black paws.  Stretching himself to his full height, he took on a grave expression and sat down again before the wolf.  He didn't know it, but the ice around the hearts of those who doubted or shunned him was already beginning to melt.  He'd seemed like a clumsy puppy just minutes before, but now this...

"We have a problem.  You know this."  Juneau nodded silently in response.  "Our alpha is corrupt.  He usurped the lead role after our old leader" -a slight catch in the elder's gruff voice betrayed his emotion- "died."  Juneau nodded, holding captive his own sorrow.  After all, their old alpha leader was his father.  The elder scrutinized him, as if testing his emotional strength.  Then he continued:  "You are the heir of the alpha role now, Juneau.  Of course," -he was answering the questioning gleam in the pup's eyes- "you have other brothers and sisters, and no, they are not with us."  The light in the amber eyes of the pup died.  "Therefore, you are the only existing offspring that we know of to take his place."

"S-sir?"  The elder nodded in response to Juneau's query.  "W-why were we, I mean my brothers and sisters and I - why were we abandoned?"

The elder sighed heavily.  "It weighs on our consciences to this day, my boy.  You see, you're three-quarters wolf, am I correct?"  Juneau jerked a nod.  "But are you not also one quarter husky?"

"Yessir."

"Good.  Well, there are those - including me, at the time - who wished to have a pure-blooded wolf as leader after your father."  (Several of the wolves turned away and would not face Juneau anymore at this point.)  "Bering was a good and noble alpha, standing up for our clan when it seemed we could no longer hold it together.  But anyone could see the half of your father that was dog, just as we can all see it in you."

"Did the wolves, well, really mind that, sir?"  Juneau apprehensively eyed the pack spread around him.

"Yes, they did.  But despite the fact that your father Bering proved their suspicions wrong, they still did not want a half-breed leader to succeed him."

"I - I don't quite understand, sir."

"Neither do I, boy.  Neither do I."  Abruptly the old wolf got to his feet, and the meeting was finished.

The following day, there was yet another meeting; this one, however, was strategic.  Plans of battle were made, and head fighters assigned and consulted with.  Juneau felt rather left out.  Nobody wanted him to fight in an actual battle with their unjust leader.  Rumor had it that Shonee was gathering forces in the form of lone wolves or outcasts.  Soon he would attack the current Northern Heights clan and spirit away the best warriors - unharmed or otherwise.  And so now the plans of war began in earnest. 

Juneau hung around all day, even though his leg was well enough now that it needed no bandage, and missed Uncle Balto and Aunt Jenna and Brite and even Boris, the annoying tag-along Rusian snowgoose-turned-babysitter. 

One day Aspen, who had not had a chance to speak to him since the day of the first meeting, found him slumped along a craggy outcropping.  In an attempt to be positive, she tried to speak to him of things like the exciting yearly hunts they'd had, and how good a little dormouse tasted, but all she got for her trouble were a few small grunts.  Finally she crawled up beside him.  He payed her no mind whatsoever.

"Juneau son of Bering, do you want to know how I got this scar?"  Her eyes pleaded for his interest.

His expression flickered, then cleared.  "How?"

Sighing inwardly with relief, Aspen continued.  "Fighting for my clan when I was only six months old."

She'd definitely peaked his interest.  "Can I do that?"

"Do you really want this?" she retorted, motioning towards the crooked mark blazing a path down her cheek.

"If I can fight for Northern Heights to get it, yes."  Juneau's face was serious, and in it Aspen saw a clear shadow of what Juneau would be.  Strong and honorable, his young face looked much like his father's (and just a little bit like the stubborn scowl that Balto got when he was annoyed or perplexed).

"Then come with me."  Aspen motioned down the slope into a narrow crevice with a flat bottom - perfect for battle practice.  "We'll make a fighter out of you yet."

"You're missing my weak spot by just a little bit," called Aspen a few days later.  "Try to adjust your jump."

Does she even have any weak spots?  Juneau wondered.  But he obediently leaped for a spot on her shoulder, looking for good impact, and he found it.  Aspen went tumbling to the ground, and Juneau was pleased to see that she went rolling over three times before she finally stopped.  "Wow,"  she gasped, "you're not half-bad, kid."  Juneau inflated himself proudly.  In a split second she was lunging at him again, and he barely managed to scoot out of harm's way.  He then proceeded to leap onto her back and used his steady weight to push Aspen down.  Finally a buck on her part threw him to the ground, but she herself was panting hard.  "Good job, Juneau!  Let's call it a day!"

"Let's not!" 

Aspen and her trainee whirled about.  Standing before them was a compact, wiry wolf.  His blue-white fur seemed almost to glow, and his cobalt eyes were piercing and malevolent.  One great black foot after another, he advanced towards them. 

Aspen growled, deep down in her trembling thoat.  In that instant Juneau knew it was Shonee.  As the alpha leaped straight at Aspen, he did the only thing he knew to do.  He impulsively gathered his growing muscles and catapulted himself over the cliff wall.

"Get back here, you!"  Juneau paid no mind to Shonee's roaring command.  He didn't, that is, until a huge paw swiped him cleanly down from the edge of the wall.  Pulling himself into a ball, he bounced like rubber until he hit the bottom. 

"Juneau!"  Aspen was distraught.  Struggling to her paws after a blow from Shonee, she reached desperately for the pup.

"No!  Go!"  Aspen hesitated.  "GO!  NOW!"  She turned at Juneau's command and, with one last pleading look, sped over the cliff side as Juneau had done.  The wolfdog sure hoped she was going for help as he dodged yet another harsh slash from the Northern Heights leader.

Spread over the flat deck of his boat, Balto sure was having a relaxing day.  No sleds to pull, and no pups to babysit.  He paused to wonder whether he would ever have more sons and daughters to care for.  Either way, there was still nothing to do.  He sighed deeply as the midday sun warmed his back.  He flipped over until the entire beach seemed to be upside-down.  That's funny, he mused, it looks like there's a dog running across the sand. 

Then he heard the cries for help.

Rolling to an upright position, Balto barked across the beach.  An answering howl confirmed his uncertain suspicions:  It was a wolf, not a dog.  He ran to it, having all the while a horrible feeling that this involved Juneau in some way.  As he came closer, he saw that it was a female, an orange-yellow color flecked with gold.  Her deep blue eyes were fierce with panic, and the scar under her left eye stood out plainly against her pale, stark face.  "I need your help, Balto!"

"Who are you, and how do you know my-"

"There's no time.  Your nephew is in trouble, and the Northern Heights clan needs you.  Come!"

Balto came.

Pawnee took one last look at the side of the mountain where Aspen had just left to fetch Balto before he turned and galloped away.  He was sure that Juneau needed help, and fast.  He'd had just enough time to alert the clan to Shonee's return, and then given directions for Balto's boat to Aspen, because she was a faster runner than he was.  Now Pawnee needed to put every ounce of his strength into defeating Shonee.  He ran faster, faster, faster to the training grounds that Aspen and Juneau used.  He was so busy pushing himself to speed up that he almost missed the fight raging inside the pit.  Snarling, he leaped in too, without any measure of caution.

Shonee turned from his corner of the chasm.  As Juneau struggled to get free from the vice-grip of the older wolf, the alpha cackled.  "So, yet another inexperienced wimp chooses to be defeated?"

"The brave wimps choose to defeat their chicken-hearted leader," said Pawnee with spirit.  He took a step closer to the two figting canines.

Juneau used this opportunity to wrench himself free of his oppressor's clutches.  As Shonee spluttered, enraged by the 'second wimp's' comment, the wolfdog pup turned tail and ran.  Fooled by the trick, the alpha male lunged at him.  Suddenly, Juneau pivoted and ducked beneath Shonee's legs.  He clung to the pale wolf's back as he howled in pain.  Remember what Aspen taught you, the hybrid thought, and he suddenly let go.  Confused and blinded by pain, the villain spun around to meet him, but not straight-on.  Juneau rammed his small body squarely at Shonee, and they met shoulder-to-shoulder.  

It had the effect of a small, hard object hurled a long distance.  Overcome with the sharp pain of what felt like a large rock, Shonee staggered.  Pawnee took over, tackling and knocking down the leader. 

Juneau stood back, exhausted and cut-up but satisfied as the rest of the clan materialized, thundering over the wall of stone.  He could see the back elder standing at the edge, gazing at him with intense satisfaction radiating from his almond-shaped eyes.  The wolfdog grinned, and his grin only got wider when he caught a small glimpse of Balto hurling himself over the side alongside Aspen.

Before long the fight was over.  Shonee, exhausted and bruised, was firmly held in check by four wolves.  Several loners under his command had been spotted and captured.  Deprived of their leader, they gave up easily, and when the dust settled, there were a only a few scratches to prove that a battle had taken place.  Juneau, Pawnee, and Aspen had the worst marks to show of, and they were only slightly winded.  The three turned as Balto trotted up to them.

"Looks like I missed most of the fun, eh?"  Balto's gaze swept over Pawnee, Aspen, and Juneau.  It lingered on his nephew, and he nodded in satisfaction.  "You're a natural at this fighting stuff, kiddo."  He scrubbed Juneau's head.

"Are you all right?"  Pawnee moved closer to Aspen and began to lick a few cuts on her shoulder.  She smiled and winked exclusively at Juneau, who did the same.  She smirked as he turned to her, concerned.  "Of course I'm all right, silly.  My apprentice did all the fighting.  Well, almost all of it," she amended with a smile.  "Let's go back to the cave and have some dinner, shall we?  I'm starved."

After a good dinner and a barrage of questions from the others, Juneau was sleepy and contented, especially after he recalled how Shonee had been banished from the mountain, never to return.  He felt himself nodding off when a large creamy paw nudged him to wakefulness.  "Juneau?  It's me.  I need to talk to you.  The elder, Pawnee, and Aspen are waiting."  It was Balto.  He scooted the pup out of the cave entrance and into the soft twilight.  They could both make out three shadows - a scruffy, stooped one, a strong, wiry one, and a slender, sleek one.  They sat down next to their friends.

"Juneau, you have proven yourself a capable leader.  In time, you could be a great ruler of the Northern Heights clan.  However, is that what you want to do?"  The elder faced him gravely.  "If you don't want to, you don't have to."

Juneau thought of the strange humans, so tall and queer-acting, and of Cal and the other bully dogs in Nome, and of the sled dogs and a dream that he'd never see fulfilled.  He thought of Aunt Jenna and Uncle Balto and Brite and Boris and the wild, uninhabited beach, and the peaceful boat on warm summer nights, with the waves lapping against the shore.  But most of all, he remembered his father, the wolf clan leader.  He turned back to his fellow lupines.

"I want to stay here," he said slowly, "if I can still visit my aunt and uncle and my friend who lives close by."

The elder pondered the request.  Finally he spoke.  "Consider it done, boy."

The pup and his uncle jumped and rolled over and over each other in glee.  "I can still visit you!"  Juneau cried.  "And you can visit me!"

"You bet, kid!"  Balto panted happily.

Three months later....(Epilogue)

"Brite!  You're here!"  Juneau, taller and stronger than ever, bounced down the rocky mountain path to meet his friend.  She'd been to visit many times since Juneau had gone into training to become the next leader of the wolf clan.  This time around, her face was sober under the pleased mask.  He noticed, and asked her about it.

"Oh, Juneau," she whispered, "my owner decided to move south, and left me here.  I've been all on my own for the past week, and it's been miserable.  But I can handle it," she added quickly, her icy blue eyes taking on a steely look.

"Well, maybe you can stay here," Juneau said, ignoring his friend's stubborn look.  It told him that she could handle living alone, but he knew otherwise.  She might survive, but Cal and the others would torment her to no end.  Nudging her gently, he guided her up the path.

"Where are you taking me?  Back to the clan?"  Brite's tone was casual, but Juneau knew her enough to hear the excited edge in it.  She liked to wrestle with Aspen and talk with Pawnee, who was taking over the leadership role until Juneau was old enough to.  "Yes.  By the way," Juneau remembered suddenly, "There's talk about Pawnee and Aspen becoming mates."

"Really?  I knew it all along."  Brite smiled knowingly. 

Before long they'd reached the top, where wolves rushed to greet them.  The wolves all liked Brite as much as she liked them.  They eagerly agreed to the idea of her staying with them, and she spluttered her gratefulness.

"No problem," laughed Pawnee, with Aspen at his side.  "What are friends for?"

"You've never been more right," Juneau responded, butting Brite playfully.