Toby had felt pretty smug when the grown-ups finally elected to have him be the one going in, but as he slipped through the door into what had once been the building's furnace room – now Carson's temporary lodging – he could hardly have been more nervous. Snores emanated from within, giving him a little confidence.

Just focus on the goal, he thought, and think about anything at all except how much faster he can get to it than you can.

Naturally, this did not give him a whole lot of confidence. Trying to stop his teeth from chattering, he sniffed the air. He could detect metal in the room, but the boiler would lead him off-scent on that. He tried again, and picked up something much more specific: Gunpowder. He knew that scent well enough from visits to his father's house; it was a well-known fact that Nome's sheriff never went anywhere without a gun.

Nose in the air, he tracked the unpleasant odor, hoping it would lead him to, say, the top of that stack of crates across the room from Carson's bed. His hopes looked to be in vain as he trailed it closer and closer to the slumbering form.

Maybe I've just got the wrong gunpowder, he thought. I'll bet he keeps a supply of ammunition under his bed, just like the chief.

Still at a distance, he searched with his eyes in fervent hope. He was just breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of a box under the crude bed – made of crates, boards, and a number of blankets and animal skins – when he caught a glimpse of a handgun butt protruding from under Carson's pillow, just inches from the man's shaggy face.

Toby groaned. Sometimes, he thought, being a hero really, really stinks.

He nearly passed out from holding his breath as he made his way up onto the bed and gingerly put his mouth around the gun handle. If this thing goes off, he thought to himself, We'll probably both be blown away.

Before hecould finish worry about that oh-so-cheerful thought, Carson stirred, turned over, and laid a hand on top of him. Toby almost died of fright or yipped in alarm, either of which would have been disastrous. Stay calm, he told himself. Stay calm, don't panic, stay calm, don't panic, staycalm don'tpanic staycalmdon'tpanic...

Carson opened an eye. "What...?" he asked drowsily.

Toby decided it was now or never. Letting go of the gun, he whirled around and sank his teeth into Carson's hand. The man leaped up howling as Toby let go, scrambled a moment, and grabbed the gun. He was off – if you'll pardon the expression – like a shot.

"Come back here!" bellowed Nicholas Carson, charging after him. The man almost got him, but managed only to crack his head on the door as Toby slipped through the hole. Even then the pup was nearly flattened as the door, weakened by years, fell outward.

Cursing and rbbing his head, Carson looked up to find himself face-to-face with a half-dozen dogs at least; Copper, Blaze, three others... but front and center was his former pride and joy, eyes fairly red with fury and jaws dripping in anticipation of long-overdue vengeance.

"Get him!" Taya barked.

Carson was immediately engulfed not only by the grown-up dogs, but by Toby and Luna, who between them went after his feet – the only part of him not already claimed by a mob of enraged dogs a half-dozen strong. Somehow, the evil man succeeded in extricating himself from the pack and fled, leaving more than half of the fabric he'd been wearing in the jaws of his one-time captives. They almost caught him again before he slipped through another door in the furnace room and fled into the snow.

"Shud weeh...? ased Toby before spitting out half of Carson's sock. "Should we go after him?" he asked.

"I'll get him," Taya said before Copper moved to stop her.

"He won't get far," he pointed out. "We've got to remember the real fight – Steele."

One of the dogs pricked up his ears. "Did you say Steele's back?" he asked. "That louse almost killed my human back in 25! I was only a pup at the time, or I would have-"

"Save it," Blaze interrupted. He looked at Copper and Taya. "You two have more of a stake in this; you take these pups and get back to Nome. I'll help free the other dogs here."

Copper nodded his gratitude. "Thank you, Blaze – and thank you for whatever it was you did for my wife while she was here."

That seemed to take Taya's mind off her anger at Carson and Steele for just a moment. "Yeah," she agreed, looking at Blaze. Her eyes, which had been alight with bloodlust moments before, now flashed for a moment to genuine thanks. "It was good to hear about... about my mother," she said at last. "I wish I could have met her."

Blaze smiled. "You meet her every time you look in a mirror," he replied, waxing philosophical. "Now, off with you four. You three," he added to the other dogs who had been released, "come on. We've got a lot of work to do here, now that Carson's gone."

"Alright," one of the dogs agreed, "but as soon as we're done, I call dibs on Old Nick."

Taya's face darkened, and Copper was more than a little worried when he heard her mutter, "Not if I get to him first."

Part of him was afraid because of the dangerous light in her eyes. The other part was afraid because, deep down, he liked it.