Toby spent the remainder of the day alternately resting on the sled or running alongside it. When they stopped for the night, Exile came up to him. "Don't you think you were kind of harsh with Luna?"

Toby shook his head. The same question had been hammering away at his mind all day. "I had to be. She can be very stubborn, and I had no time to argue." Eager to change the subject, he asked, "How long will it be before we reach the area where he was last seen?"

"About four days," said Exile, knowing without asking who Toby was talking about. "But right now, I'd be more worried about other matters."

"Like what?"

"I thought you had already smelled it." Exile turned his head, pointing into the woods. "There are wolves nearby."

Wolves, thought Toby. That reminds me… "Excuse me, Exile," he said. "I have to check on something." He sniffed the air, then trotted off in the direction of the wolves.

"Are you crazy?" asked Exile. "You're heading straight toward them!"

"I know," said Toby as he disappeared. He went a long way into the woods, until he could no longer see, hear or smell the rest of the group. He wasn't worried about finding his way back; he would follow his own scent. "Northern Lights pack?" he called.

After a moment two wolves appeared from the trees around him. They were so silent he never heard them approach, and they appeared out of nowhere as if they were ghosts. "Who are you," asked one of them, "that you call our pack by name?"

Toby gulped. "My name is Toby," he said. "And I've come with a warning for you and your leader, Aleu."

The wolves seemed surprised. "How do you know our leader's name?"

Toby was getting impatient. "I don't have time to explain. I must deliver my message and return to my friends as soon as possible."

The two wolves held a hushed discussion. "Very well," they said at last. "Come with us."

Toby followed them to a cave. "Aleu," called one of the wolves. "There is a stranger here with a message for you."

A moment later a brown-gray wolfdog came out of the cave, along with a black and white wolf. The wolfdog had piercing blue eyes with a determined look in them. "Who are you?" she asked.

"My name is Toby, and I have come to warn you and your pack. There is a hunter only four days journey from here who plans to wipe out all the wolves in Alaska. I was asked to warn you."

"Who asked you to warn us?" asked Aleu.

"Your niece, Luna."

This seemed to catch Aleu's interest. "You know Luna?"

Toby nodded. "I've been her friend since we were pups," he said. In case Aleu needed more convincing, he added, "I also know Balto, your father."

"If what you say is true, why didn't Balto come to warn us himself?" asked the other wolf, whom Toby guessed to be Flint, Aleu's mate. "Or Luna, for that matter?"

"Balto's sick right now," answered Toby. "And I explicitly ordered Luna not to come for her own safety. You must be on your guard against the hunter. He will stop at nothing."

"How do you know that?" asked Aleu.

"My father," answered Toby with a snarl.

"Your father?" asked Flint. "But you're not part-wolf."

"My father's a bloodhound," explained Toby. "He was tracking the man down and almost had him when he was shot."

There was a long moment of silence as both Aleu and Flint considered what Toby had told them. Aleu turned to Flint. "I believe him," she said. "We'd better move to a safer place."

Flint nodded. "Which way was he headed?"

"Last I knew, he was headed west. He's already passed here, but he's a madman, and there's no telling where he might go next."

"Very well," said Aleu. "We'll head for Nome. It's safer there, even with less food."

Flint nodded. "Yes, I suppose it would be best to be near your family, especially if your father is sick."

Aleu smiled gratefully at Toby. "Thank you." She turned to two of the wolves. "Ruska, Shade, escort Toby back to his team."

Toby nodded. "Thank you," he said as the wolves led him away. "And by the way, would you please deliver a message to Luna for me when you get there?"

"What message?"

Toby was reluctant to tell Aleu what he had done. "Tell her…I'm sorry about the house arrest."

Aleu jerked her head back. "House arrest?"

Toby continued on his way out of the cave. "She'll know what it means." And with that he left.

Back in Nome, at least two dozen dogs were gathered in the boiler room discussing the search. As usual, Pete was dominating the discussion. "They'll never catch him now," he was saying. "They barely had a chance with Rex leading the search. But with Toby's as their leader, they don't stand a chance."

A Newfoundland scratched himself thoughtfully. "Well, I don't know about that. He is half-bloodhound."

"Ha!" sneered Pete. "He's a mutt. At least his old man is a purebred, even if he is a weakling. What can a runty mutt like Toby do?"

"A whole lot more than you are," said a voice from the back of the room.

All heads turned to see the speaker. "Balto!" several dogs gasped.

Balto was looking angrily at Pete with glassy, tired eyes. "I may not be feeling the best right now, but I've never been sick enough to pick on someone who's giving it their best shot." He looked around at the dogs in the room. "I hope you've got more sense than to listen to Pete. Toby's a good dog, much better than Pete gives him credit for. He saved my life once when Steele came back to Nome. He also saved my daughter in-law Taya from Coldblood Carson, got Steele a one-way ticket to New York, and is the best friend my granddaughter has ever had." He focused his attention on Pete again, his eyes full of warning. "So if I were you, I'd watch what I say about him." And with that he left, along with most of Pete's audience.

As they left, Pete's lips curled back in an enraged snarl. Since when do the half-breeds get all the easy pickings?

As the team drew closer to their destination, Toby grew more and more impatient. His constant shouts for them to go faster were annoying to say the least, especially when he was shouting from the sled.

Finally Exile yelled over his shoulder, "Hey! We're doing the best we can already! Any faster and we'll―"

Right at that moment one of the dogs hit a patch of ice and slipped. He tried to regain his footing, but the ground was too slippery. The sudden movement of the other dogs to compensate for the unexpected decrease in speed caused the sled to swing sideways and the runner to catch the snow. The sled's momentum then caused it to roll over, launching everything off of it. Chief Scotty was hurled from his place on the back of the sled, and Toby was thrown into a snowdrift. When the dog successfully crawled out, he saw the other dogs sprawled on the ground, tangled up in their harnesses. "Come on, guys, let's get going," he said.

Exile dragged himself to his feet, sporting a black eye. "Thanks for asking how we are."

"Come on," Toby repeated stubbornly. "We have to get going." He turned to the sled, expecting to see the chief setting it upright again. But the chief wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere near the sled. Instead, he was lying motionless with his head against a tree. "Chief!" Toby cried, running over. He nudged him, trying to get a response. But there was nothing.

"Is he dead?" asked one of the dogs.

Toby held his face close to the chief's and felt a slow movement of air. "He's alive," he reported, "but I don't know how long he's got."

"What do we do now?" asked another dog.

The wind was picking up. Toby could hear it, feel it, and the sky was beginning to darken. He looked around. Snow was beginning to fall, and they didn't have any chance of getting the sled back up. It was like a scene from one of the stories his mother had told him as a puppy. The ones where he would imagine himself as Balto. But he wasn't Balto now. Instead, he was Steele, the dog whose obsession with his job and refusal to accept help had doomed his team. And this time there was no Balto to save the day. The situation he'd gotten them into because of his impatience and desire to exact vengeance weighed heavily on his mind and heart, and he felt totally and utterly helpless. Not only that, but he also felt angry and disgusted with himself. He had taken responsibility for the entire team upon himself, and what had he done with it? He'd used it as leverage to avenge his father and endangered them all. He cast his eyes downward, his heart feeling like an unbearably heavy weight. "We're going to die out here," he whimpered.