DogForge by Casey Calouette Read Free Book Online Page B

upon your shoulders.”
    Denali stood and felt as alone as she could. She saw no reason to reply, it was a judgment, not a statement.
    “You have three days,” Samus said. “Then we leave for the starport—”
    “Light of men,” the elders echoed.
    “—for the trials.”
    The group broke and the elders melted back into the waking camp. Samus glared at Denali before leaving. He paused, relieved himself on the edge of the building, and trotted off.
    Denali looked to the ground and felt ashamed of herself. Not for what she’d done, but for what she said. “I—”
    “I know,” Grat said quietly.
    “What if I don’t get enough?” Denali asked, picturing the heaps of salvage necessary to appease the machine gods and be granted entry to the trial.
    Grat exhaled and made a loud flapping noise with his lips. “Quality, not quantity,” he said, and stood. “Just like you.”
    Denali looked up and saw forgiving eyes, knowing eyes, eyes of her father.
    The structure was like a giant insect laid down on a rocky shore and plucked apart by tiny ants. The metal shell was cracked, worn, and grit blasted by the sands and time. Well worn trails led to the larger access points and the dogs still trekked in and out.
    Grat plodded forward and picked the trail that led towards the center of the structure. It was the least traveled path. A crease in the hull was too small to admit any but the smallest females. To Denali, the crack was plenty wide, she knew the spot well as she’d helped Barley many a day, but never on her own.
    The sky above them filled with clouds. The mountains funneled and channeled the stone gray into rising funnels. Snowflakes fell at random moments, just enough to pepper their fur with white. It looked like the storm might blow over.
    Grat led her to the opening and turned to face her. He stuck his muzzle into the crack and inhaled deeply. “Quality. Not quantity.”
    Denali knew that Grat couldn’t smell a thing. His nose was so worn that he had a hard time smelling dinner. He was doing it for her benefit. She stepped closer and sniffed.
    It smelled of old things. Dust. Plastics. A decay of time. There was also that smell of men. Long dead smells. But, to her surprise, also a smell of different things. Something had been breached.
    “Kalus tells me they breached a new chamber, none can fit through the openings around it. Get in and be quiet about it. He will be waiting,” Grat said.
    “Why here?” Denali asked. It was a shorter trip near the main entrance.
    “No one can follow you out.” Grat glanced towards the pack members who worked lower on the slope. “Some think you don’t deserve this, don’t give them the chance to do you harm.”
    Denali looked back at Grat and wondered how much he knew. “I’ll show them.”
    “I know,” he said. His great nose nudged her side.
    She smiled and stepped into the edge of the crack. It was wide enough that three of her could have walked abreast. For some reason she turned to Grat and asked, “Who was your father?”
    He seemed taken back by the question. His eyes drooped and took on a heavy look. “A different dog than I.”
    The passage narrowed almost immediately. It was cool inside, the sort of chill that never seemed to go away. The walls were gnawed smooth with any protrusion chewed away. Stubs of wire, chewed conduit, and tooth worn metal marked the way.
    A still light illuminated the path. It came from the corners, like the residue of a sunset that was never swept away. While it wasn’t dark inside, it was definitely not light.
    Denali listened and crept forward slowly. The only sound was her claws clacking on the floor. She walked slower, she could smell the wider passage ahead. Finally she came to an old thing with a smooth top. She propped herself up and scanned down the hall.
    A dog, wide in the shoulders and narrow in the waist, pulled an empty caribou hide sled. His eyes focused on the ground in front of him and each step was a