A Forest Divided (9 page)

Clear Sky kept moving.

“We're not going near there, are we?” Thunder stopped beside a yew bush.

“We might find some kittypet recruits.” Clear Sky halted and turned. “Fluttering Bird wants us to spread and grow, remember?”

“But
kittypets
?” Thunder remembered Tom, the kittypet father of Turtle Tail's kits. He'd stolen them just to make Turtle Tail suffer, and she'd been killed trying to rescue them.

“Are you scared of them?” Clear Sky challenged.

“Of course not!” Thunder glared at him. “But they can't hunt or fight. What good are they to us?”

“We can train them.”

Thunder hardly heard Clear Sky's words. Paws were scrabbling over leaves close by. He pricked his ears. Something was moving beyond the yew.

“Listen, do you hear that?” he hissed at Clear Sky.

Clear Sky whisked his tail. “It's probably a squirrel. We can hunt it on the way home.” He headed toward the Twolegplace.

“We should catch it now.” They'd already missed one today. Had Clear Sky forgotten it was leaf-bare? They couldn't afford to ignore prey.

“Then go catch it,” Clear Sky called back.

Thunder ducked under the yew. Its dripping branches scraped his spine. Through its tangy scent he could smell more than squirrel. A second scent touched his nose—a familiar smell. His hackles lifted as he heard the crunch of tooth on bone. Dragging his belly over the cold wet earth, he peered out through the fronds on the far side.

A golden she-cat was bent over a dead squirrel. From its scent it was freshly caught. Thunder unsheathed his claws. This cat's tabby markings, and her white chest and paws, were so familiar they made his heart ache.

He slid from under the yew and glared at her. “Star Flower.”

Star Flower turned, gazing at him with luminous green eyes. “Hi, Thunder. What are you doing in the forest? I thought you were a moor cat.”

Thunder bristled. “What am
I
doing?” Didn't she realize she was hunting on Clear Sky's territory? “How can you show your face here after—”

She cut him off. “After what?” She tipped her head, her gaze steady. “After you murdered my father?”

She was talking about the rogue cat called One Eye, who had taken over Clear Sky's territory by force, viciously
attacking any cat who disobeyed him. The cats of the forest
had
to stop him! But Star Flower had loved her father, despite his obvious faults.
Just like I loved her,
he thought.

He no longer had feelings for her, though. He was nearly sure of it.

“It wasn't like that,” Thunder insisted.

“Really?” Star Flower swished her thick tail and turned back to her squirrel.

Thunder stared at her, bristling with indignation. If they hadn't stopped him, One Eye would have killed every cat on the moor.

Star Flower glanced at him. “Do you want a bite?”

Heat flashed beneath Thunder's pelt. “A bite? Are we allies now? Don't you care about
anything
?”

Star Flower lifted her head, her green eyes glimmering. “I care enough to forgive you.”

“Forgive
me
?” Thunder snorted. “You're the one who betrayed us!”

“And you're the one who helped kill my father,” Star Flower replied steadily.

The yew rustled behind Thunder.

“That wasn't my son's fault.” Clear Sky pushed his way through the branches. “If you want to blame any cat for One Eye's death, blame me.”

Star Flower's gaze flitted thoughtfully over Clear Sky. “You're the cat who took my father in, aren't you?”

Thunder threw her a warning look—Clear Sky wouldn't
want to be reminded of his mistake. He blinked with surprise as Clear Sky dipped his head.

“Yes, that was me.”

How can he be so polite?

Star Flower's hackles softened. “That was kind of you.” She brushed past Thunder and stopped a whisker from Clear Sky's muzzle. “Would you be kind once more and take
me
in?”

Thunder stared at her.

“It's hard for a loner,” she went on, her mew silky. “I know you don't trust me, but you should. I was loyal to my father to the end.” Her gaze flicked briefly toward Thunder. “Isn't that
true
loyalty?”

Thunder swallowed back anger.
Is she saying I'm disloyal for leaving Clear Sky all those moons ago?
He watched his father nervously. Would Star Flower's honeyed words work on him? Relief washed his pelt as Clear Sky shook his head.

“I can't let you join us,” he told her. “Your father hurt a lot of my cats. They wouldn't thank me for bringing you back to camp.”

Star Flower blinked slowly at Clear Sky. “And what if your cats told you they didn't mind?” she asked softly. “Would you take me in then?”

Clear Sky shook his head and turned away. “I can't,” he growled. “Not after what your father did.”

Thunder saw anger flash in Star Flower's eyes.

“Thunder, please!” She turned toward him. He tried to avoid her bright green gaze, but it hooked him. “It's going to be a long leaf-bare.” There was fear in her mew. “I don't know
if I'll make it through by myself. Now that One Eye is dead, I have no cat to help me hunt.”

Thunder forced himself to look away, feeling Star Flower's desperate gaze burning through his pelt. Was he wrong to punish her for her father's sins? She was alone now. Without One Eye to bully her, perhaps she could be trusted. Perhaps she'd simply been one of his victims. Thunder felt his heart twist. “Clear Sky!” He called to his father. “Maybe we should give her a chance.”

Clear Sky glanced over his shoulder. “She's One Eye's daughter!”

“That's not her fault!” Thunder knew better than most that a cat didn't have to follow in their father's paw steps. Star Flower's glossy pelt brushed his flank. Energy sparked through him like lightning. Her scent was so familiar, so warm. His mind whirled. He had to persuade Clear Sky to take her in. He couldn't leave her to starve. “You wanted to bring all the cats together!” he called. “Why not Star Flower? She was one of us once.”

Clear Sky's blue eyes narrowed.

“Fluttering Bird wanted us to unite so we can spread and grow.” Thunder pressed. “The more cats we have, the stronger we'll be.”

Clear Sky glanced at Star Flower's squirrel. “I guess she can hunt.”

“I can!” Star Flower snatched up the squirrel.

Clear Sky turned away, his tail twitching. “Bring her along.
You
can explain it to your campmates.”

Purring, Star Flower followed Clear Sky past the yew.

Thunder walked behind her, his belly tightening.
You can explain it.
His paws pricked nervously as he pictured Lightning Tail's expression when he led Star Flower into camp.
He'll think I've gone crazy.

Gray Wing dropped into a hunting
crouch. High above him, faint sunlight filtered through the canopy and striped the forest floor. His tail twitched with excitement as he saw a lizard dart from beneath the fallen tree. He shifted his weight. Pine needles crunched like snow beneath his paws. As the lizard skittered from its hiding place, Gray Wing leaped.

Needles sprayed as he landed. His paws slid clumsily, but he hooked the lizard's tail with a foreclaw and darted ahead to give it a killing bite. It lay dead at his paws, and he sniffed its scales. They were a strange texture, smooth and slimy, unlike the prey Gray Wing usually hunted.
River Ripple eats them,
he told himself as he lapped at the blood welling at the lizard's neck. Its flesh might feel weird, but its blood tasted just like that of any other prey. Holly's kits might have fun picking at it.

Gray Wing straightened. The tightness in his breathing, which had been bothering him all morning, hadn't eased even when the sun's gentle leaf-bare warmth had melted the dew from the forest. The fresh tang of pine seemed to tickle the inside of his chest, making him cough and wheeze. He remembered feeling much better in the fresh winds of the moor and,
for a moment, felt a sudden longing for his old home that was like a blunt claw snagging at his belly fur.

You live here now,
he told himself. As he bent to pick up the lizard between his teeth, pine needles swished behind him.

He tensed.

Fern?

He'd seen no sign of the half-tailed she-cat since they'd arrived in the forest nearly a half-moon ago. But that didn't mean she wasn't lurking among the unfamiliar scents and deep shadows of the pine forest.

He turned, unsheathing his claws.

“Hi, Gray Wing.” Pebble Heart padded toward him.

Gray Wing's fur smoothed. “It's you.”

Pebble Heart's whiskers twitched teasingly. “Were you hoping I was Slate? She said she might visit today.”

“No.” Gray Wing shifted his paws, wishing that Slate
were
the only outsider who came here. He looked forward to seeing the dark gray she-cat from Wind Runner's camp on the moor. She had visited the pine forest several times since they'd arrived, to see how the cats were settling into their new home; she'd offered advice where she could. It had been Slate who'd suggested they make their camp between two wide swaths of bramble near the heart of the forest.

“It'll be easy to defend,” she'd told Tall Shadow.

Tall Shadow had looked surprised. “Against what?”

Slate had shrugged. “Dogs. Foxes. Twolegs. These woods are like any territory. You'll need a safe heart in your new home.”

Tall Shadow had looked crestfallen, and Gray Wing had stepped forward. “Tall Shadow has been dreaming about this for a long time.” He caught Slate's eye.
Don't spoil her happiness here.

But Tall Shadow had lifted her chin. “You're right, Slate,” she meowed. “I've been foolish, trying to imagine that danger won't find us here. Of course we should be prepared. Show us the brambles. We'll build a camp where our kits can play safely.”

They had built the camp, working hard for days among the prickly stems to shape the swaths into a fierce ring of thorns no intruder would dare penetrate. They'd threaded stems together, twining bush with bush until brambles encircled a wide, needle-strewn clearing.

Gray Wing could see it now, beyond Pebble Heart: a dark tangled mass, sheltering in the shadow of the pines.

“You're wheezing.” Pebble Heart's observation shook him from his thoughts.

“My breathing used to ease by sunhigh.” Gray Wing glanced ruefully at the sun glittering through the tops of the pines.

“Come back to the camp,” Pebble Heart ordered. “I've got some fresh coltsfoot.”

“You found some?” Gray Wing blinked with surprise as Pebble Heart began to head toward the brambles.

“It's the last of the season, protected from frost beneath a holly bush.” Pebble Heart slowed to let Gray Wing fall in beside him. “Next to the Thunderpath.”

“You went to the Thunderpath by yourself?” Gray Wing's
belly tightened. “You shouldn't—”

Pebble Heart silenced him with a look. “I'm not a kit anymore. You don't have to protect me all the time.”

Gray Wing hardly heard him. There was a pain in his chest, like countless thorns were piercing his insides. He stopped and tried to draw breath, but couldn't.

“Gray Wing?” Pebble Heart turned sharply.

Panic whirled in Gray Wing's mind. He sank onto his belly, stretching his neck as he gasped for breath. The world began to spin around him. Pine needles swished beside his ear, and he felt Pebble Heart's paws pummeling his flank. He closed his eyes and tried to let go of the fear that gripped him.
I'll be okay.
Slowly he began to relax as Pebble Heart worked his way along his side, kneading his chest and then his back until Gray Wing's breathing eased.

“Thank you,” Gray Wing rasped.

Pebble Heart turned to leave. “I'll bring you some coltsfoot.”

“Wait!” Gray Wing heaved himself to his paws. “I can come with you.” He didn't want to seem as helpless as prey.

“Your breathing's been bad since we came here.” Pebble Heart gazed at him gravely. “I think you should eat coltsfoot each morning.”

“Do you have enough to spare?” A long leaf-bare stretched ahead. “What if another cat needs some?”

“I've picked plenty, and there are still some dried leaves back in the hollow.” Pebble Heart pressed his shoulder to Gray Wing's. “Are you ready?”

Gray Wing nodded and padded forward, trying not to lean too heavily on the young tom.
He's taking care of me now.
It seemed a lifetime ago that he'd rescued Pebble Heart and his littermates from Twolegplace. Yet it was hard to let go of the protectiveness he felt for Turtle Tail's kit. Should he warn him about Fern? And about Slash, who'd sent her to spy?
Not yet.
There'd been no sign of Fern since they arrived; perhaps the rogue had never come to the pine forest. Gray Wing hoped that she had used her chance to escape Slash and run—far away from here.

“You go first.” Pebble Heart stopped in front of the bramble tunnel that led into camp.

Gray Wing ducked and padded through.

Tall Shadow and Jagged Peak sat near the far end of the clearing, their heads bowed in quiet conversation. Holly was rearranging her nest's moss lining while the kits tumbled in the pine needles behind her. Mud Paws and Mouse Ear were sharing tongues in the shadow of the camp wall.

“Hi, Gray Wing!” Mouse Ear looked up. “Did you catch anything?”

My catch!
He'd left it behind. “A lizard,” he croaked.

Mouse Ear hopped up and padded closer, stopping beside Gray Wing. “Can cats
eat
lizards?”

“River Ripple does,” Gray Wing told him.

Mouse Ear wrinkled his nose. “I guess we can't be choosy.” He tasted the air. “Where is it?”

“I left it outside camp.”

Dew Nose turned from her game. “Can we go and get it?”
She glanced excitedly at Eagle Feather and Storm Pelt.

Holly straightened. “Only if Mouse Ear goes with you.” She looked across the clearing to the tabby tom. “Is that okay?”

Mouse Ear purred. “Of course.” He swished his tail happily as the kits charged toward him. “Which one of you is going to carry it back?”

“Me!” Dew Nose pelted for the bramble tunnel.

Eagle Feather was on her tail. “Not if I find it first.”

Mouse Ear waited for Storm Pelt to catch up. “While those two are racing around,” he whispered to the solemn young kit, “
we'll
find it, and
you
can carry it home.”

Storm Pelt's whiskers twitched and he trotted toward the camp entrance.

“Don't let them out of your sight!” Holly called.

Mouse Ear flicked his tail as he ducked into the tunnel. “I won't.”

Pebble Heart was already at the far side of the clearing, squeezing beneath the brambles. He wriggled out a moment later, a soft green leaf hanging from his jaws.

He hurried back to Gray Wing and dropped it onto the damp ground. “How are you feeling?”

“I've felt better.” The pain was gone but Gray Wing's chest was still tight. He was relieved to see the coltsfoot. Crouching, he began to chew on the leaf stalk, its familiar bitter tang bursting over his tongue.

“I'll bring one to your nest every morning,” Pebble Heart promised.

“I'll come and get it,” said Gray Wing, with a jerk of his
nose. Irritation prickled in his belly. He knew Pebble Heart was only trying to help, but he hated being treated like an invalid. Was this how Jagged Peak felt when the cats made allowances for his lameness?

Pebble Heart shrugged. “Okay.”

Gray Wing chewed another mouthful of coltsfoot and, feeling his chest loosen, sat up. He nodded toward the small hole under the bramble that Pebble Heart had gotten the leaf from. Beside it was Pebble Heart's nest, hardly more than a heap of pine twigs lined with moss. “You must be cold sleeping there,” he observed. “We should build you a den.”

“I'm no colder than any other cat.” Pebble Heart pointed his muzzle toward the nests dotted around the edge of the clearing, twig piles like his own. Gray Wing's lay beside Tall Shadow's, a few tail-lengths from Mud Paws's and Mouse Ear's. Holly and Jagged Peak had made a large nest on the other side of the clearing where they could wrap themselves around their kits and keep them warm.

Gray Wing narrowed his eyes. “If we unravel the longest bramble stems and pull them away from the bush, we could use them to weave shelters around our nests.”

Holly pricked her ears and padded closer. “That's a good idea,” she meowed. “I worry about the next snowfall. There's no broom of gorse here to shelter under.”

Pebble Heart met her anxious gaze. “I was planning on digging out earth beneath the brambles. I thought I could hollow out a den that way.”

“Yes!” Gray Wing felt excitement rushing beneath his pelt
as his breathing returned to normal. “We could dig sleeping hollows and weave bramble stems over them. The sooner we make this camp into a real home, the better.”

“Great!” Holly nodded eagerly. “Which side of the clearing do you think would be the most sheltered for the kits?”

He didn't need to taste the air to know where the coldest wind blew—he'd spent enough nights shivering in his nest. He nodded toward the far end of the camp. “The bramble wall over there will keep off the leaf-bare breezes.” He lifted his nose toward a hole high in the canopy. Weak sunlight filtered through. “And you'll get sunshine, which will burn off early frosts.”

“Pebble Heart.” Mud Paws limped across the clearing toward the young tom. “I wrenched my shoulder chasing a squirrel yesterday. Do you have anything to ease the stiffness?”

Pride swelled in Gray Wing's chest to see how the cats were beginning to rely on the young tom for help. He hoped Turtle Tail, up among the spirit cats, could see how important her kit had become to his campmates.

“A comfrey lining in your nest should help,” Pebble Heart told the brown tom. “But I'll need to go out and search for some. I've only collected coltsfoot and nettle so far.”

Go out?
For the last half-moon, Pebble Heart and the rest of the cats had stayed close to camp. But now Gray Wing's ear twitched with worry. Fern could be out there. Maybe Slash, too. Pebble Heart seemed to sense Gray Wing's concern, and he glanced at Mud Paws, who instantly gave a nod.

“I'll come with you,” the brown tom offered. “Four eyes are better than two.”

Relief washed Gray Wing's pelt. “Stay together,” he warned.

Pebble Heart flashed him a questioning look. “Is something worrying you?”

“No.” Gray Wing meowed quickly. “But we don't know our new territory yet. It's better to be safe than sorry.”