A Forest Divided (23 page)

Thunder felt a stab of sympathy for his father. “It wasn't like that,” he argued. “He made a mistake. He was only trying to protect what was his.”

“He killed a cat who'd helped raise him!” Quiet Rain fought back a cough, her voice breaking.

“And he will never forgive himself.” Thunder realized that he was actually defending Clear Sky. “He learned from his mistake and he'll never let anything like that happen again.”

Quiet Rain watched him, her gaze curious. “You must love your father very much.”

Love him?
Before Thunder could answer, he heard paw steps crunching outside. Opening his mouth, he tasted the scents of Clear Sky and Star Flower. Fur brushed against the bramble den.

“She doesn't want to see me again.” Clear Sky's whisper sounded through the wall.

“Don't be mouse-brained,” Star Flower answered him sharply. “She's your mother and she's sick. I just wish I'd had a chance to talk to One Eye before
he
died. But I didn't. You must make your peace with Quiet Rain before—”

“Before what?” Quiet Rain cut her off. Her old ears were as sharp as Thunder's. “Who's out there, planning my death?”

Star Flower padded through the entrance. She locked eyes with Quiet Rain, then slowly dipped her head. “I didn't mean you were going to die. I just wanted Clear Sky to understand how important the time we have with our kin is.”

Quiet Rain's gaze slipped past her toward the entrance. “Well, come in, Clear Sky.”

Thunder moved aside to let his father slide into the den.

Clear Sky crouched in front of his mother. “I thought you didn't want to see me again,” he murmured miserably.

Star Flower snorted. “She
won't
if you whine like a kit.”

Quiet Rain's whiskers twitched with amusement as she blinked at Star Flower. “Who are you?”

“I'm Clear Sky's mate. My name is Star Flower.”

Quiet Rain's gaze flicked between her and Thunder. “What do you two see in this fox-heart?” she asked, glancing at Clear Sky, who pressed his belly to the earth.

“Get up!” she snapped at him. “These two deserve better than a sniveling piece of prey.”

Clear Sky straightened. Thunder felt a wave of pity for his father. He had never seen him look so defeated. Suddenly, he realized where Clear Sky must have inherited his arrogance—and his cruelty. “Don't be too hard on him, Quiet Rain,” Star
Flower murmured softly. “A lot has changed for him this past moon. He's only recently learned that I'm carrying his kits.”

“You are?” Quiet Rain blinked, then turned to Thunder. “You'll have siblings.”

Thunder's mind whirled. Star Flower's kits would be his kin.
But I live in a different camp now.
He would never truly know them.

A mew interrupted his thoughts.

“Quiet Rain?” Gray Wing was outside the den. “May we come in?”

“Who's
we
?” Quiet Rain narrowed her eyes against the light as she peered toward the entrance.

“Me and Jagged Peak.”

“Very well.”

As Gray Wing and Jagged Peak filed in, Thunder shuffled closer to the edge of the den, the bramble wall jabbing at his cheek.

Gray Wing dipped his head to Quiet Rain. “How are you this morning?”

“I've been better,” Quiet Rain grunted. She looked at Gray Wing's injured leg. He'd washed the blood from the fur, but a ring showed where the Twoleg trap had dug in. “How's your leg?”

“Sore, but I can still hunt. I just caught a shrew in the forest.”

“
I
caught a wren,” Jagged Peak chimed in. “I can get it for you if you're hungry.”

Quiet Rain shuddered. “No.”

“But you must keep your strength up,” Gray Wing urged her. “If you don't eat, you'll never get well.”

Jagged Peak frowned at him. “Don't nag her. She's sick.”

Clear Sky nudged between them. “If she wants food,
I'll
get it.”

“She doesn't want food,” Jagged Peak snapped. “Haven't you upset her enough already without bullying her now?”

“I wasn't bullying her!” Clear Sky bristled. “I was offering her food.”

“Be quiet!” Star Flower shouldered her way between them. “Your mother needs rest. More than that, she needs to see that her kits can get along without
fighting
!”

Thunder blinked at Star Flower, a realization hitting him like icy water. Perhaps Star Flower would have been the wrong mate for him, in the end. She was ruthless and cunning in a way that Thunder couldn't ever be. But she was just what Clear Sky needed—a smart, no-nonsense cat who wasn't afraid to speak her mind. With Star Flower's reason to curb his temper, Clear Sky might become the strong leader he always wanted to be.

And perhaps he'll be a better father to
her
kits than he was to me.
Sadness twisted Thunder's heart, but he ignored it.
I'm not a kit anymore. I'm a leader. What's past is past.

“Quiet Rain?” Jagged Peak's anxious mew jerked him back into the moment. The tom was sniffing his mother's matted pelt.

Quiet's Rain's eyes were closed, her flanks trembling with each breath.

Thunder stiffened. “Should I go and find Pebble Heart?”

Gray Wing turned to him with wide, anxious eyes. “Perhaps she's just sleeping—”

A shriek cut him off. “My kits!” Holly wailed from the clearing, her cry sharp with fear. “Where are my kits?”

The kits! Clear Sky was first
out of the den. The numbness, which had clung to him since Quiet Rain had clawed his nose, melted. He skidded to a halt beside Holly. “When did you see them last?”

Her eyes were wide with panic, scanning the camp as though she might have missed something.

Clear Sky thrust his muzzle closer. “Holly, answer me. When did you see them?”

She froze and met his gaze. “This morning . . . when I chased them from the den. They'd been begging me to let them play in the snow. Fern was still sleeping. I just wanted some peace.”

“I shooed them away from Thunder and told them to go and find something useful to do.” Jagged Peak stood a tail-length away, guilt brimming in his blue eyes.

“Don't blame yourself. This is no cat's fault,” Clear Sky told them sharply. “But we must find them, quickly. They could freeze in this snow.”

Thunder and Gray Wing stopped beside Jagged Peak.

Star Flower padded past them. “Where should we look?”

Clear Sky's mind whirled. This forest was wide, and every tree looked the same. It would be easy to get lost among the straight, dark trunks.

Tall Shadow ducked in through the camp entrance. “I can't pick up any scent of them near camp,” she puffed. “The wind is too brisk. And there's no sign of paw tracks. Only the ones Mud Paws, Mouse Ear, and Sun Shadow left.”

Thunder's eyes lit up. “They might have gone after them!” He began to pace. “They watched them leave. They might have followed in their tracks. They have such small paws; it would be hard to see their prints in churned-up snow.”

Tall Shadow nodded. “In that case, they'll be heading for the moor.”

Jagged Peak started for the camp entrance. “I'll follow the tracks.”

“I'll come with you,” Holly told him.

Thunder swished his tail over the snow. “I'll head for the oak forest, in case Mud Paws went that way first.”

“Let me come.” Star Flower stared at the orange-and-white tom. “I grew up in the forest, and I can show you every hiding place.”

“Why would they be hiding?” Thunder argued.

“When they realize how cold and hungry they are,” Star Flower countered, “they'll find a sheltered spot and wait for help.”

“Okay.”

Clear Sky blinked as Thunder nodded and headed out of camp after Star Flower.
They're working together!

Tall Shadow lifted her muzzle. “I'll check the Thunderpath,” she growled darkly.

Clear Sky's belly tightened. She wanted to search for small bodies in the snow. “Where should I look?” he asked.

Tall Shadow stared at him. “You?” She sounded as though she hadn't expected him to join the search.

“Of course!” he growled. “Do you think I'd sit on my tail while three kits were lost in the snow?”

“Search the pines,” Gray Wing told him. “I'll come with you.”

Clear Sky glanced at his brother's injured paw. “You can't travel fast,” he pointed out. “And someone should stay with Quiet Rain.”

“She has Pebble Heart,” Gray Wing argued.

Tall Shadow pointed her muzzle toward the nest of pine branches. Pebble Heart was curled deep in the middle, sound asleep. “He's exhausted, Gray Wing. I think you should stay.”

Gray Wing gave a frustrated sigh, but then nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Besides,” Clear Sky chimed in, “someone should be here if the kits find their own way home.”

The entrance to Holly's den rustled. Clear Sky saw a black she-cat pad out, blinking sleep from her eyes.

“What's going on?” she yawned.

Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. Was Tall Shadow taking in rogues too? This one seemed scrawny. Scars marked her flanks.

“Fern, you're awake.” Gray Wing padded toward the black she-cat. “How are you?”

Fern glanced anxiously around the clearing. “Where is everyone?”

“Holly's kits are missing,” Gray Wing told her. “They're looking for them.”

Fern's eyes widened. “Dew Nose and Eagle Feather?”

“And Storm Pelt,” Tall Shadow added. “Jagged Peak and Holly are heading for the moor. I was about to check the Thunderpath.”

“Let me come,” Fern begged. “I know their scent better than any cat. I've been sleeping next to their nest all night.”

“Are you ready now?”

“Yes.” Fern raced for the camp entrance, kicking up snow. Tall Shadow bounded after her.

Clear Sky met Gray Wing's anxious gaze. “We'll find them,” he promised.

Gray Wing glanced up at the canopy. Blue sky showed beyond. “Once the sun sets, the forest will freeze.”

“They'll be back in their nests by then.” Worry jabbed beneath Clear Sky's pelt.
I hope I'm right.
There was so much territory to search. But surely the kits couldn't have gone far? “I'd better go.” He padded toward the entrance and nosed his way out of camp.

The forest floor was white. Snow piled at the roots of the tall pines. Clear Sky tasted the air. He could smell Tall Shadow's scent leading toward the Thunderpath. Jagged Peak's and Holly's were already stale, but he could see the churned
snow where they'd headed for the moor. He made his way away from their tracks, breaking fresh snow as he trekked deeper into the pine forest.

Scanning the ground, he narrowed his eyes. Small tracks broke the whiteness between the trees ahead. Had the kits passed this way? He broke into a run, reaching the trail in a moment. His heart sank as he breathed in the scent of a squirrel. He could see its tiny paw prints at the foot of a pine, and the clumps of snow it had dislodged as it scooted up the trunk.

He moved on, keeping his nose low. Perhaps the kits' paw steps were too light to break the surface. The cold air had crusted the snow. They could have traveled over it, leaving no mark so long as they kept moving and the warmth of their paws didn't have time to melt the snow.

His own paws already ached from the cold. His heart quickened with fear. A small kit with nothing but fluff to keep out the chill would surely freeze fast in this weather.

“Dew Nose!” His call echoed between the trees. “Eagle Feather! Storm Pelt!”

The only answer was from a crow, which cawed as though amused by his fear. Its wings beat above his head, and he glanced up instinctively as it fluttered among the branches of a pine.

A small squeak sounded above him.

Clear Sky frowned, puzzled for a moment. It sounded like a kit, but why would it be all the way up in the tree?

Another mew rang from the pine branches.

He craned his neck. Could the kits have climbed to safety?

“It's coming closer!” Dew Nose's mew rang clear through the cold air.

Clear Sky froze as he glimpsed her splotchy brown pelt. The kits were clinging to a branch high above his head. Storm Pelt and Eagle Feather cowered behind her. On the branch above them, black feathers glinted in a shaft of sunshine.

The crow!
Clear Sky's chest tightened. It was bigger than the kits. With a shudder he remembered watching crows on the Thunderpath, picking at fresh-kill on the stone, their long talons pinning the prey to the ground as they tore strips of flesh away with their strong, sharp beaks.

“Dew Nose! I'm coming!” Fear scorching beneath his pelt, Clear Sky circled the tree. His neck ached from looking up. The crow hopped down a branch and began to sidle toward the kits.

Eagle Feather let out a squeal of terror, shuffling backward.

“Stay away from us!” Dew Nose lifted a paw and lashed out with a hiss.

Storm Pelt cowered behind her, his belly pressed hard against the bark.

The crow only had to knock one of the kits from the branch to turn it into fresh-kill.

Clear Sky reached up and sank his claws into the pine trunk, relieved as he felt the softness of the wood. Hooking his hind claws in behind him, he pushed himself up. Groaning with the effort, he began to haul himself higher. His muscles burned. He paused to catch his breath. The lowest branch was
still far above. His legs trembled, and heat washed beneath his pelt. Closing his eyes, he pushed himself higher. The bark scraped his cheek.
Don't let me fall!

Suddenly, a rotten patch of bark crumbled beneath his forepaw. His claws lost their grip and he slipped. With a thump, his belly knocked against the trunk. Winded, he hung by three paws, fear spiraling in his mind. He pictured the earth far below and swung his free paw hard against the bark, sinking his claws in as deep as he could. Struggling to find his breath, he hauled himself up again, pushing with his hind paws and praying that no more bark would crumble.

Caw!
Triumph sounded in the crow's cry.

Clear Sky gritted his teeth and pushed on. Looking up, he saw a branch within reach. Growling with effort, he dug his hind claws in deep and lunged upward. He swung his forepaws toward the branch and grasped it. Pausing for breath, he hung between branch and trunk. Then, with a final grunt, he dragged himself up.

“Clear Sky?” Dew Nose's frightened mew sounded overhead.

He looked up. The kits were only a few branches above him. But the crow was just a tail-length from them, its beady black eyes glinting with excitement.

The next branch was within reach. He reared and flung his paws around it and hauled himself up. It was easy to scrabble onto the branch beyond. Another leap took him to the kits' branch. It trembled beneath his paws as he landed.

The crow snapped its head around, fear flashing in its gaze.

Clear Sky hissed. “Fly away unless you want to be my next meal.”

The crow glanced back at the kits. With an angry shout, it unfolded its wings and soared from the branch. Clear Sky watched it swoop away between the trunks, its dark feathers black against the white forest floor.

“Clear Sky!” Dew Nose's mew was limp with relief. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

Pity flooded beneath Clear Sky's pelt. He thought for a heartbeat of the kits Star Flower was carrying. What if this had been them? He pushed the thought away. It was too much to bear. A fierce, protective fire surged through every muscle as he stared at the helpless kits.
I've never felt like this before.

Guilt flooded him as he thought of Thunder.
I should have cared about
him
like this.

“Clear Sky?” Storm Pelt stared over his sister's shoulder. Eagle Feather clung to the bark behind her. They were close to the tip of the branch.

It was wide beneath Clear Sky's paws, but it narrowed to hardly more than a twig by the time it reached the kits, who were clustered like fledglings. It would never take his weight. If he tried to move toward them, it might break and send them all crashing to the ground. “You must walk toward me,” he told them gently.

“My legs won't move!” Dew Nose stared at him, her eyes desperate with terror. She clung, belly down, like a mouse.

“I'll come first.” Storm Pelt straightened behind her.

“Don't move!” Dew Nose shrieked. “You'll knock me off!”

Clear Sky pushed back the fear pressing in his throat. “Just dig your claws in hard, Dew Nose. The bark is soft, and if you hold on hard enough, nothing can knock you off.”

She stared at him hopefully.

“Are you digging them in?” Clear Sky asked gently.

She nodded slowly.

“Good.” Clear Sky looked at Storm Pelt. “Can you climb over your sister without falling?”

“I think so.”

“That's not good enough,” Clear Sky told him firmly. “You have to
know
you can do it.” If he could just get one kit to him, it might give the other two enough courage to follow.

Storm Pelt met his gaze steadily. “I
know
I can do it.”

“Good kit.” Clear Sky's mouth dried as Storm Pelt began to clamber over his sister.

Dew Nose whined.

“Just hold on, Dew Nose,” Clear Sky soothed. “You'll be fine.” He kept his gaze fixed on Storm Pelt, who was wobbling as he padded over his sister's back. He paused on her shoulders, and Clear Sky's heart seemed to burst in his chest. He forced his mew to be calm. “Just jump onto the branch when you're ready.”