Path of Stars (16 page)

Violet hurried toward him. “Dog bites can turn nasty.” She sat down, lifted his forepaw between hers, and began to gently clean his wounds with long laps of her tongue.

Thunder snatched his paw away, his pelt burning.

Violet stared at him in surprise. “I'm sorry.” Her ears twitched anxiously. “I was just trying to help.”

Thunder's tongue seemed to twist into knots. “I can do it,” he mumbled.

Violet shrugged. “If you like.” She turned to Lightning Tail. “Are you hurt?”

Lightning Tail shook his head. “Not a scratch,” he told her. “But I've always been lucky.”

Pine and Drizzle huddled close to Dawn as the queen washed a wound behind Bee's ear. Pine was staring toward the camp entrance. Drizzle crouched so close to her mother, she was almost hidden beneath the queen's orange-and-white fur.

Rain was beginning to fall from the gray, heavy sky.

Thunder's heart twisted as he saw fear in the kits' eyes. What if Slash
did
come back? And what about the dogs? Now that they knew there was a rogue camp here, they might return. What if they were part of a bigger pack? He glanced around at the wounded, undernourished cats. They were in no state to defend themselves from another attack.

“You can't stay here,” he murmured.

Violet jerked her muzzle toward him. “What?”

“This camp's not safe anymore,” Thunder met her gaze solemnly. “You need to find a new home.”

Violet blinked at him through the thickening rain. “And where exactly are we supposed to go?”

Rain battered Gray Wing's face as
he hurried after Lightning Tail. The black tom had raced into the moor camp, breathless and soaked to the skin. Gray Wing had tried to persuade him to shelter until he'd dried off, but Lightning Tail had shaken out his pelt and begged to see Wind Runner.

“She's hunting with Gorse Fur,” Gray Wing had told him.

“Then
you
must come,” Lightning Tail had puffed. “The rogues need our help.”

“The
rogues
?” Gray Wing had stared at him in disbelief.

His thoughts still whirled as he chased Lightning Tail into the pines. The black tom was already racing down the slope toward the Thunderpath. Gray Wing's chest tightened, and he slowed, nodding reassuringly to Lightning Tail as the tom looked back anxiously.
I must pace myself. I can't collapse now. Thunder needs me.

How could the rogues need help? Only a few days ago they'd attacked his patrol. Lightning Tail had babbled something about dogs and Slash and the camp being unsafe. Had Slash abandoned his campmates and left the marsh?

Hope sparked beneath Gray Wing's pelt. If Slash was gone,
perhaps life on the moor could return to normal. No extra guards. Fewer hunting patrols. They could sleep soundly in their nests once more.

Lightning Tail stopped beside the Thunderpath and waited. As Gray Wing skidded to a halt on the wet grass beside him, a monster pounded toward them. When it shot past, Lightning Tail stepped in front of him, blocking the spray from its spinning paws. Gray Wing felt a prickle of irritation.
You don't need to protect me.
He padded around the tom and broke into a run, racing over the slick stone path. He kept running until he reached the shelter of the pines on the other side.

Gray Wing was relieved to be out of the rain. Only a few drops penetrated the thick needle canopy. Lightning Tail caught up to him and shook out his fur.

Gray Wing smoothed the rain from his whiskers, stiffening suddenly as a thought struck him. “Is Fern okay?”

“She's wounded. But not badly.” Lightning Tail set off through the pines. “Pebble Heart's there. He'll take care of her.”

Gray Wing leaped a ditch as they reached it. “Were many cats hurt?”

“Most of them,” Lightning Tail told him. “Two are dead.”

Dead!
It must have been a horrific attack. “Where did Slash go?”

Lightning Tail shrugged. “I don't know.”

“Why did he leave? Did the dogs drive him out?”

“No,” Lightning Tail told him. “He abandoned his campmates after the attack.”

Gray Wing's pelt prickled with shock. “
Abandoned
them?”

“They were glad to see him go.”

At last!
Satisfaction warmed Gray Wing's belly. Fern would be free now. “Is Slash alone?”

Lightning Tail shook his head. “Beetle, Splinter, Snake, and Swallow went with him.”

Gray Wing's heart sank. Slash wasn't as isolated as he'd hoped. What if he returned to terrorize his campmates once more? “We need to get the others away from the marsh as soon as we can.” But where could they take them?

The rain was easing by the time they reached the marsh camp. The dark, soggy afternoon was sliding quickly into evening. As Lightning Tail led Gray Wing through the entrance, Gray Wing stared at the gloomy clearing. His paws pricked with shock. Holes in the camp wall showed where the dogs had crashed through. The rain-soaked earth smelled of blood. Cats huddled in the shelter of the marsh grass at the edges. They gazed warily at Gray Wing as he entered.

He dipped his head. “My name is Gray Wing,” he told them. “I've come to help.”

Fern padded from a drooping clump of reeds. “Gray Wing.” Her eyes were hollow with exhaustion. “Did Lightning Tail tell you? Slash is gone.”

“I know.” Gray Wing touched his nose to the young she-cat's head, relieved to find her well. “How are you?”

She drew away. “My sister is dead.” She blinked at a mottled she-cat lying at the edge of the clearing.

“That was your sister?”

“She's why I had to come back.”

Lightning Tail scanned the clearing. “Where's Thunder?”

“He's digging a grave with Juniper and Raven.” Fern nodded toward a gap in the camp wall. “Out there.”

A pretty gray she-cat crossed the clearing to meet them. Black fur edged her ears and paws, and her amber eyes were warm. “Are you Gray Wing?”

Gray Wing dipped his head in greeting. “Yes.”

“Thank you for coming.” She stopped in front of him. “I'm Violet. Thunder said you might be able to find us somewhere to stay.” She glanced around at the battered camp. “I don't think we're safe here anymore.”

Gray Wing's ears twitched uneasily. An orange tom was huddled beside a tortoiseshell she-cat. He recognized them from the attack on the moor. Only a few days ago, he and his campmates had fought these very cats. Violet was still staring at him expectantly. He fumbled for words. “I'll do what I can,” he murmured. Turning his head, he gazed through the gap in the camp wall. “I must speak with Thunder first.”

“Of course.” Violet padded toward a tabby she-cat and crouched beside her. The tabby was trembling, her eyes glittering with grief as Violet leaned close and lapped her cheek softly.

Gray Wing was heading toward the grave when he recognized a gray pelt beneath a dropping clump of marsh grass. “Pebble Heart!”

The young tom was tending to another cat. He turned as he heard his name. A wad of cobweb hung from his jaws. He
blinked a welcome at Gray Wing, then turned back to the wounded tom.

“He's treating injuries,” Fern explained. “He's been busy since he arrived—cleaning cuts and bites and gathering cobweb to stop the bleeding.”

“They are in safe paws.” Gray Wing gave a purr. He wasn't surprised that Pebble Heart had helped the rogues eagerly and unquestioningly. He headed for the gap in the wall and hopped out of the camp. “Stay with the others,” he called to Lightning Tail.

The black tom nodded. “I'll guard the entrance.”

He followed a trail of crushed grass and churned mud until he saw Thunder's orange pelt, bright against the darkening sky. In a gap between the tussocks, the tom was leaning over a hole, hauling earth out with his paws. Another tom worked beside him. As Gray Wing reached the grave, he saw the tortoiseshell she-cat walk up to the edge and drop to the bottom, sinking paw-deep into the mud. She then scooped a pawful of mud up and dumped it on the rim.

Thunder pawed it away. The black tom next to him scraped peat from the side of the hole.

Gray Wing glanced sadly toward the two bodies lying nearby. Their bony frames showed through their bedraggled fur. Rain streamed down whiskers that would never twitch again.

Thunder looked up as Gray Wing reached him. “Thanks for coming.” He straightened, wiping his muddy paws on his belly fur.

“Is Slash really gone?” Gray Wing asked.

“For now,” Thunder told him. “But we need to bury these cats and get the others away. Who knows if he might come back?”

The rogue beside him sat up. “Or the dogs might return.”

Thunder nodded toward the black tom. “This is Raven,” he told Gray Wing. He glanced at the she-cat standing in the grave. “That's Juniper.”

“Hi.” Raven dipped his head.

“Hello.” Juniper met Gray Wing's gaze, then blinked at Thunder. “Do you think this is deep enough?”

“It needs to be a bit deeper if it's to keep the bodies safe from foxes.” Thunder stood up. Mud caked his paws. “Will you two be okay finishing here while I talk to Gray Wing?”

“We'll be fine.” Juniper scooped out another pawful of wet dirt.

Thunder signaled to Gray Wing with a flick of his tail, then wove his way between the tussocks.

Gray Wing followed until they were clear of the others.

“What are we going to do with them?” Thunder whispered.

“They clearly can't stay here.” Gray Wing stared across the empty marsh. “The camp's not safe anymore.”

“We could take them to Tall Shadow's camp,” Thunder suggested. “It's not too far.”

Gray Wing frowned. “It might be too near. Now that the dogs have their scent, they might track these cats to Tall Shadow's camp if we take them there.”

“The river?” Thunder wondered.

“It's a long trek for injured cats.”

Thunder glanced toward the wrecked camp. “Frog's badly
injured. I'm not even sure he can walk. I don't know how we're going to get him over the Thunderpath.”

“We'll deal with that when we come to it.” Gray Wing shifted his paws. The moor would be the safest place for the rogues. The hollow had thick walls and was easy to defend. And every moor cat knew how to divert dogs away from the camp by leading them through swaths of heather and gorse and hiding in rabbit burrows until the dogs were exhausted and confused. But how would he convince Wind Runner to take the rogues in? Why would she welcome cats who had attacked her campmates and stolen their prey? Gray Wing frowned. He'd persuade her somehow. It would only be temporary: until the rogues recovered, or found new homes. “What about the moor?” he ventured.

“The hollow?” Thunder's eyes brightened. “They'd be safe there. I've seen how moor cats deal with dogs.”

Gray Wing nodded. “Let's take them there for now. Tomorrow we'll decide where they can go next.”

The grass rustled behind them. Gray Wing jerked his muzzle around to see Violet standing at their tails.

She blinked at him hopefully. “Can we join your group?”

Gray Wing froze. Wind Runner would never agree to that!

Violet must have sensed his hesitation. “We don't
all
have to join the same group. Perhaps a few could join yours, and some could live in the pines and some in the oak forest. There are cats by the river, too, aren't there? Maybe some could go there.” Her gaze drifted to Thunder. “And perhaps I could join
your
group?”

Gray Wing's ears twitched. Thunder's eyes widened as Violet blinked at him hopefully. They seemed lost in each other's eyes.

Then Thunder spoke. “I'd have to speak with my campmates.” His fur rippled self-consciously. “But I'd like you to join our group.”

A burst of happiness spread over Violet's features before she dipped her head shyly. “Thank you.”

“Thunder!” Juniper called from beyond the tussocks. “We're finished.”

“I'm coming!” Thunder called back. He blinked at Gray Wing. “Is it decided? We take them back to the moor tonight. Then tomorrow we can see which groups will take the others.”

“Yes.” Gray Wing nodded. It seemed the only way. But would Wind Runner give the rogues shelter for the night? He pushed the worry away. The most important thing now was to get the rogues away from here.

“I'll fetch the others.” Violet's mew cut into his thoughts. “They'll want to say good-bye to their campmates.” She hesitated before she padded away, her mew turning wistful. “Slash used to make us take bodies to the carrion place and leave them for the crows and rats.”

Gray Wing shuddered. Could rogues that had once treated their dead campmates as crow-food
ever
learn to live peacefully among moor and forest cats?

By the time the rogues had said good-bye to Beech and Stone and buried their bodies so that no fox could dig them
up, night had swallowed the marsh. The rain had eased, but clouds still covered the moon. Lightning Tail paced in the darkness, as though impatient to leave. Gray Wing gathered the rogues in the remains of the camp. “Are you well enough to walk as far as the moor?”

He glanced around the expectant faces.

Willow looked toward Frog, who was still lying at the edge of the clearing.

Pebble Heart was crouching beside the injured tom. “Frog will need to be carried.”

Who was strong enough? Gray Wing scanned the rogues. Moss was hardly injured, and Raven looked fit. Juniper must be tired after the digging, but she met his gaze eagerly. If Lightning Tail helped, they should be able to carry the wounded rogue between them. “Moss, Raven, Juniper, and Lightning Tail. Will you carry Frog?”