A Forest Divided (10 page)

Pebble Heart narrowed his eyes, but Mud Paws was already heading for the entrance.

“We'll be fine,” he called over his shoulder.

“Don't worry so much, Gray Wing,” said Pebble Heart with a flick of his tail. “It's not good for your breathing. We know how to look after ourselves.”

Gray Wing watched Pebble Heart trotting after Mud Paws and tried to ignore the anxiety worming in his belly. He nodded to Holly. “Let's see if we can start weaving a shelter for your new nest.” He headed toward the far end of camp, Holly at his side.

As he passed Tall Shadow and Jagged Peak, they looked up from their conversation.

“What are you doing?” Jagged Peak eyed Holly.

“Gray Wing's helping me build a den for the kits.”

Jagged Peak's fur rippled along his spine as he padded forward. “They're
my
kits,” he meowed sharply. “
I'll
build their den.”

Holly moved aside as he pushed between her and Gray Wing. “Gray Wing says this end of the camp will be warmest,” she told him.

Jagged Peak didn't answer, but began sniffing around the bramble wall.

Gray Wing backed away. If Jagged Peak wanted to take charge, why argue? Dew Nose, Storm Pelt, and Eagle Feather
were
his kits.

“Let me know if you need some help,” said Gray Wing, giving Holly a polite nod. Turning, he noticed Tall Shadow gazing at him. She looked uneasy. Before he could ask if anything was wrong, the camp entrance rustled loudly. A familiar scent touched Gray Wing's nose.

“Slate!”

The amber-eyed moor cat was padding into camp. She dipped her head low to Tall Shadow. “I hope you don't mind my visiting.”

Tall Shadow padded from the edge of the clearing. “We're always pleased to see you.”

Gray Wing hurried toward Slate. “How are Wind Runner and the kits?”

“They get bigger every day!” Slate purred. “They're desperate to explore outside the camp, but Wind Runner won't let them.” She lowered her voice. “I think Gorse Fur thinks a little fresh air will use up some of their energy, but Wind Runner just sticks out her tail and frowns. There's no arguing with her.”

Gray Wing's whiskers twitched with amusement. Wind Runner had always been certain she knew best. It made her a fierce mother, but a strong one. The kits were lucky to have her.

“Why don't you come and visit?”

“The moor?” Slate's question took Gray Wing by surprise. He imagined the fresh wind rippling through his fur and pictured the wide-open expanse of heather and peat. His heart ached to be back there, but he shook his head. “I can't leave my campmates. Not while we're still settling in.”

“Not even for a short while?” Slate gazed at him softly. “You haven't met Reed and Minnow yet. You'd like them.” Reed and Minnow were rogues who had joined Wind Runner's group at the end of leaf-fall.

Longing tugged in Gray Wing's chest.

Tall Shadow flicked her tail. “Why don't you go, Gray Wing? We can manage without you.”

Gray Wing shook his head. Perhaps if he hadn't overheard Slash and Fern, he'd go with Slate, just for a day. But he couldn't leave his friends when he knew that danger was stalking among the shadowy pines.

Mewling sounded outside the camp. Smalls paws pattered over the forest floor.

“Let
me
help carry it!” Dew Nose's mew sounded indignant.

The brambles rustled and Storm Pelt charged into camp. His eyes shone as the lizard dangled from his jaws. Eagle Feather and Dew Nose burst in after him.

“I would have found it first,” Dew Nose squeaked. “But Eagle Feather kept getting in the way.”

Mouse Ear padded after them. He nodded to Gray Wing. “Storm Pelt just followed your scent trail and went straight to it, while these two were running around in circles.”

“We were not!” Eagle Feather puffed out his chest.

Mouse Ear purred. “Go and put it on the prey pile, Storm Pelt.” He nodded toward the empty patch at the edge of the clearing. “Though it's not much of a pile right now.”

Gray Wing flicked his tail. “We should send out a hunting party.”

Mouse Ear met his gaze. “Do you want me to go?”

“Take Holly and Jagged Peak with you,” Gray Wing told him.

“I can go too,” Slate offered.

Tall Shadow stepped in front of the moor cat, her tail twitching with annoyance. “Jagged Peak and Holly are busy right now. And Slate has her own group to hunt for.” Her angry gaze scorched Gray Wing's pelt.

He tipped his head, puzzled. “But the prey pile's empty. Jagged Peak and Holly can work on their den later. And Slate has hunted here for seasons. She can show them the best places to find prey.”

Jagged Peak's gray fur flashed at the corner of his vision.

“What's going on?” The tom padded confidently toward them.

“Gray Wing's organizing hunting parties,” Tall Shadow growled, straightening up. “I don't think it's your place to make such decisions.”

Gray Wing bristled. “Mouse Ear offered,” he pointed out. “I just didn't think it was safe for him to hunt alone.”

Jagged Peak lifted his chin. “Tall Shadow's right,” he
meowed. “You gave up leadership. You can't try to take it back now.”

Shock flashed through Gray Wing's pelt. “I wasn't—”

Tall Shadow huffed. “You've been giving orders ever since you returned to camp!”

Gray Wing blinked at her. “I'm only trying to help.”

“I'm leader here!” Tall Shadow snapped. “I brought us to this place.”

“But . . .” Words dried on Gray Wing's tongue. He knew how much coming here had meant to Tall Shadow. He'd supported her decision and come to help her build a safe home. He'd spent every day watching out for Fern and Slash. He just wanted to keep his campmates safe.

“I'm sorry, Gray Wing.” Tall Shadow's mew softened. “But you've looked after the cats long enough. You're not as strong as you used to be.”

She thinks I'm weak!
Gray Wing lashed his tail as she went on.

“It's time you let stronger cats take charge. You're not our leader anymore.”

“I'm just as strong as any cat!” Gray Wing hissed. “How dare you say—” He stopped. A familiar scent was drifting through the brambles. His pelt bushed.

Fern!

He pricked his ears and heard pine needles swish beyond the camp wall.

That rogue is spying on us.

He raced for the camp entrance.

“Gray Wing?” Slate called after him.

“Don't go!” Tall Shadow's mew was sharp with worry. “I was only thinking of your health.”

Gray Wing flattened his ears as he scraped through the bramble tunnel, opening his mouth to taste the air. It was definitely Fern. He scanned the shadowy forest floor. A dark shape darted past a pine tree and ducked into a clump of bracken. The mouse-hearted rogue was running away.

Gray Wing raced after her, hackles raised. Tall Shadow had no idea about the dangers lurking in their new home.
I'll show her that I'm not too weak to protect my campmates!

Which way had Fern gone, Gray
Wing wondered. The rogue's scent was still fresh, but he'd lost sight of her. He strained to see between the shadowy pines, stiffening as he spotted movement ahead.

Moving quietly over the pine needles, he followed. The black she-cat was weaving between the trees. It would be easy to catch up. Then he could drag her back to camp and show Tall Shadow that he wasn't too weak to look after his campmates.

Gray Wing frowned. Why wasn't Fern running? Hadn't she realized she was being followed? Curiosity itched beneath his fur. What was the rogue up to?

Dropping low, he kept to the shadows, treading as lightly as prey.

Weak sunlight seeped into the forest ahead. Gray Wing felt the faint rumble of a monster shake the ground. They were approaching the Thunderpath where it sliced through the trees, separating the pine forest and Clear Sky's woods. Fern's pelt showed against green as she slid out onto the side of the Thunderpath. Gray Wing paused and peered between the trees.

Fern crouched at the side of the Thunderpath, scanning the dark trail. A monster growled, its wide white flank flickering beyond the trees as it neared. Gray Wing curled his claws into the earth, his heart quickening as Fern darted onto the Thunderpath. The monster's eyes glinted in the sunlight. It was nearly on top of her.

Watch out!
Gray Wing held his breath as Fern pelted across the dark stone. She leaped for the far side a moment before the monster thundered past.

Gray Wing raced forward and peered from the trees just in time to see Fern's tail whip past an oak into shadow. A howl pierced his ear fur. The ground shook beneath his paws. Gray Wing froze as another monster roared a tail-length from his nose. Wind whistled in its wake. Grit spattered his flank. His chest tightened as its bitter stench swirled around him.

As the monster thundered away, Gray Wing raced across the Thunderpath. Blood pounded in his ears as he leaped for the edge and plunged through a clump of bracken. Stopping, he caught his breath. Would he ever get used to the Thunderpath?

The stench of the monster fading behind him, he forced his hackles down and scanned the forest. The musty scent of fallen leaves filled his nose. Which way had Fern gone? He scouted between the roots of an oak.
There!
Her paws had passed this way. Nose low, he followed her trail.

The rogue cat had veered toward the edge of the wood, clearly making sure to avoid Clear Sky's camp. Was she heading for the moor to meet Slash?

Roots arched from the ground. Brambles spilled from between trunks. Gray Wing picked his way past them, dodging to avoid prickly stems. Fern was following a zigzagging trail, but she was staying inside the tree line. Gray Wing paused. Why hadn't she broken cover and headed onto the moor? He could see its grassy slopes beyond the trees. Wasn't that where she'd last spoken to Slash?

He frowned. Her path was heading toward the four trees. Was Slash meeting her there?

Gray Wing pushed on, ears pricked. He stumbled over a root, grimacing as pain shot through his paw. Thorns snagged his pelt as he staggered against a bramble. He decided to cross the moor to the four trees—it might be farther, but it would be easier that way.

He swerved and headed for the slope beyond the trees, ducking out of the woods and pushing through bracken. As his paws touched smooth grass, wind billowed through his fur. It filled his chest, clean and cold, its rich peaty scent so familiar he felt dizzy with joy. He bounded up the slope and skirted the heather toward the four trees. He moved quickly here. The ground blurred beneath his paws; air filled his chest. His heartbeat quickened and his whiskers streamed against his cheeks. As the slope steepened toward the top of the hollow, Gray Wing slowed. In the woods below, Fern would be picking her way through the undergrowth. He crossed the final stretch of grass to the rim of the hollow and gazed back across the moor. There was the dip—no more than a cloud shadow—where the hollow lay.

Was it still deserted? Were other creatures sheltering there now?

He narrowed his eyes, wondering if he could see Wind Runner's small camp. But the heather clearing where she'd made her home was hidden between the dips and rises of the moor. She had chosen well.

Gray Wing dragged his attention back to the hollow.

The bare branches of the four oaks showed dark above the rim. Beyond them the sun sank toward the distant horizon, burning orange in a pale blue sky. Gray Wing could feel dew gathering on his fur. He shook it out and shivered.

Below, the great boulder rose at one end of the hollow. Was Fern there already?

He padded forward and nosed his way down the bracken-covered slope. Slowing as he neared the bottom, he narrowed his eyes and scanned the clearing.

He stiffened as he spotted Fern's black pelt. She was crossing the clearing, her belly close to the earth, her stumpy tail twitching excitedly. She was stalking something.

Gray Wing tasted the air. There was no sign of Slash's scent. And Fern's attention was focused on her quarry.

Had she just come here to hunt?

His pelt prickled with hope. This was his chance to talk to her and find out why Slash had sent her to spy on his campmates. Ducking low, he slid through the last few stalks of bracken and padded softly into the clearing.

Fern was watching the grass at the far edge. She lowered
her chin and waggled her hindquarters, so intent on her prey that she didn't twitch an ear as Gray Wing crept across the clearing toward her.

“Fern?”

The black rogue spun with a hiss. Fear flashed in her eyes and she reared, unsheathing her claws.

“I'm not here to fight.” Gray Wing stopped a tail-length away. He could smell her fear-scent.

“What do you want?” Fern eyed him warily.

“Don't you recognize me?” Gray Wing circled her, giving her a wide berth. Fern dropped onto all fours and turned, keeping her gaze fixed on him. “Why should I?”

“You've been spying on us for the past half-moon,” Gray Wing told her.

Fern's eyes widened with horror. “You're one of the cats from the forest!”

Gray Wing rolled his eyes. She wasn't much of a spy. “Haven't you even learned our scent yet?”

The fur lifted along Fern's spine. “All I can smell in that place is sap and stagnant water.”

Up close, her pelt looked dull, so thin that ribs showed beneath.
She's half-starved.
“It must be hard to find prey in such a stench,” he commented.

She backed away. “I'm just not used to hunting alone. And prey is scarce since the sickness.”

“Did Slash usually hunt for you?” Gray Wing watched her gaze, seeing fear flash sharper as he mentioned Slash's name.

“He helped,” she said defensively. “So what?”

“But now he's left you alone,” Gray Wing pressed. “You look pretty hungry.”

Her eyes glittered. “I wouldn't if you hadn't interrupted me. I was about to make a kill!” She glanced ruefully at the grass. “My mouse has probably gone by now.”

Gray Wing flicked his gaze along her skinny flanks. “You look like you need more than a mouse.”

Fern lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself!”

“I can help you hunt,” Gray Wing offered. “Like Slash used to.”

Fern narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you're starving.”

Fern stared at him.

“Slash is a bully,” Gray Wing went on. “He's no better than One Eye.”

“How do
you
know Slash?” Fern asked suspiciously.

“I saw him talking to you, on the moor.”

Fern seemed to shrink beneath her pelt.

“You shouldn't let him push you around,” Gray Wing told her.

“What else am I supposed to do?” she wailed. “If I don't do as he says, he'll kill me.”

Gray Wing padded slowly closer. “It doesn't seem fair. He's left you to starve.” He jerked his muzzle toward the empty clearing. “I don't see him looking out for you. What if I was a dangerous cat? You look too weak to fight. And you're lucky
you made it through Clear Sky's territory unnoticed—my brother doesn't think much of spies.”

“I didn't have any choice!” she snapped. Her gaze darkened suddenly. “You won't tell Slash you've seen me, will you?”

“Why would
I
talk to Slash?” Gray Wing asked, leaning closer.

Fern backed away, trembling.

“I'm not going to hurt you!” Did this cat believe all toms were as bad as Slash and One Eye?

“Then leave me alone!” Hissing, she batted a weak paw toward him.

Gray Wing easily ducked out of the way. “You need food. You're as weak as a newborn kit. Wait here while I hunt.” He hurried across the clearing and dived into the long grass at the far side. Opening his mouth, he tasted for prey, his tail-tip flicking excitedly as he caught a musky scent. Sniffing his way along its trail, he saw the bracken twitch in front of him.

He dropped into a crouch. A small, brown shape moved between the stems. It was rooting among the fallen leaves.
Mouse!
Bunching up his hind legs, he leaped and slammed his paws onto the startled creature. It fell limp beneath him, giving up without a struggle. Quickly, he nipped its spine and carried it back to Fern, who was crouching in the clearing where he had left her. She hadn't tried to escape.

She really must be as frail as she looks.

He dropped the mouse at her paws. “Eat this.”

As Fern gobbled it down, the scent of mouse blood touched
Gray Wing's nose. His belly rumbled. He hadn't eaten today.

As the last morsel disappeared, Fern licked her lips and sat up. “What's your name?”

Gray Wing stared at her. “It's Gray Wing.”

“Thank you, Gray Wing,” she said. She looked down for a moment, then back up at him.

Gray Wing shrugged. “I need you to do something for me in return.”

Her eyes flashed with fear. “What?”

“Try to persuade Slash he's wasting his time with us,” he told her.

“How?” she frowned.

“I don't know.” Frustration itched beneath his pelt. “Tell him that we've made a strong camp. That we're dangerous. That he'd never win a fight with us.” Gray Wing gazed at her. “Just convince him.”

Fern tipped her head. “Slash would never believe there are cats he couldn't beat,” she muttered bitterly. Her eyes suddenly lit up. “But I might be able to distract him.”

Gray Wing leaned closer. “Distract him?”

“I could tell him you've been hunting beyond the pines. Once he hears you've found a fresh, new source of prey, he'll want to see it for himself—he's always been greedy.”

“How will that help?” Gray Wing narrowed his eyes.

“It'll give you time to prepare,” Fern told him. “He's going to make his attack soon. You need to make your camp as strong as you can, and practice fighting. When Slash comes, he won't come alone.”

Gray Wing shivered, dread hollowing his belly. Slash sounded just like One Eye. “What about you?” This scrawny rogue could hardly hunt for herself.

“I'll be okay,” she promised.

“You should stay here for a day or two,” Gray Wing suggested. “You don't need to spy on us anymore, and there's prey here. Catch as much as you can and grow strong.”

Fern nodded. “I will.”

Gray Wing searched her gaze. Could he trust this she-cat to keep her word? Did she have the courage to lie to Slash and send him searching beyond the pines for prey that didn't exist?

She stared back at him, hope glistening in her gaze.

He realized he had no choice but to trust her. “Good luck.”

Turning, he padded to the slope and headed toward the moor. He wanted one last look at it before he returned to the pines. He wove between the brambles and climbed over the top. The moor was bathed in evening sunshine. Above, the sky was streaked purple as the sun slid behind the trees. Gray Wing padded across the grass, which felt soft after the needle-strewn floor of the forest. A brisk, chilly wind lifted his fur and pricked at his flesh. Breathing deeply, he drew in the familiar fragrance of heather and stone.