The Blazing Star (19 page)

River Ripple bounded up, peering down at Gray Wing from the top of the bank. “Let's get out of here,” he urged. “We don't
need
all this prey. We have more than enough on the island.”

Gray Wing rose to his paws, listening to the faint wheezing of his own breath. Ignoring River Ripple, he padded back to where he had left the two dead voles, and checked them all over for signs of illness, giving them a good sniff and parting their fur with careful claws. Satisfied that they were healthy, he picked them up by their tails and scrambled up the bank to drop them at River Ripple's paws.

“I just wanted to contribute,” he meowed, his eyes burning with hurt. “To feel useful.”

River Ripple's shoulders sagged. “You don't need to prove yourself to me,” he murmured. “I've seen everything you've done, the way you've led your cats. But any cat can see that you have been hurting, and I was happy to give you a place to
retreat to.” Gently he pushed the dead voles back toward Gray Wing. “Maybe you know some other cats who could use some food? Some kits, maybe?”

Gray Wing stared at the silver tom. “How did you know?” he gasped, astonished by his friend's wisdom. “It's true; I haven't been able to stop thinking about Pebble Heart and Owl Eyes . . . and poor Sparrow Fur.”

I don't even know if her injuries are better,
he thought guiltily.
And how is Pebble Heart coping with being a healer? And Owl Eyes
. . . I
hope he isn't being overlooked because his brother has grown up so quickly. Does he get the chance to play and enjoy being a kit?

“I think it's time for me to go home,” he told River Ripple.

The silver-furred tom dipped his head in understanding. “I wondered how long it would take for you to realize that,” he mewed. “But should you ever need refuge, you know where we are.”

Gray Wing felt a pang at the thought of leaving this cat who had become such a good friend. “Would you like to come back to the hollow with me?” he asked. “Maybe you and Night and Dew could—”

He broke off as River Ripple shook his head.

“That's not what we agreed at the four trees, remember? We need to separate and isolate this sickness. Besides, the island is my home. I could not live anywhere else.”

Gray Wing sighed regretfully. “I know. But I'll miss you, River Ripple. Thank you for all your help. I'll never forget what you have done for me.”

He touched noses with the silver tom, then turned and
headed toward the hollow, picking up the pace as he felt the tough moorland grass under his paws once again. Excitement fluttered in his belly. He would miss River Ripple, but he had missed the kits, too, more than he had realized until now.
Will they be glad to see me again? I hope so. . . .

On his way to the camp, Gray Wing was crossing the center of the moorland when he heard a faint mewing coming from a scattering of rocks just ahead. To reach them he had to cross a dip in the ground, a sandy hollow that felt itchy against his pads. Halfway across he spotted a cat perched on a flat-topped rock, watching him.

“Wind Runner!” he exclaimed, dropping his prey in his surprise. “What are you doing out here on your own? Are you okay?”

Wind Runner leaped down from the rock and ran across the hollow to touch noses with him. “I'm not on my own,” she replied. “Come and say hello to Gorse Fur and the kits.”

Retrieving his voles, Gray Wing followed Wind Runner along a winding path through the rocks until they reached a bank where a rabbit burrow had been dug out to make a den like the ones in the moorland camp. Gorse Fur was sitting at the entrance, Moth Flight and Dust Muzzle tussling together on the grass in front of him.

They sprang apart when they saw Gray Wing, and Gorse Fur rose to his paws and came out to meet him. “It's good to see you again,” he purred.

Gray Wing couldn't help noticing how scrawny the two kits looked. “Would you like one of these voles?” he asked,
setting one down between them.

“Thank you!” the two kits squeaked in chorus, falling on the prey with hungry bites.

Wind Runner cast a grateful glance at Gray Wing, who motioned to her to follow him aside for a few paw steps.

“I was sorry to hear that Morning Whisker had died, when we met at the four trees,” he meowed. “I know what it's like to grieve. How are you coping?”

Wind Runner's whole body trembled, but she managed to control her emotion. “Look around you,” she responded. “I'm sheltered and dry here. I have my own space, and there's room for my kits to grow and flourish.”

Gray Wing bit back a comment that her kits seemed to be doing anything but flourishing. “Life as a rogue is hard,” he murmured gently.

“We're not rogues anymore!” Wind Runner snapped at him with some of her old tartness. “Yes, life is hard, but I'm setting up my own group here.”

“Really?” Gray Wing asked, surprised.

Wind Runner shrugged. “Okay, maybe now I'm making a home for my family. But I'm doing something that's more than wandering around like a rogue cat, without a real home or friends. I've learned a lot from living with the others, and now I want to put that to use here. The hollow and the forest aren't the only places a group of cats could live.”

Gray Wing knew that she was right. River Ripple's home on the island was proof of that.

“Then look after yourself and your family,” he mewed. “I'd
better be getting back. Would you like the other vole?”

Wind Runner shook her head. “We'll be fine, but thanks.”

Gray Wing was relieved that she had refused.
I want something to take back to Turtle Tail's kits. They're almost grown now, but they'll still enjoy a treat.

As he turned to leave, he paused, spotting another cat watching him from the shadow of one of the rocks: a she-cat with a thick, dark gray pelt and wide, amber eyes.

“Slate,” Wind Runner called, beckoning with her tail. “Come and meet Gray Wing. He's one of the cats from that big group I told you about.”

Slate padded forward and dipped her head to Gray Wing, giving him an interested stare. “It's good to meet you,” she mewed. “I see we both have colors in our names.”

As she spoke her eyes were alight with mischief, and for the first time in moons Gray Wing felt an amused purr bubbling up in his throat. “Great to meet you, too,” he responded politely.

“Are you coming to live with us here?” Slate asked.

Gray Wing shook his head. “I have my own home to go to in the hollow,” he explained.
Home for now,
he realized. An idea was forming in his mind that he hardly dared put into words; seeing Wind Runner had made that plan seem a little more real.

“I see,” Slate murmured. “Can I come with you for part of the way?”

Surprised and pleased, Gray Wing agreed. Saying good-bye to Wind Runner and Gorse Fur, they padded along side by side.

“How is Wind Runner managing?” Gray Wing asked, feeling awkward as he mumbled his question around the vole in his jaws.

Slate dipped her head thoughtfully. “She's surviving, but it's hard. I know what it's like to lose someone I loved. My brother died saving me from a fox attack—look.”

She slid to the ground and rolled over so that Gray Wing could see a healed scar on the tender part of her belly. His heart softened in sympathy.
There's something very special about a cat who can show her vulnerable side like this to some cat she's only just met.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured. “Your brother must have been a great cat.”

Slate walked with Gray Wing in comfortable silence until the hollow came in sight. Then she halted. “I'll leave you here,” she meowed. “Good luck.”

“Luck?” Gray Wing was puzzled. “What for?”

The gray she-cat's amber eyes were glinting again: with merriment or wisdom, Gray Wing couldn't tell. “For the challenges ahead,” she replied. “I can feel them resting heavy on your shoulders.”

She brushed her tail along his side and turned to go.

“Good luck to you, too,” Gray Wing called after her, unable to tear his gaze away as she strode confidently across the moor.
She knows more about me from a few moments' talk than some cats I've lived with for seasons. Where in the world did Wind Runner find her?

As Gray Wing approached the camp, he spotted Tall Shadow standing at the edge of the hollow. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon, toward where the Thunderpath stretched.
Her tail curled up in welcome when she noticed Gray Wing.

“You're back,” she meowed in tones of deep satisfaction as she touched noses with him. “Are you glad to be home again?”

“I think so,” Gray Wing responded, looking around for the kits and spotting Pebble Heart at the entrance to their den.

“You
think
so?” Tall Shadow called after him as he headed toward the den.

Gray Wing glanced over his shoulder. “It's good for now,” he called back.

But for how long
. . . ?

C
HAPTER
17

Thunder crouched behind a tussock of
grass and narrowed his eyes as he stared at the rabbits feeding outside their burrows. The sun was slipping down in the sky, and a chilly breeze whispered across the moor. On either side of Thunder, Owl Eyes and Lightning Tail waited, looking stiff and tense. Owl Eyes's tail-tip flicked impatiently to and fro.

“Don't you dare move before I tell you to,” Thunder warned him. “This is what we're going to do. You see the rabbit over there by that rock?” He angled his ears toward the rabbit that was farthest away from the burrows. It was nibbling the grass, unaware that the cats were watching it.

Lightning Tail nodded. “I see it.”

“Right. Lightning Tail, I want you to run out between the rabbit and the burrows. Make it run the other way. Owl Eyes, you stay here and leap out at it if it doubles back this way.” Thunder swiped his tongue around his jaws. “And I'll kill it. It looks nice and plump.”

“I'm ready, Thunder,” Owl Eyes mewed, his whiskers quivering with excitement.

“Okay. Lightning Tail, go!”

Pushing off with powerful back legs, Lightning Tail launched himself out of cover. The rabbits closer to the burrows jumped up in alarm and fled, their white tails bobbing as they vanished into safety. The cats' chosen prey tried to follow, but Lightning Tail intercepted it, his teeth bared. For a moment the rabbit seemed not to know which way to run, then dashed off in a panic. As Thunder bore down on it, the prey dodged his pouncing paws and headed straight for Owl Eyes. The kit leaped out of hiding, his tail lashing and his claws tearing at the grass. Letting out a terrified squeal, the rabbit crouched trembling in the grass, not even trying to flee any longer. Thunder brought down one huge paw on its neck—a killing strike.

“Great catch!” Owl Eyes exclaimed, coming up to look at the limp body.

“You both helped,” Thunder meowed, with a nod to Lightning Tail as he came padding up. “Owl Eyes, you looked really scary!”

But Thunder's satisfaction with the hunt ebbed away rapidly as he took a closer look at what they had caught. The prey was not succulent and plump—it was actually just bloated and swollen from the sickness. There was froth around its jaws, and a faint, rank smell rising from the body.

“Owl Eyes, keep back,” Thunder ordered sharply. “Lightning Tail, we'd better find some leaves to wrap it. If we leave it here some other cat might take it.”
No wonder it was easy to cut it out from the rest,
he added silently to himself.

When he and Lightning Tail had found enough leaves to
wrap the rabbit, and shoved it deep into a cleft in a nearby rock, Thunder led the way back to camp.

“It's getting harder and harder to catch enough prey,” Owl Eyes complained. “It's like everything is sick.”

“I know,” Lightning Tail agreed. “We decided separating might help, but we couldn't tell that to the prey. The illness is spreading farther and farther.”