A Forest Divided

Chapter 19

Thunder blinked open his eyes, surprised to find himself waking in Tall Shadow’s camp. Early rays of sunshine sliced through the canopy. Hushed mews sounded around the clearing. I sent Lightning Tail home. The memory flooded back. Last night, he’d watched Gray Wing and Jagged Peak emerge, shaken and wide-eyed, from their mother’s den and had changed his mind about leaving. Clear Sky and Quiet Rain did not feel like his kin, but Gray Wing and Jagged Peak did. If Quiet Rain was to die, he could not let them mourn alone.

She can’t die. Not after such a long journey to see her sons. It wouldn’t be fair.

He had sent Lightning Tail back to their camp, worried about leaving Leaf and the others alone too long in a territory they hadn’t yet fully explored. Who knew what might be lurking between the trees there?

He heaved himself to his paws, stiff from sleeping beneath a frosty bramble, and shook out his fur.

The snow had stopped, but thick drifts banked one side of the camp, and the clearing glittered white.

He recognized Clear Sky’s fur half-hidden in a nest dug beneath the camp wall. Star Flower’s golden pelt glowed beside his father’s. The pair was still sleeping. A pang of jealousy pricked his belly, but he pushed it away. Star Flower had made her choice.

“Thunder!” Eagle Feather’s excited mew rang from Holly’s den. His small face peeked out.

“We’re going to make snow tunnels. Do you want to help?”

Dew Nose pushed past her brother and plunged into the snow. Then she bobbed up again and struggled toward him.

“I’m too big for snow tunnels!” Thunder called out.

Storm Pelt scrambled from the den and followed Eagle Feather as he chased his sister. “You could pretend to be a fox and try to dig us out!”

Thunder purred, then glanced guiltily toward Pebble Heart’s den. There was a sick cat in the camp—perhaps he should tell the kits to be quiet.

Eagle Feather reached him and shook snow from his whiskers. “I’ll start tunneling. You try to find me.” He dived into a deep drift and disappeared.

“Give us time to hide!” Dew Nose called, scooting deep into the snow after her brother.

“Wait for me!” Storm Pelt scrambled after them.

The camp entrance rattled, and snow showered from the brambles around it. Thunder turned to see Jagged Peak pad into camp, a wren in his jaws. He crossed the clearing and dropped it outside

Pebble Heart’s den, then headed for his own. Wasn’t he going to go inside and check on his mother?

Thunder was momentarily distracted by muffled purrs from beneath the snow. He thought he should pull the kits out before they froze. Stepping toward the sound, he pricked his ears. He could hear Dew Nose whispering.

“Stay still or he’ll guess where we are.”

His whiskers twitched with amusement. Plunging his muzzle into the snow, he grabbed the first scruff he felt and plucked Storm Pelt out.

The kit swung into the air, spraying snow.

Jagged Peak halted, his eyes widening as he saw Thunder. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

Thunder dropped Storm Pelt into a shallow patch. “The kits are tunneling.”

Jagged Peak bounded across the clearing. “They’ll freeze! Or drown! Or both!” He began digging through the snow with his paws.

“Ow!” Dew Nose squealed as he unearthed her.

Eagle Feather struggled to the surface, his head popping out. “What’s wrong?”

Jagged Peak stared at him sternly. “Whose idea was this?”

“Mine.” Eagle Feather stuck his nose in the air. “It’s fun!”

“It’s dangerous.” Jagged Peak swished his tail with annoyance. “Stay out of the deep snow and find something useful to do.”

“It’s not fair. We were only playing!” Eagle Feather struggled to the surface and padded away, his indignant swagger spoiled as every paw step plunged deeper into the snow.

Dew Nose bobbed after him. “Let’s think up another game.”

“We could practice hunting!” Storm Pelt followed.

Jagged Peak eyed Thunder sternly.

“I was watching them,” Thunder told him.

Jagged Peak frowned. “Sometimes you have to say no.”

Thunder felt a prickle of resentment. He’d been rescuing the kits! But he dropped his gaze and shrugged. “I guess.” Jagged Peak had a lot to worry about. It wasn’t surprising his temper was short these days.

The kits had crossed the clearing and stopped near Tall Shadow. The camp leader was gazing apologetically at Mouse Ear and Mud Paws. “Will you go hunting again today?” she asked them. “I know you hunted for everyone yesterday, but the others are”—her gaze flicked to Pebble Heart’s den—“distracted right now.”

“I just caught a wren,” Jagged Peak called across the clearing. “And Gray Wing’s out stalking.”

“But we have extra mouths to feed.” Tall Shadow nodded toward Holly’s den. “Don’t forget, Fern’s with us now.”

“I’ll hunt with them.” Sun Shadow’s mew made the camp leader turn. The young tom was stretching in the wide nest of pine branches. He looked brighter than when Thunder had found him yesterday, his pelt sleek from a wash and his eyes shining. He bounded into the clearing and padded toward her. “I’m starting to get the hang of forest hunting.”

“Good.” Mud Paws greeted him with a nod. “The more paws the better.”

“If there’s any prey out today, it should be easy to spot against the snow,” Mouse Ear meowed.

As Thunder wondered if he should offer to help, snow crunched outside the camp and Pebble Heart ducked through the entrance. A wad of browning stalks dangled limply from his jaws.

He stopped as he reached Tall Shadow and placed them carefully on the snow. “I wish we’d come to the forest in greenleaf,” he meowed ruefully. “I can see spots where herbs would have been thick only a few moons ago. But there are only these left now.” He prodded the straggly stems with a paw. “I’m not sure it’ll be enough to help Quiet Rain.”

Sun Shadow’s eyes clouded with worry. “Is she worse?”

Pebble Heart met his gaze steadily. “The journey weakened her, and the infection may now have burrowed too deep for me to treat it with mere poultices. I’m hoping that chewing a few of these old nettle stalks might help her fight it from the inside.”

Dew Nose hurried forward. “I can take them to her.”

Tall Shadow shooed the kit away with her tail. “Go and play,” she murmured distractedly. She stared at Pebble Heart. “Are there any herbs left in the hollow that we could get?”

“There should be.” Pebble Heart nodded.

Mud Paws narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “We can collect them while we’re out hunting,” he offered.

“Okay.” Tall Shadow flicked her tail. “But be careful not to hunt on Wind Runner’s land.”

“We will,” Mud Paws promised. He shook out his pelt and headed for the entrance.

Mouse Ear trekked through the snow after him, Sun Shadow at his heels.

The kits scampered through the snow in their wake, stopping as the toms disappeared through the camp entrance, and stared wistfully after them.

“You look tired, Pebble Heart.” Tall Shadow tipped her head to one side.

Thunder dragged his gaze from the kits. He suddenly noticed the exhaustion in the young tom’s eyes. Pebble Heart must have been up all night taking care of Quiet Rain. “I’ll take the nettles to her while you rest.” He sniffed them. They were little more than rotting stalks. “Does she just have to chew them?”

Pebble Heart’s tail drooped. “It might be hard to persuade her. She’s not an easy cat to care for.”

Thunder lifted his chin. “I’ll do my best.” He leaned down and grasped the nettle stems, relieved that the frost that had wilted them had also stolen their sting.

He carried them across the clearing and ducked into Pebble Heart’s den. The darkness inside was warm, but the air smelled sour with infection. Swallowing back queasiness, he crossed the earth floor to the heather nest where Quiet Rain lay. She didn’t move as he neared, but lay limply on the dry fronds. Heat pulsed from her pelt, and he dropped the nettle stems in front of her muzzle.

“What do you want?” Her mew took him by surprise and he jumped backward. She lifted her head heavily, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed the stalks. “What are these?”

“Nettle stems. Pebble Heart says you have to chew them. They’ll help your body fight the infection in your wound.”

Quiet Rain pushed the stems away with a paw. “I thought that cat was a healer, not a poisoner.”

“He went out in the snow to collect them for you,” Thunder pressed. “The least you could do is eat them.”

Quiet Rain met his gaze. “If he’d brought them for you, would you eat them?”

Thunder looked doubtfully at the stems. “I’m not sick.”

Quiet Rain snorted, then coughed.

Thunder watched her body shake, helpless against the convulsions. “Just eat them!” he growled sternly. He wasn’t going to let her die. Not after she’d come so far.

Quiet Rain’s coughing eased, and she eyed him with interest. “I’ll eat one if you do.”

Thunder’s claws itched with exasperation. “Okay.” He leaned forward, snatched a stem, and began to chew it. Bitter juice burst onto his tongue and he fought the urge to gag.

Quiet Rain let out a throaty purr. “Not all that tasty, I see?”

“It’s your turn now.” Thunder wasn’t going to let her off. “Unless you’re scared of a bit of nettle.”

He saw spirit flash in the old cat’s cloudy gaze. She stretched her muzzle forward and grasped a stalk between her teeth. Chewing, she screwed up her eyes, and then she swallowed. “Do you eat a lot of nettles here?”

Thunder’s whiskers twitched. “Just because we live in a forest doesn’t mean we’re rabbits!” He nodded to the two remaining stems. “You might as well finish them now that you’ve got the taste in your mouth.”

Satisfaction warmed his pelt as she swallowed the stalks. “See?” he commented as she finished.

“That wasn’t so bad.”

“Yes, it was,” she grunted. She closed her eyes, her face stiff as though fighting pain. When she opened them again, she let out a long, slow breath. “Let’s hope they work.”

Thunder sat down beside her nest and tucked his tail over his paws. “What you need is to get up and go hunting. All this lying around isn’t good for any cat,” he teased.

“If only I could.” Quiet Rain eyed him quizzically for a moment. “It’s hard to believe that Clear Sky’s your father. Even as a kit, he didn’t have much sense of fun. He was always too busy wishing he was somewhere else.”

“Is that why he left the mountains?” Thunder was surprised by his own curiosity. He didn’t want to be talking about Clear Sky, but he couldn’t help wondering what his father had been like as a kit.

“Yes.” Wistfulness clouded Quiet Rain’s gaze. “Jagged Peak was the same. But Gray Wing only left because I sent him away.”

“Why did you do that?” Thunder blinked at her.

“Jagged Peak left without permission. I thought he was too young for such a journey, so I sent

Gray Wing to take care of him.” She seemed to be staring far into the distance.

“And you knew they wouldn’t return.” Thunder felt a pang of sympathy for Quiet Rain. “You must have been worried.”

She shook her head. “I knew Gray Wing would protect Jagged Peak—that once he’d found him, he wouldn’t leave him. And I knew Jagged Peak would be too stubborn to turn back.”

“Why did you stay behind?”

“The mountains are my home,” Quiet Rain told him. “I was born there. And now that I’ve left them, I wish I hadn’t. This land may be green and prey-rich come greenleaf, but it only seems to make trouble. It set brother against brother. In the mountains we had so little; there was nothing to fight over.” Grief washed her gaze. “We would never have killed one another over land. I can’t believe Clear Sky murdered his Tribemate.”

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?”