A Forest Divided

Chapter 22

Thunder’s mew woke Clear Sky. Jerking up his head, he blinked at his son. It’s still night!

Moonlight filtered through the pines, reflecting in Thunder’s gaze.

“What is it?” Clear Sky stiffened. “Why did you wake me?” He kept his voice low, conscious of Star Flower sleeping beside him.

“Pebble Heart sent me. It’s Quiet Rain.” Thunder’s mew was tight with fear. “She’s worse.”

Clear Sky scrambled to his paws and hopped from the nest hollowed out beneath the bramble.

Star Flower stirred in her sleep but didn’t wake.

“Gray Wing’s with her and I’m going to wake Jagged Peak.” Thunder nodded to the bramble den, where the kits, warm and fed after their adventure, were now sleeping.

As Thunder padded away, Clear Sky tasted the air. The stone tang of ice had gone. Musty forest scents bathed his tongue. A thaw had set in—melting snow dripped from the canopy.

He padded through the slush toward Pebble Heart’s den.

The young tom was waiting at the entrance. “I’m glad you decided to stay another night,” he breathed as Clear Sky neared him. His eyes glittered with grief. “I thought I could save her”—his mew cracked—“but the wound…”

“You couldn’t have done more.” Numbness crept up from Clear Sky’s paws until he could hardly feel the damp air or taste the pine-rich scents of the forest. Quiet Rain is dying. He stared into the shadowy den. I must go in. Every hair on his pelt trembled. I can’t.

Paws splashed through the melting snow behind him. He caught Star Flower’s scent just before her flank brushed against his.

He turned and stared into the depth of her luminous green eyes.

“She’s waiting for you.” Star Flower’s breath warmed his nose.

He closed his eyes, his heart pounding with dread. Then, blinking, he padded into the den.

Gray Wing turned as he entered. The gray tom was crouching beside Quiet Rain’s nest. “Pebble Heart’s given her something to ease her pain.” His mew trembled. “I’m not sure she can hear us.”

Clear Sky gazed at his mother, who was little more than a scrap of fur in the heather nest. He had never seen her so weak. Even in the hungriest days on the mountain, she still seemed to glow with life, fighting for her survival and the safety of her kits. Now she lay limp, every drop of energy drained. Her flanks trembled with each halting breath. Her muzzle was crusty, and her closed eyes looked as wet as fresh wounds.

“Quiet Rain.” Gray Wing leaned closer as Clear Sky crouched beside him. “Clear Sky’s here now. You asked for him, remember?”

Clear Sky stiffened as Quiet Rain groaned.

She opened her eyes slowly. “You came to me.”

“Yes.” Clear Sky tried to keep the grief from his mew.

“I knew you would, my dear friend.”

Friend? I’m your son. “It’s me, Clear Sky.” He moved his muzzle closer so she could smell his scent.

“It’s good to see you, Shaded Moss.”

She thinks I’m Shaded Moss!

The brambles rattled behind him as Jagged Peak hurried in. He slid next to Gray Wing. “How is she?”

“She thinks she can see Shaded Moss,” Clear Sky breathed.

The fur rippled along Jagged Peak’s spine. “Does she even know we’re here?”

Gray Wing’s shoulders drooped. “I don’t think so.”

“Shaded Moss.” Quiet Rain’s gaze fixed on Clear Sky.

Grief shuddered through him. She doesn’t know me. He swallowed, fighting the urge to run away.

“This is the final part of the journey, dear old friend.” Quiet Rain struggled for breath between words. Her ears twitched weakly, as though she was trying to hear something. “What was that you said?” A frown furrowed her brow. “Forgive him? But he killed a Tribemate! He drove his brothers away.”

Clear Sky stiffened, heat washing his pelt.

Gray Wing glanced at him. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

But it’s true. Sadness gripped his heart like claws, digging so deep he wanted to groan with the pain.

Suddenly, Quiet Rain’s eyes closed and her head drooped.

Jagged Peak thrust his muzzle closer. “Is she—” The words seemed to dry in his mouth.

Clear Sky guessed what his brother was thinking and leaned forward, relieved to feel Quiet Rain’s breath on his muzzle. “No.”

As he spoke, her eyes slowly opened.

He flinched away, his heart lurching. There was sudden clarity in their blue depths. She was staring straight at him.

“It’s me—Clear Sky,” he told her. He didn’t want her to call him Shaded Moss again.

“I know,” she murmured. Her gaze flicked to Gray Wing, then Jagged Peak. “All my sons are here.” There was satisfaction in her mew. “Don’t be sad when I’m gone. It will be a relief. I have had a long life, and a good one. I’ve known hunger and cold, but I’ve known love too.” She blinked softly at all three of them, her gaze coming to rest on Clear Sky. “And I forgive you, my firstborn. Shaded Moss has spoken to me. He explained…” Coughing took hold of her, racking her body until she convulsed helplessly on the heather.

“Quiet Rain!” Clear Sky leaned over her.

“Help her!” Jagged Peak called to Pebble Heart, who lingered, wide-eyed, in the entrance.

“There’s nothing more I can do,” Pebble Heart murmured.

The coughing eased, and Quiet Rain rasped as she struggled for breath. “Shaded Moss told me.”

“Told you what?” Clear Sky thrust his muzzle closer.

“Let her rest.” Jagged Peak reached out his paw and placed it gently on her flank. “She must save her strength.”

“Save her strength for what? She’s dying!” Clear Sky trembled. “What did Shaded Moss say?”

“It was all foretold,” Quiet Rain rasped. “You could not help what you did. It had to be that way.

I forgive you, Clear Sky, and now”—she drew in a shuddering breath—“you must forgive yourself.”

Clear Sky felt grief rush over him like a wave as Quiet Rain’s eyes clouded and grew dull. Her head dropped limply onto the heather and her flanks fell still.

Clear Sky pushed himself to his paws and, leaning over Quiet Rain, closed her lifeless eyes with gentle laps of his tongue.

Forgive yourself. Her words rang in his mind. For what? His thoughts whirled. So much had happened! What was the crime he was supposed to forgive himself for?

Weak daylight was seeping into the den. Eagle Feather’s mew rang across the camp. “The snow’s melting!”

Small paw steps splashed across the clearing.

Jagged Peak got wearily to his paws and padded from the den. Gray Wing followed, his tail dragging over the earth.

Clear Sky gazed at Quiet Rain, his heart breaking. If she’d never come here, I wouldn’t have had to watch this.

And yet a dark knowledge, deep in his belly, told him that these final moments with his mother would mark the rest of his life.