A Forest Divided

Chapter 1

Clear Sky yawned and stretched his forepaws until they trembled. He looked over the edge of his nest. A biting wind sliced beneath the arching root, which usually shielded him as he slept. It nipped his ears, and he narrowed his eyes against its sting as he gazed over the clearing.

Quick Water was crossing the camp, her fur fluffed up against the cold. A shriveled mouse hung from her jaws. Birch and Alder peeked out from beneath the low, spreading yew. Petal had made their nest beneath its dark green branches after she’d adopted them. Their own mother had been killed, and they hardly remembered her scent. Now Petal was dead too, taken by the sickness that had swept the forest before leaf-bare had come. Birch and Alder had nearly died, but the Blazing Star had saved them.

The Blazing Star. Clear Sky felt a pang of grief. If only Star Flower had told them about it sooner.

It was the only healing herb that could cure the sickness. Now it shaped their future. He stood and shook out his fur as Alder and Birch hurried out to meet Quick Water.

“Is that for us?” Birch’s eyes were hopeful.

His sister, Alder, dipped her head to Quick Water. “If you tell us where you found it, we could go and catch our own.” The littermates were almost fully grown, lithe and fast and always eager to hunt.

Clear Sky felt proud of the cats they’d become, and was pleased that he’d decided to let Petal take them in.

“Don’t be squirrel-brained.” Quick Water dropped the mouse at their paws. “We can share this one and hunt together later.”

Alder and Birch blinked at her gratefully.

Clear Sky felt a prickle of worry as he watched them crouch close to Quick Water, taking turns to snatch a bite of the skinny prey. Prey was scarce. The sickness had killed much of it, and the forest was eerily silent, even for leaf-bare.

He shook the chill from his fur and hopped out of his nest. He’d wandered in the forest until dawn and had returned to rest, weary from the cold. The memory of the dream had followed him into sleep.

Fluttering Bird wanted the cats to join together. They must be like the Blazing Star and gather like petals around the heart of a flower. He was sure of it. It made sense. If the cold had reached this deep into the forest, it would be bitter on the high moor. And with prey so scarce, the moor cats would surely freeze or starve if they stayed in their hollow. They’d be safer here, sheltered by the trees, hunting together, as Fluttering Bird had ordered.

He must tell them.

Perhaps they already know? For the first time he wondered what the spirit cats had shared with the others. Hope flickered in his belly. Perhaps they were ready to unite.

He slid out from beneath the root, its gnarled bark scraping his spine, and padded across the frozen earth.

Pink Eyes was crouching in the shelter of the spreading holly, squinting against the wind. Tiny flecks of snow swirled in the air and clung to his fur. Pink Eyes’s tail twitched with annoyance and he drew his paws tighter under him.

Clear Sky nodded to him. “Where’s Blossom?” he asked.

The old tom had arrived at the border with the tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat when the moon was only a scratch of silver in the sky, not long after the battle with One Eye.

“Still asleep,” Pink Eyes answered, flicking his muzzle toward the holly bush. In the shadows beneath, Clear Sky could make out Blossom’s pelt. When she was awake, the young she-cat hardly stood still. She was skittish and full of energy.

When Clear Sky had first met her, she’d been leaping for a dead leaf as it fluttered toward the forest floor while Pink Eyes sat a few tail-lengths away, his thin white tail curled neatly over two dead mice. He’d stood when Clear Sky had approached and had spoken before Clear Sky had a chance to challenge them for loitering near his border. “May we join your group?”

There had been a time when Clear Sky would have driven the two strays from his border—especially Pink Eyes, whose sight was so poor he couldn’t see a bird in a tree—but these cats had respected his scent line and kept their hackles soft, and Clear Sky had learned that friends were better than enemies. So they’d joined the group, and Clear Sky was soon glad that they had. Pink Eyes’s weak eyesight had strengthened his other senses. The white tom could hear a mouse in the next glade and smell a rabbit through a patch of wild garlic.

Alder looked up from her meal, her splotchy gray-and-white pelt pricking where tiny snowflakes had settled along her spine. As she licked her lips, her gaze flashed toward Pink Eyes’s twitching tail.

Clear Sky saw mischief light up her eyes. She lunged and grabbed it, rolling onto her back. With a purr, she began pummeling it playfully with her hind legs.

“Hey!” Pink Eyes turned on her angrily. “Chase your own tail!”

“Why?” Alder froze, her paws in the air, and blinked at him innocently. “I’m not a dog!”

Pink Eyes glared at her. “And my tail isn’t prey.”

Birch padded to his sister’s side, his ginger pelt bright in the weak morning light. “I just wish prey was so easy to catch,” he said lightly.

The old tom snorted and marched away. He circled in a sheltered spot between the roots of an oak, then sat down and stared pointedly at Birch and Alder.

The brambles at the far end of the camp rattled. Nettle padded through the gap at one side. His thick gray pelt was damp. Acorn Fur followed him, a battered starling hanging from her jaws. Leaf padded after them, carrying a scrawny squirrel.

“I’ve never seen prey so scarce.” Nettle padded past his campmates and stopped beside Clear Sky. “I don’t know how we’ll make it to newleaf.”

Anxiety wormed in Clear Sky’s belly. Alder and Birch were staring hungrily at Acorn Fur’s starling. Quick Water’s mouse clearly hadn’t filled their bellies. We must survive! Clear Sky glanced through the trees. Was there more prey on the moor? Suddenly the boundaries he’d fought so hard to establish seemed to trap him. We need to share what we have, not guard it. Fluttering Bird must have known that.

“I’m going to Gray Wing’s camp,” he told Nettle.

Nettle’s ear twitched. “Why?”

Clear Sky shifted his paws. Nettle had fought beside him to keep the boundaries they’d made.

What would he say when he heard Clear Sky had suddenly decided that the cats should share their land and live as one group? He would understand once he knew that it was what the spirit cats wanted. But there wasn’t time to explain now. “I want to see Jagged Peak’s kits.” This was true. He hadn’t visited his brother’s litter yet.

“The weather’s closing in.” Nettle glanced at the thick yellow clouds crowding the treetops.

“There’ll be heavy snow before the day’s out, and if the wind picks up—”

Clear Sky interrupted. “I come from the mountains, remember? I’m used to getting snow in my whiskers.”

Nettle shrugged. “It’s your pelt.” He glanced across the clearing as Blossom slid out from beneath the holly.

“Do I smell prey?” she asked brightly. Her gaze swiveled toward Acorn Fur.

Acorn Fur dropped her starling. “There’s not much, but we can share.”

Leaf laid his squirrel on the ground. “It’ll do for now.” His mew was cheerful, but Clear Sky could see worry darkening his gaze. The sooner he persuaded the cats they’d be safer working together, the better. He headed for the gap in the brambles. “Make sure Pink Eyes gets some food,” he called over his shoulder. “His hungry belly is making him grouchy.” He shot a teasing look at the white cat.

Pink Eyes stared stiffly ahead, as though deaf. Clear Sky knew his sharp hearing hadn’t missed his jibe. Affection surged beneath his pelt. Proud old fleabag!

Blossom leaped onto a root beside Pink Eyes. “Do you want to share the starling or the squirrel?”

“I guess a bite of squirrel might be nice,” the tom huffed grudgingly.

Purring, Clear Sky slipped through the bramble tunnel.

Outside camp, the wind was brisker. The branches above him swished in the breeze. He opened his mouth and tasted snow. It carried the stone tang of the mountains. Nettle had been right. A heavy snowfall was on its way. He hurried between the trees. The sooner he reached the moor cats’ hollow, the better.

He followed the ridge until it dipped, then he leaped a fallen tree and climbed the slope beyond.

Bare brambles snaked over the ground, and he had to watch where he put each paw. The ferns had withered long ago, but in their musty stumps Clear Sky could smell a hint of the forest’s greenleaf lushness. Stiff bracken crowded the top of the slope. Clear Sky pushed through it, narrowing his eyes against the light as he neared the edge of the forest. He broke from the trees, ducking instinctively as he hit open country.

The icy wind streamed through his whiskers, and he flattened his ears. He glanced one way, then the other, tasting the air for danger. Dog scent clung to the grass, but it was stale, and he crossed the swath of withered ferns edging the woods and began to climb through the rough grass.

He paused as he neared a stunted thorn tree standing alone on the barren moorside. Beneath it, a mound of soil marked the grave where they had buried One Eye, the bloodthirsty rogue. The cats from moor, forest, and river had joined together to defeat him. Snow flecked the soil, and thrushes sang in the branches above.

He was a true ray of light.

Bitterness rose in Clear Sky’s throat as he remembered Star Flower’s words at the burial. How could she have been so deluded? One Eye might have been her father, but even she must have been shocked by his cruelty.

How could she have betrayed Thunder for him? Clear Sky snorted. He still couldn’t believe that the treacherous she-cat had deceived his son.

The wind blew harder. Heather swayed ahead of him, and he hurried for its shelter, ducking among the brown bushes until he found a rabbit trail between the stems. He followed it, relieved to be out of the wind, zigzagging this way and that as he made his way up the winding path.

The heather gave way to a smooth grassy slope. In the open once more, Clear Sky spied the dip in the hillside where the moor cats’ camp lay. He quickened his pace. Snowflakes streamed around him, falling thicker now.

Movement caught his eyes. A small flash of fur against the grass ahead made him freeze.

Prey.

A small rabbit was hopping toward the heather. Clear Sky dropped into a crouch and pricked his ears. Excitement surged through him as warm rabbit scent filled his nose. His tail twitched. He waggled his hindquarters, preparing to pounce.

Suddenly, the rabbit stopped and looked around, ears high.

Clear Sky froze.

The rabbit blinked, then bolted for the heather.

Now! Clear Sky surged forward. His paws rang on the frozen earth.

The rabbit fled. Fear-scent trailed in its wake. Clear Sky was closing in. He pushed harder against the frosty grass, fixing his gaze on the space in front of it.

Then he leaped. Stretching his forepaws, he landed squarely on his prey. It struggled beneath him.

He was surprised at its strength. Quickly, he dug in his claws and sank his teeth into its neck. The spine snapped cleanly and the rabbit fell limp.

Clear Sky’s mouth watered as blood bathed his tongue. He sat up and licked his lips. Should he leave his catch to take back to his own cats? He glanced toward the hollow. The moor cats might have greater need. And it would make a generous offering to Jagged Peak and Holly, in honor of their first litter.

He grabbed the rabbit’s scruff in his jaws and carried it up the slope.

As he neared the moor cats’ camp, he scanned the top of its gorse wall. Where was Tall Shadow?

She was usually watching from her rock, scanning the moor with her solemn, wary gaze. He slowed as he reached the camp entrance. There was no cat guarding it. He pricked his ears. Had the weather driven them into their tunnels?

“We should wait for the snow to pass before we send out a hunting patrol.”

Clear Sky heard Thunder’s mew beyond the camp wall. Pride swelled in his chest. His son had grown into a fine tom.

“What if it lasts for days?” Gray Wing’s mew answered Thunder.

“Let’s worry about that when it happens.”

Clear Sky nosed through the gap in the gorse.

Gray Wing turned to meet him, eyes round with surprise. “Clear Sky? What are you doing here?”

Clear Sky dropped his catch. “I came to visit Jagged Peak’s kits.” He glanced around the camp, a purr rumbling in his throat as he spied three kits tumbling across the grass at the far end of the hollow.

Thunder didn’t follow his gaze. He was staring at the rabbit on the ground in front of Clear Sky.

“Did you catch that on our land?” His amber eyes narrowed.

Clear Sky blinked at him. Only a few moons ago, they’d begun to grow close. Now he felt further from his son than ever before. “I—I brought it for Jagged Peak and Holly.”

One of the kits squeaked excitedly. “I’m the fastest!”

Clear Sky saw a brown tom-kit struggle from his littermate’s grip and race toward Jagged Peak, who was watching from the long grass at the edge of the hollow.

“No, you’re not!” A tabby she-kit raced after him. The splotches on her pelt were like Holly’s.

White tips on her nose and her tail made her look as though she’d been dipped in snow.

“Wait for me!” A third kit trailed behind. His thick gray pelt and lithe frame reminded Clear Sky of Jagged Peak before the accident that had crippled his hind leg.

“Eagle Feather!” Holly stepped from the shelter of the long grass, and the brown tom-kit bundled into her. She scooped him up by his scruff and dropped him into the grass behind her. “Storm Pelt!

Dew Nose! Back into your nest, all of you! It’s too cold to be out.”

Jagged Peak swished his tail. “They’ll be warm enough so long as they keep moving.”

“Let them play!” Shattered Ice called across the clearing. “It’ll make them strong.” The gray-and-white tom looked thin.

Mud Paws and Lightning Tail sat a tail-length away, sharing an emaciated mouse. Clear Sky could see their bones jutting beneath their fur.

Mud Paws looked up, chewing. “Check their tail-tips,” he advised. “If they’re frozen, it’s time to stop.”

“Let them have fun!” Sparrow Fur padded out from beneath the arching broom at the end of the camp. The she-kit had grown, but she was skinny, and her pelt dull. “If there is a snowstorm on the way, it might be the last fun they have for days.”

Gray Wing kneaded the ground with his paws. “We really should send out a hunting party now.”

“They might get caught in the storm,” Thunder argued. “And Clear Sky has brought this rabbit.”

He nudged it with his wide paw. “The kits won’t go hungry.”

Clear Sky blinked. “Are they eating prey already?”

“They were born the new moon before last,” Gray Wing reminded him.

That long ago? Clear Sky’s thoughts flitted back to the dream. We grow tired of waiting. They had promised to spread and grow like the Blazing Star. He caught Gray Wing’s eye. “We have to talk about what we saw.” He scanned the clearing. “Is Tall Shadow here?”

“Pebble Heart’s treating a scratch on her paw.” Thunder nodded toward a jutting stretch of gorse.

“In Cloud Spots’s den.”

“I can get her if you like.” A mew sounded behind Clear Sky.

He jerked around. It was Owl Eyes. The young tom had broadened across the shoulders. His forehead was nearly as wide as Gray Wing’s. “You’ve grown!” Clear Sky exclaimed.

“So has Pebble Heart.” Owl Eyes stalked away and called into the gorse. “Tall Shadow, Clear Sky is here.”

“I know.” The black she-cat’s familiar mew sounded from the shadows. “I can smell his scent.”

The bush quivered as Tall Shadow slid out.

Pebble Heart followed. “I’ll put fresh ointment on it tomorrow,” he mewed.

“Thanks.” Tall Shadow stopped beside Clear Sky. “What do you want?”

Clear Sky hardly heard her. He was gazing across the snowy clearing. Jagged Peak nuzzled Eagle

Feather near the edge. Pebble Heart followed Owl Eyes across the grass.

Sparrow Fur called to them from the broom. “Shelter under here!”

Gray Wing’s gaze shone proudly as he watched. “She’s so like her mother,” he purred. “And

Jagged Peak is turning out to be a great father.”

Clear Sky glanced guiltily at Thunder. Would his son ever truly forgive him for driving him away? He looked back toward Jagged Peak, who’d crouched low to let Eagle Feather scramble onto his back. Jagged Peak is a far better father than I was. He shifted his paws, feeling the cold pierce his fur. And Gray Wing raised another tom’s kits while I wouldn’t even raise my own.

“Well?” Tall Shadow’s sharp mew jerked him back to the present. “Why did you come?”

He met her eye. “I saw you in my dream last night.”

“And we saw you.” Tall Shadow tipped her head.

Clear Sky leaned forward, his heart quickening. “What did the spirit cats tell you?”

“To stop thinking and act,” Tall Shadow told him. “That we’ve delayed too long.”

“That’s what they told me too!” Clear Sky trembled with excitement. “They want us to join together.”

“Join together?” Tall Shadow stared at him, eyes wide.

“Are you sure you heard them right?” Thunder tipped his head, curious.

“They told us to spread,” Gray Wing snapped.

Clear Sky’s belly twisted with frustration. They’ve misunderstood the spirit cats’ message.

“We’ll be stronger together, especially with prey so scarce and bad weather coming.” He lifted his face to the thickening snow. “We’re more likely to spread and grow if we join forces.”

Gray Wing narrowed his eyes. “But don’t you remember what I said after the last dream? The Blazing Star has five petals, so I think we should split into five groups.”

“We didn’t agree on that,” Clear Sky reminded him. “That’s only what you think. I think the spirit cats want us to join together!”

Tall Shadow’s ear twitched. “Lovely, it’s another battle between the two of you,” she growled.

“When the time comes, I won’t be joining your group. I want to make my own camp in the pine forest.”

Clear Sky stared at her. “You can’t!” His mind raced. What were they talking about? This was the opposite of what Fluttering Bird wanted!

“Tall Shadow’s not the only cat who wants to move on,” Gray Wing murmured.

Clear Sky jerked around to stare at his brother. “What do you mean?”

Gray Wing dropped his gaze. “There’s been talk in the camp ever since the last dream. Not everyone wants to live on the moor.”

“Come to my forest, then.” Clear Sky pressed. Why were they making this so complicated? “It’s sheltered there. With more cats, we can find more prey.”

Thunder frowned. “I don’t understand. You used to try to keep us out of the forest.”

Clear Sky met his gaze. “I used to defend my borders,” he admitted. “But I’ve changed. Now that I’ve spoken with Fluttering Bird, I know what—”

Gray Wing pricked his ears. “You saw Fluttering Bird?” His eyes lit up. “How is she?”

“She’s well.” Warmth flooded Clear Sky as he remembered his sister’s sleek fur. “Better than she ever was in life.”

“What did she say?” Tall Shadow asked slowly.

“She said we must each follow our hearts,” Clear Sky told her.

“She meant we must find our own homes,” Tall Shadow concluded.

“No!” Clear Sky flexed his claws in frustration. “Why would the spirit cats ask us to split up now? We’d be making ourselves vulnerable—especially after the sickness killed off so much prey.

We must join together! The way we used to be. The way we should have stayed.” His pelt grew hot.

Gray Wing and Thunder were staring at him through narrowed eyes. Didn’t they trust him? “Please come with me to the forest.” He flicked his tail toward the other cats, half-hidden by the snow, which swirled across the clearing. “Every cat must come. It’s sheltered there.”

“No, Clear Sky.” Thunder’s growl cut to Clear Sky’s heart. “After everything that’s happened, we can’t go back to how it was.” His amber gaze sharpened. “Cats have died over the borders you created. Now you want us to pretend they were never there.”

“But what about the spirit cats?” Clear Sky’s mew was hoarse. They’re rejecting my plan.

Gray Wing met Clear Sky’s gaze. “They told us to spread and grow, and that’s what we’ll do.”

“You should go home.” Thunder jerked his nose toward the camp entrance. “No one’s coming to live in the forest with you. If you want more cats to boss around, recruit some new strays.”

Clear Sky swallowed. What’s gotten into Thunder? Did he really believe Clear Sky just wanted to boss more cats around? Did he think he’d learned nothing?

Tall Shadow gazed anxiously into the wind. Flakes of snow whipped her face. “Perhaps he should wait out the storm. It’s almost on us.”

Clear Sky shook his head. He didn’t want to stay. “I’ll go,” he growled.

Head down, he padded to the entrance. He had come to unite the cats. Now he felt further away from them than ever. How would he explain this to Fluttering Bird? He’d failed her. He pushed through the gorse, his paws heavy as stone. There must be some way to make the moor cats understand. He flattened his ears as he padded out onto the open grass beyond the gorse. The wind was strong, the snow thick. It buffeted his fur, so cold that it felt like claws slicing through his pelt.

Hunching low, Clear Sky hurried toward the heather.

I’ll make them understand, Fluttering Bird. Snow battered his face. I’ll make them follow their hearts, I promise. We’ll be together soon.