Path Of Stars

Chapter 8

“I hope we’re not the only group the rogues are stealing from.” Wind Runner’s angry mew rang through the cold night air. A full moon bathed the moor with light.

Gorse Fur padded beside her. “Why would they target us?”

“Thunder hinted that was why he called tonight’s meeting,” Gray Wing reminded them as they headed toward the four trees hollow.

Thunder had visited the moor camp the day before, asking Wind Runner to bring a patrol to a meeting at the four trees. The orange tom had looked troubled. And thin. But he had said he didn’t want to discuss what was wrong until all the leaders were present.

Gray Wing followed Wind Runner and Gorse Fur between the wide swaths of heather. Slate was at his side. He relished the warmth of her pelt as it brushed against his.

Minnow padded at their tails. “I should have stayed behind with Spotted Fur and Reed,” she fretted. “Moth Flight and Dust Muzzle are too young to fight if the rogues attack the camp.”

“The rogues won’t attack the camp,” Gorse Fur reassured her. “They’re not that mouse-brained.”

Gray Wing hoped she was right. He’d suggested to Reed that he shelter with Spotted Fur and the kits in Wind Runner’s den for the night. If the rogues did cause any trouble, its narrow entrance and thick walls would make it easy to defend.

Wind Runner glanced over her shoulder, her eyes flashing in the silver moonlight. “Why can’t the rogues leave us alone?”

Gray Wing could understand Wind Runner’s frustration. Twice in the past half-moon, rogues had come onto their land. Once, they’d hunted rabbits on the high moor. The second time, they’d simply swiped prey from Moth Flight and Dust Muzzle, leaving the two young cats shaken.

Slate glanced at him. “Do you think Thunder has a plan?” she whispered.

“I hope so.” Gray Wing swished his tail-tip along her spine. “We can’t keep losing prey like this.” Rabbits had started venturing farther from their burrows in search of grazing, which made them easier to catch. But Gray Wing knew that the more rabbits they killed now, the fewer there’d be when leaf-bare really began to bite. He was thankful that snipe and grouse still roamed the moor. At least they wouldn’t starve. Unless the rogues kept taking their food.

The oaks loomed ahead, their ancient branches reaching above the rim of the hollow. Bare now, they stretched like claws toward the star-speckled sky. Gray Wing tasted the air and smelled pine and river scents. “Tall Shadow and River Ripple are here,” he told Slate softly.

“What about the others?” Her nostrils twitched.

“I’m not sure.” Thunder’s and Clear Sky’s musky scents were masked by the damp forest smell drifting from the trees beyond.

He followed Wind Runner and Gorse Fur over the rim of the hollow and squinted into the shadows below. Shapes moved between the trees. As he threaded his way down the bracken-covered slope, he heard the murmuring of voices. Gradually, more scents touched his nose.

“We’re the last to arrive,” he told Slate.

Minnow growled from the back. “Unless the rogues are planning to join us. We can’t seem to go anywhere these days without tripping over them.”

“Wind Runner!”

Gray Wing heard Thunder greet Wind Runner as she padded into the clearing.

He followed her out of the bracken, blinking as icy air bathed his face.

Thunder was standing between Leaf and Milkweed in the shadow of the great rock, while

Lightning Tail walked the edge of the clearing, sniffing warily at the undergrowth. Clear Sky paced in a pool of moonlight beside Blossom and Nettle. River Ripple was sitting in the middle of the clearing, Shattered Ice beside him. Gray Wing dipped his head in greeting, noticing how calm the river cats seemed, so still beside the restless pacing of the others.

Tall Shadow, Jagged Peak, and Mouse Ear stayed near the edge of the clearing, weaving around one another, their ears pricked, their gazes darting to any small stirring of the bracken on the slopes.

Tall Shadow lifted her tail as Wind Runner approached. Thunder moved from the shadow of the great rock to join them as they stopped beside River Ripple.

Thunder glanced around at the cats. “Our prey is being stolen by rogues.”

“Ours too!” Wind Runner’s eyes shone angrily in the dark.

“They’ve taken half our prey since Star Flower was rescued.” Tall Shadow sounded weary.

Clear Sky blinked at her sympathetically. “In the past few days, they’ve attacked two of our hunting parties. We’re all suffering.”

River Ripple’s tail swished over the ground. “They haven’t stolen our prey yet. Perhaps they don’t like fish.”

“Or getting their paws wet,” Shattered Ice added, a glint in his eyes.

Wind Runner turned on the gray-and-white tom. “This is no joking matter! Cats are going hungry, and leaf-bare is only just beginning!”

Shattered Ice dipped his head respectfully. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

River Ripple met Wind Runner’s angry stare. “There are plenty of fish in the river. We are happy to share what we have.”

“Fish!” Lightning Tail snorted. “Who wants to eat fish?”

“Hungry cats must eat what they can,” River Ripple answered.

Thunder swished his tail. “River Ripple’s offer is kind, but his fish can’t feed us all.”

“And what if the river freezes over?” Wind Runner added. “Then there’ll be no fish at all.”

Thunder stepped forward. “This is everyone’s problem. We need to find a solution.”

Clear Sky’s gaze flicked around the other cats. “This trouble started when the rogues kidnapped Star Flower,” he meowed. “And I’m sorry I got you involved, but I had no choice. You did the right thing in rescuing her. She’s safe, and my kits are growing stronger with each day. You know as well as I do that none of you would have slept soundly in your nests if you’d let them die.”

Gray Wing caught his brother’s eye. For once, Clear Sky had judged them perfectly. Not one of the cats who stood bathed in moonlight could have found peace knowing that Star Flower and her kits had come to harm because of their inaction. Pride surged beneath his pelt, and he padded closer to his brother. “Star Flower was just Slash’s excuse to start stealing from us.” He glanced around the leaders. “He is determined to hate us, and he must find a reason to justify his hate. It is deep in his bones, just as it was with One Eye.”

Thunder growled. “Some cats need an enemy to make them feel strong.”

River Ripple nodded. “Their bellies don’t feel full unless they are eating another cat’s food.”

Wind Runner’s pelt pricked impatiently along her spine. “What are we going to do about it?”

Tall Shadow’s ears twitched. “We’ve been sending out larger hunting patrols, but we’re always outnumbered.”

“How many rogues does Slash have?” Leaf lashed his tail, looking toward Gray Wing. “Has Fern given you any idea?”

“I haven’t seen her since we rescued Star Flower,” Gray Wing told him. “But I’ve seen their camp and smelled the scents. He seems to have a large group, but I’m not sure how big.”

Wind Runner flexed her claws. “You need to find out.”

Fear spiked Gray Wing’s belly as he imagined sneaking back to the marsh. It would be risky. And even if he found Fern again, he’d be putting her in danger just by talking to her.

Thunder blinked at him. “I’ll come with you. We can take a patrol.”

He felt Slate’s pelt pricking against his and scented her fear. “I’m coming too.”

Gray Wing shook his head. “I’m going alone. Sending a patrol might cause a battle.”

Wind Runner grunted. “Perhaps we should have a battle and end this once and for all.”

“No.” Clear Sky paced between the cats. “It would be mouse-brained to fight a battle against an enemy we don’t know. First we need to know how many rogues there are.”

Gray Wing nodded. Clear Sky was right. “I’ll find out what I can.”

“Meanwhile, we must prepare to defend what is ours.” Thunder glanced toward Lightning Tail.

“We’ve been training to fight and practicing battle moves. I think you should all start training so that you can fight off any rogue attack. There may be many of them, but they’re not very skilled. If they were, they wouldn’t have to travel in such big groups.”

Milkweed’s eyes glittered. “Lightning Tail has been teaching Clover and Thistle how to defend themselves.”

Tall Shadow flicked her tail-tip. “Storm Pelt, Dew Nose, and Eagle Feather each have their own trainer. They’ve only been learning to hunt so far, but they could learn some battle moves too.” She nodded to Mouse Ear. “You’ve formed quite a bond with Eagle Feather, haven’t you?”

“He’s a fast learner.” Mouse Ear glanced around at the other cats. “And it’s easier if I train him alone. I can learn his strengths and weaknesses and build on what he already knows.”

Lightning Tail blinked. “That’s a good idea.” He glanced at Thunder. “Maybe I should assign trainers to Clover and Thistle.”

“I’d be happy to train either of them,” Leaf offered. “They’re both bright and eager to learn.”

Milkweed fluffed out her pelt proudly.

Wind Runner exchanged looks with Gorse Fur. “Perhaps if Moth Flight had her own trainer, she’d learn faster. She certainly doesn’t seem to have learned much from us.”

“She’s doing fine—” Gorse Fur began to defend their kit, but Jagged Peak interrupted.

“I got nowhere trying to train Eagle Feather,” he admitted. “I was either too soft on him or too hard. We ended up squabbling.”

Mouse Ear shifted his paws. “It’s easy for me to see Eagle Feather’s progress with a clear eye. It seems more difficult to train one’s own kit.”

“Very well.” Clear Sky dipped his head. “Let’s all begin battle training, and give each kit their own trainer.”

Wind Runner nodded. Tall Shadow dipped her head. As River Ripple blinked his approval, shadows darkened the clearing.

Gray Wing glanced at the full moon. Clouds were beginning to drift across it. Thicker clouds lurked on the horizon. Night was coming, and it would be easier to reach Slash’s camp in the dark.

“I’ll go and find Fern now.” The sooner they knew what they were facing, the faster they could prepare. For what? His ears twitched uneasily. Was there really going to be a battle? He shuddered, remembering the Great Battle, fought right where they were standing. So many cats had died.

Slate moved closer and lowered her voice. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“I’m sure.” He wasn’t going to put her in danger.

She gazed at him, worry darkening her eyes. “Be careful,” she breathed.

“I’ll be okay,” he promised, hoping it was true. He knew what it was like to wait for a loved one who never returned, and he wouldn’t wish it on Slate for anything. Stiffening, he determined that he was going to be back at her side by dawn. “I promise.”

He nodded to the others, then turned and headed for the slope. Breaking into a run, he plunged into the bracken and headed toward the pine forest.

As he neared the edge of the pines, he tasted the air. He winced as he smelled the dank odor of decaying mushrooms and followed the scent, moving silently through the shadows, until he found a patch of wilted ink caps at the foot of a tree.

Wrinkling his nose, he lay down on the mushrooms, shuddering as he felt their rotting flesh collapse beneath his weight and squish into his fur. He stood up and shook out his pelt. The rankness of their scent would disguise his.

Gray Wing headed for the edge of the pines, ducking as he emerged from their shelter. The moon and stars were covered by cloud. Fern would be curled up in her nest, fast asleep. Would he have to wait like last time, to catch her on patrol? As the grass beneath his paws turned to mossy peat, he slowed. He could just make out the marsh grass rising ahead. The wall of the rogues’ camp was half-hidden by the dip. He veered away, heading for the willow copse, and climbed the slope, then crouched between the hazel thickets once again.

Blinking in the darkness, he pricked his ears and listened. He stiffened as an owl’s hoot echoed across the stretch of marshland. Wings fluttered far above his head, and the owl swooped, dipping over the boggy land, silent as it glided across the grass. Gray Wing watched it as it pulled up. It seemed to stall, turning its wings to slow itself and stretching out its claws. The shriek of prey cut through the air as the owl grabbed something and lifted into the sky, tracing a long, slow circle against the dark night as it headed back to the trees. Gray Wing strained his neck, following the owl with his gaze, his belly rumbling as he glimpsed a small shape wriggling in its claws. As the owl disappeared among the branches overhead, the grass below Gray Wing rustled.

Gray Wing snapped his head around, pelt bristling. A shape was moving up the slope toward him.

He drew back into the hazel thicket, pressing his belly to the ground, and unsheathed his claws.

“Gray Wing!”

His heart seemed to burst with relief as he recognized Fern’s mew. Two green eyes flashed at him through the darkness. He began to slide out of his hiding place, hesitating suddenly. Was this a trap?

He glanced beyond Fern, scanning the slope for other shapes. Then he tasted the air, frustrated as the stench of rotting ink caps bathed his tongue.

Fern snorted. “You smell foul,” she hissed as she stopped a tail-length from the hazel thicket. “It was the stink that woke me up. I guessed it was you. We don’t get many walking mushrooms around here.”

“Are you alone?” Gray Wing breathed, hoping he could still trust her.

“Of course I’m alone!” Her mew was indignant. “Do you think I risked my pelt just to betray you now?” Her eyes flashed with anger.

Gray Wing slid out of the thicket and stopped in front of her. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “It’s just that I don’t like coming here.”

“You should try living here,” she grunted.

“Why don’t you leave if you hate it?” Gray Wing stared in wonder at the young she-cat.

“I would if I thought there was anywhere safe from Slash.” She glanced over her shoulder, then slunk past Gray Wing and headed deeper into the copse. She led him to a clearing beyond the hazel thickets. “The farther away we are from camp the better,” she whispered. “If your stink woke me up, it might wake up someone else.”

“I was trying to disguise my scent.” Gray Wing’s pelt felt hot with embarrassment.

“It worked,” Fern snorted. “You smell worse than a badger.”

“At least I found you,” Gray Wing pointed out. “I thought I was going to have to wait.”

“Smelling like death is a great signal,” Fern muttered. “But you might want to tone it down a bit next time.” She blinked at him through the darkness. “Why are you here?”

“I need information,” he told her.

“What about?” Fern tipped her head to one side. “You rescued Star Flower, didn’t you?” She leaned closer. “Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

“Has she had her kits yet?”

Gray Wing’s tail bristled as he remembered the traumatic escape. “Yes. Two she-kits and a tom.”

Fern purred. “I’m glad. I wish I could tell Juniper and Willow. They’ve been worried about her.”

Gray Wing frowned, confused. “Who are Juniper and Willow?”

“Just campmates.” Fern shrugged.

“Why do they care about Star Flower and her kits?” They’d helped hold her captive, hadn’t they?

Fern lifted her chin indignantly. “We’re not all fox-hearts, you know!”

Gray Wing shifted his paws, even more confused. “Then why do you stay with Slash?”

Fern narrowed her eyes. “Why do you give him your prey?”

“He steals it!”

“Why not fight for it?” Fern pressed.

“He…” Gray Wing hesitated. He didn’t want to admit that Slash’s rogues outnumbered them.

“Slash knows how to make other cats do what he wants,” Fern growled. “If you go against Slash, you take a big risk. It’s easier to go along with whatever he says.”

“But you could leave.”

“I tried that, remember?” Fern glared at him. “I couldn’t sleep at night. Every time I heard a rustle in the brambles, I thought it was Slash coming to get me. He doesn’t like disloyalty.”

Gray Wing stared at her, his heart twisting as he realized what a huge risk she was taking just by talking to him.

She went on. “He also doesn’t like it when his plans are ruined. He’s been all wound up since you rescued Star Flower. He keeps going on about making you all pay.”

“We guessed,” Gray Wing growled darkly. “He’s been stealing our prey again.”

“I know.” Fern dropped her gaze. “I’ve never eaten so well.”

“We’re going hungry.”

Fern stared at him, her eyes widening with worry. “He won’t stop, you know. Not until he’s driven you out.”

“No one’s driving us out,” Gray Wing growled.

“Are you going to fight him?

“If we have to.” Gray Wing held her gaze. “But we need to know how many cats we face.”

Fern glanced away.

“I understand if you don’t want to help us.” Gray Wing guessed that she was scared of telling him anything that would make her campmates vulnerable. “But if we just had some idea of how many we were fighting…”

Fern turned back, her gaze intent. “If you stood up to Slash, some of us might stand up to him too.”

“Really?” Gray Wing’s pelt prickled with hope. “Do you think your campmates would actually help fight him?”

Fern drew away. “It’s hard to say. He has some loyal friends, but a lot of us think it was cruel to hold Star Flower in her condition. He risked the lives of unborn kits. A cat who’d do that is capable of anything. We’re scared to stay but even more scared to leave. Who knows what he’d do if he ever found us again?”

“Will you fight with us?” Gray Wing pressed.

Fern looked away. “I can’t promise anything. Slash is powerful. And he’s hungry for revenge.

Standing up to him means risking our lives. None of us want to die.”

Gray Wing’s heart sank. “Especially for cats you’ve never met.”

Fern glanced up at him. “I wish I could promise to help you, but I can’t even do that. I just wanted you to know that Slash may not be as powerful as he thinks.”

“I understand.” Gray Wing wished he could persuade this young cat to leave with him. He felt sure he could keep her safe. But it wasn’t enough for him to believe it. She needed to believe it too.

Fern was gazing at him with frightened eyes. “If your groups fight together, you’ll outnumber us,” she confessed. “But Slash is determined and cruel, and he will make us pay for cowardice and disloyalty with our own blood. If there is a battle, it will be a hard one. Slash will fight to the death, and he’ll expect us to do the same.”

“What if we just waited?” Gray Wing suggested hopefully. “Do you think he might move on?”

Fern snorted. “Slash enjoys his anger. He’ll hold on to it for as long as it makes him feel powerful and he gets your prey.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think he wants a battle, and if stealing your prey doesn’t make you fight him, he’ll find another way to start it.” She shrugged apologetically.

“Either way, you’re going to lose.”

“Not if some of your campmates join us.”

“I can’t promise that. If it looks like a battle you can’t win, none of us will dare join you.”

The owl hooted again.

Fern’s tail quivered. “I should get back. If anyone notices I’m missing, they’ll want to know where I’ve been.”

Gray Wing gazed at her. “Come with me.”

She shook her head. “I have kin here who will suffer if I leave.”

Gray Wing blinked. “Why would your kin suffer?”

“He’ll blame my sister for my disloyalty.” Fern turned to leave. “Be careful, Gray Wing. Slash is determined to make you pay.”

“What for?” Helplessness swamped Gray Wing.

Fern stared at him blankly. “For being happy, I guess.”

He watched her disappear between the trees. Is that how our groups seem to Slash? Happy? He thought of the hollow on the moor and his nest. Slate would be there, staring into the darkness as she waited for his return. A purr rumbled softly in his throat. He couldn’t imagine any cat waiting hopefully for Slash. His campmates lived in fear of him. He stole to feel powerful. No cat who lived like that could be happy.

Gray Wing wove between the willows, quickening his pace as he slipped from the copse and began to cross the marshland. Breaking into a run, he raced for the pines, relieved to slip into their shadow. He skirted Tall Shadow’s camp and headed for the moor. His chest tightened with every step. But he had to get home. Slate would be worried. Ignoring his wheezing, he pushed on. Anger surged beneath his pelt. Why couldn’t he breathe?

It must be the cold night air, he reasoned. With a sudden pang, he longed for the days when he could race from forest to moor and back again with ease.

By the time he reached the hollow, he was struggling for every breath. He slowed as he crossed the grass outside the entrance. He wanted to catch his breath before he padded into camp. He glanced at the forest behind him. The treetops were turning pink beneath the rising sum.

“Gray Wing!” Slate’s call took him by surprise. She darted from the camp and wove around him, purring loudly. “I was so worried.”

“I told you I’d be okay,” he puffed.

“You need to rest.” Slate began to guide him into camp.

“I have to talk to Wind Runner first.” He struggled to speak.

“Did you find Fern?”

“Yes.” He headed for Wind Runner’s den.

The brown she-cat slid out as he neared, her eyes bright. “What did she say?”

“She…” Gray Wing stopped, panting for air.

“Wait until you get your breath back,” Wind Runner ordered.

Gray Wing sat down, feeling the moments pass as he willed his chest to loosen.

Slate settled beside him, her eyes clouding with worry. Wind Runner paced around them, the fur pricking around her neck.

At last, Gray Wing found breath enough to speak. “Fern says that if the groups join together, we’ll outnumber them. And she says that Slash’s campmates fear him. They might not fight for him if there was a battle.”

Wind Runner’s eyes lit up. “Then we can beat him?”

Gray Wing shook his head. “She couldn’t promise that they’d betray him. They’re scared of him, and with good reason. Slash is out for revenge, and he’s dangerous. We need to be on guard.”

Slate pressed against Gray Wing. “Is he going to attack?”

“She said he might,” Gray Wing told her. “We must have patrols watching the camp at all times.

We need to be prepared for anything.”

Wind Runner glanced toward the camp entrance. “I’ll post guards day and night.”

“I’ll take first watch.” Slate blinked at her eagerly.

Wind Runner shook her head. “You’ve been up all night waiting.” Her gaze moved to Gray Wing.

“You both need to rest. Spotted Fur can stand guard.” She flicked her tail toward Gray Wing’s nest.

“Go and get some sleep.”

Grateful, Gray Wing heaved himself to his paws. Slate pressed against him as he padded to their nest. The heather felt fresh as he climbed inside. “Did you line it while I was gone?” he asked.

“I knew you’d be tired when you got home, and I wanted you to have somewhere comfortable to rest.”

Gray Wing purred as he curled up in the soft heather. Slate climbed in after him and snuggled down beside him.

Exhausted, Gray Wing closed his eyes, relieved to feel Slate’s warmth against him. For a moment he pitied Slash. No cat that cruel could have felt love like this. Then his pity gave way to anger. Why did Slash want to make others suffer? His mind began to drift as tiredness pulled him toward sleep.

Images of the moor, bright with heather, flashed in his mind. His thoughts jumbled; the pink heather turned red with blood as Gray Wing slipped into troubled dreams.