The First Battle

Chapter 6

Where is everyone? Thunder strained to see through the mist. Dawn light filtered weakly through the thick fog, which shrouded the moor. Am I early?

He was waiting to join Gray Wing’s expedition to Clear Sky’s camp. Gorse Fur had promised to come. Jackdaw’s Cry had volunteered too. But Thunder was the only one outside the hollow.

Paw steps scuffed behind him.

Thunder whipped around. “Gray Wing?”

A dark shape showed through the mist. “It’s me.” Jackdaw’s Cry’s mew was hushed. “Where are the others?” His black face emerged from the fog, a muzzle-length away.

Thunder shrugged. “I’m the only one here.” He stretched his ears. The fog muffled the sounds of the camp. “Is anyone else out of their nest?”

“It was too foggy to tell.” Jackdaw’s Cry shook out his pelt with a shiver and sat down.

Thunder faced the moor stiffly as silence descended between them, thicker than the fog. He remembered the black tom’s hostile gaze yesterday. Jackdaw’s Cry had never wanted him to join the cats on the moor, even as a kit. He hunched against the chill of the fog, the memory of his early loss echoing painfully in his chest. In one day, he’d lost his mother, been rejected by his father, and then had to stand and listen while Gray Wing pleaded with the moor cats to allow him to stay in their camp. Jackdaw’s Cry had argued that they couldn’t take in another mouth to feed. He’d backed down when Gray Wing had threatened to leave if Thunder was sent away, but Thunder still carried the memory of the black tom’s resentful gaze.

He pictured it now, its sharpness boring deeper and deeper until Thunder couldn’t stay quiet. “Are you hoping I’ll go back to my father?”

Jackdaw’s Cry jerked around, blinking. “Why would you say that?” He sounded confused.

“I’ve seen how you’ve been watching me since I returned,” Thunder growled bitterly. “You didn’t want me back. You never wanted me to begin with.”

“You were Clear Sky’s son.” Jackdaw’s Cry shifted his paws. “Not our responsibility.”

“I had nowhere else to go,” Thunder murmured.

Jackdaw’s Cry didn’t answer.

“Where did you think I’d end up?” Anger pricked at Thunder’s paws. “I wasn’t old enough to hunt for myself.”

“Hawk Swoop had her own kits to take care of. I had to put them first.”

“Was that a good enough reason to turn a kit out alone onto the moor?” Thunder hissed.

Jackdaw’s Cry’s fur lifted uncomfortably along his spine. “Clear Sky would have taken you in if you had nowhere else to go.” He stared into the mist. “He’d never let his own kit die.”

“Do you still believe that?”

Jackdaw’s Cry didn’t answer.

“What about now?” Thunder pressed. “Would you rather I went back to Clear Sky? Or lived as a rogue?”

Jackdaw’s Cry swished his tail, sending the fog swirling about him. “You’re here,” he meowed matter-of-factly. “Why worry about it?”

Thunder stared at the black tom. Would this stubborn cat ever accept him? He padded forward a few paces and tasted the damp air. It was rich with the peaty musk of the moor. Then a fishy tang touched his nose. He stiffened as paws brushed the grass ahead and a shape showed through the mist.

Thunder hissed. “Who’s that?” He didn’t recognize the scent.

A purr echoed from the fog and Thunder recognized the sleek, silver-furred rogue who lived beside the water, River Ripple. A scrap of prey dangled from the newcomer’s jaws.

Thunder stiffened as River Ripple dropped a dead lizard onto the grass. Is that prey? He gagged.

“Calm your waters,” River Ripple mewed. “It’s only me.”

“What are you doing here?” Jackdaw’s Cry stepped forward.

“You’re a long way from the river,” Thunder pointed out.

“I wanted to see how far the fog stretched.” He peered across the hollow. “It’s swallowed your camp, I see.”

“Is that a gift?” Jackdaw’s Cry reached forward tentatively and poked the lizard.

“I caught it earlier,” River Ripple explained. “But I’d just eaten a couple of minnows. I thought I’d save the lizard for later.” His belly rumbled. “I guess it’s later now. Do you want some?”

“No thanks.” Thunder wrinkled his nose. He couldn’t imagine chewing through the gristly skin of such an ugly-looking creature. He didn’t even want to guess what it tasted like.

River Ripple settled onto his belly and grabbed the lizard between his forepaws. “It’s quiet up here.” He nibbled one of the lizard’s webbed feet.

Thunder looked away. “How can you eat that?”

“I eat what I can catch,” River Ripple told him, chewing. “And with Clear Sky hogging all the good prey, I have to make do with what I can find.”

Jackdaw’s Cry flattened his ears. “We’re planning to visit Clear Sky today.”

“Is that why your fur’s pricking?” River Ripple flipped the lizard around and began gnawing at its tail.

Jackdaw’s Cry shook out his pelt. “It’s just damp, that’s all,” he grunted.

River Ripple stared up at him, still chewing. “What are you going to see him for?”

Thunder lifted his chin. “We will tell him that he can’t keep claiming more territory.”

“Really?” River Ripple ripped off the lizard’s hind leg, chewed for a moment, then swallowed. “Good luck with that.” He hooked the lizard carcass with a claw and held it out. “Are you sure you don’t want a bite?”

Thunder backed away.

Jackdaw’s Cry dipped his head. “Thanks, but no.”

River Ripple got to his paws. “Then I’ll use the scraps to see if I can attract something bigger.”

Thunder narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

River Ripple looked over his shoulder into the mist. “Small prey attracts big prey,” he meowed absently. “You just have to lay it down and wait to see what comes sniffing.”

Jackdaw’s Cry huffed. “That might work with fish, but on the moor you need to be careful what you attract.” He glanced up, as though scanning the sky for buzzards.

“I guess.” River Ripple began to amble away. “Take care in the forest. If you manage to get Clear Sky to stop claiming every piece of land as his own, let me know.” As he disappeared into the fog, his voice echoed back. “Though I don’t expect I’ll be hearing from you.”

Thunder glanced nervously at Jackdaw’s Cry. “Do you think we’re wasting our time with this expedition?”

Jackdaw’s Cry shifted his paws. “Take no notice of River Ripple. He’s been living on his island too long. He’s turned fish-brained.”

“Where are the others?” Thunder couldn’t banish the queasy feeling in his belly. “I thought Shattered Ice was coming with us.”

“So did I.”

“And where’s Gray Wing?” Thunder’s tail twitched nervously. “He’s supposed to be leading the party.”

“I’m here.” Gray Wing’s mew sounded from behind. Paws ruffled grass as he padded out of camp. He stopped beside them. “I told the others not to come.”

“Not to come?” Jackdaw’s Cry blinked. “Have you changed your mind about talking to Clear Sky?”

“No.” Gray Wing’s gaze shone gravely through the mist. “I want you two to go alone.”

“Just us?” Jackdaw’s Cry stiffened. “But it was your idea.”

“You’re his brother.” Thunder stared at Gray Wing. “He’ll listen to you.”

“Maybe later.” Gray Wing’s mew was low. “But the blood between us has soured. I’m not sure he wants me walking into his camp. It might just make him angry.” He met Thunder’s gaze. “You’re his son. That’s the strongest blood tie of all.”

Thunder blinked. “We quarreled too, remember? I left.”

Gray Wing meowed. “I think you still have a better chance than I do. Clear Sky and I parted ways moons ago. His bond with you remains fresh.”

Thunder’s queasiness deepened. What had changed Gray Wing’s mind? He glanced sideways at the black tom. “Why send Jackdaw’s Cry?” If Thunder was going into hostile territory, he didn’t want to rely on a cat who wished he’d never come to live on the moor.

“To protect you.” Gray Wing’s gaze hardened. “Jackdaw’s Cry fought by your side during the fire. I watched you work together. You make a good team. You’re strong and brave and Jackdaw’s Cry is fast and smart. Plus, he has kin in Clear Sky’s camp. Falling Feather’s his sister, remember? If you both have kin there, you might be safer.”

Jackdaw’s Cry circled Gray Wing. “What do you want us to say to Clear Sky?”

“Tell him I want to meet him at the four trees in a few days’ time and discuss territory.”

“Why not just meet him now?” Thunder argued. “You can get it over with.”

“If he’s given time to prepare, he won’t see it as an attack. And the four trees belong to no one. We’ll be talking on neutral ground.”

Jackdaw’s Cry dipped his head. “That sounds fair.”

Gray Wing’s eyes darkened. “Be careful,” he warned. “Once you’ve crossed the border, if it looks too dangerous, turn back and come home. We can find another way to send this message.”

Thunder lifted his chin. “We’ll be okay.” He wasn’t going to let Gray Wing down.

The mist behind Gray Wing swirled as Turtle Tail padded out of the camp. “Have they agreed?” Was that disapproval sharpening her gaze? Did she disagree with Gray Wing’s plan?

Gray Wing’s gaze fixed on Thunder and Jackdaw’s Cry. “Have you?”

“Yes.” Thunder answered first.

Jackdaw’s Cry nodded. His gaze flicked to Turtle Tail. “We’ll be back before the sun’s burned away the mist.”

Turtle Tail didn’t answer.

“Come on.” Thunder turned and bounded toward the forest. He was running blind, using memory to follow the trail toward the moor’s edge. He ignored the foreboding gnawing in his belly.

Don’t be dumb. He won’t hurt you. He’s your father.

Jackdaw’s Cry caught up to him. “I can smell your fear-scent.”

Thunder bristled. “So?”

“You’re right to be scared.” The black tom fell in step. “Clear Sky has killed at least one cat, maybe two.”

“I can handle him.” Thunder hoped it was true.

“If there’s sign of trouble, we’re backing off, okay?” Jackdaw’s Cry turned his head and stared at Thunder. There was no fear in the tom’s gaze, only determination.

“Okay.”

The moor began to slope downward, steepening until they emerged from the fog. Thunder blinked, surprised by the sudden light. Behind, mist still hid the moor. Ahead, it swallowed the treetops, but the undergrowth was clear and he could see deep into the shadows of the forest.

His nose twitched as he picked up a border scent. He slowed to a halt. It was his own scent, left only a few days ago as he’d marked out this border with Clear Sky. How strange to be an intruder now.

Jackdaw’s Cry stopped beside him, his tongue showing as he tasted the air. A thick swath of ferns edged the trees. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Thunder murmured. He felt suddenly exposed. Why had Gray Wing sent them alone? Small prey attracts big prey. River Ripple’s words echoed in his mind.

“Come on, then.” Jackdaw’s Cry strode across the boundary line, tail flicking.

Thunder scanned the ferns for movement as he followed Jackdaw’s Cry. Anger growled in his belly. Why couldn’t they walk where they pleased without fear? Clear Sky had ruined everything with his fox-hearted boundaries.

The forest floor rose toward a familiar strip of bracken. An old rabbit trail cut through it. He knew it well. It led straight to the camp. “Follow me.” He slid past Jackdaw’s Cry and headed up the slope.

A hiss pierced his ear fur.

He halted, hackles lifting.

Yellow fur flashed from behind a tree.

“What are you doing here?” Petal faced him, lips drawn back.

Thunder flinched, shocked by her hostility. A few days ago, he’d watched her playing tail-chase with Alder and Birch, as gentle and loving as any mother. Now she looked as vicious as a cornered rogue. “Petal?” He spoke gently. She couldn’t have forgotten they’d been denmates. “How are the kits?”

She spat, every hair bristling. “What’s that to do with you? Why are you on Clear Sky’s land?”

“Jackdaw’s Cry!” A happy mew sounded from the bracken. Falling Feather burst out. “Relax, Petal. It’s my brother!” She raced down the slope and stopped, her eyes shining.

“Falling Feather!” Jackdaw’s Cry stepped forward.

A growl rumbled in Petal’s throat.

Falling Feather stiffened, guilt clouding her gaze. She backed away from her brother, ducking behind Petal. “This isn’t your land,” she murmured stiffly. “You have to leave.”

Jackdaw’s Cry objected. “But I haven’t seen you for—”

Petal cut him off. “Falling Feather doesn’t belong with you anymore,” she snarled.

“She’s still my littermate!”

Littermate. Thunder felt a pang of grief for Jackdaw’s Cry. Longing echoed deep within him. He blinked, surprised at the pain.

“Falling Feather chose to live in the forest with Clear Sky,” Petal growled. “Which means you live on opposite sides of the border. You shouldn’t be here.”

Thunder hissed. “I’ve come to speak to my father.” He dug his claws into the earth. “We may have borders now, but he can’t forget that we come from the same place and share the same ancestors.”

Petal padded closer, eyes slitted. “We don’t all come from the same place.” She circled Thunder, looking him up and down menacingly.

He unsheathed the tips of his claws. If she wanted a fight, he was ready.

Petal went on. “I’ve lived here my whole life, just like your mother. Clear Sky and these two might come from the mountains”—she scowled at Falling Feather and Jackdaw’s Cry—“but they chose different leaders. The only things we have in common with one another now are the boundaries Clear Sky set for us.”

“That’s no reason we can’t live in peace,” Thunder pressed. “All cats have the same needs and the same instincts.”

“Peace?” Petal snorted. “Ever since I was a kit, I’ve seen nothing but fights. Boundaries will put an end to that.”

“Which is why we must speak to Clear Sky,” Thunder put in quickly. “We want to make sure that his boundaries bring peace, not conflict.”

Falling Feather lifted her tail. “I’ll take you to him.” She ignored Petal’s growl. “But I can’t promise he’ll be pleased to see you.”

Thunder snorted. I can’t promise I’ll be pleased to see him. “Let me worry about that,” he told her. “Just take us to the camp.” He knew he’d never forgive his father for the cruelty he’d shown. He glared at Petal. “Do you want to fight first or can we go?” Unsheathing his claws, an image flashed in his mind—him sinking them into her neck. He pushed it away as Petal backed off, her eyes glittering with unease. Am I as vicious as my father? His chest tightened.

“Follow me.” Falling Feather ducked along the rabbit trail.

Jackdaw’s Cry followed, Thunder falling in behind. He felt Petal’s breath at his heels and heard the bracken swish against her pelt.

Falling Feather led them along a winding trail past hawthorns and ferns. Thunder could smell his own paws-scents, still faint along the route. His heart pounded harder as he recognized the bramble ahead. The camp lay beyond and, as he followed Jackdaw’s Cry past the prickly stems, he stiffened, his gaze quickly scanning the hollow.

Prey-scent filled his nose. A pile lay at one side of the clearing. Another was heaped beside the roots of the oak. A few half-eaten carcasses were scattered along the bottom of the steep slope below the hawthorn, flies buzzing over them. Leaf, the black-and-white tom, lay dozing beside the yew. Fircone and Nettle groomed each other in the clearing. A skinny brown tom sat beside the brambles, his head bowed close to a sleek gray she-cat. They’re new. Thunder tasted the air, gathering their scent. They both had the notched ears of seasoned fighters. Was Clear Sky recruiting more cats?

Movement above caught his eye.

He jerked up his head.

Clear Sky was watching him from a low oak branch, which hung across the clearing. His tail drooped over the side, its tip twitching as he glowered at Thunder. His gaze slid to Jackdaw’s Cry, narrowing, then flicked back. “I thought I’d seen the last of you, son.”