The Sun Trail

Chapter 11

For a moment every cat was silent with shock. Moon Shadow was the first to speak. “Suits me,” he meowed, swiping his tongue around his jaws.

“Yes, it’s warm and dry in here,” Quick Water agreed.

“And there’s no smell of dogs,” Shattered Ice added. His nose twitched. “There’s a different sort of scent, but I don’t recognize it. Still, if it’s not dogs or eagles, it can’t be dangerous.”

Shaded Moss was looking thoughtful. “It could work,” he said at last. “And we’re close enough to the mountains to go back and visit the others now and then.”

Excited murmurs rose from the group of cats, and they glanced at one another with shining eyes.

“We can make nests in this dried grass,” Falling Feather mewed. “It would be a great place for bringing up kits.”

Gray Wing didn’t join in the plans. He couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed. There’s nothing wrong with this place, he thought. But I imagined finding our new home would feel more right.

He looked around, trying to picture himself and his Tribemates living here. His legs felt restless at the thought of being trapped within the wooden walls. They were not as natural as the walls of a cave. Besides, he would have liked to know what the strange scent was.

But if it’s right for the others, shouldn’t I be happy to stay? he asked himself guiltily.

“What do you think?” he asked Turtle Tail, who was sitting beside him. “Is this the place we’ve been looking for?”

The tortoiseshell she-cat looked surprised. “I’m pretty sure it is,” she replied. “Aren’t you?”

Gray Wing shook his head.

“Everything beyond the mountains is going to feel strange,” Turtle Tail pointed out. “It’s just a case of getting used to a different way of living.”

Gray Wing suppressed a sigh. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted, curling up next to her to sleep.

Before he closed his eyes, Gray Wing spotted Clear Sky sitting on the hard earth floor, staring into the shadows. His brother was illuminated by a shaft of moonlight that shone through a gap in the wall, turning his light gray pelt to silver. He looked so alone that Gray Wing’s heart ached for him.

If only Bright Stream were still here.

The cats burrowed into the warm, dry grass to make nests, and fell into a deep, sound sleep. They felt so safe that no cat suggested setting a watch.

An unfamiliar noise aroused Gray Wing. His eyes blinked open and he saw gray dawn light seeping through the gaps in the shelter wall. Outside he could hear a trampling noise, and knew that was what had awoken him.

Springing to his paws, Gray Wing turned to face the shelter entrance. Outside in the dimness he could see a pale, moving mass converging on the shelter. The trampling grew louder.

“Wake up!” he screeched, hurling himself at one cat after another and swiping his paws across their ears to make them wake. “Run!”

Glancing back at the entrance he realized that the pale mass had drawn closer; now he could see that it was made up of sheep—more sheep than he had ever seen before, and all of them heading for the shelter. Their trampling and bleating seemed to fill the whole world and their scent—the strange scent they had picked up before—flooded over him.

“We can’t get out!” Falling Feather yowled. “They’ll crush us!”

Already the first sheep were trotting into the shelter, pushing one another to get through the entrance. There was no way past them that could avoid their sharp, cruel paws.

“Over here!” Rainswept Flower gasped.

Darting after her across the tumbled heaps of grass, Gray Wing saw a tiny gap at the bottom of the shelter’s wooden wall. One by one the cats squeezed through, as the shelter filled with the noisy, restless sheep.

Waiting for his turn, Gray Wing heard a shriek of pain and saw Hawk Swoop fall to the ground while a sheep trampled over her. He leaped forward but Clear Sky was faster, grabbing her by the scruff and dragging her toward the gap. He shoved her through and followed; Gray Wing was right behind him, with Shaded Moss at his tail.

“Are we all here?” Shaded Moss asked, after they had all struggled out into the open.

Gray Wing checked, and saw to his relief that no cat had been left behind. They all seemed uninjured, too, except for Hawk Swoop, who was standing with one of her forelegs at a very strange angle.

“Can you walk?” Shaded Moss asked her.

“I’ll try,” Hawk Swoop replied, her breath hissing through her teeth. She limped a few paces, clearly in a lot of pain.

“I don’t think you can,” Gray Wing meowed. He spotted a clump of long grass and nettles beside the wooden wall, and let Hawk Swoop lean on his shoulder until she could collapse there out of the chill dawn wind.

Gray Wing beckoned Dappled Pelt with his tail. “You know the most about herbs,” he meowed. “What should we do for her?”

Dappled Pelt looked confused. “Daisy leaves, or elder,” she replied at last. “But I don’t know if they grow around here. Jackdaw’s Cry, Falling Feather, can you go and look for some?”

As the two young cats bounded off, Cloud Spots padded up to Hawk Swoop and examined her carefully; she drew in her breath with a gasp of pain as he prodded her injured leg.

“I’ve seen injuries like this before,” Cloud Spots mewed. “Her leg has come out of joint at the shoulder.”

“Then she’ll be stuck like that?” Quick Water sounded horrified.

“No, not at all,” Cloud Spots responded. “I once watched Quiet Rain treat one of the elders for this after they slipped off a rock. Herbs will only help the pain, not the injury.”

Hawk Swoop gasped in agony as Cloud Spots set his paws on her neck and shoulder. “This will hurt,” Cloud Spots told her, “but it will soon be over.” Flicking his ears at Gray Wing, he added, “Come here and hold her. Put your paws there… and there… and keep her absolutely still when I give the order.”

Gray Wing placed his paws where Cloud Spots had indicated. “I’m ready.”

“Good. Now!”

Cloud Spots yanked hard at Hawk Swoop’s leg; Gray Wing was nearly rocked off his paws by the force of it. Hawk Swoop let out a shriek. Then Cloud Spots stepped back and Gray Wing saw that the she-cat’s leg was back in position. She lay trembling, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

“Can you move your leg? Does it still hurt?” Cloud Spots asked.

Hawk Swoop flexed her leg. “It only aches a bit,” she meowed. “Oh, thank you, Cloud Spots!”

“Well done.” Shaded Moss touched Cloud Spots’s shoulder with his tail.

Cloud Spots shrugged. “It’s just lucky I saw what Quiet Rain did.”

At that moment Jackdaw’s Cry and Falling Feather returned, their mouths full of herbs. “Are these the right ones?” Falling Feather asked, dropping her bundle in front of Dappled Pelt.

Dappled Pelt sorted through the leaves. “Do you think these are okay?” she asked Cloud Spots.

Cloud Spots carefully picked out a couple of leaves with his claws. “These look like the ones we have in the mountains,” he mewed, giving them to Hawk Swoop. “Chew them well and swallow them to help the pain,” he told her.

While Hawk Swoop was eating the herbs Shaded Moss padded up to her. “You need to rest. We’ll stay here for the day.”

Gray Wing heard a few murmurs of discontent from his Tribemates.

“I’m freezing!” Quick Water complained. “We’re all getting soaked out here.”

She was right; the chilly breeze carried a sharp, stinging rain. But there wasn’t anything they could do about it, and Shaded Moss gave Quick Water a stern look. “You can go back into the shelter with the sheep if you like,” he mewed.

Quick Water scuffled her forepaws on the ground, looking embarrassed. “I suppose out here isn’t so bad.”

“We could hunt,” Clear Sky suggested, though he didn’t sound enthusiastic.

“Our bellies are still full,” Tall Shadow pointed out. “There’s no sense in catching prey we can’t eat.”

Moon Shadow nodded, letting out a groan. “I don’t think I’ll be able to face another mouse!”

In the end, all the cats settled down among the long grass and nettles and fell into a doze. When Gray Wing awoke, the sky was still covered in clouds, and a thin drizzle was falling, though the wind had dropped. He guessed it was just after sunhigh.

As he rose to his paws and stretched, Gray Wing noticed that Clear Sky was walking away from the den.

“Are you going somewhere?” Gray Wing asked, running to catch up. “Is everything okay?”

Clear Sky gave him a long look. “I just wanted to stretch my legs,” he replied. “I’m fine on my own, thanks.”

Gray Wing watched Clear Sky pad away, feeling as if he had been struck in the belly. I’d rather he raged at me for letting Bright Stream die, he thought. The cold politeness was far worse to bear, because it made him feel like a stranger to his own brother.

His tail drooping, Gray Wing padded back to the long grass.

Turtle Tail was waiting for him. “Let him grieve,” she whispered, brushing her tail along Gray Wing’s flank. “Everything will be all right in the end.”

Gray Wing wished he could believe her.

In the days that followed, Gray Wing began to believe that their encounter with the sheep had been a sign that the next stage of their journey was going to be even more difficult. The rain never stopped, and their only guide was a few glimpses of the sharp stones now and then through the mist.

How can we find our new home if we can’t see the sun trail? Gray Wing wondered.

Prey grew scarcer, the small animals and birds sheltering from the rain. Hawk Swoop quickly recovered, but as the cats crossed a barrier between two stretches of grass, Tall Shadow scratched one of her pads on a sharp, shiny tendril hidden among the stems.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, even though she was limping badly.

Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots foraged for herbs, but Dappled Pelt looked doubtfully at everything they found. “I don’t want to give any cat something that will make them sick,” she meowed. “I’ve never seen most of these leaves before.”

As the days went by, even Jagged Peak lost his liveliness. Gray Wing could understand: He was the youngest and smallest, with the shortest legs, and yet he had to keep up with the others.

“I’m fed up with this rain,” he complained as he trudged through wet grass that soaked his pelt. “And I’m hungry!”

“We’ll find prey when we get where we’re going.” Falling Feather comforted him.

“We don’t know where we’re going,” Jagged Peak whined.

“Then maybe you should have stayed at home where you belonged,” Clear Sky snapped brusquely.

Jagged Peak flinched at his brother’s rebuke, looking so miserable that Gray Wing had to sympathize. “Every cat is grumpy,” he whispered to Jagged Peak, brushing against his side reassuringly.

A stretch of woodland loomed up in front of the cats, and as they entered it Jagged Peak went on muttering. As he walked with Gray Wing at the back of the group, he began twitching his ears or his tail and stopping to glance around.

“Why are you fidgeting?” Gray Wing asked irritably.

“I think we’re being watched,” Jagged Peak replied.

Gray Wing suppressed a sharp response. “It’s probably a piece of prey that doesn’t want to be caught,” he suggested.

Jagged Peak flicked his tail, but said nothing. A few paw steps later he stopped dead. “What was that?” he asked, his ears quivering.

“A falling twig!” Gray Wing answered, flicking his tail in exasperation. “Now come on! We’re lagging behind the others.”

Jagged Peak stayed as still as if his paws were rooted to the ground. His eyes narrowed and his face screwed up in a mutinous expression. “We’re being followed,” he meowed.

“No, we’re not!” Gray Wing looked around, determined to prove that his brother was wrong. “Oh…” he added, feeling stupid, as a long-legged brown-and-gray tabby stepped out of the clump of bracken they had just passed.

“See?” Jagged Peak snapped.

Gray Wing and the stranger stared at each other for a moment.

“You’re not from these parts, are you?” the stranger asked eventually.

“No,” Jagged Peak piped up, stepping forward to examine the stranger, round-eyed. “We come from far away! From the mountains!”

The stranger looked surprised. “You mean Highstones?” He nodded in the direction of the sharp peaks the cats were heading for, though they weren’t visible through the trees.

“No,” Gray Wing replied. “We—”

He broke off as the other cats reappeared, with Clear Sky in the lead. “What’s going on?” Clear Sky asked.

“Wow, there are a lot of you,” the stranger mewed, though he didn’t seem daunted by their numbers.

“We’re just travelers, passing through,” Shaded Moss told him.

“Oh,” the stranger responded, “I thought you were the cats who live on the other side of Highstones.”

“That’s those pointed stones up ahead,” Gray Wing explained.

“Are there cats who live there already?” Cloud Spots asked, shouldering his way forward.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” the stranger replied, “though I’ve never been that far myself. I’ve heard tales about how fierce they are.”

“Are they… ‘rogues’?” Gray Wing asked, remembering what the kittypet in the Twolegplace had said.

The stranger gave a snort of amusement. “‘Rogues’ are what kittypets call us, the soft saps.” His gaze traveled curiously over the group of cats, and he added, “What are you all doing here? That kit there said you’ve come a long way.”

“We needed a new home,” Shaded Moss said shortly, casting a distrustful gaze at the stranger.

The tabby tom dipped his head and didn’t ask more questions. “Well, best of luck to you,” he meowed, and slid away into the bracken.

“So there’s another group of cats living near those pointed stones!” Jackdaw’s Cry mewed excitedly.

“Highstones,” Jagged Peak corrected.

Falling Feather sniffed. “They’re not that high.”

“I think it’s a good sign if there are other cats living near here.” Rainswept Flower blinked thoughtfully. “Cats like us, I mean. Not kittypets.”

“Yes, it means there’s space and prey,” Dappled Pelt agreed. “We won’t be disturbed by Twolegs, or monsters or dogs.”

“Maybe.” Clear Sky looked less certain. “But we want to find a place of our own, where there’s all the prey we need.”

Shaded Moss nodded. “Suppose the other cats are hostile?”

“The cat we just met didn’t seem hostile,” Turtle Tail pointed out.

Clear Sky snorted. “He was heavily outnumbered!”

Turtle Tail only shrugged.

In spite of Shaded Moss’s and Clear Sky’s suspicions, the cats’ mood was lighter as they padded on through the woods. Though the rain persisted, the branches held off the worst of it.

Gray Wing spotted movement at the corner of his eye and turned to see a squirrel halfway up the trunk of a nearby tree. Clear Sky was closer to it, and pushed off into a spectacular leap, crashing down again with the squirrel in his claws.

“That was awesome!” Jackdaw’s Cry exclaimed.

Since they had stopped, Shaded Moss suggested that they take some time to rest and hunt. Moon Shadow and Shattered Ice vanished immediately into the trees.

“Don’t go too far!” Shaded Moss called after them. “Stay out of trouble!”

Gray Wing opened his jaws to taste the air, and picked up the scent of mouse. He tried to follow it, finding it hard when there were so many cross trails of competing scents, and finally lost it altogether in a clump of ferns.

How can I catch prey I can’t see?

Meanwhile, Dappled Pelt had padded on a few paw steps, with her head tilted to listen. Then she meowed, “Look what I’ve found!”

Gray Wing trotted up to her and saw water gurgling from between two mossy stones, then falling in a tiny waterfall into a pool. A shallow stream led away from it into the trees.

Dappled Pelt crouched at the water’s edge, swiping her tongue around her jaws. “Fish!”

Falling Feather watched as Dappled Pelt flashed one paw into the stream and flicked a tiny fish onto the bank. A few heartbeats later she did it again, catching a bigger fish this time.

Falling Feather let out an admiring purr. “You said you’d teach me how to do it. Can I try now?”

“Sure,” Dappled Pelt replied. “Come and sit here. Make sure your shadow doesn’t fall on the water, because that frightens the fish. Then, when you see one, you have to be quick.”

“Okay, let me try.” Falling Feather gazed intently into the water, but when she dipped her paw all she brought up was flying droplets. “Haredung!” she muttered. “It looks so easy when you do it!”

Rainswept Flower had also ambled up to watch. “Okay,” she mused after a moment. “So I was wrong about the wooden den, but do you think this might be a place where we could live?”

Still annoyed about losing the mouse, Gray Wing hoped that she was wrong again. Among the trees, he felt trapped—as if the air was too thick to breathe properly. He longed for the open spaces they had left behind.

“No,” Shaded Moss replied to his daughter. “We must climb to the top of Highstones. Those peaks are the end of the sun trail Stoneteller promised us. We have to go there before we make any decisions about where to stay.”

Rainswept Flower nodded, accepting what her father said, while Gray Wing heaved a huge sigh of relief.

Moon Shadow and Shattered Ice returned with prey. After he had eaten his fill, Gray Wing lay on a rock and watched Dappled Pelt giving Falling Feather another fishing lesson. The two she-cats were obviously having fun. Even when Falling Feather leaned over too far and toppled into the stream with a massive splash, she came up quivering with amusement.

“It’s easier to be a fish than to catch one,” she spluttered as she emerged and gave her pelt a shake, scattering shining droplets into the air.

“Watch it!” Quick Water snapped, leaping out of the way. “Some of us don’t want to be fish, thanks very much!”

As he gazed at the she-cats, Gray Wing began to feel the earth trembling under his paws. At the same moment the air filled with the sound of barking.

“Dogs!” he yowled.

Shaded Moss jumped to his paws. “This way!” he ordered.

Three dogs crashed through the undergrowth. They were different sizes and colors. Frozen, Gray Wing could smell their stinking breath, and feel the heat from their fur.

“Come on!” Turtle Tail barreled into him, jolting him forward. “Move!”

Terrified, the cats floundered through the undergrowth. Bursting out of the trees, they raced across an open stretch of grass. Gray Wing glanced over his shoulder and saw the dogs following, covering the ground with long, loping strides.

They’re catching up!

Ahead of the cats was a sharp, shiny barrier covered in thorns.

“Don’t go that way!” Shaded Moss shrieked, swerving across the dogs’ path and hurtling toward the shelter of a line of bushes.

Faster and faster the cats ran. Wind plastered Gray Wing’s pelt to his body, and grass scraped his belly fur. Falling Feather was dropping behind, and he doubled back to give her a shove, half carrying her toward the bushes. He risked a glance aside, and saw that Clear Sky was helping Jagged Peak.

The bushes loomed ahead, bristly and dark and solid-looking. Gray Wing couldn’t see any way through, but there was no time to hesitate. With Falling Feather beside him, he hurled himself in, battling against the densely packed branches, his fur tearing as thorns caught at it. He closed his eyes to protect them from the spines.

As he forced his way out the other side the roar of a monster assaulted his ears, and he was blasted in the face by spray kicked up from its round, black paws. Blinking, he tried to see where he was. Other cats were lurching out of the bushes close by.

“Wait!” Gray Wing shrieked.

But his warning came too late. Shaded Moss plunged out of the bushes, across the narrow strip of grass that edged the Thunderpath, and straight into the path of a roaring monster. Gray Wing heard a sickening thud as Shaded Moss’s body was flung into the air.

The monster growled on, leaving nothing behind but a terrible, deafening silence.