The Sun Trail

Chapter 25

Gray Wing swung around urgently to face Clear Sky. “Go after her!” he pleaded. “Bring her back and help her raise your kits. She needs you!”

Clear Sky didn’t move, though there was sadness in his eyes as he watched Storm leave. “It’s no use,” he mewed. “I must put my community of cats first. If Storm can’t accept my decisions, then we can’t be together.”

“But don’t you love her?” Gray Wing protested.

“Of course I do. But she made her choice, and my future lies here.”

The anger in Clear Sky’s voice and expression had faded, replaced by an icy determination. Gray Wing realized that nothing was going to make him change his mind.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” Gray Wing meowed. “And I’m sorry about Fox. I didn’t mean to… but he attacked me first.”

“He was doing his duty.” Clear Sky turned to go, then glanced back. “How is Jagged Peak?”

Gray Wing felt a tiny spark of hope. “He is doing fine,” he replied. “Cloud Spots has worked out some exercises to strengthen his good legs. Jagged Peak complains all the time, but he does them.” Feeling slightly daring, he added, “Why don’t you come and visit him?”

For a heartbeat Clear Sky hesitated. Then he shook his head. “What’s past is past,” he mewed. “I can’t look back. I have responsibilities now, cats to protect, and that means I have to let Storm and Jagged Peak go.”

Gray Wing was disturbed by the intensity in Clear Sky’s blue eyes as he spoke. He sighed, accepting that Clear Sky had set his paws on this path, and nothing would make him turn back. “If you change your mind, you’re always welcome,” he told Clear Sky.

Though I wonder if that’s true, he added silently to himself. Would Tall Shadow welcome him into our camp? Would Jagged Peak?

Dipping his head to Clear Sky, he turned and headed back toward the moor.

The cold season clamped its claws onto the moor, freezing the streams and pools and turning the grass to thorns of ice. Hawk Swoop was huge with kits, and Gray Wing spent a morning helping Jackdaw’s Cry dig out a new, bigger den in the tunnels so that she would be sheltered from the cold winds when she gave birth.

“This is wonderful!” she sighed as she flopped down in the nest of moss and bracken the toms had prepared for her. “Now I can’t wait for the kits to be here.”

Gray Wing left her with Jackdaw’s Cry and went out into the open, feeling a cold breeze ruffle his fur. Seeing Hawk Swoop so close to kitting reminded him of Storm. She must have had her kits by now, he thought. It’s been a moon since she went back to the Twolegplace. I hope she’s okay. As soon as he had formed the words, he knew what he had to do.

He had to go and look for Storm.

The race across the moor warmed Gray Wing and left his heart pounding. When he reached the forest he chose a path that took him around Clear Sky’s camp in a wide circle. I’ve got to avoid trouble today. I’ve more important things to do than arguing with Clear Sky and his cats.

Gray Wing’s paws slowed as he reached the outskirts of the Twolegplace, but he made himself carry on. As he moved cautiously along the hard stone paths, he looked for landmarks that would take him to the den where Turtle Tail and Bumble lived.

They might know where Storm is staying now. And it will be good to see Turtle Tail again.

At first Gray Wing made good progress. He remembered a big den with a strong reek of monsters and rows of thick, weirdly colored tree trunks standing outside, and an open space with a stretch of grass and bushes and Twoleg kits running here and there and yowling.

But as Gray Wing turned the corner beside the open space, he heard a sudden flurry of barking. Whipping around, he saw a small black dog hurtling toward him.

Fear slammed into Gray Wing. He raced down the path with the dog hard on his paws. At the next corner, he knew he should cross the Thunderpath, but monsters were growling past in both directions, and if he stopped to wait for them the dog would catch him. Gray Wing rounded the corner and pelted on.

Moments later he knew that he was lost. Twoleg fences and dens passed him in a blur as he fled from the dog. Though he didn’t dare to pause and look back, he could hear its barking close behind him, and smell its rank scent.

Then Gray Wing darted around another corner and halted in dismay. The end of the path was closed off by a huge Twoleg den. There was no way out; it was as though he was trapped in a tunnel, with the dog at its mouth. With nothing else to do, he turned, bracing himself to fight.

The dog was bounding down the path toward him, its jaws gaping. But before it reached him, Gray Wing heard a voice above his head.

“Gray Wing! Up here!”

Gray Wing’s eyes widened in shock as he looked up and saw Turtle Tail, balancing on a ledge beneath a hole in the side of the Twoleg den. He bunched his muscles, and as the dog bore down on him he leaped. Turtle Tail leaned over, grabbing his scruff to help him scramble onto the ledge beside her.

“Thanks!” Gray Wing gasped.

The dog stood just underneath, yapping in annoyance.

“Shove off, flea-pelt,” Turtle Tail meowed, then added to Gray Wing, “This way.”

Jumping from the ledge to the top of a wall, Turtle Tail led the way past several Twoleg dens until the wall came to an end and she had to leap down onto a stretch of smooth grass.

“It’s such a surprise to see you!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining as Gray Wing jumped down beside her. “It’s so great that you came to visit me and Bumble.”

Gray Wing gave his shoulder an embarrassed lick. “Actually, I’m looking for Storm,” he admitted.

Though Turtle Tail didn’t move, the light died from her eyes. “Oh,” she mewed flatly.

“I know she came back to the Twolegplace,” Gray Wing continued, aware that somehow he was saying the wrong thing, but needing to discover anything Turtle Tail could tell him. “Have you seen her? Do you know where she’s living now?”

Turtle Tail seemed reluctant to answer, scuffling the grass with her paws. “I’m not sure—”

“Of course we know!” A new voice joined in, and Gray Wing looked up to see Bumble sitting on the fence at the opposite side of the stretch of grass. The plump tortoiseshell plopped down and padded over to join them. “Don’t you remember, Turtle Tail? Storm went to live in that old monster den.”

“Oh… yes,” Turtle Tail muttered.

Gray Wing was pretty sure she had known all the time. “Thanks, Bumble,” he meowed. “Can you show me the way?”

Bumble hesitated for a moment. “I won’t go in with you. That place gives me the creeps.”

Gray Wing glanced at Turtle Tail, wondering if she would come too. But she simply mewed, “I’ll see you later,” and streaked across the grass to the fence, leaping over it and vanishing.

Sad and confused, Gray Wing followed Bumble back along the wall, then down beside a Thunderpath with monsters passing by so close together that he almost despaired of getting across. The noise beat at his ears and he felt the stink soaking into his fur.

Finally a gap opened up; Bumble yowled, “Now!” and they darted across side by side. Another monster roared by as they reached the other side; the wind of its passing ruffled their fur.

“That only missed us by a paw-length!” Gray Wing exclaimed.

Bumble led him past Twoleg dens with huge holes in their sides, covered by shiny transparent stuff that showed glaring lights and bright colors within. Crowds of Twolegs were walking to and fro; Bumble and Gray Wing had to slip along close to the wall to avoid their clumping paws.

“I don’t know how you can stand living here!” Gray Wing exclaimed.

Bumble glanced back at him. “Well, I don’t know how you can stand living out in the open, getting cold and wet the whole time. We both get used to it, I guess.”

Eventually Bumble led Gray Wing around another corner. A vast red stone den stood in front of them. Empty holes gaped in its side, and a huge entrance yawned like an open mouth.

Bumble flicked her tail. “There you go. I’ll wait for you and show you the way back.”

Gray Wing’s eyes widened in shock. “Storm lives in there?”

Bumble nodded. “There aren’t many places to stay around here, if you don’t live with a Twoleg.”

Horrified, forcing back panic, Gray Wing padded up to the entrance and went inside. The only light came from the holes in the walls. A vast stretch of stone lay in front of him, broken at intervals by stone trees that held up the roof. A foul reek washed over him from Twoleg debris scattered here and there, and beneath it he picked up the stale scent of monsters.

“Storm! Storm!” he yowled.

There was no reply. Gray Wing padded forward, glancing from side to side; there was nowhere here where Storm could be hiding.

A few tail-lengths away, a stone slope led upward. Gray Wing bounded to the top, then emerged more cautiously onto the next level. He saw the same thing: dark desolation, more rubbish, more stone trees, and no sign of Storm. A damp, chilly draft ruffled his fur, and he could hear the distant drip of water.

Up and up Gray Wing climbed, until he guessed he was almost at the top of the den. Still he couldn’t find Storm, and she didn’t reply when he called out to her. Was Bumble wrong? Maybe Storm doesn’t live here.

Hesitantly approaching one of the gaps in the wall, Gray Wing saw how far he had climbed. He almost felt as if he was back in the mountains, looking out from a high peak. The Twolegplace was spread out below him, monsters creeping along like shiny beetles. Beyond the Twolegplace was the mass of the forest, mostly gray-brown now that the leaves had fallen, with patches of dark green here and there where pines grew. Beyond the forest Gray Wing could just make out the swelling line of the moor, and he longed for the clean air and the vast stretches of grass where he could run and run.

A faint paw step behind him made Gray Wing spin around. “Storm!” he exclaimed.

The silver tabby she-cat stood a couple of tail-lengths away from him. Gray Wing’s heart swelled as he looked at her. She had clearly given birth; she was thin, her sides sunken and her fur filthy and matted. But her green eyes were still as brilliant and beautiful as ever.

“Storm,” Gray Wing repeated, taking a pace toward her. “You’ve had your kits—are they okay?”

Storm nodded. “Three of them… and yes, they’re fine.”

“Where are they?” Gray Wing asked, glancing around. “May I see them?”

The silver-gray tabby hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “Better not.”

Disappointment gathered over Gray Wing like a dark cloud. “But they’re my family too. Please, Storm. You know I would never hurt them.”

Storm shook her head again, more decisively this time. “These are my kits,” she meowed.

Frustrated, Gray Wing wondered what he could do to change her mind. Clearly she had decided to cut him and Clear Sky—and all that she had experienced with them—out of her life.

But is that the best choice? Why doesn’t she want help from any cat to look after them?

Gray Wing wanted to ask those questions, but in the face of Storm’s proud, challenging gaze, the words wouldn’t come. Dipping his head in acceptance, he murmured, “Good-bye, Storm. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Then he turned away and padded down, down through the bleak levels of the monster den, until he was out in the open, where Bumble was waiting.