The Sun Trail

Chapter 4

Gray Wing stood on top of the rocks in the pale dawn light, his fur buffeted by the wind. All the cats, even the kits, were gathered around Stoneteller, who stood on a boulder near the waterfall. Those leaving with Shaded Moss stood close together. Gray Wing watched them flexing their paws impatiently, exchanging excited, apprehensive glances.

As they waited for Stoneteller to speak, Clear Sky broke from Shaded Moss’s group to pad over to where Gray Wing stood beside their mother and brother.

“Good-bye,” he murmured, brushing his muzzle against Quiet Rain’s shoulder and then Gray Wing’s, before stooping to touch Jagged Peak’s ear with his nose. “I hope everything will go well for you now. And who knows?” he added, clearly trying to sound cheerful. “One day I might come back and visit.”

Gray Wing exchanged a glance with Quiet Rain, seeing that she knew perfectly well that would never happen.

But neither of them spoke their thought aloud.

“Travel safely, my son,” Quiet Rain mewed.

“Why can’t I come with you?” Jagged Peak broke in loudly.

Quiet Rain silenced him with a glance; the young kit scrabbled sulkily at the loose pebbles beside the river. Quiet Rain’s glance drifted beyond him, to the small pile of stones that covered Fluttering Bird.

“Are you sure you won’t come?” Clear Sky meowed to Gray Wing. “It won’t be the same without you.”

Gray Wing touched his muzzle to Clear Sky’s, and the two brothers twined tails. “I’m sorry you have to do this without me,” Gray Wing responded, loss piercing his heart like an eagle’s talon. “But my place is here, with Quiet Rain and Jagged Peak.”

“I’m glad they have you to care for them,” Clear Sky told him.

He dipped his head one last time and padded back to stand beside Bright Stream. She held her head high, but Gray Wing could see the uncertainty in her eyes.

At last Stoneteller flicked her tail toward Shaded Moss. “Tonight the moon will be full,” she mewed. “It is time for you to leave us. Shaded Moss, do you wish to speak?”

The sturdy black-and-white tom leaped up onto the boulder beside her and glanced around at the assembled cats. “We trust the Teller of the Pointed Stones to know where our future lies,” he began. “We will follow the path to the rising sun, but we will always carry the mountains, and all of you, in our hearts.”

“That won’t stop us missing you,” Misty Water muttered.

Shaded Moss bowed his head in respect to the elder before continuing. “I hope that, with fewer cats to feed, the hunting will become easier.”

As Shaded Moss finished speaking, Stoneteller touched his shoulder with her tail-tip and took a step forward. “I thank you, Shaded Moss, and all departing cats, for your selfless courage. This is the greatest gift that you could give us. We will never forget you.” She took a breath, and focused her bright green gaze on the cats with Shaded Moss. “You’ll meet strange creatures on your journey,” she continued. “Hairless creatures called Twolegs, because they walk on their hind legs. And shiny roaring beasts that seem like monsters, racing along hard black tracks we called Thunderpaths.”

Turtle Tail’s eyes stretched wide and she let out a gasp of dismay. “You mean those are real?” she asked. “I thought they were just elders’ tales.”

Stoneteller shook her head. “They’re real, but they can be avoided. The monsters seem unable to leave the Thunderpaths, but you’ll still need to use all your cunning.” Her voice sounded more anxious now. “Don’t forget that there’ll be new enemies too—not just birds, but foxes and badgers. And did I tell you that there might even be trouble from other cats?”

Shaded Moss dipped his head. “We discussed all this, Stoneteller.”

“Don’t forget,” Cloud Spots put in, “Dappled Pelt and I know a lot about herbs and healing. If things go wrong, we’ll be able to help.”

The old white cat’s whiskers twitched and her shoulder fur began to rise. Gray Wing’s pads tingled with apprehension as he realized that she wasn’t as certain as she had always seemed.

“Trust nothing,” Stoneteller meowed urgently, “but your own instincts.”

Shaded Moss laid his tail reassuringly over Stoneteller’s back. “We will learn as we travel,” he responded gently. “We have trusted you to send us toward the sun; now trust us to travel safely and to find this new place to live.”

Stoneteller let out a long sigh. She slid from the rock and padded over to those who were leaving with Shaded Moss, touching her nose to each cat’s shoulder as she spoke. “Find somewhere that suits all of you,” she mewed. “Tall Shadow, your gift for stalking and guile; Clear Sky, your gift for bringing down birds from the air; Turtle Tail, your speed and sharp eyes; Rainswept Flower, your ability to track far-off prey by scent alone. All of your talents must find the right place to blossom.” She gazed at the cats, her green eyes full of love and grief. “Good luck,” she added at last.

Shaded Moss waved his tail and led his group down the rocks toward the pool below the waterfall.

“Good-bye!” Gray Wing called, his gaze fixed on his brother. “Stay safe!”

“Good riddance is what I say!” Dewy Leaf snarled. “Cowards! They’re just leaving us all to starve.”

“Right,” Twisted Branch agreed. “Well, we don’t need them.”

Gray Wing stood beside Quiet Rain and watched the departing cats as they wound their way down the mountainside until they were out of sight.

The remaining cats stood for a moment in silence, looking at one another. The Tribe seemed so small now, with so few cats left. Gray Wing realized elders and kits now outnumbered the stronger cats. His paws tingled with apprehension, but he crushed it down.

“We can’t stand here all day,” he meowed at last. “Stone Song, Twisted Branch, Dewy Leaf, we should hunt while it’s still light.”

“What?” Dewy Leaf lashed her tail. “Have you forgotten I’m expecting kits?”

You don’t let us forget it, Gray Wing thought, though he stopped himself from speaking the words aloud. “We’re the strongest cats left behind,” he went on quietly. “We must try to catch enough food for every cat.”

Twisted Branch nodded, a look of determination in his amber eyes.

“You’re not Stoneteller. You don’t get to order me around,” Dewy Leaf muttered. She paused for a heartbeat, then shrugged. “Okay, I’ll hunt.”

As Stoneteller began to lead the rest of her Tribe down toward the cave, Sharp Hail and Silver Frost stayed behind. “We’ll hunt too,” Silver Frost announced. “We might not be as young as you, but our claws are still sharp.”

“Right,” Sharp Hail agreed. “We owe it to the cats who have gone not to give up now. We need to find a new way to survive.”

“Thank you,” Gray Wing responded, grateful for the older tom’s wisdom.

Leaving the other cats behind, Gray Wing trekked along the cliff edge, moving away from the river. The mountains seemed even quieter than usual. He paused from time to time, straining his ears for any sign of the traveling cats farther along the valley, and gazed around him in the hope of catching one last glimpse of them. But they had vanished against the snow and rocks.

I’ll never see them again.

A dark shadow passed over Gray Wing’s head and he looked up to see a young hawk skimming the surface of the snow as if it too was searching for prey. As it mounted into the air again Gray Wing flung himself upward, remembering Clear Sky’s favorite move.

His claws snagged one wing; he and the hawk fell to the ground together and rolled over in the snow. Gray Wing felt talons rake through his pelt. With a yowl of mingled pain and fury he sank his claws into the hawk’s breast and brought his teeth together in its throat with a swift snap.

The hawk went limp. Puffing, Gray Wing scrambled to his paws and shook the snow off his pelt. Then he picked up the hawk by the neck and began plodding back to the cave, his prey’s strong, barred wings trailing in the snow.

By the time he reached the path behind the waterfall the other hunting cats were also returning. Stone Song and Silver Frost had each caught a mouse, and Twisted Branch and Dewy Leaf were dragging a snow hare between them.

“We caught it together,” Twisted Branch mumbled through a mouthful of fur. “I chased it, and it doubled back—right into Dewy Leaf’s claws. It was great!”

The other cats gathered around as the hunters dropped their prey on the floor of the cave. Even so, Gray Wing thought that the cavern seemed quiet and empty, with so few cats remaining. Their voices seemed to echo strangely as they shared the prey, taking a mouthful and then exchanging with one another.

“I will hunt tomorrow,” Quiet Rain promised.

“So will I,” Hollow Tree agreed, brushing her tail along the flank of her mate, Stone Song.

“Why don’t we take turns?” Stone Song suggested. “So every cat keeps their hunting skills sharp, and no cat has to go out every day.”

Stoneteller gave the dark gray tabby tom an approving nod. “A very good idea. Stone Song, would you like to arrange it?”

Stone Song’s eyes gleamed at his Healer’s praise. “I’d be glad to.”

Gray Wing glanced at his Tribemates, and caught the same look of determination on all their faces. He felt reassured that the sacrifice of the cats who had left would not be wasted.

We can make this work.

A paw prodding him in the side woke Gray Wing the next morning. He blinked blearily in the light that slanted through the waterfall, and made out Stone Song standing over him.

“Are you okay to hunt?” the tabby tom asked. “I’m arranging the new plan, starting today. Quiet Rain and Hollow Tree are going out, and I’ll go myself. I want to find out if four cats hunting every day are enough.”

“Sure.”

The light from the cave entrance was brighter than Gray Wing had seen it for many days, as if the sun was shining outside. Maybe that’s a good sign, he thought. Better than trying to hunt in a blizzard, anyway.

As he loped toward the entrance he heard the swift pattering of paws behind him, and Jagged Peak’s voice rose shrilly. “Gray Wing! Wait for me!”

Gray Wing turned as Jagged Peak skidded to a halt beside him. “I want to hunt with you,” the kit announced.

Gray Wing suppressed a sigh. “You’re too young,” he replied. “Go and play with the other kits.”

“They only want to do dumb stuff,” Jagged Peak muttered. “Pouncing on a pebble and pretending it’s an eagle! I want to pounce on real eagles.”

“An eagle would just make a mouthful of you,” Gray Wing meowed.

“Would not!” Jagged Peak protested. “I’m big! I’m the oldest kit—I should be allowed to hunt.”

Reluctantly, Gray Wing admitted to himself that his brother had a point. Maybe it is time he started to train. We could certainly use another hunter.

“What’s the matter?” Quiet Rain asked, padding up to them. “Jagged Peak, are you making a nuisance of yourself?”

“He wants to learn how to hunt,” Gray Wing explained, before Jagged Peak could reply.

He caught a swift flash of fear in his mother’s eyes, as if she was thinking of all the dangers outside the cave for a cat as small as Jagged Peak. “He’s so young…”

Jagged Peak’s fur bristled. “I’m the oldest—”

Gray Wing slapped his tail over the kit’s mouth, earning himself an indignant glare.

“He is nearly old enough,” he told Quiet Rain. When his mother still looked doubtful, he added, “Better he comes with me than tries to sneak out on his own.”

Quiet Rain hesitated for a moment longer, then gave a reluctant nod. “All right.” Turning to Jagged Peak, she added, “Stay with Gray Wing, and do exactly what he tells you.”

Jagged Peak nodded vigorously. His eyes were bright and he began pacing with excitement. “Let’s go!”

Gray Wing held Jagged Peak back with his tail as the kit tried to scamper up the path that led behind the waterfall. “The first thing you have to learn,” he said, “is not to go dashing off. Follow me, and keep quiet.”

Though Jagged Peak’s eyes still sparkled, he settled down and padded after Gray Wing. Quiet Rain brought up the rear. Stone Song and Hollow Tree had already left; when he emerged into the open, Gray Wing spotted them together, climbing the opposite slope.

Quiet Rain caught up to Jagged Peak, hesitated, then mewed, “Good hunting,” before she headed up the rocks toward the top of the cliff.

Gray Wing guessed that she would rather have stayed with her kit, but she knew she had to concentrate on her own hunting.

“Okay,” he began, “the most important thing to remember is that, out here, you can be prey too. Some of these birds are strong enough to fly away with a full-grown cat in their talons. Always be aware of what’s going on above your head. Got that?”

Jagged Peak’s eyes stretched wide. “Got it.”

Gray Wing was relieved that his brother seemed to be taking the warning seriously.

“The next thing,” he went on, “is searching for prey. Charging around is pointless—you’ll just scare the animals back into their holes. Use your eyes and nose, and taste the air for scent. Try it now, and see if you can pick up anything.”

Jagged Peak stood still, his ears pricked and his jaws parted. His gaze swiveled around, taking in the snow-covered slopes; Gray Wing was glad to see that he kept casting glances upward as well.

“Can you spot anything?” he asked after a moment.

Jagged Peak dipped his head, looking disappointed. “No.”

“Don’t worry, neither can I,” Gray Wing told him. “Prey doesn’t usually come this close to our cave. We’ll go and look somewhere else in a moment, but first I want to show you how to stalk. You have to learn to get as close as you can to your prey without it knowing you’re there. How do you think you might do that?”

Jagged Peak crouched down into the snow. “Keep as small as I can?” he suggested.

“Right. But when there’s snow on the ground, don’t drop so low that it clogs your fur and slows you down. Move like this…”

Gray Wing lowered himself into position so that his belly fur was just brushing the surface of the snow. Then he crept forward slowly and carefully. Jagged Peak stayed by his side, copying.

“That’s good,” Gray Wing told him, impressed by how quickly his brother was learning. “And what about scent? How can you stop your prey from scenting you before you’re close enough to pounce?”

Jagged Peak thought for a moment, his whiskers quivering, then grumbled, “I don’t know.”

“Think about wind,” Gray Wing prompted.

“Wind…” Jagged Peak sank into deep thought again. “I know!” he exclaimed at last. “The wind carries scent, so I’ve got to make sure that it’s blowing from my prey to me, and not the other way.”

Gray Wing let out a satisfied purr. “You’ll be a hunter in no time. Now let’s go and see what we can find. Don’t forget to keep looking at the sky.”

He led the way up the slope toward the ridge. “This is a good place for finding snow hares,” he told Jagged Peak. “Remember that their fur turns white in the cold season, so it’s hard to spot them unless they’re against the bare rocks. And they’re very fast, so you need to get as close as you can before they know you’re there. If you end up chasing one, you’ll likely lose it.”

As he spoke, Gray Wing realized that Jagged Peak was distracted, constantly staring into the distance. “Hey—concentrate!” he meowed.

“Sorry.” But after a few more paw steps, Jagged Peak was gazing around again.

Gray Wing stopped, irritated, but before he could speak he spotted movement among the rocks above. The white-furred body of a hare was just visible between two boulders.

Nudging Jagged Peak, he flicked his ears in the direction of the hare. “Want to see if you can catch it?” he whispered.

Jagged Peak’s eyes widened in excitement. Crouching down carefully, he crept closer to his prey.

He’s forgotten the wind, Gray Wing realized, though he said nothing.

Jagged Peak had covered about half the distance when the hare suddenly sat up, its long ears erect and its nose twitching. Then it burst from the shelter of the boulders and fled across the slope, snow spraying from under its paws.

Letting out a yowl of frustration, Jagged Peak hurtled in pursuit. As he was so small and light, his paws skimmed easily across the surface of the snow. Gray Wing raced after him.

At first Jagged Peak seemed to be gaining ground, but the hare was bigger and stronger, and soon started to outpace him. We’re going to lose it, Gray Wing thought, forcing his muscles to bunch and stretch in an effort to catch up.

A heartbeat later, a harsh cry rang out. A hawk plummeted from the sky, talons outstretched. The hare let out a squeal of terror and swerved away, heading back toward Jagged Peak.

The young cat sprang and collided with the creature in a small storm of flying snow. Gray Wing saw a thrashing knot of legs and Jagged Peak’s wildly waving tail.

But the hawk hadn’t given up. It dived again. Gray Wing realized that if it couldn’t catch the hare, it would settle for Jagged Peak.

With a wild screech, Gray Wing leaped for the hawk as it bore down. He felt his claws scrape the underside of the hawk’s wing. With another harsh cry the bird mounted into the air, higher and higher until it was only a black dot in the sky.

Once he was sure it wasn’t a threat anymore, Gray Wing spun around toward his brother. He saw Jagged Peak standing shakily on all four paws, the body of the hare stretched motionless in the snow in front of him.

“I got it!” he exclaimed. “I’m a hunter now!”

“Terrific!” Gray Wing praised him. “You did really well. But don’t forget,” he added, “you still have a lot to learn.”

The hare was bigger than Jagged Peak, and he needed Gray Wing’s help to drag it back to the cave. The rest of the Tribe gathered around, exclaiming in wonder when Gray Wing told them how Jagged Peak had made his catch.

“Prey had better watch out!” Lion’s Roar gave the young cat a friendly prod with his tail.

“It’s your prey,” Gray Wing pointed out to his brother. “So you can eat first.”

Jagged Peak’s eyes gleamed as he tore into the hare. Watching him gulp down mouthful after mouthful, Gray Wing reflected on how hungry the kit had been for so long. This could be the first good meal he’s ever had.

There was still plenty left when Jagged Peak drew back. “I’m stuffed!” he declared.

The rest of the Tribe was just beginning to eat when Quiet Rain came back, a hawk dangling from her jaws.

“You had good hunting,” she remarked, dropping her prey beside the remains of the hare.

“Jagged Peak caught it,” Gray Wing replied, while Jagged Peak puffed out his chest with pride.

Quiet Rain’s eyes glowed as she gazed at her young son. “Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Gray Wing, thank you for teaching him so well.”

As Gray Wing settled down to eat his share of the prey he wondered once again what their departed Tribemates were doing. It still felt strange that there were so few cats left in the cave. I hope they’re all safe, and that they’ve found enough to eat.

“Can we go out again?” Jagged Peak mewed when Gray Wing had finished eating. “Hunting’s really exciting!”

Gray Wing glanced toward the cave entrance and saw that the short day was already coming to an end, dusk gathering beyond the waterfall.

“Not now,” Quiet Rain responded, before he could speak. “It’s time for you to go to your nest. You can hunt again tomorrow.”

“But I’m not tired!” Jagged Peak protested. “I can—” His words were interrupted by an enormous yawn.

“No more arguing,” Quiet Rain mewed briskly.

She nudged Jagged Peak across the cavern to their sleeping hollows, and Gray Wing followed. As he settled down, he realized once again how empty the nest now felt. He desperately missed the feeling of his brother’s fur against his.

I wonder where the traveling cats are now…

Gray Wing woke abruptly to see pale dawn light filtering through the waterfall. Quiet Rain was pacing nervously beside him, and he realized that her growls had awoken him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, springing out of his hollow.

“Jagged Peak’s nest is empty,” his mother replied. “He must have gone out by himself—and he knows that he’s not supposed to do that.”

Gray Wing let his tail-tip rest on his mother’s back comfortingly. “He couldn’t have gone far,” he meowed. “I’ll bring him back.”

He scanned the slopes as he emerged from behind the waterfall. Nothing moved in all the snowy landscape.

“Jagged Peak! Jagged Peak!” he yowled.

Silence.

Stupid kit, he thought, scrambling up the rocks that led to the plateau. Wind buffeted his fur as he reached the top and looked around carefully. There was no sign of his brother, and no reply when he called out again.

Beginning to feel troubled, Gray Wing returned to the cave to find his mother waiting anxiously beside the waterfall, a few of the other cats gathered around her. “I’m sorry,” he mewed. “I can’t find him. He’s not beside the pool or on the plateau.”

Quiet Rain began pacing again. “A hawk must have taken him!” she wailed. “Or he’s been smothered in a snowdrift.”

Silver Frost brushed her tail along Quiet Rain’s side. “Jagged Peak is a strong young cat,” she said. “And he’s not stupid. He knows to keep himself out of danger.”

“That’s right,” Lion’s Roar agreed. “He’ll probably turn up soon, with a piece of prey twice his own size!”

“I wish I could believe you,” Quiet Rain murmured.

Gray Wing was worried too. “I’ll go out and take another look,” he promised. “Misty Water,” he added, turning to the elder, “will you come with me?”

“What?” Snow Hare pushed herself between Misty Water and Gray Wing. “She’s too old, and her eyesight is failing,” she hissed into Gray Wing’s ear. “She’ll be no help!”

“That’s not true.” Gray Wing gently nudged Snow Hare aside. “Misty Water,” he mewed, “Broken Feather told me many times that you were the best scent tracker he had ever known. If any cat has a chance of tracking Jagged Peak, it’s you.”

Misty Water blinked up at him with milky blue eyes. “I’ll come,” she responded.

Gray Wing led the way out of the cave, and Misty Water followed, her paw steps stiff and shaky. As soon as she came to the end of the path, she grew more alert, her nose to the ledge, her jaws open to draw in scent. “He went this way,” she announced, beginning to haul herself awkwardly over the rocks that led to the plateau. “I’ll claw that pesky kit when I catch him,” she panted. “My old bones aren’t fit for this.”

Gray Wing scrambled up beside her. “This can’t be right,” he protested, struggling with disappointment. “Jagged Peak was up here two days ago, with the rest of us, when we said farewell to the others.”

Misty Water halted and glared at him. “You think I can’t tell a two-day-old scent from a fresh one?” she demanded. “This scent is laid on top of the older one. You young cats think you know everything.”

Gray Wing kept quiet and followed the elder as she dragged herself over the lip of the plateau, then padded to the little heap of stones that covered Fluttering Bird.

“Did Jagged Peak come over here two days ago?” she asked.

Gray Wing thought back, picturing the scene in his mind. “No,” he replied at last.

“Well, he came here today,” Misty Water mewed. “His scent has pooled, so it shows he spent some time here…” She paused, scenting all around the heap of stones, before clambering down beside the waterfall again. “Then he went this way.”

The old cat branched off over a clump of boulders.

Gray Wing stared at her in amazement. “Are you sure?”

Misty Water glanced back, her eyes narrowed in an icy glare. “Are you saying I’m too old to recognize a scent trail?”

“No, but… that’s the way the traveling cats went.”

As Gray Wing spoke the sun finally pierced through the dark clouds that were massing on the horizon, casting a yellow beam over the side of the mountain. Realization hit him like a blow from a falling rock. “Jagged Peak left to find the traveling cats!” he exclaimed. “He’s following the trail of the sun.”

Misty Water gave the boulders a last sniff, then returned to Gray Wing’s side. “Stupid kit,” she muttered. “He’ll be back when his belly starts rumbling.”

Gray Wing wished he could share her confidence. Jagged Peak is so stone-headed. And since he caught that hare, he probably thinks he can catch anything he wants.

He helped Misty Water down the rocks, then ran ahead back to the cave, where he found Quiet Rain anxiously telling Stoneteller what had happened. She whipped around as Gray Wing raced over to her. “Did you find him?” she asked.

Gray Wing shook his head. “Misty Water picked up Jagged Peak’s scent,” he explained. “It looks as if he went to say good-bye to Fluttering Bird at the pile of stones, and then followed the other cats heading out of the mountains.”

Quiet Rain gasped in horror, her eyes wide with dismay. “Oh, no…” Her voice quivered with anguish. “He’ll be killed!”

Gray Wing pressed his muzzle against his mother’s shoulder. “Jagged Peak can look after himself—”

“He can’t look after himself!” Quiet Rain’s voice rose to a wail. “He’s too young.” Straightening up, she took a deep breath, obviously fighting for self-control. “Gray Wing,” she meowed, “you wouldn’t leave when I told you to before. But now you must. You have to find your brother and make sure he reaches this new place safely.”

Gray Wing glanced at Stoneteller. The old white she-cat didn’t speak, but he saw encouragement in her green eyes. Glancing around the cave, he saw Twisted Branch and Dewy Leaf on their way out to hunt. The Tribe would not lack for hunting with those two around.

Then he remembered the golden path of sunlight that he had seen stretching across the valley, tugging him away from his home in the cave.

He turned back to meet his mother’s pleading gaze. “All right,” he agreed. “I will go after Jagged Peak.”