The Sun Trail

Chapter 5

Gray Wing headed for the cave entrance, but halted when he saw Dewy Leaf and Twisted Branch returning, only heartbeats after they had left. Both were covered in snow, and stopped to shake their pelts.

“There’s a blizzard out there,” Twisted Branch announced. “We won’t be able to catch anything until it’s over.”

Dewy Leaf gave a snort of disgust. “The wind nearly blew me off the mountain.”

Quiet Rain padded to Gray Wing’s side. “You can’t leave in weather like this,” she mewed, her voice sharp with anxiety.

Gray Wing understood how worried she must be about Jagged Peak, especially now that the snow had set in. “I can try—”

“No!” Quiet Rain interrupted. “Do you think I want all my kits to freeze to death?”

“She’s right.” Stoneteller approached and touched Quiet Rain’s ear with her nose. “Jagged Peak will find shelter, and so will Shaded Moss and his cats. You won’t fall any further behind by waiting until the storm is over.”

Gray Wing’s paws itched with impatience as the day continued, snowflakes outside whirling like white feathers out of a gray sky. By the time the storm blew itself out, the sun was setting behind the mountains in a dull red glow. Sharp Hail and Hollow Tree went out to hunt, but Gray Wing knew that it was too late for him to start his journey.

Grief and apprehension had settled over the cave like a low cloud. Every cat feared the worst for Jagged Peak. Gray Wing could only hope that Stoneteller was right, and his little brother had been able to find shelter.

His mother bore the waiting with quiet dignity, though her eyes were dark pools of pain. Gray Wing padded to where she crouched near the cave entrance.

“It doesn’t seem fair that you should lose all your kits,” he murmured, sitting beside her.

“I have no choice,” Quiet Rain sighed. “And I still have Fluttering Bird near me, beneath her pelt of stones.”

Gray Wing leaned closer to his mother so that his fur brushed hers, and sat with her as the light from the gray screen of falling water faded to darkness. His heart felt like it might burst with grief.

The sound of paw steps roused him and he saw Hollow Tree and Sharp Hail returning, their legs and belly fur plastered with snow. Hollow Tree was carrying a small, scrawny bird.

“Gray Wing, you should have this,” she meowed, dropping it in front of him. “It will give you the strength to follow Jagged Peak.”

“I can’t,” Gray Wing protested, with a glance toward his Tribemates deeper inside the cave. “No cat has eaten today.”

Sharp Hail pushed the bird closer to Gray Wing with one paw. “And this miserable thing won’t fill one cat, let alone the whole Tribe.”

“You need it,” Stoneteller agreed, appearing from the shadows. “None of us would begrudge you a mouthful.”

“Thank you,” Gray Wing mewed.

He gulped down the bird in a few bites, then went to his sleeping hollow. Even though he knew he needed to rest for his journey, it took a long time for him to sleep. Curled up with the noise of the waterfall in his ears, he wondered drowsily if this was the last time he would ever hear it.

Toward dawn he sank into deeper sleep, and woke to the sound of a cat padding past him. Turning his head, he spotted Stoneteller heading toward the cave entrance, where she sat and stared into the thunderous water. Gray Wing went to join her.

As he sat down at her side, Stoneteller glanced at him. “I don’t know if I did the right thing by sending so many cats away,” she admitted. “But the vision of the sun trail seemed to offer a way out of the agony of seeing my Tribe starve to death in the long cold season…”

Her voice was quiet, almost as if she was talking to herself. Gray Wing hardly knew what to say. “None of us knows what the future holds,” he mewed at last. “We can only trust our instincts.”

Stoneteller dipped her head in acknowledgment. “We’ll miss you, Gray Wing.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Gray Wing confessed. “But now I know there’s something I must do. I promise that I’ll find Jagged Peak and take him to join the others in their new home.”

Light began filtering through the waterfall, and Gray Wing heard the sounds of his Tribemates stirring. One by one they gathered around him and Stoneteller.

“Remember to be careful where you’re putting your paws,” Lion’s Roar advised. “This fresh snow could be hiding all sorts of dangers.”

I’m not a kit, Gray Wing thought, though he didn’t speak the words aloud. He realized that the elders only wanted to make sure he traveled safely.

“I wouldn’t want to set off all on my own,” Stone Song confessed, giving Gray Wing a friendly nudge. “You’re a brave cat.”

Hollow Tree nodded. “We’ll be thinking of you.”

Gray Wing didn’t feel brave. Now that it was time to leave, his belly churned with apprehension. But he had no choice: Jagged Peak needed him.

Among the gathered cats, he spotted Dewy Leaf. “Do you want to come?” he asked her. “It’s your last chance to be with Moon Shadow again.”

Dewy Leaf hesitated, glancing at her rounded belly, then shook her head. “My kits belong in the mountains,” she replied, her tone not bitter, but resigned. “And I think things will be better here now. But when you see Moon Shadow, tell him I hope he’s happy in his new home.”

“I will,” Gray Wing promised.

Misty Water nudged her way to the front of the crowd. “Don’t forget the route I showed you,” she meowed. “Over those boulders and around the side of the mountain.”

“I know.” Gray Wing dipped his head respectfully. “We wouldn’t know where Jagged Peak went, if it wasn’t for you.”

Misty Water gave a satisfied snort.

Quiet Rain was the last cat to step forward. “I’ll come with you a little way,” she murmured, giving Gray Wing’s ear a lick.

With a final farewell to the other cats, Gray Wing led the way out into the open. Quiet Rain padded softly behind him. On the mountainside the dawn light was still gray and dim, the sky covered with clouds, though a gathering brightness on the horizon showed where the sun would rise. A stiff breeze blew loose snow into their faces.

Together Gray Wing and Quiet Rain climbed the rocks toward the plateau, halting beside the boulders where Jagged Peak had veered aside. “Wait here a moment,” Gray Wing murmured, before scrambling up the rest of the way and heading across to the heap of stones that showed where Fluttering Bird was buried.

“I don’t know if you can still hear or see me,” Gray Wing whispered, bowing his head, “but I promise I will never forget you.”

After a couple of heartbeats he turned away and clambered back to his mother. Side by side they skirted the boulders and made their way along the ledge where they had last seen Shaded Moss and his companions.

Gray Wing had been afraid that the fresh snow would have blotted out the trail, but here and there, in crevices where little snow could reach, he picked up traces of the traveling cats, and Jagged Peak’s fresh scent lying on top.

“He did come this way,” Quiet Rain mewed, sounding a little encouraged.

Jagged Peak’s faint scent led them around the flank of the mountain; a shiver ran through Gray Wing from ears to tail-tip as he glanced back, taking one last look at the waterfall. For a little while, their surroundings were still familiar from hunting expeditions, but well before sunhigh they were padding into new territory, where every paw step felt strange.

The trail began to lead into a valley, and he heard the sound of a river. He halted on the bank with Quiet Rain at his side and looked out across a fierce, tumbling torrent, pouring steeply down the side of the mountain. A cobweb-thin casing of ice stretched from bank to bank, with dark water gurgling along underneath.

“The ice will only take one cat across,” Quiet Rain mewed. “This is where my journey ends.”

Though her voice was calm, grief welled up in her eyes, and Gray Wing knew how hard it must be for her to bid good-bye to her last kit. He pressed against her side, twining his tail with hers and parting his jaws to draw in her scent.

“I’ll find Jagged Peak,” he promised. “And I’ll never let him and Clear Sky forget our home.”

Quiet Rain let out a long sigh, then nudged him away. “Go quickly,” she told him. “Before the sun rises higher and melts the ice.”

With a final good-bye, Gray Wing stepped out onto the ice, uncomfortably aware of how fragile it was. If it gave way, the turbulent water would sweep him down the mountain to a certain death on the rocks below. He placed one paw after another cautiously, not daring to stop or look back; he just kept his gaze fixed on the safety of the rocks at the other side.

Then there was an ominous creaking underpaw.

Quiet Rain screeched, “Run!”

Gray Wing sprang forward, hurling himself at the opposite bank. Behind him he heard the ice give way and fall into the river; spray boiled up from the thunderous water, blotting out the firm ground ahead. His forepaws landed on rock just as the ice finally shattered and he felt freezing water surge around his hindquarters. Scrabbling frantically, he dragged himself to safety and whirled, peering through the spray for Quiet Rain on the opposite bank. But the mist had risen between them and he couldn’t see her.

“I’m alive!” he yowled as loudly as he could.

For a few heartbeats he ran up and down the bank, trying to get a clear view of his mother, but the water was too fierce, the spray too thick, and every moment he risked losing his balance on the slippery rocks and plunging into the torrent.

“Good-bye!” he yowled again, hoping that Quiet Rain could hear him. He could hardly bear the thought that she might believe he was dead too. “I won’t forget you, or the mountains!”

Turning away from the river, Gray Wing tried to work out where he should go next. The sun was only a pale disc behind the clouds, hardly enough to guide him. I’ll just have to hope that Jagged Peak came this way too, he thought.

By sunhigh, Gray Wing needed to rest. His paws ached. “I’ve never traveled so far in my life,” he muttered as he looked for a sheltered spot. And maybe that’s the problem, he thought. We’ve always hunted close to home. We might have found more prey if we’d spread our search a bit wider. Not that I’ve seen much prey out here…

The breeze stiffened and became an icy wind, swirling up loose snow. Gray Wing dived thankfully into shelter under a split rock. Familiar scents wrapped around him as he flopped down.

The other cats were here!

But he couldn’t detect Jagged Peak’s scent among the others. It should be stronger and fresher than the rest, but I can’t pick it up at all.

He cast his mind back to the iced-over river. Jagged Peak had no experience of walking on ice. Maybe he was too afraid to try.

Gray Wing wondered if Jagged Peak had headed into the valley instead, trying to find a safer place to cross.

Determination to find his brother flooded through him. He forced his way into the wind again. There was no fresh snow falling, only sharp flakes tossed up by the gale.

His fur flattened to his sides, Gray Wing blinked as he peered down into the valley, then up the trail where the other cats had gone. He knew they might be close…

I can’t go on up the trail without looking for Jagged Peak first.

Gray Wing plunged down the slope as fast as he could, bounding from boulder to boulder. In his haste he landed clumsily and slipped, letting out a hiss of pain as skin scraped off one of his pads. Agony shot up his leg, but after a few limping paw steps the cold numbed his injury.

To his relief, the wind dropped as he reached the valley. A broad stretch of ground lay in front of him, riddled with deep-set streams and scattered with boulders. A few stunted trees and bushes poked up through the snow. Feeling hunger gnawing at his belly, Gray Wing stayed alert for signs of prey, as well as traces of Jagged Peak’s scent. But he found nothing of either. All he could see was the body of an old snow hare lying under a bush.

Disgusting! His nose wrinkled as he sniffed at it. A cat eats fresh prey, not buzzardfood. But with nothing else to quiet his growling belly, he forced himself to bite into the frozen flesh.

When he could force down no more, his belly feeling chilled and uncomfortable, Gray Wing studied the valley. Looking back in the direction he had come, he could see the river crashing down the mountainside, and wondered if Jagged Peak could be behind him now. His little brother might have taken a long time to work his way down among the rocks at the river’s edge.

Gray Wing began to head up the valley, but it was slow going because he had to wind around so many boulders. Limping and frustrated, he glanced around to find the biggest one and scrambled on top of it.

From his vantage point he could scan the valley in both directions. There was no sign of Jagged Peak between him and the river, but his brother was small enough to be hidden amongst the boulders.

Turning to look along the valley in the direction the traveling cats would have headed, Gray Wing saw that it was empty too, except for a flicker of movement above as an eagle swooped from a crag. His gaze tracked its flight closely, trying to spot where its prey was hiding. If it misses, I might be able to catch the prey later, he thought.

The eagle flung itself down and Gray Wing heard its screech of fury as it came up again empty-clawed. Beneath the screech, Gray Wing thought he could make out a faint yowl.

His heart slammed into his throat. Jagged Peak?

Gray Wing leaped from the boulder, ignoring his injured pad as the wound broke open, and raced toward the eagle, which had begun another dive. As he drew closer he saw that the bird was young, with soft feathers around its face and legs.

Good! That means it’ll be easier to deal with.

As he scrambled desperately among the rocks, Gray Wing could hear the panic-stricken caterwauling more clearly.

“Leave me alone! Help!”

“I’m coming!” Gray Wing yowled in reply. “Hold on!”

The eagle had alighted on a rock, and was reaching down with one claw, trying to grab Jagged Peak from a narrow crevice below. Gray Wing could just make out the tips of his brother’s ears, and realized that he was trapped in the tiny space.

I’ll have to distract the eagle so that Jagged Peak can escape.

Gray Wing sprang forward and crouched in front of the bird, his lips drawn back. The eagle flapped awkwardly around to fix its beady yellow eyes on him. It lunged, squawking. Gray Wing tried to dodge aside, but his injured paw made him stumble. With a stab of panic he felt the bird’s talons fasten in the loose fur at his neck. He thrashed to free himself and fell back among the rocks, but before he could struggle to his paws the eagle beat its mighty wings and grabbed hold of him again.

“Gray Wing! I’m coming!”

Gray Wing heard his brother’s shriek and caught a glimpse of Jagged Peak scrambling out of the crack, fearlessly launching himself at the eagle.

The bird flapped madly against the weight of two cats, and Gray Wing felt himself lifted from the ground. The pain in his neck was shooting through all his body and a red mist covered his eyes. He struggled to stay conscious. Then he felt the eagle let go with one talon to grab at Jagged Peak.

Hah! he thought. Mistake, greedy-belly!

He managed to twist around and batter at the eagle’s underbelly with his hind legs. With a screech the bird released him and he plunged downward to hit the rocks with a bone-jarring crash.

Looking up, Gray Wing saw Jagged Peak hanging on to the eagle’s wing with his claws. “Jagged Peak! Let go!” he yowled.

Jagged Peak glanced at the ground, then unhooked his claws and fell back onto the stones. The eagle swooped toward them again with another furious screech; with a heartbeat to spare, Gray Wing shoved Jagged Peak into the space between two rocks. They cowered there in the tiny gap while the eagle shrieked overhead.

Jagged Peak was trembling from pain and fear, looking like nothing more than a kit. Gray Wing curled his body around him and soothed him with long, slow licks.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. I’ve found you.”