Gray Wing pricked his ears. “You saw Fluttering Bird?” His eyes lit up. “How is she?”
“She’s well.” Warmth flooded Clear Sky as he remembered his sister’s sleek fur. “Better than she ever was in life.”
“What did she say?” Tall Shadow asked slowly.
“She said we must each follow our hearts,” Clear Sky told her.
“She meant we must find our own homes,” Tall Shadow concluded.
“No!” Clear Sky flexed his claws in frustration. “Why would the spirit cats ask us to split up now? We’d be making ourselves vulnerable—especially after the sickness killed off so much prey.
We must join together! The way we used to be. The way we should have stayed.” His pelt grew hot.
Gray Wing and Thunder were staring at him through narrowed eyes. Didn’t they trust him? “Please come with me to the forest.” He flicked his tail toward the other cats, half-hidden by the snow, which swirled across the clearing. “Every cat must come. It’s sheltered there.”
“No, Clear Sky.” Thunder’s growl cut to Clear Sky’s heart. “After everything that’s happened, we can’t go back to how it was.” His amber gaze sharpened. “Cats have died over the borders you created. Now you want us to pretend they were never there.”
“But what about the spirit cats?” Clear Sky’s mew was hoarse. They’re rejecting my plan.
Gray Wing met Clear Sky’s gaze. “They told us to spread and grow, and that’s what we’ll do.”
“You should go home.” Thunder jerked his nose toward the camp entrance. “No one’s coming to live in the forest with you. If you want more cats to boss around, recruit some new strays.”
Clear Sky swallowed. What’s gotten into Thunder? Did he really believe Clear Sky just wanted to boss more cats around? Did he think he’d learned nothing?
Tall Shadow gazed anxiously into the wind. Flakes of snow whipped her face. “Perhaps he should wait out the storm. It’s almost on us.”
Clear Sky shook his head. He didn’t want to stay. “I’ll go,” he growled.
Head down, he padded to the entrance. He had come to unite the cats. Now he felt further away from them than ever. How would he explain this to Fluttering Bird? He’d failed her. He pushed through the gorse, his paws heavy as stone. There must be some way to make the moor cats understand. He flattened his ears as he padded out onto the open grass beyond the gorse. The wind was strong, the snow thick. It buffeted his fur, so cold that it felt like claws slicing through his pelt.
Hunching low, Clear Sky hurried toward the heather.
I’ll make them understand, Fluttering Bird. Snow battered his face. I’ll make them follow their hearts, I promise. We’ll be together soon.
Chapter 2
Thunder watched his father disappear through the gorse. Guilt stabbed at his chest. Was I too harsh? He glanced questioningly at Gray Wing. “Should I make sure he gets back to the forest safely?”
Gray Wing didn’t answer. He was gazing into the swirling snow, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
Tall Shadow leaned forward. “Go,” she murmured.
Thunder blinked at her gratefully and headed for the gorse. Pushing out onto the moor, he narrowed his eyes against the blinding snow. He strained to make out his father’s pelt, and felt relieved as he spotted a dark shape moving ahead. Ducking low, he raced after it.
“Clear Sky!” The wind whipped his mew away. He pushed harder, digging his claws through the thickening layer of snow. Clear Sky disappeared into a swath of heather.
Thunder headed after him, ducking along a stale rabbit trail. He caught sight of his father’s tail ahead. “Clear Sky!” Sheltered now, his call echoed along the heather tunnel.
Clear Sky stopped. “What?” He glanced back warily.
Thunder scrambled to a halt, his lungs burning from the cold. “I wanted to make sure you got home safely,” he puffed.
“Is that all?” Clear Sky kept walking.
Thunder swallowed back guilt. “I know the moor better than you,” he meowed firmly. “You could easily get lost in this storm.”
Clear Sky flicked his tail.
Thunder followed. “I’m sorry about what I said.”
Clear Sky didn’t answer.
Thunder’s belly tightened. Why should I feel bad? He’s the one who made the boundaries. Now he wants to abolish them. He followed Clear Sky, flattening his ears.
The trail opened into a small clearing between the bushes, and Clear Sky halted. The wind gusted above the heather. Thunder’s pelt pricked as his father turned to face him.
“I don’t want more cats to boss around.” Clear Sky’s blue eyes glittered with hurt.
Thunder glanced at the ground. “Well, there was a time when you did,” he mumbled.
“Not anymore.” Clear Sky’s shoulders drooped. “I just want us to be together, like we used to be.
Fluttering Bird wants it too.”
Thunder felt a surge of sympathy. Was his father still grieving for the young sister he’d lost?
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not.” Clear Sky gazed at him for a moment. He nodded toward a rabbit trail opening onto the clearing, then flicked his muzzle toward another. “Which one?”
Thunder brushed past him and ducked into the nearest tunnel. “This way.” He led Clear Sky along the familiar track until it opened onto the hillside. Snow battered his face as he emerged, and he braced himself against the wind. It was bitter enough to freeze prey.
Clear Sky slid out beside him and stared through narrowed eyes. “Where’s the forest?”
Thunder strained to see but the blizzard was thicker than fog. “If we follow the slope, it should lead us down to the forest’s edge.”
“I’ll go first.” Clear Sky pushed past him. “I know the scents of the forest better than you. I’ll know when we’re close.”
For a cat who doesn’t want more cats to boss around, you’re awfully good at it. Thunder bristled but held his tongue and followed Clear Sky, keeping so close that his father’s tail-tip brushed his nose. The wind roared in his ears. Cold pierced his pelt, and he fought not to shiver. “Maybe we should find a tunnel and take shelter till it passes.”
“We’re nearly there,” Clear Sky called over his shoulder. “I smell fresh earth. The forest must be close.” The gray tom quickened his pace. Thunder hurried after him, alarm pricking in his paws as his father’s tail disappeared. “Clear Sky!” They mustn’t be separated. Not in this weather. He blinked against the snow, relieved as he made out Clear Sky’s pelt once more.
An angry roar exploded ahead.
Fear flashed through Thunder. What is it? Pelt bushing, he surged forward. “Clear Sky?”
A large, dark shape lunged toward Clear Sky from the blinding whiteness.
Clear Sky shrieked.
Thunder raced forward, the tang of blood hitting his nose, followed by the fierce stench of badger.
His heart seemed to explode in his chest. “Clear Sky!” He heard the thump of hard muscle on the frozen earth, and the vicious snarl of the badger. Black fur showed through the storm; wide hindquarters bucked and trembled. The massive creature was pinning Clear Sky to the ground. Panic scorching through him, Thunder heard jaws snap.
“Let him go!” Thunder hurled himself at the badger’s flank, digging his claws in deep. The badger shook him off and snapped again at Clear Sky.
Claws caught Thunder’s flank as he fell against Clear Sky’s desperately flailing hind legs. He jumped clear, his mind spinning. The badger was huge!