Violet didn’t let him finish. “I understand.” She hooked the cobweb between her mouth and one paw and padded toward Fern. “Where are you hurt?” she asked, sniffing the other she-cat’s pelt.
Pebble Heart raised his voice. “Everyone who is hurt must wash their wounds thoroughly. If there’s a scratch you can’t reach, let your campmates wash it for you.”
Dawn hurried toward Bee. Pine and Drizzle ran after her.
Moss began to sniff Ember’s pelt. “There’s a wound under your chin,” he told the tom.
“Take care of your own wounds.” Ember nodded toward the blood welling above Moss’s eyes.
Violet turned toward Thunder. “Are you hurt?”
“No—” Thunder gasped suddenly as pain throbbed through his forepaw. He lifted it, surprised to find puncture wounds in his fur. Had the terrier managed to bite him? He hardly remembered.
Violet hurried toward him. “Dog bites can turn nasty.” She sat down, lifted his forepaw between hers, and began to gently clean his wounds with long laps of her tongue.
Thunder snatched his paw away, his pelt burning.
Violet stared at him in surprise. “I’m sorry.” Her ears twitched anxiously. “I was just trying to help.”
Thunder’s tongue seemed to twist into knots. “I can do it,” he mumbled.
Violet shrugged. “If you like.” She turned to Lightning Tail. “Are you hurt?”
Lightning Tail shook his head. “Not a scratch,” he told her. “But I’ve always been lucky.”
Pine and Drizzle huddled close to Dawn as the queen washed a wound behind Bee’s ear. Pine was staring toward the camp entrance. Drizzle crouched so close to her mother, she was almost hidden beneath the queen’s orange-and-white fur.
Rain was beginning to fall from the gray, heavy sky.
Thunder’s heart twisted as he saw fear in the kits’ eyes. What if Slash did come back? And what about the dogs? Now that they knew there was a rogue camp here, they might return. What if they were part of a bigger pack? He glanced around at the wounded, undernourished cats. They were in no state to defend themselves from another attack.
“You can’t stay here,” he murmured.
Violet jerked her muzzle toward him. “What?”
“This camp’s not safe anymore,” Thunder met her gaze solemnly. “You need to find a new home.”
Violet blinked at him through the thickening rain. “And where exactly are we supposed to go?”
Chapter 14
Rain battered Gray Wing’s face as he hurried after Lightning Tail. The black tom had raced into the moor camp, breathless and soaked to the skin. Gray Wing had tried to persuade him to shelter until he’d dried off, but Lightning Tail had shaken out his pelt and begged to see Wind Runner.
“She’s hunting with Gorse Fur,” Gray Wing had told him.
“Then you must come,” Lightning Tail had puffed. “The rogues need our help.”
“The rogues?” Gray Wing had stared at him in disbelief.
His thoughts still whirled as he chased Lightning Tail into the pines. The black tom was already racing down the slope toward the Thunderpath. Gray Wing’s chest tightened, and he slowed, nodding reassuringly to Lightning Tail as the tom looked back anxiously. I must pace myself. I can’t collapse now. Thunder needs me.
How could the rogues need help? Only a few days ago they’d attacked his patrol. Lightning Tail had babbled something about dogs and Slash and the camp being unsafe. Had Slash abandoned his campmates and left the marsh?
Hope sparked beneath Gray Wing’s pelt. If Slash was gone, perhaps life on the moor could return to normal. No extra guards. Fewer hunting patrols. They could sleep soundly in their nests once more.
Lightning Tail stopped beside the Thunderpath and waited. As Gray Wing skidded to a halt on the wet grass beside him, a monster pounded toward them. When it shot past, Lightning Tail stepped in front of him, blocking the spray from its spinning paws. Gray Wing felt a prickle of irritation. You don’t need to protect me. He padded around the tom and broke into a run, racing over the slick stone path. He kept running until he reached the shelter of the pines on the other side.
Gray Wing was relieved to be out of the rain. Only a few drops penetrated the thick needle canopy. Lightning Tail caught up to him and shook out his fur.
Gray Wing smoothed the rain from his whiskers, stiffening suddenly as a thought struck him. “Is
Fern okay?”
“She’s wounded. But not badly.” Lightning Tail set off through the pines. “Pebble Heart’s there.
He’ll take care of her.”
Gray Wing leaped a ditch as they reached it. “Were many cats hurt?”
“Most of them,” Lightning Tail told him. “Two are dead.”
Dead! It must have been a horrific attack. “Where did Slash go?”
Lightning Tail shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Why did he leave? Did the dogs drive him out?”
“No,” Lightning Tail told him. “He abandoned his campmates after the attack.”
Gray Wing’s pelt prickled with shock. “Abandoned them?”
“They were glad to see him go.”
At last! Satisfaction warmed Gray Wing’s belly. Fern would be free now. “Is Slash alone?”
Lightning Tail shook his head. “Beetle, Splinter, Snake, and Swallow went with him.”
Gray Wing’s heart sank. Slash wasn’t as isolated as he’d hoped. What if he returned to terrorize his campmates once more? “We need to get the others away from the marsh as soon as we can.” But where could they take them?
The rain was easing by the time they reached the marsh camp. The dark, soggy afternoon was sliding quickly into evening. As Lightning Tail led Gray Wing through the entrance, Gray Wing stared at the gloomy clearing. His paws pricked with shock. Holes in the camp wall showed where the dogs had crashed through. The rain-soaked earth smelled of blood. Cats huddled in the shelter of the marsh grass at the edges. They gazed warily at Gray Wing as he entered.
He dipped his head. “My name is Gray Wing,” he told them. “I’ve come to help.”
Fern padded from a drooping clump of reeds. “Gray Wing.” Her eyes were hollow with exhaustion. “Did Lightning Tail tell you? Slash is gone.”
“I know.” Gray Wing touched his nose to the young she-cat’s head, relieved to find her well.
“How are you?”
She drew away. “My sister is dead.” She blinked at a mottled she-cat lying at the edge of the clearing.
“That was your sister?”
“She’s why I had to come back.”
Lightning Tail scanned the clearing. “Where’s Thunder?”
“He’s digging a grave with Juniper and Raven.” Fern nodded toward a gap in the camp wall. “Out there.”
A pretty gray she-cat crossed the clearing to meet them. Black fur edged her ears and paws, and her amber eyes were warm. “Are you Gray Wing?”
Gray Wing dipped his head in greeting. “Yes.”
“Thank you for coming.” She stopped in front of him. “I’m Violet. Thunder said you might be able to find us somewhere to stay.” She glanced around at the battered camp. “I don’t think we’re safe here anymore.”
Gray Wing’s ears twitched uneasily. An orange tom was huddled beside a tortoiseshell she-cat.
He recognized them from the attack on the moor. Only a few days ago, he and his campmates had fought these very cats. Violet was still staring at him expectantly. He fumbled for words. “I’ll do what I can,” he murmured. Turning his head, he gazed through the gap in the camp wall. “I must speak with Thunder first.”