At least, he thought, his instincts had been right. He had felt that their troubles were not over, and the vague words of the starry cats seemed to confirm that more lay ahead.
He remembered the dream that kept coming to him ever since the battle, when Stoneteller had summoned him to her den and told him that he had to be strong.
Maybe this is what she meant. Our survival is going to come under threat, and we need to… to grow and spread like the Blazing Star. “Whatever that means,” Gray Wing muttered aloud.
As he stood deep in thought the rest of the cats crept forward to gather around him, their voices hushed now.
“What could the Blazing Star be?” Dappled Pelt wondered.
“And how can we grow and spread like it?” Petal added, glancing around as if she expected one of her denmates to come up with the answer.
Clear Sky shouldered his way to the front of the crowd to stand beside Gray Wing. “Maybe it’s a battle tactic,” he suggested.
“That doesn’t make sense!” Tall Shadow argued, narrowing her eyes at Clear Sky. “There are no cats to fight anymore.”
Wind Runner blinked, looking unusually hesitant. “What else could they have meant when they said that a ‘claw still blights the forest’?”
“Maybe the claw isn’t a real claw, but another riddle?”
Gray Wing froze as a new voice joined the conversation, strong and confident. He whipped around to see a strange she-cat who he was sure hadn’t been there just a moment before. She gazed boldly into his eyes. Her fur was thick and golden, its tabby markings rippling over her body, except for her chest and paws, which were pure white.
“Where did you come from?” he asked. “Are you part of Clear Sky’s group?”
The she-cat didn’t reply, and Clear Sky wasn’t taking any notice of her. “I wish the spirit-cats had been more help,” he mewed with a lash of his tail; clearly he felt just as frustrated as Gray Wing.
Gray Wing saw River Ripple turning away and heading back the way he came with a nod of farewell.
“You’re leaving already?” he asked, shocked.
“I can see which way this is going,” River Ripple confirmed with a wry twist of his mouth. “I’m not sticking around for another night of bickering. If I happen to figure anything out, I’ll come and find you.”
Gray Wing watched as the silver-gray tom disappeared into the darkness. Thorn, Dew, and Nettle from Clear Sky’s group were watching him too, and—to Gray Wing’s surprise—so was Dappled Pelt, with something in her gaze that he couldn’t quite account for.
Dragging his attention back to the debate over the spirit-cats’ message, Gray Wing noticed that Thunder wasn’t making any contribution. He was too busy looking at the strange she-cat who had just spoken, his whiskers twitching bashfully.
The she-cat padded over to him—her gaze fixed as if she saw no other cat—and stood in front of him, her tail flicking slowly to and fro.
“I’ve been dying to meet you,” she purred. “I’ve heard so much about you on the moor: what a great leader and fighter you are.”
As he listened, Thunder’s chest puffed up with pride. He opened his jaws to speak, but nothing came out. It was as if he had no idea what to say.
The she-cat waited for a moment, then turned and padded away, glancing back to shoot a final glance at Thunder from luminous green eyes before she vanished into the undergrowth. Thunder couldn’t tear his gaze away.
Gray Wing felt a rumble of laughter rising in his throat. Thunder might be a big, strong leader of cats, he thought, but in other ways he’s still very young.
Chapter 5
Clear Sky paused beneath an arching clump of ferns, and took in a long breath of the cool morning air. Since the first visit from the spirit-cats, there was no need to patrol his boundaries anymore, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest in the dim light of dawn. And since the second visit from the spirit-cats the night before, he wanted time to ponder their message.
The Blazing Star. Could it be the sun? Clear Sky wondered, padding onward through the undergrowth, the dew-laden grasses brushing his pelt. But no— how could any cat use the sun as a weapon?
Deep in thought, he didn’t realize at first how far his paws were taking him, until he caught a familiar acrid tang at the back of his throat, and heard a distant rumble.
The Thunderpath!
Clear Sky halted, then turned back toward his own camp, his fur bristling. I certainly don’t want to go there!
The harsh reek of monsters faded, but Clear Sky’s nose twitched as he picked up another scent.
There was a cat in the forest—one he didn’t recognize—and as the scent gradually strengthened he realized it was drawing closer to him.
Every hair on Clear Sky’s pelt prickled with suspicion. Is this a sneak attack? But the strange cat was moving too clumsily for that; Clear Sky could see the tops of the ferns waving as the cat blundered forward, making no attempt at quiet.
Clear Sky hesitated a heartbeat longer, then leaped up into the nearest tree and crouched on a low branch, half-hidden by a clump of leaves.
A moment later a ginger tom emerged from the undergrowth and started sniffing around the roots of the tree. Now that he was so close, Clear Sky’s belly turned over at the stench that was rising from him.
A kittypet—and one he had seen before, slinking through the forest with some kits.
Clear Sky waited until the tom turned to pad away, then rose to his paws and took a pace farther along the branch, into the open. “You again! What do you want here?” he demanded.
The kittypet reared back in alarm, then crouched to the ground, laying his ears back. “My name is Tom. I—I don’t mean any harm,” he stammered. “I’ve been wandering around in the forest for a while, and I noticed the cats are forming into… groups.”
Clear Sky twitched his ears. “And?”
“I like the sound of that,” Tom went on. “Cats working together, helping each other to find shelter and prey. It’s got to be much better than working alone, scrounging for scraps while hoping it doesn’t rain too hard. I was wondering if… well, if your group might have room for one more?”
Clear Sky studied the ginger tom closely. He wasn’t entirely convinced by the kittypet’s speech or his cringing manner. “I can see the marks on your neck where you wore your Twoleg collar,” he meowed. “And your round belly. You must have had a few easy meals lately.”
Tom gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “I once lived with Twolegs,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I’ve since returned to the wild.”
“Returned?” Clear Sky challenged him.
Tom rolled his eyes. “All right, not ‘returned’ exactly. This is my first time living in the wild. But it feels like I’m returning… to my real home.”
Clear Sky let out a snort of laughter. “Oh, I feel so sorry for you! It must have been hard, living in the warm and dry of a Twoleg den when your spirit was craving the cold, wet, and hunger of the wild!”
Studying Tom afresh, Clear Sky noticed that his pelt did look a bit ragged in places. Though he still had the stench of Twolegs on him, it was believable that he had been living like a real cat for a little while. But Clear Sky was still reluctant to take in a kittypet, especially when he remembered what had happened with Bumble.
Leaping to the ground, Clear Sky kept a wary distance from Tom while padding around him to size him up.
“So can I come and live with you?” Tom asked. “I’ve heard about your survival tactics, and I think I could work the same way.”