“Gray Wing?” Pebble Heart mewed sleepily, his eyes closed.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” he whispered. He hopped from his nest and padded noiselessly around the edge of the clearing, keeping to the shadows until he reached the gap in the heather. He halted and pricked his ears.
Rainswept Flower and Jagged Peak were talking beyond the thick wall.
“We’ve got to make Clear Sky see reason!” Rainswept Flower hissed.
“Talking to him won’t work,” Jagged Peak whispered. “Gray Wing still thinks of him as the brother he knew in the mountains. But Clear Sky’s changed. I’ve seen how heartless he’s become.” Bitterness hardened the young tom’s mew.
Gray Wing swallowed back a sigh. Would Jagged Peak never forgive their brother for sending him away?
Jagged Peak went on. “If Gray Wing turns up in Clear Sky’s camp and challenges his authority, he’ll just make things worse. Clear Sky will be furious. I don’t think Gray Wing understands the danger he’s putting himself in.”
“The danger he’s putting us all in,” Rainswept Flower added. “The angrier Clear Sky is, the more dangerous he’ll become.”
Gray Wing stiffened. Why hadn’t they come to him to share these worries? Should he step from the shadows and confront them? No. He had to hear what they truly thought, not what they guessed he wanted to hear. He leaned deeper into the heather.
“Gray Wing’s the last cat who should try to talk with Clear Sky,” Jagged Peak fretted. “So much has happened between them. Clear Sky will never see past his anger.”
“But we have to do something,” Rainswept Flower argued. “Or Clear Sky will keep taking territory until there’s nothing left.”
“Clear Sky needs to speak to a cat who can remind him who he used to be,” Jagged Peak murmured. “Someone who can show him how much he’s changed. And what he’s become.”
“Someone like you?” Rainswept Flower suggested hopefully.
“No,” Jagged Peak answered sharply. “I’m lame now. Clear Sky thinks I’m no better than prey.”
“Then who?”
Gray Wing held his breath. Why don’t they trust me? I know I can change Clear Sky’s mind!
Jagged Peak’s hushed mew sounded through the heather. “What about you?”
Rainswept Flower gasped. “Me?”
“Clear Sky has always respected you,” Jagged peak pressed. “You’ve known each other all your lives but you’ve hardly spoken since he’s changed. Talking to you might remind him of his old self.” He paused for a moment, then added, “You were a friend of Bright Stream.”
Grief stabbed Gray Wing’s heart at the name. Bright Stream had been Clear Sky’s first love. She’d been carrying Clear Sky’s kits when she’d died. Memories flooded Gray Wing so powerfully that he could hardly breathe. Guilt seared his pelt. She had been killed by an eagle while she’d been hunting with him and Clear Sky. Between them, they’d let her die.
“I don’t know, Jagged Peak.” Rainswept Flower sounded doubtful. “I don’t think he’ll care what I have to say.”
“But you’ll think about it?” Jagged Peak coaxed.
“I’ll think about it,” Rainswept Flower conceded.
Their paw steps brushed the grass. Gray Wing pressed himself into the heather, until shadow swallowed him. Holding his breath, he stood like a stone while Jagged Peak and Rainswept Flower padded into camp. He waited until they’d settled in their nests, then waited some more. His thoughts whirled. Was Jagged Peak right? Had too much happened between him and Clear Sky for words to make any difference?
No! We are brothers! Nothing can change that. Surely, everything they’d been through must bind them tighter, not push them apart?
Gray Wing slid from the heather. Jagged Peak’s wrong… Clear Sky will listen to me.
Chapter 5
“Hurry up, Alder!” Clear Sky pounded down the slope. He leaped the ditch at the bottom and, landing smoothly, glanced over his shoulder.
Birch was galloping toward him, his small paws sending leaf litter flying. Alder raced behind, half-running, half-slithering down the slope, no bigger than a baby rabbit. She looked more like prey than a hunter.
She has to grow up sometime.
Clear Sky pushed on, climbing the rise beyond, pleasure pulsing beneath his fur. Petal had begged him not to take the kits out to train. Worry-worm! He had told her that, in the mountains, kits were fighting snowstorms by the time they were two moons old. He couldn’t let the forest make his cats soft.
“Birch! Help!” A small thud made Clear Sky turn.
Alder had disappeared.
Birch was leaning into the ditch, tugging something. With a grunt, he heaved his littermate out by her scruff and let go. “Are you okay?”
Alder scrambled to her paws and shook out her short, fluffy fur. “I’m fine.”
“Hurry up, you two!” Clear Sky rolled his eyes. Were they going to fall into every ditch between here and the big beech tree?
“Can we go slower?” Birch called up the slope.
Is that possible? “Slow cats get caught!” Clear Sky called back. He wasn’t going to indulge them. They’d have to toughen up. He turned and ran.
He was hardly out of breath by the time he reached the big beech. It towered above the other trees in this part of the forest. He stopped at its thick roots and waited for the kits to catch up. Above him, birds twittered in the bright green canopy. Beyond, sunlight glimmered.
Clear Sky pricked his ears impatiently. At last he heard small paws thrumming over the dry earth. A moment later, Birch and Alder hurtled from a clump of ferns and began scrambling up the slope toward him. Their pelts were slick against their bodies, scraped flat by ferns and brambles, their ears pressed to their head.
“We made it!” Birch stumbled, puffing, to a halt in front of Clear Sky.
Alder stopped a tail-length behind, her flanks heaving.
“You took your time.”
“We couldn’t run any faster,” Alder panted.
“Our legs aren’t as long as yours,” Birch pointed out.
“But you’re not carrying much weight,” Clear Sky countered. He padded around the kits as they struggled to get their breath back. “Not yet, anyway.” Was he being too hard on them? “If you keep training, one day you might be as strong as me.”
“Or stronger!” Birch stared at him, eyes bright.
Clear Sky grunted. “I doubt it.” He stopped and lifted his gaze. The warm season had wrapped the forest in a green haze. He flicked Birch’s spine with his tail-tip. “Wait here.”
“By himself?” Alder nosed past her brother.
“Of course!” Clear Sky thrust his muzzle close to hers, stifling a purr of amusement as she leaped back in surprise. “You’re coming with me. We’re going to play hide-and-seek.”
Alder blinked. “Hide-and-seek?”
Birch frowned. “I thought you were going to teach us fighting skills.”
“You think seeking isn’t a fighting skill?” Clear Sky dropped his mew to a whisper. “One day your enemies will hide when they hear you coming. You’ll need to know how to find them.”
Alder’s eyes grew round. “Are we going to hide while Birch waits here?”
“You’re a smart young kit.” Clear Sky lifted his nose to point at the sun where it dazzled through the branches. “Birch.” With a jerk of his muzzle, he motioned the young tom kit to follow his gaze. “When the sun has lifted to the next branch, come and look for us.”