Birch drew himself up. “Okay.”
“Come on, Alder.” Clear Sky bounded down the slope. “Let’s find somewhere he’ll never think of looking.”
“Do you already know somewhere?” Her paws pattered over the leaves.
“Hush! We mustn’t give him clues.” He slowed his pace. She’d need some energy left for the next part of the training session. He crossed a dry streambed, followed a swath of brambles, and headed into a dip crowded with ferns. Climbing out the other side, he zigzagged among the trees until he reached a ridge. A clearing lay beyond. He’d picked it out the day before for training. The ground was clear; the slender birch trees that encircled it were widely spaced.
“There’s nowhere to hide here!” Alder caught him up and stared around the bare clearing. “Why didn’t we stop in the ferns?”
“Pick a tree, and crouch behind it,” Clear Sky ordered. “When Birch comes, you’ll need space to attack him.”
Alder blinked at him. “Attack him? I thought we were playing hide-and-seek.”
“We’re training, remember?” Why is she arguing?
“I won’t do it.” Alder dug her paws into the crumbly earth. “You didn’t warn Birch.”
“He needs to learn!” Clear Sky snapped, swallowing back an angry hiss.
“It’s not fair.” Alder stared with round eyes. “He won’t be ready for it.” Was she trembling? “It feels wrong.”
She’s brave. He couldn’t help feeling a prick of admiration for the kit. It took courage to argue with her leader. But she had a lot of growing up to do. “I know your instinct tells you that cats stalk their enemy, that they don’t hide and jump out at them. But times are changing. We must learn to outgrow instincts that don’t help us anymore.” He padded around her. “In battles, it won’t always be the strongest cats with the sharpest claws who survive.”
Alder glanced down at her small paws.
Clear Sky went on. “The smartest cats with the fastest moves will have the best chance at victory. Your instincts might tell you that these tactics aren’t honorable. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned since I came down from the mountains, honor means nothing to the dead.” He stopped and leaned closer. “We must stay ahead of our enemies.”
Alder swallowed. “Do we have enemies?”
Clear Sky swished his tail and padded toward a birch trunk. “Every cat who wants to take prey from our land is an enemy. Learn what I teach you and you’ll be safe.” He climbed onto a root, and sat down. “Birch will be on his way soon. You’d better pick a tree to hide behind. But first—” He scanned the forest floor until he spotted a dip in the earth still wet with morning dew. “Roll yourself in that mud.” He jerked his nose toward it.”
Alder sniffed. “Why?”
“To disguise your scent.” Couldn’t she guess? “Otherwise Birch will smell you the moment he reaches the clearing.”
Alder stopped beside the muddy dip and wrinkled her nose. “It smells of rotting leaves.”
“Good.” Clear Sky idly scraped a strip of bark from the root. “Get rolling.”
Screwing up her eyes, Alder padded into the mud and lay down. She wriggled on her back, flopping from side to side like a stranded fish, then leaped to her paws. “I stink!”
“But you’ve lost your scent,” Clear Sky reminded her. “Now pick a tree to hide behind.” He glanced at the sky. The sun had moved. Would Birch be on his way yet? Training kits was slow work. But it would be worth it. “Hurry up!” Alder was turning in circles behind a birch stem, her ears flicking. “You should be in position by now.”
Her fur rippled along her mud-slicked spine. She padded uneasily to the next truck and sniffed the roots, then twisted suddenly and dug her nose into her flank as though she were chasing a flea.
“What’s wrong?” Clear Sky bit back anger. “Just hide, will you?”
“But my pelt feels weird with all this gunk on it.”
Clenching his teeth, Clear Sky hopped from the root and padded toward her. “Crouch here.” He jabbed a claw into a gap between two roots. “Stay low so Birch won’t see you.”
She squirmed onto her belly between the roots. “It still feels wrong,” she muttered. “He thinks we’re playing hide-and-seek and you want me to attack him.”
“I want to see if you can surprise him.” Irritation itched beneath Clear Sky’s pelt.
“I could surprise him without smelling like rotten leaves.” She pressed her belly to the floor until she looked like another muddy root sticking up from the earth.
“If Birch was a real enemy, smelling like rotten leaves might be the best weapon you have.”
“But he’s not a real enemy.” She sat up straight, destroying her camouflage.
Clear Sky stiffened with frustration.
“Why can’t all the cats just be friends?” Alder asked. “Just because we live in different places doesn’t mean we have to fight.”
Stop arguing! Before he could stop himself, Clear Sky swiped a paw at her. He sheathed his claws a moment before he struck her ear, but she staggered from the fierceness of the blow and tripped over a root. “No cat wants to fight,” he growled. “But we have to survive! It’s better to train for a battle that never comes, than to die in one you aren’t prepared for.” Rage churned in his belly. “All I’m trying to do is make sure you can win if you have to fight!”
Alder scrambled to her paws and backed away. Her ear twitched where he’d hit it.
“Don’t look so scared!” Clear Sky forced his hackles smooth. He hopped over the root and landed in front of her. She froze like a rabbit and stared up at him, trembling as he touched his muzzle to her head. “I’m sorry, okay? But you’ll understand when you grow up and have kits of your own to protect. A good leader will do whatever it takes to keep his cats safe.”
As he spoke, a dog’s bark rang through the trees. Alder ducked out from beneath him, her ears swiveling as the dog barked again. “It’s coming from the big beech!” Her eyes glittered with terror. “Birch is there by himself!”
She hared away from Clear Sky and hurtled across the forest floor.
Clear Sky pelted after her, showering leaves behind as he pounded between the trees. He pulled past Alder, thundering up the slope as the forest rose ahead.
“Save him!” Alder’s squeal rang behind.
Through the ferns, past the bramble and over the dry streambed, Clear Sky ran, ears flattened against the dog’s barking. It was frenzied now, as though it had spotted prey.
Clear Sky’s heart seemed to burst as he pelted on. The ground trembled beneath his paws. A flash of brown fur showed on the slope ahead. The dog!
Large and broad shouldered, it thumped toward the big beech. Its teeth glistened as it barked with excitement.
“Birch!” Clear Sky hissed the kit’s name. Where is he?
The dog was circling the beech now, its wild eyes staring up. It gave a long, full-throated bark that rose into a gleeful howl.
Clear Sky slowed, following the dog’s excited gaze.
Clinging to the trunk, a few tail-lengths above the dog’s muzzle, was Birch. Brown-and-white pelt bushed, eyes wide with terror, the kit pressed himself hard against the bark.
Clear Sky stopped, his heart lurching as the dog leaped, drool flying as it clamped its teeth shut a whisker beneath Birch’s tail.
“It’ll kill him!” Alder’s horrified shriek took Clear Sky by surprise. She skidded to a halt at his side. “You have to save him.”
Clear Sky hesitated. He couldn’t fight the dog head-on. He’d be killed. It was bigger than a badger. As he stared, his mind whirling, a desperate yowl sounded through the trees. Pale fur flashed at the edge of his vision.