Clear Sky’s whiskers quivered. He was enjoying watching this kittypet ingratiate himself. And it secretly pleased him to be called impressive. But Snake and this trespasser mustn’t know. He curled his lip. “Hurry home, kittypet. This is my forest.” He nodded toward the trees. “I don’t like cats in it, and I don’t like cats near it. Ask anyone. My name’s Clear Sky.”
Tom’s gaze strayed toward the trees. “Of course,” he purred. “I realize I am trespassing near your land. Please forgive me but I am only escorting my kits back to my housefolk.”
Snake leaned close. Clear Sky screwed up his face as the rogue’s stinking breath washed his nose. “Those aren’t his kits,” Snake hissed. “Look at them. They’re muscle and bone, like wild kits.”
“I know that!” Clear Sky nudged Snake sharply backward, his eyes fixed on the kittypet. “They don’t look like your kits. They’re not fat.”
Tom’s face hardened and malice glinted in his gaze.
Clear Sky stiffened with surprise. He stepped closer, hackles rising. “Whose kits are they?”
“Mine.” Tom met his gaze squarely. “They were taken from me. I’m returning them to their proper home with my housefolk.”
Clear Sky blinked, curiosity tugging in his belly. He ignored it. This was not his problem. If this kittypet wanted to steal wild kits, let him. So long as he didn’t steal from the forest cats. Besides, the kits huddling at Tom’s side weren’t complaining. The tabby tom-kit’s gaze caught his eye. It was strangely blank, as though he was observing, unimpressed.
“Go away.” Clear Sky stepped out of the path, and jerked his head toward Twolegplace. “And stay away.” The kits scurried past him, the gray tom and tortoiseshell watching him with wide, frightened eyes while the tabby tipped his head inquisitively.
“We won’t be back, I promise.” Tom shooed them onward, glancing at Clear Sky. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
Clear Sky puffed out his chest. “You see,” he growled to Snake. “That’s how you patrol territory. No bloodshed, but he understood who’s in charge around here. And he’ll tell his kittypet friends.”
He bounded toward the forest, relishing the cool shade of the trees as he slid beneath them. “Let’s head to camp. The other patrols should be back. I want to do some battle training before the end of the day.”
Snake hurried after him. “So you think there will be a battle?” He sounded eager.
“It sounds like my brother’s preparing for one.” Clear Sky lashed his tail. Why did he have to fight to keep what was his? Couldn’t Gray Wing respect his boundaries? He pushed harder against the cracked earth of the forest floor. There hadn’t been rain in days. The moor cats must be scorched beneath this relentless sun. Was that why they resented him taking the forest?
“Clear Sky!” Birch’s happy mew welcomed him as he raced past the brambles into camp.
Alder scrambled from beneath the yew. “You’re back!”
The kits’ eyes shone happily.
Clear Sky felt warmth flood beneath his pelt. It lasted a moment before regret pricked in its place. Would Thunder have run to him like this if he’d raised him? He pushed the thought away. It was too late. Thunder was Gray Wing’s cat now.
“Can we train?” Alder and Birch skipped around him while Snake padded to a prey pile and began to sift through the morning’s catch.
“You can watch,” Clear Sky told them. “The big cats are training today. I need you to stay out of the way. But learn as much as you can.”
A body thumped the ground beside him.
Clear Sky spun around.
Dew lay in the dirt, Thorn rearing over her, claws stretched. The skinny tom pulled back his lips and lunged.
Dew rolled out of the way, her gray pelt a blur, and leaped to her paws. She faced Thorn. A purr burst from her. “You thought you’d got me!”
Thorn lashed his tail, his eyes sparked good-humoredly. “One of these days your speed will fail you.”
Clear Sky padded between them. “Not if we train.” He scanned the clearing. Nettle was back from border patrol with Petal and Leaf. They lay, chewing prey, in the shade of the oak. Falling Feather paced beside Quick Water while she quietly groomed herself. Fircone rested beside the bramble, his chin on his paws, half-opened eyes fixed on Jackdaw’s Cry. The moor cat had hardly moved from the nest he’d built beside the holly bush. Falling Feather had kept her distance, but Clear Sky noticed how often her gaze strayed toward her littermate. Don’t forget the border that separates you now. Clear Sky shot her a look and she hesitated a moment before pacing again.
He lifted his muzzle. “It’s time we trained for battle!” At his call, the forest cats scrambled to their paws.
Clear Sky traced a wide circle in the clearing with his claw and stood at the center. “In this space, we fight with claws.”
Quick Water blinked. “Why harm each other?”
“We can’t risk injuries.” Leaf stepped forward. “We need to be fit and healthy in case there’s a battle.”
Clear Sky met his gaze, unblinking. “We have to know what it’s like to fight for our lives,” he growled. “If we only train to play fight, we’ll face battle no stronger than kits.”
Snake nodded. Thorn padded to join him. Their eyes lit.
“I’ll fight first,” Snake hissed.
Clear Sky looked around his cats, his gaze stopping on Falling Feather. “You can be his opponent.” He beckoned her into the ring.
“No!” Jackdaw’s Cry jumped up, his eyes sparking with fear. Clear Sky glared at him.
“It’s okay.” Falling Feather nodded to her brother. “I’ll face him.” She strode into the ring as Snake took his place opposite her. “What are we practicing?” she asked Clear Sky, not taking her gaze from Snake.
“Lie down,” Clear Sky told her.
She jerked her muzzle around. “What?”
She’s questioning me! He’d crush the arrogance from her. She had to be loyal. Her camp mates were relying on her. They must be able to trust her. “Lie on your back,” he ordered. Fear glittered in her gaze. Satisfaction rippled through his pelt.
Quick Water padded to the edge of the ring. “Clear Sky, what are you doing? She’ll be helpless on her back. Snake will hurt her.”
“If you fall in battle, you’re going to need to know how to get back on your paws,” Clear Sky told the she-cat. He looked back at Falling Feather. “Are you going to lie on your back, or does Snake have to put you there himself?”
Falling Feather gave a low hiss and settled onto her side. Watching Snake warily, she wriggled onto her spine.
Clear Sky turned, addressing the watching cats. “When Snake attacks, Falling Feather must get her hind claws under his chin. He’s bigger than she is, but if she uses her weight properly, she should be able to push him off.” He nodded to Snake. “Ready?”
Snake unsheathed his claws. “Ready.” He circled Falling Feather slowly, pacing around her with deliberate steps.
Falling Feather watched him, switching her head back and forth as he moved from one side to the other. Clear Sky could see her trembling. Fear would make her fight harder.
A low growl sounded in Jackdaw’s Cry’s throat. Clear Sky shot him a look. “You are here as our guest,” he growled. “Keep quiet.”
With a snarl, Snake lunged for Falling Feather’s throat. He moved fast. Falling Feather yowled as he sunk his claws into her neck. With a strangled cry, she writhed beneath him. Grunting, she heaved up her hindquarters, rolling her weight back onto her shoulders. Snake’s hind paws slipped as she shifted beneath him and she tucked in her hind legs, drawing them up and hooking her claws beneath Snake’s chin. With a snarl, she thrust him up and backward, sending him flying out of the ring. She leaped to her paws and dived after him, teeth bared.