“Stop!” Clear Sky ordered sharply.
She froze and turned.
He nodded to the line he’d drawn in the earth. Her paws were outside it. “No teeth or claws beyond the ring,” he reminded her.
Blood stained her neck fur. “But he hurt me.”
“And you fought like a fox to defend yourself.” Pride pressed in Clear Sky’s chest. “You’ll remember the lesson in battle. Your enemies will meet you only once in combat; the next time they’ll run when they see you.”
He nodded Leaf and Thorn toward the ring. “Your turn now,” he growled. “Don’t forget: use your claws.”
By the time each cat had trained in the ring, the earth was spattered with blood, and clumps of fur drifted across the clearing.
Clear Sky nodded approvingly to his cats. “Well done.”
Quick Water rubbed a cut on her muzzle with her paw. Leaf lapped at a wound in his flank. Yet their eyes shone. Every one of the forest cats moved with pride. They had proven to themselves and to each other that, even when they seemed beaten, they could fight off an enemy, no matter how dangerous.
Clear Sky padded to the prey pile. “You must all be hungry.” He plucked a thrush from the top and tossed it to Thorn, then hurled a mouse to Petal. One by one, he threw food to his cats and they took it. Nodding gratefully, they settled down to eat.
“What about me?” Jackdaw’s Cry climbed from his nest.
Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. “We hunted this prey, not you.” Why should they share the forest’s riches with a moor cat?
Falling Feather stepped forward. “You promised Thunder you’d keep him safe and well fed.”
Clear Sky grunted. “I told Thunder what he wanted to hear. It was up to him to believe me.”
Jackdaw’s Cry crossed the clearing and headed for the bramble opening. “I’ll hunt my own food then,” he snarled.
“Not on my territory,” Clear Sky snapped.
Jackdaw’s Cry spun around. “Then I’ll hunt on the moor!”
“You’ll stay here,” Clear Sky growled, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “Or the meeting is off.”
Quick Water looked up from the shrew she’d been given. “It’s two more days till the meeting! He’ll starve.”
“No cat ever starved in two days.” Clear Sky whipped his tail behind him. Cats took moons to starve. He’d seen it with his own eyes, back in the mountains.
Muttering angrily, Jackdaw’s Cry slunk back to his nest.
Dumb moor cats. Anger pulsed beneath Clear Sky’s pelt. Always expecting more than they deserve.
He stalked from the camp, furious that Jackdaw’s Cry had sullied the pleasure he’d felt from the training session. He headed instinctively for the meadow border. He felt sure the kittypet would be gone, but he wanted to check. He’d trusted cats before. He’d been wrong. As he reached the edge of the forest and felt midday heat rolling from the sun-drenched wetlands, he tasted the air. The kittypet scent was stale but a fresher smell tainted it. One he recognized.
Thunder!
Racing forward, he burst from the trees.
He could see his son’s orange pelt moving through the long grass. He bounded toward him. “What are you doing, sniffing at my borders?” He stopped in front of Thunder, ears flat.
Thunder lifted his head. “I’m not on your territory.” He was tasting the air, distracted.
Rage pulsed in Clear Sky’s belly. “Stay away from my land!”
The grass swished beside him. A black tom slid out. “Have you found anything—” He stopped as he saw Clear Sky. “We haven’t crossed the border,” he snapped defensively.
“Then why are you here?”
Thunder gazed across the grass. “We’re looking for someone.”
Clear Sky sniffed Lightning Tail. His scent was familiar. Was this one of Jackdaw’s Cry’s kits? “Have you come looking for your father?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Thunder turned on him. “Turtle Tail’s kits have gone missing, okay? We’re looking for them. Have you seen them?”
Lightning Tail leaned forward. “Or Turtle Tail?”
Clear Sky flattened his ears and turned away from them, muttering: “Perhaps these kits belong with their father.”
“Really?” Thunder snarled. “Is that why you sent me away? Twice?”
Clear Sky could see Thunder’s hackles rising. “I did the best for you!”
“Thanks,” Thunder sneered.
Lightning Tail padded through the grass, tail twitching above the long stems. “We should keep on looking.” He gazed across the meadow.
Thunder was still staring at Clear Sky. “Have you seen them?” he repeated.
“No!” Why should I help you and your dumb friends? If Turtle Tail had lost her kits, it served her right. He thought of Alder and Birch waiting in the hollow and how they’d run to him, eyes shining when he arrived back at camp. They’d never wander off with a strange cat. They wanted to be with him. Thunder had only ever wanted to be with Gray Wing. That was clear now.
“Stay off my land!” Lashing his tail, he turned his back and stalked into the forest.
Chapter 12
Had Clear Sky really not seen the kits? Thunder thought he had recognized something shifty in his father’s gaze. But perhaps it was unease at meeting Lightning Tail; after all, he was holding Jackdaw’s Cry hostage. Either way, Thunder knew that Clear Sky would not help and he wasn’t going to waste his breath asking.
A maple sprouted, tall and solitary, in the middle of the meadow. “Let’s try over there for scents.” Lightning Tail headed toward it. “The kits might have rested in the shade.”
Thunder followed as Lightning Tail wove through the grass. The stems grew thicker, the soil beneath his paws turning to marsh so that he was splashing through shallow water by the time they reached the maple. He was relieved that the ground rose above its roots so that it formed an island in the wide, wet meadow. He shook the water from his paws. “Any sign?”
Lightning Tail was sniffing the base of the tree. “Cat scent!” He whisked his tail excitedly.
Thunder darted forward to sniff the bark. Disappointment dropped like a stone in his belly. “It’s a rogue she-cat.” Not kittypet, or moor cat.
“Maybe the rogue saw them,” Lightning Tail suggested hopefully. “If we can find her, we can ask her.”
Thunder stretched up onto his hind legs and scanned the meadow. There was no sign of another cat, even though the scents around the tree were fresh. He sighed heavily and dropped onto all fours. “Too late. She’s not around here anymore.”
“Are you sure?” A mew sounded above their heads.
Thunder jerked back his muzzle and stared up into the fluttering leaves.
An orange face peered back. A tabby she-cat was crouched on a branch. “I’ve been watching you sniffing your way around the meadow for ages,” she mocked gently. “You didn’t even know I was here. I’m surprised you can find your own tails in the morning.”
“Have you seen three kits?” Thunder was too worried to respond to her teasing. “They were probably with a kittypet. A tom.”
The she-cat scrambled down the trunk and landed lightly beside him. “I’m Swift.” She introduced herself, tail high, circling Thunder and Lightning Tail.
Thunder’s pelt itched with frustration. “Have you seen them?”
Swift shrugged. “Yes, but why are you looking for them?”