“Will you let the others know where I’ve gone?” she asked. “I’m too embarrassed to make a big scene.”
“Of course I will,” Gray Wing replied.
“And I’ll visit!” Turtle Tail sounded as though she had to force herself to sound cheerful. “Don’t worry!”
She brushed her tail down Gray Wing’s side, then spun around and raced toward the Twoleg dens. Gray Wing watched her out of sight. He felt empty, as if something precious had gone out of his life.
Things are changing all the time, he thought as he trudged away from the Twolegplace. Every cat needs to choose their own destiny—and mine is with Storm, the way Turtle Tail’s is in the Twolegplace. Determination swelled inside him. I’ll ask Storm to come and live in the hollow. Tall Shadow will understand if Storm’s my mate.
For a while he padded alongside the river, but when he came to the huge rocks he turned to follow the stream that flowed into the main current. Excitement tingled through his paws as he imagined what it would be like to have Storm beside him, hunting, exploring, resting together in the shelter of their nest. When the time was right, they would even have kits together.
A flash of silver in the undergrowth alerted him and he halted as Storm came into view, a beautiful sheen of sunlight on her silver tabby pelt.
“Gray Wing!” she called, quickening her pace. “I was looking for you.”
Delight like warm sunshine spread through Gray Wing. “I was looking for you, too,” he told her. “I have something I want to say.”
Storm’s green eyes were troubled. “There’s something I have to tell you too,” she announced. She hesitated, then went on, “I’m going to live with Clear Sky.”
Shock ripped through Gray Wing, as cruel as a fox’s claws. “Why would you do that?”
Storm’s whiskers twitched. “I’ve seen a lot of him since that first time,” she explained. “We sort of…”
Gray Wing suddenly understood. “Oh, right,” he meowed. “Well, that’s great.”
Storm drew closer, her sweet scent washing over him. “I’m so sorry, Gray Wing,” she murmured. “I wish things were different, but…” Taking a pace back, she added, “We’ll still see each other. The forest isn’t that big!”
She turned and padded away, her tail waving gracefully. Gray Wing dug his claws into the ground and clamped his jaws shut so as not to utter a word. Storm had made her choice, and it wasn’t him. Gray Wing had never felt so alone in his life.
Maybe I owe my brother this, he thought as he tried to make sense of what was happening. It was because of me that Bright Stream died, and now I have a second chance to make Clear Sky happy.
Chapter 22
Gray Wing loped across the moor toward the trees. Cold claws of wind penetrated his fur and the grass under his paws was stiff with frost. The cold season was coming again.
Ahead of him the green mass of the forest was blotched with brown and yellow and russet. As Gray Wing drew closer the wind whirled dead leaves into his face. Under the outlying branches he spotted Rainswept Flower, leaping and bounding to and fro, her paws outstretched as she tried to catch the leaves before they reached the ground.
Gray Wing halted to watch her. “Having fun?” he asked after a few moments.
Rainswept Flower spun around and stood blinking in embarrassment, her forepaws scuffling the ground. “Well… er… it’s good exercise,” she mewed.
Gray Wing let out a sympathetic purr. “The forest is changing so much. All these colors… and the leaves falling. It was never like this in the mountains.”
“We didn’t have trees like these,” Rainswept Flower agreed.
She leaped into a drift of leaves in a hollow among the roots of a tree. Scrambling up with bits of leaf sticking to her pelt, she let out a yowl of delight. “I love the crunching sound they make!”
Gray Wing’s paws itched to try, though he knew he needed to keep hunting. Just then, Jackdaw’s Cry appeared through the trees, his tail twitching and his eyes sparking with anger.
“What’s wrong?” Gray Wing asked, padding up to him.
“I just tried to visit Falling Feather,” the black tom growled. “But some cat I’ve never set eyes on before turned me away. He said Clear Sky didn’t want any cat in that part of the forest.”
“That’s flea-brained!” Rainswept Flower exclaimed. “Didn’t you tell him Falling Feather is your sister?”
“Of course I did,” Jackdaw’s Cry replied. “It didn’t do any good. He just showed me his claws… and he was a lot bigger than me.”
“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” Gray Wing meowed, remembering how Fox had halted him on the way to his brother’s new home. “Clear Sky would never stop any of us from visiting.”
Jackdaw’s Cry let out a grunt of annoyance. “Then he should make sure his cats know that.”
Gray Wing thought for a moment. “I’ll go and see what’s happening down there,” he decided. “I haven’t been to Clear Sky’s part of the forest for a long time.” And I haven’t seen Storm in over two moons.
He plunged into the trees until he met the stream, then followed it down toward the hollow where his brother lived. As he veered along the track that led to Clear Sky’s home, he picked up a number of mingled cat scents, some of which were new to him.
Clear Sky must be gathering more rogues to live with him.
He was drawing close to the clearing when two cats stepped out of the undergrowth and blocked his way. One was Fox, the other a vaguely familiar white tom; Gray Wing realized he was one of the rogues who had attacked Storm. The yellow she-cat, Petal, was sitting on an old stump a couple of tail-lengths away.
“What are you doing here?” the white tom demanded roughly.
Gray Wing bit back an angry reply. “I’ve come to visit Clear Sky.”
“He’s Clear Sky’s brother,” Fox put in. “But that doesn’t give him the right to hang around here anytime he feels like it.”
“Well, that’s a good excuse,” the white tom sneered. “I think you’ve come to steal our prey,” he added to Gray Wing.
“How is it ‘your’ prey?” Gray Wing’s neck fur began to bristle up as anger started to build inside him like a gathering storm cloud. “It’s not yours just because it’s near where you live. Prey is for every cat.”
“Well, Clear Sky doesn’t see it that way,” Fox snarled, sliding out his claws. “I think you’d better shove off, before we make you.”
Gray Wing hesitated, wondering what to do. I can’t fight both of them!
“Now,” the white tom growled, taking a pace forward so that he stood nose to nose with Gray Wing.
“What’s going on?” The clear meow came from behind Gray Wing; he felt it like the touch of cool water on a hot day. He turned to see Storm. “Hello,” she continued, with a friendly nod. “It’s good to see you again.”
Gray Wing dipped his head, hardly knowing what to say to her.
Before he could find words, the white tom turned to Storm. “This rogue was stealing our prey,” he explained.
“Really?” Storm mewed cuttingly. “I don’t see him carrying any prey, do you? I don’t smell any prey-scent on him. Could it be that you’re just a pair of crow-food-eating flea-brains?”
“We’re only doing our job,” Fox protested.
Storm rolled her eyes. “This is Clear Sky’s brother, Gray Wing. You’ve met him before, Fox, and you, Petal,” she added to the she-cat, who was trying to look as if she wasn’t involved with any of this. “He can visit Clear Sky any time he likes. Come on, Gray Wing.”