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Gray Wing met Clear Sky’s cold gaze, trying to accept that it was the last time. Killing Fox was an accident, but Clear Sky will never believe that. What can I do but go and never come back?

But before Gray Wing could turn away, Storm stepped forward. Her belly was swollen and her movements slow; Gray Wing could see that she was near to kitting. She gave Fox’s body a regretful glance, then padded past him to confront Clear Sky.

“I’ve had enough,” she mewed. “I’m going back to live in the Twolegplace. There’ll be better shelter there for my kits when they’re born.”

Clear Sky’s eyes widened in shock. “Don’t be ridiculous. You need me to look after you.”

“That’s just what I don’t need,” Storm retorted. “You treat me like a helpless kit, and I’m sick of it. And I can’t bear the way you treat cats when they step over your so-called boundaries. You don’t have the right to tell cats where they can and can’t hunt. Fox would be alive now if it wasn’t for you throwing your weight around.”

For a moment Clear Sky was utterly dumbfounded.

In the silence, Storm turned to Gray Wing. “I’m sorry,” she meowed. “I should have understood all this when I saw how Clear Sky treated Jagged Peak.”

Dipping her head to Gray Wing, she gave Clear Sky a long, sorrowful look, then turned and padded off through the bracken.

Chapter 25

Gray Wing swung around urgently to face Clear Sky. “Go after her!” he pleaded. “Bring her back and help her raise your kits. She needs you!”

Clear Sky didn’t move, though there was sadness in his eyes as he watched Storm leave. “It’s no use,” he mewed. “I must put my community of cats first. If Storm can’t accept my decisions, then we can’t be together.”

“But don’t you love her?” Gray Wing protested.

“Of course I do. But she made her choice, and my future lies here.”

The anger in Clear Sky’s voice and expression had faded, replaced by an icy determination. Gray Wing realized that nothing was going to make him change his mind.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” Gray Wing meowed. “And I’m sorry about Fox. I didn’t mean to… but he attacked me first.”

“He was doing his duty.” Clear Sky turned to go, then glanced back. “How is Jagged Peak?”

Gray Wing felt a tiny spark of hope. “He is doing fine,” he replied. “Cloud Spots has worked out some exercises to strengthen his good legs. Jagged Peak complains all the time, but he does them.” Feeling slightly daring, he added, “Why don’t you come and visit him?”

For a heartbeat Clear Sky hesitated. Then he shook his head. “What’s past is past,” he mewed. “I can’t look back. I have responsibilities now, cats to protect, and that means I have to let Storm and Jagged Peak go.”

Gray Wing was disturbed by the intensity in Clear Sky’s blue eyes as he spoke. He sighed, accepting that Clear Sky had set his paws on this path, and nothing would make him turn back. “If you change your mind, you’re always welcome,” he told Clear Sky.

Though I wonder if that’s true, he added silently to himself. Would Tall Shadow welcome him into our camp? Would Jagged Peak?

Dipping his head to Clear Sky, he turned and headed back toward the moor.

The cold season clamped its claws onto the moor, freezing the streams and pools and turning the grass to thorns of ice. Hawk Swoop was huge with kits, and Gray Wing spent a morning helping Jackdaw’s Cry dig out a new, bigger den in the tunnels so that she would be sheltered from the cold winds when she gave birth.

“This is wonderful!” she sighed as she flopped down in the nest of moss and bracken the toms had prepared for her. “Now I can’t wait for the kits to be here.”

Gray Wing left her with Jackdaw’s Cry and went out into the open, feeling a cold breeze ruffle his fur. Seeing Hawk Swoop so close to kitting reminded him of Storm. She must have had her kits by now, he thought. It’s been a moon since she went back to the Twolegplace. I hope she’s okay. As soon as he had formed the words, he knew what he had to do.

He had to go and look for Storm.

The race across the moor warmed Gray Wing and left his heart pounding. When he reached the forest he chose a path that took him around Clear Sky’s camp in a wide circle. I’ve got to avoid trouble today. I’ve more important things to do than arguing with Clear Sky and his cats.

Gray Wing’s paws slowed as he reached the outskirts of the Twolegplace, but he made himself carry on. As he moved cautiously along the hard stone paths, he looked for landmarks that would take him to the den where Turtle Tail and Bumble lived.

They might know where Storm is staying now. And it will be good to see Turtle Tail again.

At first Gray Wing made good progress. He remembered a big den with a strong reek of monsters and rows of thick, weirdly colored tree trunks standing outside, and an open space with a stretch of grass and bushes and Twoleg kits running here and there and yowling.

But as Gray Wing turned the corner beside the open space, he heard a sudden flurry of barking. Whipping around, he saw a small black dog hurtling toward him.

Fear slammed into Gray Wing. He raced down the path with the dog hard on his paws. At the next corner, he knew he should cross the Thunderpath, but monsters were growling past in both directions, and if he stopped to wait for them the dog would catch him. Gray Wing rounded the corner and pelted on.

Moments later he knew that he was lost. Twoleg fences and dens passed him in a blur as he fled from the dog. Though he didn’t dare to pause and look back, he could hear its barking close behind him, and smell its rank scent.

Then Gray Wing darted around another corner and halted in dismay. The end of the path was closed off by a huge Twoleg den. There was no way out; it was as though he was trapped in a tunnel, with the dog at its mouth. With nothing else to do, he turned, bracing himself to fight.

The dog was bounding down the path toward him, its jaws gaping. But before it reached him, Gray Wing heard a voice above his head.

“Gray Wing! Up here!”

Gray Wing’s eyes widened in shock as he looked up and saw Turtle Tail, balancing on a ledge beneath a hole in the side of the Twoleg den. He bunched his muscles, and as the dog bore down on him he leaped. Turtle Tail leaned over, grabbing his scruff to help him scramble onto the ledge beside her.

“Thanks!” Gray Wing gasped.

The dog stood just underneath, yapping in annoyance.

“Shove off, flea-pelt,” Turtle Tail meowed, then added to Gray Wing, “This way.”

Jumping from the ledge to the top of a wall, Turtle Tail led the way past several Twoleg dens until the wall came to an end and she had to leap down onto a stretch of smooth grass.

“It’s such a surprise to see you!” she exclaimed, her eyes shining as Gray Wing jumped down beside her. “It’s so great that you came to visit me and Bumble.”

Gray Wing gave his shoulder an embarrassed lick. “Actually, I’m looking for Storm,” he admitted.

Though Turtle Tail didn’t move, the light died from her eyes. “Oh,” she mewed flatly.

“I know she came back to the Twolegplace,” Gray Wing continued, aware that somehow he was saying the wrong thing, but needing to discover anything Turtle Tail could tell him. “Have you seen her? Do you know where she’s living now?”

Turtle Tail seemed reluctant to answer, scuffling the grass with her paws. “I’m not sure—”

“Of course we know!” A new voice joined in, and Gray Wing looked up to see Bumble sitting on the fence at the opposite side of the stretch of grass. The plump tortoiseshell plopped down and padded over to join them. “Don’t you remember, Turtle Tail? Storm went to live in that old monster den.”