Path of Stars (10 page)

Blinking in the darkness, he pricked his ears and listened. He stiffened as an owl's hoot echoed across the stretch of marshland. Wings fluttered far above his head, and the owl swooped, dipping over the boggy land, silent as it glided across the grass. Gray Wing watched it as it pulled up. It seemed to stall, turning its wings to slow itself and stretching out its claws. The shriek of prey cut through the air as the owl grabbed something and lifted into the sky, tracing a long, slow circle against the dark night as it headed back to the trees. Gray Wing strained his neck, following the owl with his gaze, his belly rumbling as he glimpsed a small shape wriggling in its claws. As the owl disappeared among the branches overhead, the grass below Gray Wing rustled.

Gray Wing snapped his head around, pelt bristling. A shape was moving up the slope toward him. He drew back into the hazel thicket, pressing his belly to the ground, and unsheathed his claws.

“Gray Wing!”

His heart seemed to burst with relief as he recognized Fern's mew. Two green eyes flashed at him through the darkness. He began to slide out of his hiding place, hesitating suddenly. Was this a trap? He glanced beyond Fern, scanning the slope for other shapes. Then he tasted the air, frustrated as the stench of rotting ink caps bathed his tongue.

Fern snorted. “You smell foul,” she hissed as she stopped a tail-length from the hazel thicket. “It was the stink that woke me up. I guessed it was you. We don't get many walking mushrooms around here.”

“Are you alone?” Gray Wing breathed, hoping he could still trust her.

“Of course I'm alone!” Her mew was indignant. “Do you think I risked my pelt just to betray you now?” Her eyes flashed with anger.

Gray Wing slid out of the thicket and stopped in front of her. “I'm sorry,” he breathed. “It's just that I don't like coming here.”

“You should try living here,” she grunted.

“Why don't you leave if you hate it?” Gray Wing stared in wonder at the young she-cat.

“I would if I thought there was anywhere safe from Slash.” She glanced over her shoulder, then slunk past Gray Wing
and headed deeper into the copse. She led him to a clearing beyond the hazel thickets. “The farther away we are from camp the better,” she whispered. “If your stink woke
me
up, it might wake up someone else.”

“I was trying to disguise my scent.” Gray Wing's pelt felt hot with embarrassment.

“It worked,” Fern snorted. “You smell worse than a badger.”

“At least I found you,” Gray Wing pointed out. “I thought I was going to have to wait.”

“Smelling like death is a great signal,” Fern muttered. “But you might want to tone it down a bit next time.” She blinked at him through the darkness. “Why are you here?”

“I need information,” he told her.

“What about?” Fern tipped her head to one side. “You rescued Star Flower, didn't you?” She leaned closer. “Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

“Has she had her kits yet?”

Gray Wing's tail bristled as he remembered the traumatic escape. “Yes. Two she-kits and a tom.”

Fern purred. “I'm glad. I wish I could tell Juniper and Willow. They've been worried about her.”

Gray Wing frowned, confused. “Who are Juniper and Willow?”

“Just campmates.” Fern shrugged.

“Why do they care about Star Flower and her kits?” They'd helped hold her captive, hadn't they?

Fern lifted her chin indignantly. “We're not all fox-hearts, you know!”

Gray Wing shifted his paws, even more confused. “Then why do you stay with Slash?”

Fern narrowed her eyes. “Why do
you
give him your prey?”

“He steals it!”

“Why not fight for it?” Fern pressed.

“He . . .” Gray Wing hesitated. He didn't want to admit that Slash's rogues outnumbered them.

“Slash knows how to make other cats do what he wants,” Fern growled. “If you go against Slash, you take a big risk. It's easier to go along with whatever he says.”

“But you could
leave
.”

“I tried that, remember?” Fern glared at him. “I couldn't sleep at night. Every time I heard a rustle in the brambles, I thought it was Slash coming to get me. He doesn't like disloyalty.”

Gray Wing stared at her, his heart twisting as he realized what a huge risk she was taking just by talking to him.

She went on. “He also doesn't like it when his plans are ruined. He's been all wound up since you rescued Star Flower. He keeps going on about making you all pay.”

“We guessed,” Gray Wing growled darkly. “He's been stealing our prey again.”

“I know.” Fern dropped her gaze. “I've never eaten so well.”

“We're going hungry.”

Fern stared at him, her eyes widening with worry. “He won't stop, you know. Not until he's driven you out.”

“No one's driving us out,” Gray Wing growled.

“Are you going to fight him?

“If we have to.” Gray Wing held her gaze. “But we need to know how many cats we face.”

Fern glanced away.

“I understand if you don't want to help us.” Gray Wing guessed that she was scared of telling him anything that would make her campmates vulnerable. “But if we just had some idea of how many we were fighting . . .”

Fern turned back, her gaze intent. “If you stood up to Slash, some of us might stand up to him too.”

“Really?” Gray Wing's pelt prickled with hope. “Do you think your campmates would actually help fight him?”

Fern drew away. “It's hard to say. He has some loyal friends, but a lot of us think it was cruel to hold Star Flower in her condition. He risked the lives of unborn kits. A cat who'd do that is capable of anything. We're scared to stay but even more scared to leave. Who knows what he'd do if he ever found us again?”

“Will
you
fight with us?” Gray Wing pressed.

Fern looked away. “I can't promise anything. Slash is powerful. And he's hungry for revenge. Standing up to him means risking our lives. None of us want to die.”

Gray Wing's heart sank. “Especially for cats you've never met.”

Fern glanced up at him. “I wish I could promise to help you, but I can't even do that. I just wanted you to know that Slash may not be as powerful as he thinks.”

“I understand.” Gray Wing wished he could persuade this young cat to leave with him. He felt sure he could keep her safe. But it wasn't enough for him to believe it.
She
needed to believe it too.

Fern was gazing at him with frightened eyes. “If your groups fight together, you'll outnumber us,” she confessed. “But Slash is determined and cruel, and he will make us pay for cowardice and disloyalty with our own blood. If there is a battle, it will be a hard one. Slash will fight to the death, and he'll expect us to do the same.”

“What if we just waited?” Gray Wing suggested hopefully. “Do you think he might move on?”

Fern snorted. “Slash enjoys his anger. He'll hold on to it for as long as it makes him feel powerful and he gets your prey.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think he
wants
a battle, and if stealing your prey doesn't make you fight him, he'll find another way to start it.” She shrugged apologetically. “Either way, you're going to lose.”

“Not if some of your campmates join us.”

“I can't promise that. If it looks like a battle you can't win, none of us will dare join you.”

The owl hooted again.

Fern's tail quivered. “I should get back. If anyone notices I'm missing, they'll want to know where I've been.”

Gray Wing gazed at her. “Come with me.”

She shook her head. “I have kin here who will suffer if I leave.”

Gray Wing blinked. “Why would
your kin
suffer?”

“He'll blame my sister for my disloyalty.” Fern turned to leave. “Be careful, Gray Wing. Slash is determined to make you pay.”

“What for?” Helplessness swamped Gray Wing.

Fern stared at him blankly. “For being happy, I guess.”

He watched her disappear between the trees.
Is that how our groups seem to Slash? Happy
? He thought of the hollow on the moor and his nest. Slate would be there, staring into the darkness as she waited for his return. A purr rumbled softly in his throat. He couldn't imagine any cat waiting hopefully for Slash. His campmates lived in fear of him. He stole to feel powerful. No cat who lived like that could be happy.

Gray Wing wove between the willows, quickening his pace as he slipped from the copse and began to cross the marshland. Breaking into a run, he raced for the pines, relieved to slip into their shadow. He skirted Tall Shadow's camp and headed for the moor. His chest tightened with every step. But he had to get home. Slate would be worried. Ignoring his wheezing, he pushed on. Anger surged beneath his pelt. Why couldn't he
breathe
?

It must be the cold night air,
he reasoned. With a sudden pang, he longed for the days when he could race from forest to moor and back again with ease.

By the time he reached the hollow, he was struggling for every breath. He slowed as he crossed the grass outside the entrance. He wanted to catch his breath before he padded into camp. He glanced at the forest behind him. The treetops were turning pink beneath the rising sum.

“Gray Wing!” Slate's call took him by surprise. She darted from the camp and wove around him, purring loudly. “I was so worried.”

“I told you I'd be okay,” he puffed.

“You need to rest.” Slate began to guide him into camp.

“I have to talk to Wind Runner first.” He struggled to speak.

“Did you find Fern?”

“Yes.” He headed for Wind Runner's den.

The brown she-cat slid out as he neared, her eyes bright. “What did she say?”

“She . . .” Gray Wing stopped, panting for air.

“Wait until you get your breath back,” Wind Runner ordered.

Gray Wing sat down, feeling the moments pass as he willed his chest to loosen.

Slate settled beside him, her eyes clouding with worry. Wind Runner paced around them, the fur pricking around her neck.

At last, Gray Wing found breath enough to speak. “Fern says that if the groups join together, we'll outnumber them. And she says that Slash's campmates fear him. They might not fight for him if there was a battle.”

Wind Runner's eyes lit up. “Then we can beat him?”

Gray Wing shook his head. “She couldn't promise that they'd betray him. They're scared of him, and with good reason
.
Slash is out for revenge, and he's dangerous. We need to be on guard.”

Slate pressed against Gray Wing. “Is he going to
attack
?”

“She said he might,” Gray Wing told her. “We must have patrols watching the camp at all times. We need to be prepared for anything.”

Wind Runner glanced toward the camp entrance. “I'll post guards day and night.”

“I'll take first watch.” Slate blinked at her eagerly.

Wind Runner shook her head. “You've been up all night waiting.” Her gaze moved to Gray Wing. “You both need to rest. Spotted Fur can stand guard.” She flicked her tail toward Gray Wing's nest. “Go and get some sleep.”

Grateful, Gray Wing heaved himself to his paws. Slate pressed against him as he padded to their nest. The heather felt fresh as he climbed inside. “Did you line it while I was gone?” he asked.

“I knew you'd be tired when you got home, and I wanted you to have somewhere comfortable to rest.”

Gray Wing purred as he curled up in the soft heather. Slate climbed in after him and snuggled down beside him.

Exhausted, Gray Wing closed his eyes, relieved to feel Slate's warmth against him. For a moment he pitied Slash. No cat that cruel could have felt love like this. Then his pity gave way to anger. Why did Slash want to make others suffer? His mind began to drift as tiredness pulled him toward sleep. Images of the moor, bright with heather, flashed in his mind. His thoughts jumbled; the pink heather turned red with blood as Gray Wing slipped into troubled dreams.

Clear Sky scuffed at the leaves
that had drifted into the crook of an oak root. He sniffed their moldy scent, and his heart sank. Not even a trace of fresh prey. He glanced at Sparrow Fur, who was wriggling her way beneath a bramble. “Any sign of prey over there?” he called. Sparrow Fur backed out, whipping her tail free as it snagged on a thorn. She sat up and stared at Clear Sky. “All I can smell are rotting leaves.”

Clear Sky frowned. “Me too.” He glanced over to where they'd hidden the scrawny rabbit they'd caught earlier. It was hardly enough to feed one cat, let alone the whole group.

Sparrow Fur shook out her pelt. “We should have brought Blossom and Acorn Fur.”

“I want the camp well guarded,” Clear Sky reminded her. “Besides, more hunters leave more scent. They might have frightened the prey away.”

Sparrow Fur snorted. “
What
prey?”

Clear Sky didn't answer. She was right. They had been out since dawn, and now the sun was shining high above the trees, against a cloudless sky. He wondered if Star Flower had let the kits leave the den. They had been begging to explore the camp,
but they were still so small. And he wanted to be there when they took their first steps beyond the nest. He had almost sent Thorn hunting with Sparrow Fur and stayed behind. It had been hard enough leaving Star Flower and the kits the night before for the meeting at the four trees hollow. He longed to be with them now. But he was the group's leader. He couldn't stay in his den and let his campmates do every patrol.

“Clear Sky! Look!” Sparrow Fur hissed under her breath.

He jerked his muzzle toward her. The tortoiseshell she-cat was staring at a patch of dry ferns a tree-length away. He followed her gaze. A fat squirrel was sifting through the leaves with its forepaws. After scrabbling deep, it dragged up a nut and began to inspect it.

Clear Sky's heart leaped. He dropped into a hunting crouch. Leaves rustled softly as Sparrow Fur tiptoed to his side.

“You head to that side of the beech,” he told her, jerking his muzzle to show her the way. “I'll take the other. We mustn't let it escape.”

Sparrow Fur nodded and began to slowly creep forward, her belly fur skimming the ground.

Clear Sky's pelt prickled with excitement. The warm scent of squirrel filled his nose. His belly growled with hunger as he slunk forward. Tail down and spine low, he moved as silently as a snake, placing his paws on the dampest leaves so no crunch would betray his approach.

He felt for the breeze with his ear tips, relieved when he found he was upwind of his quarry. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sparrow Fur's tail as she disappeared around
the other side of the beech. He skirted the roots, veering wide. Whichever way the squirrel ran, they'd catch it.

A twig cracked. Clear Sky tensed. Sparrow Fur must have crushed it beneath her paw. The squirrel straightened, snapping its head one way, then the other. Panic flashed in its eyes, and it darted forward.

As Sparrow Fur pelted after it, excitement surged beneath Clear Sky's pelt. He leaped, kicking out leaves behind him. The ground blurred beneath him as he hared after the squirrel. It was racing for the base of an oak. It bobbed over the jutting roots and shot upward.

Clear Sky jumped, throwing his forepaws up. He unsheathed his claws and hooked them into the squirrel's pelt, plucked it from the bark before it could escape his reach, and dragged it to the ground. Ducking quickly, he gave it a killing bite. Its spine crunched between his jaws. The sweet warmth of blood bathed his tongue as the squirrel fell limp.

Thank you.
He was grateful to the forest. He would have enough prey for Star Flower and more to share with the others.

“Great catch.” Sparrow Fur was panting. She stared at the squirrel, her eyes shining.

“Let's collect the rabbit and take our catch back to camp,” Clear Sky decided.

“Okay.” Sparrow Fur licked her lips, still gazing at the squirrel.

“Do you want to carry it?” Clear Sky pawed it toward her. She'd been hunting all morning. She deserved a taste of blood
on her tongue before they reached camp.

Sparrow Fur purred, hooking the squirrel between her jaws. Lifting her head, she trotted away, the squirrel's bushy tail trailing behind her.

Clear Sky followed. The group could share the squirrel, and Star Flower could have the rabbit to herself. It was small, but it would be enough. She needed prey to stay strong. Their kits were growing fast on her milk.
I'll take care of you all
. Joy warmed his pelt, taking him by surprise. He'd never felt so protective of anyone before. Then he remembered the grief that had flashed momentarily in Thunder's gaze when he'd come to see the kits. Clear Sky shifted his paws guiltily. He'd never felt this way about his firstborn son. He realized now that
Thunder
had once been as helpless as Tiny Branch, and he'd had no father to protect him. His mother, Storm, had cared for him alone, hunting for her own prey. A chill swept Clear Sky's pelt.
How could I have been so cruel?

He felt Sparrow Fur's gaze on him. She'd stopped and was staring at him, the squirrel hanging from her jaws.

There wasn't time to dwell on the past now. Star Flower hadn't eaten since yesterday. And he wanted to organize another hunting patrol. If
one
squirrel had decided to come down from the trees, there might be more. He hurried after her.

Sparrow Fur led the way to the leaves where they'd buried the rabbit. He slid past her as they reached it and began to sift through them, feeling for the soft body beneath. He touched bare earth.
Where is it?
He sat back on his haunches,
worry sparking in his belly. “It's gone.”

“It can't be.” The squirrel thumped the earth as Sparrow Fur dropped it. She plunged her paws into the leaves and scrabbled beneath them.

“Could a fox have stolen it?” Clear Sky tasted the air. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Sparrow Fur, watch out.”

Sparrow Fur stopped searching for the rabbit and shot him an alarmed look. “What's wrong?” Her eyes glittered with worry as she read his warning gaze. She opened her mouth to taste the air.

A drawling mew rang from between the trees. “Are you looking for something?” Slash strolled out from behind an elm, his eyes shining with amusement.

Clear Sky turned, hackles up. “Where is it?”

Slash glanced to one side and a black-and-brown rogue padded out. The scrawny rabbit dangled from his jaws. “Beetle found your pitiful catch,” Slash sneered.

Another rogue followed Beetle from behind the tree, his black-and-white pelt rippling.

Slash went on. “Poor Splinter was upset that you'd only caught one.” He glanced at the black-and-white rogue. “Weren't you, Splinter?”

Splinter flicked his tail. “I thought you were supposed to be great hunters.” He glanced derisively at the scrawny rabbit as a fourth rogue padded out.

Snake.
Clear Sky shifted his paws uneasily as he recognized the striped tabby. Snake had belonged to Clear Sky's group once, but his true loyalties had been with One Eye.
He narrowed his eyes. They were outnumbered. Perhaps he should have brought a bigger patrol after all.

Slash's gaze flashed to the squirrel at Sparrow Fur's paws. “I guess it's better than nothing.”

Sparrow Fur hissed. “We didn't catch it for
you
. We caught it for our campmates.”

Slash padded forward and circled Clear Sky and Sparrow Fur slowly. “You're sharing your prey with us, remember?”

“We told you at the meeting that you'd have to catch your own,” Clear Sky snarled.

“Really?” Slash eyes lit up with a malicious glint. “I think I remember you promising that you'd give me all your prey.” The mangy brown tom suddenly dropped into a cowering crouch and mimicked a desperate mew. “Oh, Slash.
I'll
hunt for you! You can have
all
my prey. Just give me Star Flower!”

Clear Sky felt his pelt burn as he remembered pleading desperately at the meeting. He didn't dare look at Sparrow Fur. Instead he glared at Slash. “I got her back,” he hissed. “Which means I don't have to give you anything!”

Slash straightened and stalked back to his campmates. “You got what you want, and so now I get what
I
want.” He stared at the prey at Sparrow Fur's paws. “Give it to me.” His gaze burned into Sparrow Fur's.

Sparrow Fur lifted her chin. “Never!”

Clear Sky curled his claws into the ground. Blood roared in his ears. Every instinct told him to hurl himself at Slash and rip his fur off.
But what about Star Flower?
If you're hurt, who will protect her and your kits?
Heart pounding, he forced himself to stay still.

Sparrow Fur looked at him in surprise. “We're not going to let them take it, are we?”

Slash padded closer. “It belongs to us.”

Sparrow Fur placed her paw on the squirrel protectively. “No, it doesn't!”

Slash stopped a muzzle-length from Clear Sky and glared at him. “Give us the squirrel and we'll leave you alone.”

“For now,” Splinter growled softly behind him.

Snake purred with amusement. “Poor Clear Sky. You never
were
much of a leader.”

Rage boiled in Clear Sky's belly. Every hair on his pelt itched to fight these rogues. But he couldn't take risks. He backed away, nodding to Sparrow Fur. “Let them take it.”

Sparrow Fur blinked at him in disbelief. “Really?”

Clear Sky gazed coolly at Slash as he answered her. “We're outnumbered, Sparrow Fur. Fighting would be a waste of energy. Let these lazy fox-hearts take our prey. We can catch more while they're growing fat and soft.”

Slash flattened his ears.

Satisfaction washed over Clear Sky's pelt. He'd angered the rogue. “Here.” He pawed the squirrel toward Slash. “This should fill your bellies until you learn how to catch your own.”

Slash's eyes blazed. Showing his teeth, he lashed out with a paw. Clear Sky saw the blow coming and began to duck. But Sparrow Fur was faster. Diving like a hawk, she caught Slash's paw on her shoulder. She heaved it away, unbalancing Slash, then spun and raked her claws across the rogue's scarred muzzle.

Slash yowled with rage, and Snake darted forward and
slashed at Sparrow Fur's tail. As she twisted to face the yellow-eyed tom, Slash reared and slammed his paws onto her spine. Hooking his claws into her pelt, he dragged her onto her side.

Snake hissed. “Kill her!”

Beetle and Splinter split apart, their eyes widening with excitement as Slash leaped onto Sparrow Fur and began lashing at her with his forepaws.

“Get off!” Clear Sky tensed, ready to drag the rogue from his campmate, but he hesitated. If he joined in, then the others would too, and he wanted to
avoid
a fight. He grabbed the squirrel and tossed it at Snake. “Just take this and go!”

Slash paused. Sparrow Fur squirmed beneath him, lashing out clumsily as he leaped clear and landed beside Splinter. The squirrel lay at Beetle's paws. Slash looked at it, then glanced at Sparrow Fur.

The she-cat scrambled to her paws, hackles high. She glowered at Slash, a low growl rolling in her throat.

Clear Sky stepped in front of her and guided her away. “It's not worth the fight,” he murmured.

She frowned, anger clear in her gaze. “But they've taken everything we caught,” she whispered.

Clear Sky stared in dismay as Splinter picked up the squirrel between his jaws. Beetle scooped up the scrawny rabbit.

“Thanks, Clear Sky.” Slash curled his lip. “Next time, be a little more polite, or you might get hurt.” He turned and stalked away. Snake followed, Beetle and Splinter falling in behind.

Clear Sky could feel himself shaking with rage as he
watched them walk away with his catch. “You might have won this time!” he spat at Slash. “But one day you will feel my claws in your throat.” He froze as Slash turned and stared at him coldly.