Eventually Wind purred. “That could be a good idea.”
“Sure, but can we just eat?” Gorse asked, swiping his tongue over his jaws as he gazed at their prey.
Wind sighed. “Yes, greedy-belly. And while we’re eating,” she suggested to Gray Wing, “you can tell us more about yourself, and your friends. I’ve heard you come from far away.”
Gray Wing looked at them, pleased that they weren’t hostile any longer. “All the way from the mountains,” he replied. Impulsively he added, “Why don’t you come and meet my friends?”
Gorse and Wind glanced at each other. “Okay,” Gorse mewed. “And we can all share the hare.”
Gray Wing began to have misgivings as he led the way, Gorse and Wind behind him, dragging the hare between them. No cats have visited the hollow before. Even Storm didn’t go all the way in.
As he padded down into the scoop, he saw the others emerge from their nests under the gorse bushes and stare curiously upward at the newcomers. Tall Shadow padded into the middle of the hollow and waited for Gray Wing to approach her.
“What’s all this?” she meowed.
“Er . . . this is Gorse, and this is Wind,” Gray Wing replied. “They live on the moor.”
Tall Shadow narrowed her eyes. “These are the cats we had trouble with,” she reminded Gray Wing. “They accused you of stealing prey.”
Gray Wing saw Jackdaw’s Cry slide out his claws.
“We’re sorry. We know we got that wrong,” Gorse mewed, dipping his head politely.
“We’ve brought this prey to share with you,” Wind added, flicking her ears at the body of the hare.
Tall Shadow hesitated, then gave a curt nod. “Welcome,” she mewed, though her voice was still cool.
Taking that as permission, Gray Wing’s friends gathered around the hare with Gorse and Wind. Between eating and answering the questions that Gorse and Wind kept asking about their journey and the mountains where they used to live, the cats soon grew more friendly. Even Tall Shadow relaxed enough to take a few mouthfuls.
Later, when Gorse and Wind had left, Rainswept Flower padded over to Gray Wing. “Maybe not all the other cats around here are our enemies,” she commented. “Wind and Gorse seem pretty decent.”
Gray Wing nodded, though he heard a sniff from Tall Shadow. He realized it would take a lot to make her accept any other cats.
A couple of heartbeats later, Turtle Tail appeared at the top of the hollow with a bunch of leaves in her jaws. Gray Wing narrowed his eyes in suspicion, tasting the air to check if she was carrying the scent of the Twolegplace. “Where have you been?” he asked.
Before Turtle Tail could reply, Cloud Spots appeared behind her, also carrying a mouthful of herbs.“Thanks,” he mewed. “There’s so much stuff growing by the river, it was a real help to have you there.”
Guilt prickled Gray Wing like a claw in his skin. I shouldn’t be so suspicious.
He followed Turtle Tail as she set down the herbs she was carrying beside Cloud Spots’s nest. “I’m sorry, Turtle Tail,” he told her. “It’s not up to me to say where you can go.”
Turtle Tail blinked at him, seeming happy that he’d apologized. “It’s okay,” she purred.
The following morning Gray Wing felt as though ants were crawling through his pelt. He had meant to get more bedding for his nest, but the task seemed utterly boring and pointless. He thought about visiting Clear Sky, but his paws didn’t want to carry him in that direction. The sun had never crept so slowly up the sky.
“Hey!” Turtle Tail bounced up to him and butted his shoulder with her head. “Do you want to come hunting with me?”
Gray Wing stared at her, for a moment hardly registering what she had said. “Oh . . . no, thanks,” he meowed at last. “I’m meeting a cat.”
She gave him a curious look. “Who?”
“Storm. The one you met yesterday.”
Turtle Tail drew back her head suddenly, as if some cat had swiped at her. To Gray Wing’s surprise there was a hurt look in her eyes. “Okay. You do that,” she muttered, and stalked off.
Gray Wing forgot about her odd behavior almost at once. I have to go meet Storm! He raced across the moor; sunhigh was still some way off by the time he stood at the top of the hollow where the four oaks grew.
Cool fronds of fern brushed his pelt as he made his way down the slope toward the trees. He pounced on a flickering spot of golden sunlight, then twitched his whiskers in embarrassment at the thought that he had been behaving like a kit.
I’d like to climb one of the oak trees, he thought. Then I could leap down on Storm and surprise her!
Gray Wing bounded lightly across the hollow and hurled himself up the trunk of the nearest tree, trying to remember how Clear Sky and Jagged Peak did it. They make it look so easy! He clambered up several tail-lengths by digging his claws into the bark, but as he reached the lowest branches he got his head stuck in a clump of twigs and leaves, and couldn’t see where he was going anymore. A piece of bark peeled away from the tree and he found himself dangling by one forepaw.
“Having fun?”
His belly freezing at the sound of the amused voice below, Gray Wing grabbed for support on the tree again and managed to look down. Storm was standing on one of the tree roots, looking up at him, her eyes gleaming with laughter.
Haredung!
As quickly as he could, Gray Wing scrambled down again, jumping the last couple of tail-lengths. “Hello,” he mewed, trying to sound nonchalant. “I just wanted to find out how much you can see from up there.”
“And hedgehogs fly,” Storm responded, flicking her tail-tip over his ear. “Well, are we going, or not?”
Without waiting for a reply she led the way out of the hollow and plunged into the forest. Before long they came to a stream that chattered over stones, its surface glittering in the sunlight. Storm padded alongside it until she reached a dead branch that spanned it side to side; she ran lightly across and waited for Gray Wing to follow.
“Is this the stream that joins the river near those big rocks?” he asked as he jumped off the end of the branch to join her.
“That’s right,” Storm replied. “You’ve been there, then.”
Gray Wing nodded. “I explored them with my brother. Do you live around there?” he added as they bounded on through the trees.
“Oh, here and there,” she replied airily with a wave of her tail. “There are good places all over the forest. But don’t go in that direction,” she continued, angling her ears toward a tumble of rocks half hidden in the trees. “There are snakes, and their bite could make you sick or even kill you.”
Gray Wing suppressed a shudder. “Thanks for telling me.”
They followed another trickle of water down through a ravine hedged with gorse, and across a sandy hollow, where Storm paused to lap from the stream.
“Prey’s good around here,” she told Gray Wing. “There are plenty of mice and voles.”
“And squirrels,” Gray Wing added, remembering his hunt with Clear Sky and Jagged Peak. “There are lots of them in the beech trees farther on.”
Storm looked up, glittering drops of water spinning from her whiskers. “You do know your way around,” she meowed in a surprised voice.
“Actually, my littermate lives down here,” Gray Wing explained. “Why don’t you come meet him?”
This time Gray Wing took the lead as he followed the path that led to Clear Sky’s new home. Four days had passed since he had hunted the squirrel with Clear Sky and Jagged Peak, and he was looking forward to seeing his brothers again.
Gray Wing soon picked up Clear Sky’s scent, and Jagged Peak’s too, mingled with another, stronger scent of a cat he didn’t recognize. Rounding a bramble thicket, he found himself facing a large brown tom with yellow eyes.
“Who are you?” Gray Wing asked, halting abruptly and bracing himself for an attack.
“Who are you?” the tom growled. “This is Clear Sky’s place.”
Gray Wing gaped with astonishment. He had assumed this was a rogue who lived in the forest. Hearing the tom mention Clear Sky had left him completely confused.
“Clear Sky is my brother,” he responded. “We’re on our way to visit him. Is that a problem?”
“Only if you make it one.” The rogue’s sharp yellow eyes narrowed. “Clear Sky doesn’t like strange cats wandering around here, close to his camp.”
His what? Gray Wing thought. Is that what rogues call the place where they live?
“I’m not a strange cat!” he snapped, growing exasperated. “I’m his brother!”
The brown tom narrowed his eyes. “Okay. But just in case you’re not telling the truth, I’ll take you to Clear Sky myself. Don’t even think about trying anything.”
Beckoning with his tail, he led the way down a narrow track between ferns. Gray Wing exchanged a glance with Storm.
“What’s all that about?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Gray Wing replied.
He followed the brown tom, Storm hard on his paws, until they emerged from the ferns into the sheltered hollow where his littermate had made his home. Clear Sky was stretched out in the shade of some brambles, grooming himself, while Falling Feather sat beside the pool with Quick Water and the small yellow tabby she-cat Gray Wing had seen before. Remembering how aggressive the tabby had been, it was a shock to see her sitting peacefully beside his friends.
The brown tom stalked across the clearing and stood in front of Clear Sky. “I found these two on their way here,” he announced, flicking his tail at Gray Wing and Storm. “The tom says he’s your brother.”
Clear Sky leaped to his paws. “He is. Hello, Gray Wing.”
The brown tom looked disconcerted as Gray Wing and Storm padded over to Clear Sky.
“This is Fox,” Clear Sky announced as Gray Wing touched noses with him. “He decided to join us.”
“And this is Fox’s sister, Petal,” Falling Feather called from where she sat by the pool. “She’s come to stay with us as well.” Her eyes shone as she gazed at Fox. “Isn’t it great?”
Shock struck Gray Wing like a flash of lightning. “Really?” he demanded, facing Clear Sky in bewilderment. “Rogues living among you?”
Clear Sky let out a mrrow of amusement. “We’re rogues too, don’t forget,” he meowed. “So why have you come to see me?”
“I brought Storm to meet you,” Gray Wing responded, gesturing the silver she-cat forward with his tail. “She lives around here.”
“Welcome . . .” Clear Sky’s voice began by being cheerful, then trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Storm.
Storm seemed lost for words. Gray Wing hoped she hadn’t been intimidated by Fox’s hostility.
“So . . . where do you live?” Clear Sky asked, obviously forcing the words out.
“Nowhere special . . .” Storm blinked rapidly. “I . . . er . . .”
“She goes to the Twolegplace sometimes,” Gray Wing put in, since Storm seemed to be having trouble explaining herself. “But she’s not a kittypet.”
Neither Storm nor Clear Sky seemed to hear him. Clear Sky’s blue gaze met Storm’s green; Gray Wing had never seen such intensity.
“It’s . . . very nice here,” Storm went on, waving her tail around the hollow. “Comfortable.”
“Yes . . . we like it.”
Are they both completely flea-brained? Gray Wing wondered.
For a moment longer Clear Sky and Storm gazed at each other. Both cats’ neck fur was slightly fluffed up, and their tail-tips twitched from side to side. Gray Wing wouldn’t have been surprised if they had sprung at each other.
“Hey, why don’t we—” he began.
“I have to go,” Storm interrupted brusquely.
Clear Sky looked dismayed. “Why?”
Storm shook her head in confusion. “I need to hunt,” she mewed at last.
“Well, come back soon,” Clear Sky invited her, though he was clearly disappointed.
“I will.” Storm turned and headed out of the clearing. Gray Wing glanced at Clear Sky, then turned and followed her.
What just happened? he wondered, bounding forward to catch up to Storm. “Are you okay?”
“What?” Storm turned to look at him, her green gaze distracted. “Oh, yes, I’m fine.”
She headed toward the river and padded alongside it, in the direction of the four great oaks. Gray Wing realized their playful friendliness had faded like morning mist.
“Should we meet again tomorrow?” he asked as they paused on the edge of the trees.
Storm sighed. “I don’t know . . . I’ll see you around, okay?” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and plunged into the depths of the forest, leaving Gray Wing to stare after her.
Gray Wing couldn’t understand how one day could make such a difference. The four great oaks stood the same as they always had, but their leaves were limp and still; there was not a breath of wind. The forest was gloomy, with no sun breaking through the clouds. Worst of all, there was no sign of Storm.
Hope sprang up in Gray Wing as he heard a rustle and saw fronds of fern shaking as a cat approached the bottom of the hollow. But his tail drooped in disappointment as Turtle Tail emerged into the open.
“Hi,” she meowed, bounding toward him. “I’m hunting. Do you want to join me?”
Gray Wing shook his head. “Sorry. I’m waiting for Storm.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again,” Gray Wing replied, slightly annoyed at the hint of disapproval in Turtle Tail’s voice. Then as all his hopes and doubts surged through him, he knew that he had to confide in some cat. “I . . . I really like her,” he confessed. “I want her to come and live in the hollow with us.”
Turtle Tail’s eyes widened; Gray Wing was surprised to see sadness in their green depths.
“Oh . . . I see,” she mewed. “I’ll be off, then.” She spun around, racing away swiftly in the direction of the Twolegplace.
But she said she was hunting, Gray Wing thought, then began to search for Storm. At one point he picked up her scent, then realized it was stale, probably from when she had met him the day before.
“Gray Wing.”
That wasn’t the voice he longed to hear. He turned and spotted Tall Shadow beckoning to him from halfway up the slope.
“Walk with me,” she invited as he came up to her. “I need to talk to you.”
Tall Shadow led the way through the forest and along the edge of the moor. “Tell me more about the new cats who are living with Clear Sky and Moon Shadow.”
Gray Wing shrugged, peering through the trees in case Storm appeared. “I told you all I know,” he replied. “They seem to have settled in well, as far as I could see.”
Tall Shadow nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think we should invite Gorse and Wind to move into the hollow with us?”
Gray Wing was startled. He thought that Tall Shadow was the last cat who would want to do that; she hadn’t been particularly welcoming when he had brought the two rogues for a visit.
“It’s not natural for us,” he began hesitantly. “In the mountains, there were no other cats. So it’s hard for us to invite strangers in.”
“I know,” Tall Shadow agreed. “But maybe we should consider it. It would be helpful to hunt together, and we would be stronger if dogs or foxes attacked.” Sighing, she added, “I wish Shaded Moss was still with us. He would know what to do.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Gray Wing told her. “This would be just as strange to him.” He thought for a few heartbeats and then continued, “Perhaps we should do what Stoneteller said, and trust our instincts above all else.”
“Well,” Tall Shadow meowed, her voice suddenly sharper, “my instinct says we shouldn’t be too hasty about letting other cats live with us. Not yet, anyway.”
“That’s fine by me,” Gray Wing responded, though he couldn’t help asking himself, Then what about Storm?
For the next few days, Gray Wing forced himself not to spen
d all his time looking for Storm. Instead, he kept busy with hunting and helping to improve the nests in the hollow.
He had gone as far as the river searching for moss when he heard a friendly voice hailing him. “Gray Wing!”
It was Gorse, with Wind just behind him. They bounded to join Gray Wing at the water’s edge, both of them touching noses with him.
“Good to see you,” Gray Wing meowed. “How’s the prey running?”
“Fine, thanks,” Wind replied. “Though that hare was the best catch we’ve made in moons.”
“It was fun visiting your camp,” Wind told him with a friendly flick of her tail. “Can we come and see you again? We could show you some of the best places for prey.”
“Maybe another time,” Gray Wing responded awkwardly. “We’re kind of busy just now.”
Gorse gave a nod. “No problem.”
Gray Wing was relieved that the two rogues hadn’t taken offense. He liked Gorse and Wind, and would have invited them but for his recent conversation with Tall Shadow. He understood her wariness of getting too close to strangers.
Then what about Storm? he wondered once again. But Storm didn’t feel like a stranger to him.
Anxiety struck him as the silver-furred she-cat came back into his mind. Maybe I should be worried about not seeing Storm . . . she might be in trouble!
Saying good-bye to Gorse and Wind, Gray Wing abandoned the moss he had been collecting and headed across the moor toward the forest. Quickening his pace, he resolved to go right into the heart of the Twolegplace if he had to. But before he reached the edge of the trees he halted in surprise as he saw the silver tabby emerge from the undergrowth.
“Storm!” he called out.
Storm jumped, startled, and for a heartbeat Gray Wing wondered if she even wanted to see him. But as he bounded up to her he saw that her green eyes were warm with welcome. “Hello,” she mewed. “How are things with you?”
“I’m fine,” Gray Wing replied. He wanted to ask Storm where she had been, but he was worried about offending her. She’s here now, and that’s what matters.
Side by side the two cats wandered down to the river and crouched on the edge, gazing down into the water. Tiny fish were slipping in and out of the stones, their skin glinting in the sunlight.