Page 15 of Path of Stars


  Hope sparked beneath Gray Wing’s pelt. If Slash was gone, perhaps life on the moor could return to normal. No extra guards. Fewer hunting patrols. They could sleep soundly in their nests once more.

  Lightning Tail stopped beside the Thunderpath and waited. As Gray Wing skidded to a halt on the wet grass beside him, a monster pounded toward them. When it shot past, Lightning Tail stepped in front of him, blocking the spray from its spinning paws. Gray Wing felt a prickle of irritation. You don’t need to protect me. He padded around the tom and broke into a run, racing over the slick stone path. He kept running until he reached the shelter of the pines on the other side.

  Gray Wing was relieved to be out of the rain. Only a few drops penetrated the thick needle canopy. Lightning Tail caught up to him and shook out his fur.

  Gray Wing smoothed the rain from his whiskers, stiffening suddenly as a thought struck him. “Is Fern okay?”

  “She’s wounded. But not badly.” Lightning Tail set off through the pines. “Pebble Heart’s there. He’ll take care of her.”

  Gray Wing leaped a ditch as they reached it. “Were many cats hurt?”

  “Most of them,” Lightning Tail told him. “Two are dead.”

  Dead! It must have been a horrific attack. “Where did Slash go?”

  Lightning Tail shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Why did he leave? Did the dogs drive him out?”

  “No,” Lightning Tail told him. “He abandoned his campmates after the attack.”

  Gray Wing’s pelt prickled with shock. “Abandoned them?”

  “They were glad to see him go.”

  At last! Satisfaction warmed Gray Wing’s belly. Fern would be free now. “Is Slash alone?”

  Lightning Tail shook his head. “Beetle, Splinter, Snake, and Swallow went with him.”

  Gray Wing’s heart sank. Slash wasn’t as isolated as he’d hoped. What if he returned to terrorize his campmates once more? “We need to get the others away from the marsh as soon as we can.” But where could they take them?

  The rain was easing by the time they reached the marsh camp. The dark, soggy afternoon was sliding quickly into evening. As Lightning Tail led Gray Wing through the entrance, Gray Wing stared at the gloomy clearing. His paws pricked with shock. Holes in the camp wall showed where the dogs had crashed through. The rain-soaked earth smelled of blood. Cats huddled in the shelter of the marsh grass at the edges. They gazed warily at Gray Wing as he entered.

  He dipped his head. “My name is Gray Wing,” he told them. “I’ve come to help.”

  Fern padded from a drooping clump of reeds. “Gray Wing.” Her eyes were hollow with exhaustion. “Did Lightning Tail tell you? Slash is gone.”

  “I know.” Gray Wing touched his nose to the young she-cat’s head, relieved to find her well. “How are you?”

  She drew away. “My sister is dead.” She blinked at a mottled she-cat lying at the edge of the clearing.

  “That was your sister?”

  “She’s why I had to come back.”

  Lightning Tail scanned the clearing. “Where’s Thunder?”

  “He’s digging a grave with Juniper and Raven.” Fern nodded toward a gap in the camp wall. “Out there.”

  A pretty gray she-cat crossed the clearing to meet them. Black fur edged her ears and paws, and her amber eyes were warm. “Are you Gray Wing?”

  Gray Wing dipped his head in greeting. “Yes.”

  “Thank you for coming.” She stopped in front of him. “I’m Violet. Thunder said you might be able to find us somewhere to stay.” She glanced around at the battered camp. “I don’t think we’re safe here anymore.”

  Gray Wing’s ears twitched uneasily. An orange tom was huddled beside a tortoiseshell she-cat. He recognized them from the attack on the moor. Only a few days ago, he and his campmates had fought these very cats. Violet was still staring at him expectantly. He fumbled for words. “I’ll do what I can,” he murmured. Turning his head, he gazed through the gap in the camp wall. “I must speak with Thunder first.”

  “Of course.” Violet padded toward a tabby she-cat and crouched beside her. The tabby was trembling, her eyes glittering with grief as Violet leaned close and lapped her cheek softly.

  Gray Wing was heading toward the grave when he recognized a gray pelt beneath a dropping clump of marsh grass. “Pebble Heart!”

  The young tom was tending to another cat. He turned as he heard his name. A wad of cobweb hung from his jaws. He blinked a welcome at Gray Wing, then turned back to the wounded tom.

  “He’s treating injuries,” Fern explained. “He’s been busy since he arrived—cleaning cuts and bites and gathering cobweb to stop the bleeding.”

  “They are in safe paws.” Gray Wing gave a purr. He wasn’t surprised that Pebble Heart had helped the rogues eagerly and unquestioningly. He headed for the gap in the wall and hopped out of the camp. “Stay with the others,” he called to Lightning Tail.

  The black tom nodded. “I’ll guard the entrance.”

  He followed a trail of crushed grass and churned mud until he saw Thunder’s orange pelt, bright against the darkening sky. In a gap between the tussocks, the tom was leaning over a hole, hauling earth out with his paws. Another tom worked beside him. As Gray Wing reached the grave, he saw the tortoiseshell she-cat walk up to the edge and drop to the bottom, sinking paw-deep into the mud. She then scooped a pawful of mud up and dumped it on the rim.

  Thunder pawed it away. The black tom next to him scraped peat from the side of the hole.

  Gray Wing glanced sadly toward the two bodies lying nearby. Their bony frames showed through their bedraggled fur. Rain streamed down whiskers that would never twitch again.

  Thunder looked up as Gray Wing reached him. “Thanks for coming.” He straightened, wiping his muddy paws on his belly fur.

  “Is Slash really gone?” Gray Wing asked.

  “For now,” Thunder told him. “But we need to bury these cats and get the others away. Who knows if he might come back?”

  The rogue beside him sat up. “Or the dogs might return.”

  Thunder nodded toward the black tom. “This is Raven,” he told Gray Wing. He glanced at the she-cat standing in the grave. “That’s Juniper.”

  “Hi.” Raven dipped his head.

  “Hello.” Juniper met Gray Wing’s gaze, then blinked at Thunder. “Do you think this is deep enough?”

  “It needs to be a bit deeper if it’s to keep the bodies safe from foxes.” Thunder stood up. Mud caked his paws. “Will you two be okay finishing here while I talk to Gray Wing?”

  “We’ll be fine.” Juniper scooped out another pawful of wet dirt.

  Thunder signaled to Gray Wing with a flick of his tail, then wove his way between the tussocks.

  Gray Wing followed until they were clear of the others.

  “What are we going to do with them?” Thunder whispered.

  “They clearly can’t stay here.” Gray Wing stared across the empty marsh. “The camp’s not safe anymore.”

  “We could take them to Tall Shadow’s camp,” Thunder suggested. “It’s not too far.”

  Gray Wing frowned. “It might be too near. Now that the dogs have their scent, they might track these cats to Tall Shadow’s camp if we take them there.”

  “The river?” Thunder wondered.

  “It’s a long trek for injured cats.”

  Thunder glanced toward the wrecked camp. “Frog’s badly injured. I’m not even sure he can walk. I don’t know how we’re going to get him over the Thunderpath.”

  “We’ll deal with that when we come to it.” Gray Wing shifted his paws. The moor would be the safest place for the rogues. The hollow had thick walls and was easy to defend. And every moor cat knew how to divert dogs away from the camp by leading them through swaths of heather and gorse and hiding in rabbit burrows until the dogs were exhausted and confused. But how would he convince Wind Runner to take the rogues in? Why would she welcome cats who had attacked her campmates a
nd stolen their prey? Gray Wing frowned. He’d persuade her somehow. It would only be temporary: until the rogues recovered, or found new homes. “What about the moor?” he ventured.

  “The hollow?” Thunder’s eyes brightened. “They’d be safe there. I’ve seen how moor cats deal with dogs.”

  Gray Wing nodded. “Let’s take them there for now. Tomorrow we’ll decide where they can go next.”

  The grass rustled behind them. Gray Wing jerked his muzzle around to see Violet standing at their tails.

  She blinked at him hopefully. “Can we join your group?”

  Gray Wing froze. Wind Runner would never agree to that!

  Violet must have sensed his hesitation. “We don’t all have to join the same group. Perhaps a few could join yours, and some could live in the pines and some in the oak forest. There are cats by the river, too, aren’t there? Maybe some could go there.” Her gaze drifted to Thunder. “And perhaps I could join your group?”

  Gray Wing’s ears twitched. Thunder’s eyes widened as Violet blinked at him hopefully. They seemed lost in each other’s eyes.

  Then Thunder spoke. “I’d have to speak with my campmates.” His fur rippled self-consciously. “But I’d like you to join our group.”

  A burst of happiness spread over Violet’s features before she dipped her head shyly. “Thank you.”

  “Thunder!” Juniper called from beyond the tussocks. “We’re finished.”

  “I’m coming!” Thunder called back. He blinked at Gray Wing. “Is it decided? We take them back to the moor tonight. Then tomorrow we can see which groups will take the others.”

  “Yes.” Gray Wing nodded. It seemed the only way. But would Wind Runner give the rogues shelter for the night? He pushed the worry away. The most important thing now was to get the rogues away from here.

  “I’ll fetch the others.” Violet’s mew cut into his thoughts. “They’ll want to say good-bye to their campmates.” She hesitated before she padded away, her mew turning wistful. “Slash used to make us take bodies to the carrion place and leave them for the crows and rats.”

  Gray Wing shuddered. Could rogues that had once treated their dead campmates as crow-food ever learn to live peacefully among moor and forest cats?

  By the time the rogues had said good-bye to Beech and Stone and buried their bodies so that no fox could dig them up, night had swallowed the marsh. The rain had eased, but clouds still covered the moon. Lightning Tail paced in the darkness, as though impatient to leave. Gray Wing gathered the rogues in the remains of the camp. “Are you well enough to walk as far as the moor?”

  He glanced around the expectant faces.

  Willow looked toward Frog, who was still lying at the edge of the clearing.

  Pebble Heart was crouching beside the injured tom. “Frog will need to be carried.”

  Who was strong enough? Gray Wing scanned the rogues. Moss was hardly injured, and Raven looked fit. Juniper must be tired after the digging, but she met his gaze eagerly. If Lightning Tail helped, they should be able to carry the wounded rogue between them. “Moss, Raven, Juniper, and Lightning Tail. Will you carry Frog?”

  “Of course.” Moss padded toward his injured campmate at once, Juniper and Raven hurrying after him. As Lightning Tail followed, Moss tucked his nose beneath Frog’s shoulder. The injured tom grunted as Raven grasped his scruff.

  “Careful,” Pebble Heart cautioned. His eyes glittered with worry. “He’s injured his spine. Too much movement might make it worse.”

  Raven tugged Frog onto Moss’s shoulders.

  Frog screeched with pain.

  Pebble Heart’s fur bushed. “Stop!”

  Gently, Moss moved away and Raven lowered Frog to the ground.

  Thunder blinked at Pebble Heart. “What can we do? We can’t leave him here.”

  Pebble Heart was gazing into the distance, his eyes clouded with a look that Gray Wing knew well. The young tom was thinking.

  “Frog.” Willow crouched beside the tom. “You’ll be okay. We won’t leave you behind.”

  “He needs to lie flat as we move him,” Pebble Heart murmured.

  Gray Wing frowned. “That’s not possible.”

  Pebble Heart blinked at him, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. “Yes, it is!” He raced to the camp entrance. “We need to find the right sized piece of bark. I’ve seen plenty in the pine forest. It’ll curve around his body but be flat enough to support him. We can use it to drag him to the moor.”

  Lightning Tail pricked his ears. “I’ll help find some.”

  “I’ll come too!” Moss hurried across the clearing.

  “Where’s Moss going?” Pine blinked anxiously at his father as he headed out of camp.

  “He’s not going far,” Dawn soothed. “He’ll be back soon.”

  Pine lifted his chin. “I’m going with him.” He began to cross the clearing, following Moss’s paw steps.

  Violet darted forward and grabbed the tip of the kit’s tail between her teeth. “You’re staying here,” she mewed through gritted teeth as she dragged Pine toward his mother. “Dawn has had enough to worry about today without you wandering off.”

  Pine struggled free and glared at the dark gray she-cat, but he didn’t argue. Sticking his tail in the air, he stalked back to Dawn’s side and sat down stiffly.

  Gray Wing glanced toward the pine trees, no more than shadows against the cloudy night sky.

  No one spoke as they waited for Pebble Heart, Moss, and Lightning Tail to return.

  Gray Wing stiffened when, at last, paw steps sounded outside the camp. He hurried to the entrance, then hopped back as Lightning Tail burst, tail-first, into the clearing. He was dragging a piece of bark in his teeth while Moss and Pebble Heart pushed the other end with their paws. Gray Wing sniffed it as Lightning Tail let it drop beside Frog. The scent of sap was still fresh. It clearly had not been lying long on the forest floor. The bark would be strong.

  Pebble Heart crouched beside Frog. “We need to move you onto the bark,” he told the tom. “It will hurt, but not for long.”

  “I can bear it,” Frog grunted.

  Willow paced beside the injured rogue, her worried gaze on Pebble Heart. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Pebble Heart buried his muzzle into Frog’s scruff and bit down. He blinked at Lightning Tail and Moss, and they hurried to help. Nosing Frog’s hindquarters, they heaved him onto the piece of bark, while Pebble Heart guided his head.

  Frog grunted, his eyes sparking with pain, then fell limp as they laid him into the curve of his bark nest.

  Violet padded around him, looking worried. “Will we be able to drag it?”

  Thunder puffed out his chest. “There’s only one way to find out.” Leaning down, he grasped one corner of the bark between his teeth and tugged. The bark slid a little way over the ground. Juniper hurried to help, taking the other corner in her teeth. Between them, the two cats began to heave Frog toward the clearing.

  Gray Wing watched them haul him through the entrance. The rogues limped behind them, a straggling trail of battered cats. His pelt prickled nervously. Could they really drag Frog all the way to the moor? And what would he tell Wind Runner when they arrived?

  “Frog?” Willow’s anxious mew sounded from the head of the group. Gray Wing hurried past the rogues and stopped beside her. Above, the clouds were thinning. Stars were glittering through the gaps. They had made it onto the moor. The hollow was visible in the weak starlight, no more than a shadow on the hillside.

  Willow leaned over the bark nest. The rogue’s body was slumped in its curve.

  “He’s not moving.” Willow looked expectantly at Pebble Heart.

  The young tom sniffed Frog’s muzzle. “He’s still breathing, but very weakly,” he murmured.

  “Do something to help him!” Willow’s tail quivered.

  Gray Wing’s heart twisted as he heard horror in her mew.

  Pebble Heart met her gaze. “I can clean wounds and stop them
from bleeding, but Frog’s injury is inside. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Anger flared in Willow’s gaze. “But you got him this far!” She glanced toward the hollow. “We’re so near. He has to make it.”

  Frog grunted softly.

  Willow crouched beside him. “Frog. Hang on. We’re nearly there. You’re going to be okay.”

  Gray Wing saw Frog’s tail slide limply onto the ground.

  Willow hopped over the bark and tucked it in neatly beside him. “We’re going to take care of you, Frog.”

  Frog made no sound.

  “Frog?” Willow leaned into the nest and lapped at his shoulder urgently. “Say something. Wake up. Stay awake. You can sleep when we get to safety.”

  Pebble Heart placed his paw on Frog’s flank.

  Gray Wing’s heart lurched as shock darkened the young tom’s gaze. He looked at Frog and saw stillness beneath Pebble Heart’s paw. Frog wasn’t breathing.

  “Frog!” Panic edged Willow’s mew.

  “I’m sorry.” Pebble Heart’s mew was husky. “He’s dead.”

  “No!” Willow backed away, her eyes wide.

  Violet hurried to her side, steadying Willow as she began to tremble. “So much death!”

  Thunder padded forward. “This will be the last.” He met Gray Wing’s gaze. Was that doubt flickering in his starlit gaze?

  Gray Wing dipped his head. “There’s no point dragging Frog to the hollow now,” he meowed softly. “We should bury him here and mark his grave so that he will not be forgotten.”

  As he spoke, he heard paws pounding across the hillside. He turned his head and saw, in the moonlight, Wind Runner and Gorse Fur running toward them. He hurried to meet them. He didn’t want Wind Runner stumbling into the rogues without warning.

  “There you are, Gray Wing!” Wind Runner pulled up as she neared, her pelt rippling uneasily as she saw the rogues gathered behind him. Her mew hardened. “What are they doing here?”

  Gorse Fur narrowed his eyes as he scanned the bedraggled cats.

  Gray Wing shifted his paws. “Their camp was attacked by dogs. Slash deserted them with a few of his allies. Three of their campmates are dead and most of them are injured. I told them that we would give them shelter for the night.” He held his leader’s gaze unflinchingly. “Their camp is no longer safe. They need our help.”