Page 18 of Path of Stars


  Gray Wing burst from the camp after Minnow and Spotted Fur.

  Wind Runner raced up the slope to meet them.

  “Is the camp in danger?” Gray Wing skidded to a halt in front of her.

  Wind Runner shook her head. “Something attacked Fern, but it’s gone now. Reed’s with her. He’s trying to stop the bleeding.”

  Spotted Fur circled the group leader while Minnow dashed back and forth, scanning the heather. “Where is she?”

  “Follow the blood-scent!” Moth Flight hurtled past, her mew muffled by the cobweb.

  As Spotted Fur and Minnow followed, Gray Wing held Wind Runner’s gaze. “Was it a fox?”

  “She hasn’t said yet.” Wind Runner bounded after the others, veering around a gorse patch. Gray Wing raced beside her as she went on. “Reed was hunting with me and Gorse Fur. We were tracking the scent of blood. We thought it must be an injured rabbit. Reed got to it first. Then he called out Fern’s name. When we reached him, we saw her lying on the grass. She’s badly hurt.”

  Gray Wing fought back panic. What had done this to her? Were dogs roaming the moor? My kits! His chest tightened. Forcing his fur flat, he slowed his breathing and followed Wind Runner to a dip beyond the gorse.

  Fern lay on the grass. Blood matted her black pelt, glistening in the afternoon sun and welling on her ripped muzzle. Her ear tips were bleeding. Her eyes were clouded with pain and shock as she stared blindly at the cats crowding around her.

  Gray Wing’s heart ached for the brave cat who’d risked so much to save Star Flower.

  Spotted Fur hung back, his eyes wide.

  Gray Wing pushed between Minnow and Gorse Fur to where Reed was leaning over her. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “We have to stop the bleeding,” Reed told him.

  Moth Flight nosed her way past Gray Wing and pressed her white paws over a gash in Fern’s trembling flank. Blood seeped into her snowy fur.

  Wind Runner lashed her tail angrily. “Stop getting in the way.” She tried to nose Moth Flight away.

  Moth Flight stiffened, holding her paws over the wound. “Didn’t you hear? We have to stop the bleeding.”

  “Then go and find more cobwebs,” Wind Runner ordered.

  Reed flicked his tail. “Let her help,” he snapped to Wind Runner. “Moth Flight knows what she’s doing. Minnow can find cobwebs.”

  Gray Wing saw surprise flash in Wind Runner’s gaze. She flicked her muzzle toward Minnow. “You heard him.” But the gray-and-white she-cat was already racing downslope. She dived into the heather and disappeared.

  Gorse Fur shifted his paws nervously. “What did this to her? Is there a dog loose?”

  “These are cat scratches,” Reed told him darkly.

  Gray Wing scanned the moor for pelts. Slash? Had the rogue and his allies returned to wreak revenge?

  Wind Runner lifted her tail. “Gorse Fur, take Spotted Fur and search for invaders.”

  “No.” Fern’s mew was no more than a breath. “Not invaders.”

  Gray Wing stiffened. She could speak! He dropped down beside her. Blood welled on her lip. He tried to catch her eye. “Can you tell us who did this to you?”

  Her gaze flicked toward him, as though she was trying to focus.

  Gray Wing leaned closer. “You’re going to be okay.” I hope. “Reed will take care of you. But we need to know what happened.” Was the rest of the camp in danger?

  Fern moved her head. Trembling, she dragged her gaze to meet Gray Wing’s. “It was Bee.”

  “Bee!” Wind Runner gasped.

  Gray Wing leaned closer, his thoughts whirling. “Why?”

  Fern groaned. “She said I was a traitor for enjoying being a moor cat. She said Slash would call me a mouse-heart and she was going back to join him.”

  A low growl rumbled in Wind Runner’s throat. “I knew we couldn’t trust rogues!”

  Fern flinched. “You can trust me,” she croaked.

  Gray Wing touched his muzzle to her cheek, the sour scent of blood filling his nose. “Wind Runner knows she can trust you.” He ignored Wind Runner’s grunt behind him. “You were a friend to us even before you joined our group. You just take it easy while Reed fixes you up.”

  “Where are those cobwebs?” Reed glanced over his shoulder, relief flickering in his gaze as he saw Minnow haring toward him.

  She skidded to halt and dropped wads of cobweb at his paws.

  Reed scooped them up at once and passed some to Moth Flight. “Press it into the wound, as gently as you can.”

  Moth Flight nodded and began to pad the gash in Fern’s flank with the cobwebs while Reed pressed them across the scratches on her shoulder.

  “Do you need more?” Spotted Fur asked.

  “All you can find,” Reed told her.

  As Minnow raced away again, Wind Runner paced the grass. She signaled to Spotted Fur and Gorse Fur with a flick of her tail. “Hunt for Bee. Bring her back to camp.”

  Gray Wing straightened. “Is that a good idea?” He scanned the moor again. “What if she’s already with Slash? It’s too dangerous to send two cats alone.”

  Wind Runner narrowed her eyes. “We have to do something!”

  Spotted Fur shifted his paws impatiently. “Perhaps Willow knows something about this.”

  Gorse Fur frowned. “She’s hunting with Dust Muzzle.”

  Wind Runner’s pelt spiked along her spine. “That’s all the more reason to find her. What if she and Bee planned this together?”

  “No!” Fern grunted. “Willow’s not like Bee. She likes the group.”

  Gray Wing nodded. “Willow’s always helped with hunting and collecting bedding and guarding the camp. I can’t believe she’d wish us any harm.”

  Gorse Fur’s ears twitched anxiously. “Let’s find Dust Muzzle anyway.”

  As he spoke, pelts showed against the grass below.

  “They’re coming!” Relief swamped Gorse Fur’s mew. He raced to meet them.

  Wind Runner eyed Willow warily as the pale tabby stopped to greet Gorse Fur. “How can I trust any rogue now?”

  Gray Wing glanced at Fern. You can trust her. But he understood Wind Runner’s fear. Were any of the other rogues like Bee? Should he warn the other groups? What if Slash’s campmates had only joined the forest cats to cause trouble? As his thoughts quickened, Willow raced toward him.

  As she stopped, she stared at Fern, her eyes blazing with rage. “Did Bee really do this?”

  Gray Wing lowered his gaze. “She did.”

  Willow’s pelt bushed. Pricking her ears, she scanned the moor. “I’m going to find her,” she snarled. “How could she hurt Fern? How could she betray the cats that took her in?”

  Wind Runner eyed the pale tabby suspiciously. “Don’t you know?” she asked pointedly. “After all, you’re a rogue like she is.”

  Willow stared at the camp leader. “Do you think I’d keep quiet if I’d known Bee was going to do something like this?” She flicked her nose toward Fern. “I’m going to make Bee sorry she was born.” She started down the slope.

  Gorse Fur blocked her way, Dust Muzzle at his heels. “It’s too dangerous. We’ve already decided. She might have found Slash already, and they might be waiting for us to retaliate. It could be a trap.”

  Wind Runner narrowed her eyes. “Let her go, if she wants. Perhaps Slash is waiting for her to join him.”

  Willow turned on the moor leader, outrage flashing in her gaze. “How can I prove I’m loyal to you? If I stay, you won’t trust me. If I leave, you think I’m betraying you—”

  “Do you really think I’d trust you after this?” Wind Runner stared at Willow.

  Willow’s hackles lifted.

  Gray Wing bristled. Why was Wind Runner being so harsh? Willow had hunted and patrolled as loyally as any cat. “Of course you can trust—”

  Gorse Fur padded between the two she-cats. “We need to get Fern back to camp,” he meowed firmly. “If this is the beginning of trouble, then she needs to be
somewhere safe. We must post guards and be prepared for an attack. Willow and Spotted Fur can take the first watch.”

  Wind Runner opened her mouth to speak. Gray Wing guessed that she was about to complain about Willow being posted as camp guard. But Gorse Fur silenced her with a look. “Willow has done nothing wrong. We must trust her. Without trust, there is no group.”

  “Very well.” Wind Runner agreed tersely. She glanced at Reed. “Can we move her?”

  Reed inspected the gash Moth Flight had treated, then nodded. Gray Wing stood back as Minnow, Gorse Fur, Willow, and Spotted Fur lifted Fern onto their shoulders. Carrying her carefully, they headed back to camp.

  Moth Flight lingered beside Gray Wing and Dust Muzzle. Her white pelt was stained with Fern’s blood.

  As Wind Runner followed the others, Gray Wing glanced at Moth Flight. “Are you okay?”

  Moth Flight nodded.

  Dust Muzzle sniffed his sister gingerly. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

  Moth Flight shook out her fur. “Poor Fern.” She stared after the wounded she-cat, eyes round with worry. “I hope she’s okay.”

  Gray Wing blinked at the young cat proudly. “You were very brave.”

  Dust Muzzle shuddered. “Didn’t touching her wounds make you feel sick?”

  “No.” Moth Flight shrugged. “It seemed like the most natural thing to do. Not helping would have felt worse.”

  “Come on.” Gray Wing shooed the two cats up the slope with a gentle flick of his tail. “If Slash is planning something, we shouldn’t be caught out on the moor.”

  “I thought Slash would leave us alone now.” Slate spoke in a whisper. White Tail, Silver Stripe, and Black Ear slept at her belly. The den was warm, but outside, the evening had brought a hard frost.

  Gray Wing felt a twinge of pity for Gorse Fur and Minnow, who had replaced Willow and Spotted Fur as camp guards. They faced a long, cold vigil beside the heather entrance. He snuggled closer to Slate and the kits. “He might not be planning anything. Just because Bee decided to join him doesn’t mean he’ll attack.”

  Slate’s eyes glittered in the darkness. “He has five allies now.” She wrapped her tail around the dozing kits. “He might even have recruited more.”

  “We’re safe here,” he told Slate. “Gorse Fur and Minnow are guarding the camp.” It should be me. But Wind Runner had refused his offer to help. Reed had backed her up when Gray Wing had argued.

  “But I want to guard,” he’d insisted.

  “You should stay close to your kits,” Wind Runner had told him.

  Reed had nodded. “A warm den is better for your breathing than cold night air.”

  Gray Wing had glared angrily at the silver tom. But he hadn’t argued. He knew it was true. Even here, cozy in his nest beside Slate and their kits, he felt invisible jaws tighten around his chest, as though some creature were trying to squeeze the breath from him. It will pass, he told himself as fear crept beneath his pelt. He leaned forward and sniffed White Tail’s soft fur. The dark gray kit mewled in his sleep and rolled over. Silver Stripe stirred beside him, her tail sticking out.

  Black Ear lifted his head and blinked sleepily at Gray Wing. “Is it time to wake up?”

  Gray Wing lapped the black-and-white tom-kit’s cheek softly. “No. Go back to sleep.”

  Black Ear rested his muzzle on his sister’s back and closed his eyes.

  Slate’s gaze met Gray Wing. “Will they ever be safe?”

  He pressed his cheek to hers. “Nothing bad will happen to our kits,” he promised softly. “Not as long as I live.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Clear Sky settled down on the crooked bough that overhung the camp. The frosty bark felt cold against his belly. An icy chill had gripped the forest overnight and hadn’t let go. Gazing down, he watched Tiny Branch, Dew Petal, and Flower Foot as they charged around the clearing. Each time they scampered past the yew, they peeked into the shadows, their eyes wide with gleeful terror.

  Clear Sky’s whiskers twitched with amusement. They’d been playing this game since sunhigh. Blossom was crouching deep beneath the yew.

  As Dew Petal raced past, the tiny she-cat veered enticingly close to the bush. The yew trembled. Blossom darted out, grabbed the kit, and bundled her inside.

  Dew Petal squealed with fear and delight as Flower Foot and Tiny Branch raced to rescue her. They dived beneath the branches, their fluffy tails sticking up.

  “Let her go!”

  Clear Sky heard Tiny Branch’s defiant mew.

  “You can’t have her!” Flower Foot hissed.

  Blossom’s ominous growl sounded from the shadows. “I’m going to eat her all up!”

  “Nooooo!” Dew Petal half purred and half wailed.

  The yew trembled again, and Tiny Branch backed out, pulling Dew Petal with him. Flower Foot scrambled clear, swiping at Blossom as the tortoiseshell stuck her nose from beneath the branches.

  “I’ll get you next time!” Blossom pretended to threaten the kits as they ran clear and skidded to a halt at the far side of the clearing.

  Clear Sky purred with pride as he saw them bunch together, shooting glances at the yew. He guessed they were planning their revenge.

  Sparrow Fur and Thorn glanced at the kits from the edge of the clearing, where they were sorting through the prey pile. Since Slash had stopped stealing from the group, no cat had gone hungry. Prey was still scarce, but Clear Sky was pleased to see that his campmates were growing ever more skillful at hunting. Red had brought a pigeon back yesterday. He’d climbed a tree to reach it, and promised to show the others how to hide in the crook of a branch and wait for birds.

  Clear Sky had asked Red about Slash, of course. Red had confessed that he was from Slash’s group, hanging his head with shame as he begged Clear Sky to believe that he’d only hidden the truth about being a rogue because he’d wanted to stay with Clear Sky’s group so much. Clear Sky wanted to trust him, and yet Red had misled him. And he couldn’t forget that Red had led dogs into Slash’s camp. That was a dumb mistake. And dangerous. What if the rogue brought dogs here?

  At the edge of the camp, Quick Water pushed her paw through the ice covering a puddle and lapped from it. “You must be thirsty,” she called to the kits. “You’ve been running around all morning.”

  Their eyes lit up, and they raced to the she-cat’s side and lapped eagerly from the puddle while Quick Water gingerly picked up a hunk of ice between her teeth and carried it across the clearing. She padded past Birch and Alder, who were sharing tongues at the bottom of the short slope that led to Clear Sky’s den.

  Birch shuddered as water dripped from the ice onto his tail. “Are you taking a drink to Star Flower?”

  Quick Water nodded and hopped up the bank.

  Nettle and Red padded into camp, their paws flecked with frost. A mouse hung from Red’s jaws.

  Nettle called to Clear Sky. “Gorse Fur is heading this way. We’ve just seen him crossing the border.”

  Clear Sky pushed himself to his paws and leaped down from the branch. Landing lightly beside Red, he glanced at the camp entrance.

  Dew Petal, Tiny Branch, and Flower Foot hurried toward him.

  “Can we go and meet him?” Tiny Branch asked excitedly.

  Clear Sky flicked his tail. “You’re not old enough to leave camp.”

  Dew Petal rolled her eyes. “You always say that!”

  “We get older every day,” Flower Foot argued. “When will we be old enough?”

  Nettle nudged the kit’s cheek with his muzzle. “When you can fight a fox.”

  “Or a rogue,” Red added.

  Tiny Branch squared up to Red. “Let me practice on you!” he begged. “You were a rogue once.” He reared on his hind legs and threw a forepaw at Red’s muzzle. Red pretended to stagger and collapsed to the ground. Dew Petal leaped onto his flank, squeaking with delight. Flower Foot grabbed the tom’s tail. Wrapping her forepaws around it, she churned it with her hind legs. Tiny Branch flu
ng himself onto the tom, and Red rolled over, purring as the kits swarmed over him.

  Clear Sky shifted his paws uneasily. Should I trust him?

  He shivered as he watched his kits pummeling Red. They squeaked with delight as, purring, Red begged for mercy. “No! Please let me go!” The kits were still so small, the glossy russet tom could shake them off any time he liked. A dog could snap them in two with a single bite.

  Nettle interrupted Clear Sky’s thoughts. “Should I escort Gorse Fur through the woods?”

  “What?” Clear Sky blinked at the gray tom, only half hearing.

  “I don’t need an escort.” Gorse Fur padded through the entrance. He dipped his head to Clear Sky. “I hope I am welcome.”

  “Of course.” Clear Sky hurried to meet the moor cat, worry pricking in his paws as he saw the somber expression in the tom’s eyes. “Is something wrong?”

  Gorse Fur glanced at the kits and padded to the edge of the clearing. He lowered his voice as Clear Sky followed. “One of our rogues has gone back to Slash,” he murmured.

  Clear Sky leaned close, alarm flashing through his fur. “Which one?”

  “Bee.”

  So these rogues aren’t trustworthy? Fear curled icy claws in his belly. “The others are still loyal?”

  “They say they are. Fern’s badly wounded. Bee attacked her before she ran away.” Gorse Fur sat down and curled his tail across his paws. “Wind Runner is worried that the other rogues might do the same. I’m visiting the camps to warn all the leaders.”

  “Do you know why Bee went back to Slash?”

  “She said we are mouse-hearts and she’d rather live with real cats like Slash.”

  Clear Sky glanced at Red.

  Gorse Fur followed his gaze. “Do you trust him?”

  Clear Sky’s thoughts were whirling. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

  “Does he help with camp duties?” Gorse Fur asked softly.

  “Yes.” Red was always first to volunteer for morning patrol. And he still caught far more prey than he ate.