Gorse Fur blinked at Clear Sky. “Wind Runner is worried that the rogues have infiltrated our groups to cause trouble. But I can’t believe it. Willow is desperate to have her revenge on Bee. And why would Bee hurt Fern so badly if they were both part of the deception?” The wiry tom paused. “And yet it does no harm to be careful until we’re sure where the rogues’ real loyalties lie.”
Clear Sky nodded and padded back to the clearing. “Tiny Branch! Dew Petal! Flower Foot! You’ve been playing all day. You must be tired. Go rest with Star Flower.”
The kits stopped scrambling over Red and stared at their father, puzzled.
“But it’s not even sunset,” Tiny Branch complained.
“It soon will be,” Clear Sky told him firmly. “Another frost is coming. You’ll be warmer in your nest.”
“But we were having fun,” Flower Foot huffed.
Dew Petal lashed her stumpy tail. “It’s not fair!”
Clear Sky frowned. “Go to your nest.” Guilt pricked in his belly as the three kits clambered slowly off Red and padded toward the slope.
Tiny Branch glanced reproachfully over his shoulder. “It’s not like we’ve done anything wrong.”
“I know.” Clear Sky’s heart twisted in his chest. “Go and keep Star Flower company. I’ll bring you something to eat soon.”
As they scrambled up the slope, Nettle hurried toward Clear Sky. “Has something happened?” He nodded toward the kits as they disappeared through the bracken. “Why did you make them stop playing?”
Red jumped to his paws. He shook out his fur and headed for the fresh-kill pile.
Clear Sky watched him go. “Gorse Fur says one of their rogues has returned to Slash,” he told Nettle quietly.
Nettle’s gaze flashed toward Red. “Do you think he might do the same?”
Clear Sky’s ears twitched. An idea was pushing at the edges of his thoughts. “I don’t know, but we need to find out.”
Gorse Fur got to his paws and dipped his head. “I must go. I want to warn Thunder and River Ripple before dark.”
As the moor cat headed for the entrance, Clear Sky called after him. “Will Fern be okay?”
“She’s strong, and she’s recovering quickly,” Gorse Fur answered without stopping.
“I wish her the best.” Clear Sky watched Gorse Fur disappear through the bramble barrier. “Thanks for coming.”
Nettle’s pelt was rippling along his spine. “How will you find out if Red can be trusted?”
Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. “I have a plan . . . but I need you to help me.”
Rosy dawn light seeped between the bare branches. Clear Sky crouched lower beneath the arching root of an oak. Leaving the camp while the moon still shone, he’d tracked Nettle and Red’s scent here. The two cats had been hunting all night.
“Why?” Red had asked when Clear Sky had drawn him aside and told him that he was to spend the night hunting.
“It’s a test of your skills,” Clear Sky told him. “And your courage. Nettle will go with you. You must hunt, but you cannot eat. Every piece of prey that you catch is for your campmates.”
Red had blinked at him uncertainly, then nodded. “Okay.”
Now he could see Red’s pelt, fluffed out against the icy air. Clear Sky was downwind and hidden by the root. Neither cat would be able to see him.
He watched Nettle pad around the russet rogue. “Let’s eat one piece of prey,” Nettle meowed pleadingly. “I’m starving. Clear Sky will never know.”
“I promised him I’d take everything I caught back to camp,” Red told him. “You can eat if you want, but I’m not going to.”
Nettle rolled his eyes. “You’re a mouse-brain.” He pawed a dead mouse from beneath a pile of leaves and bit into it. “So delicious.” Chewing, he looked at Red. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”
Clear Sky leaned forward. The scent of fresh blood was making his mouth water. Red must be starving and frozen to the bone.
Red padded away from his campmate. “I promised Clear Sky, and I’m sticking to my promise.”
Clear Sky frowned. Was Red being smart? Had he guessed that Nettle was spying for him? It was time to push the rogue a little harder. He slid from beneath the root and padded toward the toms.
He caught Nettle’s eye as he neared. Red was scanning the trees distractedly, clearly looking for more prey. Quickly, Nettle swallowed his mouthful and kicked the remains of the mouse closer to the rogue.
Clear Sky padded toward them, his hackles high. “I thought I told you not to eat what you caught?”
Red swung around, shock rippling through his pelt. His gaze flashed guiltily to the remains of the mouse, then to Nettle.
Nettle blinked at Red calmly. “I told you we weren’t supposed to eat.”
Red stared at him in disbelief. “But—” He paused, then faced Clear Sky. “I’m sorry,” he meowed. “We were so hungry. We thought you wouldn’t miss one mouse.”
Clear Sky tipped his head in surprise. Red was taking the blame for his campmate. He forced himself to frown. “I need to be able to trust you,” he growled.
“I promise, it will never happen again.” Red began to haul away leaves from the pile, uncovering a heap of prey. A rabbit lay beside several shrews and another mouse. Two thrushes and a starling were draped over them. “We caught so much. No one will go hungry. And, if they do, I’ll go without food.”
This cat is too good to be true! Suspicion wormed beneath Clear Sky’s pelt. Why was Red being so honorable? He narrowed his eyes. “That’s not enough!” he snapped. “Catch more before you return to camp.” Turning sharply, he stalked away. As he passed a clump of bracken, he ducked down and spied on Red once more.
Nettle scraped leaves back over the prey heap. “Why did you take the blame?”
Red shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
Nettle narrowed his eyes. “Clear Sky would never take the blame for you.”
“Wouldn’t he?” Red blinked at Nettle in surprise.
“You know he’s the meanest cat in all the groups, right?” Nettle didn’t wait for an answer. “He was spying on us! After making us stay out all night hunting, he still doesn’t trust us. He doesn’t trust anyone. Not even me, and I’ve shown him nothing but loyalty.” Nettle snorted. “Being loyal to Clear Sky is a waste of time. He’s hardly better than Slash. Did you know he killed a cat once? More than one. His campmates only put up with him because they’re scared of him.”
“But he’s so kind to Star Flower and his kits.”
“Of course he is,” Nettle snarled. “They belong to him. But he wasn’t so kind to his first litter. Their mother ran away from him.”
Clear Sky winced. He’d asked Nettle to test Red’s loyalty, but he hadn’t prepared himself to hear such harsh truths.
“Only one of them survived,” Nettle went on.
“You mean Thunder?” Red’s fur was prickling nervously now. “What happened to his littermates?”
Nettle slowly circled the rogue. “No one knows,” he murmured darkly.
Red shifted his paws nervously. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you were a rogue once,” Nettle told him. “Like me. Like most of the group. We thought you’d understand.”
“We?” Red looked confused.
“A lot of us aren’t happy with Clear Sky as leader,” Nettle confessed. “When we found out you were one of the cats who drove Slash out, we started to hope.”
“Hope for what?”
“That you’d help us do the same to Clear Sky.” Nettle stopped and stared hard at Red.
Red backed away, hackles rising. “You want me to drive Clear Sky out?”
“You only have to help us.” Nettle’s mew grew enticing. “With Clear Sky gone, there’ll be no more orders. No more night hunting. No more going hungry to feed your campmates.”
“No.” Red showed his teeth. “Clear Sky is a good leader. You’re lucky to have him. If you think he’s
bad, then you’ve never met a cat like Slash.” His tail whisked ominously as he thrust his muzzle closer to Nettle’s. “I can’t believe that you’d think I’d betray him!”
Nettle half closed his eyes. “What if we made you leader?”
With a hiss, Red lashed out at the gray tom.
Nettle yowled as the rogue slashed his nose. Jumping back, he lifted his paws defensively. “Okay! Forget I said anything.”
A growl rolled in Red’s throat. He dropped into an attack crouch. “You’re a traitor.”
Nettle backed away. “It was just an idea—”
Red leaped at him, snarling.
Heart lurching, Clear Sky sprang from his hiding place and raced for the two cats. Hooking his claws into Red’s scruff, he dragged him away from Nettle.
Red twisted free, anger blazing in his eyes. “Why did you stop me?” he glared at Clear Sky. “He’s a traitor! He wanted me to help drive you out! He—”
Clear Sky interrupted. “I told him to.”
Red’s eyes widened. “You?” Confusion clouded his gaze. “Why?”
Before Clear Sky could explain, Red’s tail drooped. “You were testing me!” Disappointment filled his mew.
Clear Sky’s pelt rippled guiltily. “Gorse Fur brought news that Bee has gone back to Slash. She attacked Fern before she left. I had to be sure you weren’t going to do the same.” The words tumbled out as he tried to justify himself.
Red blinked at him, and Clear Sky hesitated as he waited for the rogue to react. Had he pushed him too far? Would Red leave? Clear Sky’s belly tightened. He didn’t want to lose such a loyal and honest campmate.
“The kits.” Red’s mew was husky when he spoke at last. “You saw me playing with them, and you needed to know if you could trust me.” Understanding flooded his gaze.
Clear Sky stared at the ground. “I can’t risk anything happening to them.”
Red seemed to relax. “I would protect your kits with my life,” he promised.
Clear Sky looked up and saw honesty shining in the rogue’s eyes. “I believe you would.” He nodded to Nettle. “I think it’s time we officially made Red part of the group.”
CHAPTER 19
Thunder stretched up onto his hind legs. The branches of the hazel bush poked his belly as he reached high and threaded bracken between the twigs.
“This one is strong.” Violet passed him another stem, and he hooked it with a claw and poked it in beside the first.
His legs ached with the effort, but it would be worth it. Snow was coming. He could smell it deep in the thick frost that had settled over the forest. The woven bracken would keep the cold wind out of the den that the cats had made inside the hazel. On the coldest nights, Milkweed, Clover, and Thistle could leave their bramble nursery and huddle for warmth with the rest of the group. Clover and Thistle were nearly old enough to move permanently into their own nests in the hazel den.
He dropped down onto four paws to rest for a moment. The stack of bracken beside Violet seemed to have grown. He blinked in surprise.
“Cloud Spots gathered more,” Violet explained. She nodded toward the black tom’s tail as it disappeared into the bracken patch beside the fallen tree. “He wants to keep us well supplied.”
Thunder glanced at the hazel bush. “We’ll need it.” Gaps still showed between every branch. It was already past sunhigh. By the end of the day he wanted every gap filled. His cats were going to sleep in warm nests tonight. He turned to Milkweed. “Have you found much moss?” Extra moss lining would keep out the cold.
Milkweed hopped down from the fallen tree where she’d been peeling moss and dropped a shred onto the pile she’d already gathered. “I’ve stripped the trunk. I’d better head up the ravine to search for more.”
Thunder glanced toward the top of the hollow. “Be careful up there by yourself.” Since Gorse Fur had brought news of Bee’s betrayal, he’d been wary of fresh attacks. Lightning Tail and Leaf were training Clover and Thistle in the clearing below the high rock. They’d abandoned hunting moves and were practicing battle moves once more.
Owl Eyes padded from the tangle of branches jutting from the fallen tree. “I’ll keep an eye on Milkweed,” he promised. “I’m going to show Pink Eyes the new route I found up the cliff.”
Pink Eyes followed Owl Eyes into the leaf-bare sunshine. “I can still manage the old route.”
“Your eyesight is getting worse, Pink Eyes,” Owl Eyes told him. “One wrong leap and you could fall. This new route is safer. The ledges are closer together.”
Pink Eyes snorted as he followed Owl Eyes through the gorse barrier. “I can see well enough to jump down a few ledges.”
Milkweed hurried after them. “I’ll stay close to the top of the ravine and call down if I see Sl—” She paused as her eyes met Violet’s.
“Slash.” Violet guessed her next word. “It’s okay to say his name. I don’t like him any more than you do.” She hooked up a fresh stalk of bracken. “When will you realize I’m not a rogue anymore?”
Milkweed dipped her head. “Of course,” she purred. “And we’re glad to have you.”
Thunder glanced at Violet as Milkweed headed out of camp. He was pleased that his campmates had accepted her, but he wasn’t surprised. She was kind to everyone. She picked stale moss from Pink Eyes’s nest each morning. She joined every hunting patrol. And she made sure Clover and Thistle got the juiciest prey from the prey pile.
If only Ember fit into the group as easily. But the orange tom still chose to hunt alone. He left camp at dawn each morning and returned, fed and silent, with nothing for the prey pile. Last night he hadn’t come home at all.
“So?” Violet’s mew interrupted his thoughts. “Are we finishing this or are you going to stare at me all day?” There was a purr in her mew.
Heat flashed through Thunder’s pelt, and he looked away quickly. He’d forgotten he’d been gazing at her pretty face.
Violet reached up beside him and began to thread a piece of bracken through the hazel branches. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “I like looking at you, too.” She didn’t meet his gaze but poked the bracken deeper into the bush.
Thunder fumbled for something to say. Excitement fizzed through his fur. He’d spent sleepless nights wondering if Violet felt the same way about him as he did about her. On first sight, Thunder had been amazed by her beauty. But after sharing a camp with her, he thought she was the most warm, kind, helpful cat he’d ever known. Somehow he’d never found the courage to tell her. Perhaps this was his chance.
“Violet?” He glanced at her as she stooped to grab another stem.
She paused and met his gaze. “Yes?” Interest sparkled in her amber eyes.
“Do you think we could . . .” Thunder’s pelt prickled nervously. What should he say next? His tongue lay like dead prey in his mouth. “Perhaps . . .” He started again but found himself staring at her, fear tying knots in his belly.
Clover’s call made him jump. “Thunder! Look at this.”
He spun around and saw the young cat crouching beside her brother. Lightning Tail faced them, his hackles up, while Leaf prowled behind them.
Thistle blinked at Thunder. “Lightning Tail taught us how to fight together.”
Leaf narrowed his eyes. “Ready?” he asked the kits.
Clover nodded. Thistle flicked his tail.
Leaf swapped glances with Lightning Tail; then both toms lunged at the kits.
In a moment, Clover and Thistle had reared up. Turning on their hind legs, they pressed their backs to each other and swiped at Lightning Tail and Leaf with their forepaws. Lightning Tail and Leaf darted around them, but each time they moved, Clover and Thistle turned to meet their snapping jaws with well-aimed blows. Working together, the littermates defended themselves like experienced fighters.
Thunder purred loudly. “That’s great!” He padded toward them, his heart swelling with pride.
Leaf and Lightning Tail backed away, and the kits dropped back ont
o all fours.
“It’s really easy once we’ve found our footing,” Clover panted.
“We could fight off a whole patrol!” Thistle boasted.
Violet padded after Thunder and blinked at the young cats. “Even rogues wouldn’t be able to counter a move like that.”
Clover lifted her chin. “If Slash attacks us again, we’ll be able to defend the whole camp.”
Thistle’s gaze darkened. “Will he attack again?”
Thunder met his gaze solemnly. “I don’t know.” Thunder’s cats could defend the ravine if they had to, but he was uneasy about having Ember sleep alongside them. Since Bee’s attack on Fern, a dark fear had haunted his dreams. What if Ember was staying with the group for a reason? What if he, too, was planning to betray his new campmates?
Violet nudged him. “We’d better get back to work.” She glanced toward the hazel bush. Cloud Spots was carrying a fresh bundle of bracken toward the pile.
“We can help!” Thistle ran past Thunder and raced toward the hazel.
Clover chased after him. “I can thread bracken quicker than you.”
Cloud Spots blinked at them warmly as they barged in front of him. “You two had better start on the lower branches,” he suggested. “I’ll reach up to the top.”
As they began work, padding the bush against the cold, Thunder blinked at Lightning Tail. “You’ve taught them well.”
Lightning Tail shrugged. “That move was Leaf’s idea.”
Thunder dipped his head to Leaf. “Since you’ve been training them, they’ve improved so much.”
“I’ve enjoyed it,” Leaf answered. His glance flicked past Thunder toward the young cats. They were both tugging the same piece of bracken.
“I picked it up first!” Clover growled.
“You only want it because I said it looked like a strong piece,” Thistle retorted.
Leaf rolled his eyes. “We’ve trained them to fight rogues,” he huffed. “Now we must train them not to behave like rogues.” He headed toward them, whisking his tail. “Clover! Let your brother have the bracken. There are plenty of other stems.”