Page 24 of Path of Stars


  “Gray Wing?” Silver Stripe huddled next to him. “Slate’s been gone for ages. She is coming back, isn’t she?”

  “Of course she is,” Gray Wing rasped.

  White Tail nuzzled closer. “And Black Ear?”

  “Gorse Fur said they found him.” Gray Wing coughed weakly. “Slate’s fetching him right now.”

  “Save your breath.” Swift Minnow padded closer and sat beside Gray Wing, pressing the kits between her flank and his. She wrapped her tail over their tiny bodies, protecting them from the thickening snow. “Wind Runner’s right. You should all be inside.”

  Gray Wing didn’t answer. He didn’t dare take his gaze from the gorse entrance. For a moment his thoughts drifted into the past, moons ago, when he’d waited for Turtle Tail to return from Twolegplace. She’d never come home. Let Slate come home. His heart ached with the need to see her and Black Ear.

  Moth Flight padded from Spotted Fur’s den.

  Reed Tail glanced at her. “How is he?”

  Moth Flight fluffed out her fur. “He’s asleep.”

  “Any sign of fever?”

  “No,” Moth Flight told him. “I felt his muzzle. It was cool. His wounds are all clean, and the dressing Pebble Heart made will keep them from turning sour.”

  White Tail fidgeted beside Gray Wing. “I want Slate. I’m hungry.”

  “She’ll be home soon,” Gray Wing murmured weakly.

  Swift Minnow glanced toward the snow-capped prey pile. “You could try some mouse.”

  “He’s too young,” Wind Runner mewed.

  “Perhaps I could chew it for him first—”

  “Hush.” Gray Wing pricked his ears. Paw steps were crunching through the snow outside the camp. He struggled to push himself up, but his paws buckled beneath him. Slate can’t see me so helpless! Panic surged through him, stealing the small breath he had left. He began to cough.

  “It’s okay.” Swift Minnow lapped his pelt with long smooth strokes. “She’s coming. Everything will be all right.”

  Gray Wing’s heart quickened as the gorse trembled and Slate padded into camp. Black Ear was clinging to her back.

  He slithered down as soon as he saw Gray Wing. “Why are you lying there in the snow?” He raced toward his father and flung himself against Gray Wing’s chest, huddling in the soft fur. “Slash stole me, but I escaped!” he mewed. “Now I’m home! I missed you so much.”

  Gray Wing’s throat tightened as White Tail and Silver Stripe scrambled out from beneath Swift Minnow’s tail and greeted their brother.

  “White Tail said Slash ate you!” Silver Stripe squeaked.

  “I did not!” White Tail pushed his sister out of the way and nuzzled Black Ear, purring.

  Gray Wing breathed their scent as they huddled beneath his chin.

  Then his gaze met Slate’s.

  She had stopped a tail-length away. Her eyes glistened with grief as she stared at him.

  I’m sorry. Guilt washed over Gray Wing’s pelt. He’d promised to help her raise their kits, but he knew that with each desperate breath, he was coming closer to his end. She’d have to raise them alone.

  Slate blinked her sadness away. “Give your father some space.” Padding forward, she scooped White Tail away by his scruff.

  “Is Black Ear okay?” Gray Wing searched Slate’s gaze.

  “He’s fine,” she told him. “But he’s had quite an adventure. He can tell you about it once we’ve got you into your den, where it’s warm.”

  As she spoke, Gray Wing realized that Thunder, Pebble Heart, Jagged Peak, and Clear Sky had followed her into camp. Clear Sky was leaning against Thunder, his battered tail slick with sticky herbs. Gray Wing blinked at his brother. “What happened?”

  But Slate was already nudging him to his paws. “Let’s get you out of the snow,” she mewed briskly. He wobbled, and she pressed against him. Wind Runner ducked around his other side, and they steered him toward his den.

  After helping him inside, they let him drop into his nest. It felt soft and warm beneath him. The roomy gorse cave was dark. Evening light filtered through the entrance. He lay still for a moment while he struggled for breath. Then Silver Stripe, Black Ear, and White Tail charged in.

  “Thunder says Black Ear was nearly killed by a monster,” White Tail told him as he scrambled into the nest beside him.

  “But Clear Sky saved him,” Silver Stripe added, hopping in after him.

  “One of the rogues dropped me right in the middle of the Thunderpath,” Black Ear announced dramatically.

  Gray Wing’s heart lurched.

  Slate bustled past him. “But you’re safe now,” she told Black Ear. “That’s all that matters.” She scooped him up and placed him beside the others.

  Happy to feel the kits warm against his flank, Gray Wing tried to purr. But he wasn’t strong enough and started coughing.

  “Is Gray Wing sick?” Black Ear asked Slate.

  White Tail lifted his nose knowledgeably. “He’s got the sniffles. Reed Tail’s been giving him herbs just like the ones he gave me when I had the sniffles.”

  Gray Wing didn’t dare look at Slate. Grief clawed his heart.

  Wind Runner padded forward and met Gray Wing’s gaze. “I’m glad you got Black Ear back.” Sorrow clouded her eyes. “We’ll never lose him again. I promise that your kits will always be safe here.” Suddenly she thrust her nose forward and touched it to Gray Wing’s head. “Good-bye, old friend.”

  Silver Stripe frowned, puzzled. “Why’s Wind Runner acting soppy?”

  Gray Wing’s throat tightened. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.” He held Wind Runner’s gaze for a moment. Then she turned away, and he watched her pad from the den. Gray Wing pulled Black Ear closer. He trusted Wind Runner to keep her word. She was a brave and honorable leader, and he felt fortunate to have been trusted by her. Whatever happened, his kits would be safe.

  As she disappeared into the evening light, Thunder stuck his head in. “Can I come in?”

  Gray Wing blinked at him. “Yes,” he rasped. “Pebble Heart, Jagged Peak, and Clear Sky must come too.” He wanted to see the faces that had meant so much to him.

  Jagged Peak entered first. Gray Wing blinked warmly at the reckless younger brother whose fearlessness had led him here. Was there still a spark of spirit in his solemn blue eyes? Gray Wing searched them through the half-light and saw only grief.

  Pebble Heart followed, and Gray Wing tried to purr as he saw him, warmth flooding his heart. Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes should be here too. They’d helped rescue Black Ear. Turtle Tail would have been proud of them. Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes had matured over the moons from feisty kits into brave, trustworthy cats. But Pebble Heart had not changed. Turtle Tail’s quietest kit had always been so serious, and yet in his seriousness there had always been kindness and wisdom. “Look,” Gray Wing whispered to Black Ear as he held him close.

  Black Ear stopped wriggling and followed his gaze. “Why? It’s only Pebble Heart.”

  “Pebble Heart is the gentlest cat I know,” Gray Wing breathed. “Go to him if you’re ever in trouble. He will always know what to do.”

  Thunder padded into the den, his huge white paws bright in the fading light. Gray Wing gazed at him proudly. The hotheaded young tom had become a strong leader. His cats looked up to him. Gray Wing had seen the warmth and respect with which his campmates looked at him.

  White Tail put his paws on the side of the nest and stared at the forest cat. “Why is everyone visiting you, Gray Wing?”

  They’ve come to say good-bye. Gray Wing lapped White Tail’s head. “They’ve come to make sure Black Ear’s okay.”

  “But why them?” White Tail pressed. “Are they kin?”

  “Yes,” Gray Wing told him gently.

  He frowned. “Then why don’t they live in our group?”

  “They have their own groups.”

  Groups. Suddenly the word didn’t seem enough to describe the closeness he felt for his campmates. Wind Ru
nner, Gorse Fur, Slate, Swift Minnow, Reed Tail, and Spotted Fur—he suddenly realized that he felt as close to them as he felt to his own kin. His thoughts quickened, searching for a word that meant more than groups. A word that reflected the kinship he felt for those he hunted and fought beside. “They have their own Clans,” he meowed suddenly.

  Pebble Heart blinked. “Clans!” Satisfaction sparked in his gaze. “The five Clans, like the five petals of the Blazing Star.”

  Black Ear pricked his ears. “What’s our Clan called?”

  Gray Wing paused. What name would reflect all they had come from and how they lived? He thought of the high, wide moor, the breeze forever streaming through his pelt. “We are WindClan,” he whispered at last.

  Silver Stripe clambered onto Gray Wing’s flank. “Then Thunder’s group must be ThunderClan.”

  White Tail hopped up beside his sister. “And Tall Shadow’s Clan can be ShadowClan!”

  Black Ear squirmed free of Gray Wing. “River Ripple’s group must be RiverClan!”

  Slate slid into the nest beside him and pressed her flank to his. Warmth flowed through his fur, reaching his bones.

  “What should Clear Sky’s group be called?” White Tail asked.

  Gray Wing gazed at Clear Sky. His brother’s fur was matted. His cheek was swollen, his eyes dull with pain. And yet Gray Wing recognized the determined gaze he’d known as a kit when they’d shared a nest in the mountains and explored the cave together. It had been Clear Sky who had cajoled and bullied him into taking his first peek at the snow beyond the waterfall. Whatever had happened in Gray Wing’s life, Clear Sky had been part of it, and whatever troubles they had faced, Clear Sky had always had his gaze fixed bravely on the distant horizon. “SkyClan,” Gray Wing breathed, reaching for his brother’s gaze with the dark knowledge that soon he’d see it no more.

  Clear Sky’s whiskers twitched. “SkyClan,” he murmured. “Trust you to name my Clan for something beyond my reach.”

  Gray Wing held his gaze. “The sky is all around you,” he mewed softly. “You walk through it every day. It’s just that you don’t realize it.” He went on before Clear Sky could speak. “Did you really save my kit?”

  Thunder butted in. “He risked his life to grab him from the paws of a monster.”

  “Thank you.” Gray Wing’s mew was hoarse.

  Movement caught his eye. In the shadows behind Clear Sky, stars seemed to sparkle. The walls of the gorse den shifted as a new face appeared, a face Gray Wing recognized at once. “Bright Stream!” He could see her as she stopped beside Clear Sky. Two kits stood at her paws, one tabby and one pale gray.

  She blinked at him, then touched her nose to the kits’ heads. “They are the kits I was carrying when I died,” she whispered.

  Gray Wing’s gaze darted to Clear Sky. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Clear Sky tipped his head.

  “Bright Stream! She’s beside you. With your kits.”

  “My kits?” Clear Sky shifted his paws uneasily. “Can you see them now?”

  “Yes! She was carrying them when she died.” Joy filled Gray Wing’s heart. “They’re . . . beautiful.”

  Bright Stream purred, stars twinkling in her whiskers. “They will be with me always.”

  Another cat stepped from the shadowy depths of the den. Shaded Moss! Gray Wing recognized him with joy. And Rainswept Flower! More dead cats from his past gathered around the living, making the den walls sparkle with their starry pelts. Storm, whom both he and Clear Sky had once loved, stood with her kits. And Stoneteller, her eyes softly welcoming as she met Gray Wing’s gaze. Quiet Rain, too, and his tiny sister, Fluttering Bird. Moon Shadow dipped his head, his pelt lustrous, with no sign of the pain that had tortured him in his final moments.

  Turtle Tail!

  She blinked at him, her eyes sparkling with sadness as her gaze flitted to White Tail, Black Ear, and Silver Stripe. “I wish you could stay with them, Gray Wing,” she whispered. “But it’s their destiny to know you only as a memory.”

  Pain gripped Gray Wing’s chest. His breath was so shallow that he could hardly breathe at all. And still, familiar pelts glimmered from the shadows—Hawk Swoop and Jackdaw’s Cry, their tails entwined. And Wind Runner’s tiny kits, pressing close to Turtle Tail. Every cat he’d known was here. All the friends he’d lost—on the journey, in the Great Battle, from illness or from accident. They were all here, waiting for him to join them.

  “Gray Wing?” Slate’s mew ruffled his ear fur. “What are you looking at?”

  Gray Wing took a shuddering breath. “They’ve come for me. They’re not dead. They’re just waiting for me to go with them.” He nuzzled Slate’s cheek. “Never forget how much I love you.” Then he touched the heads of his kits one by one. “Silver Stripe, be brave and take care of your mother. White Tail, learn all that you can so that one day you will make your Clan proud. Black Ear, forgive any harm you’ve been done and show kindness to your Clanmates. For we are all fighting a hard battle, and sometimes kindness is all we need.”

  Black Ear blinked at him, his eyes clouding with confusion. “You sound like you’re saying good-bye.”

  “I am.” Gray Wing lapped his cheek.

  “No!” Black Ear scrambled over his flank and began pummeling his shoulder.

  “Don’t go!” White Tail’s cry faded as Gray Wing felt his last breath leave his body. The tightness in his chest eased as the invisible jaws finally let go.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Gray Wing got to his paws. Lightly he stepped from his nest. He glanced back and saw Slate, Silver Stripe, White Tail, and Black Ear clinging to the body he no longer needed. “I will always be watching you,” he whispered.

  He turned toward the starry cats, and they moved aside and let him pass. Padding into the shadows of the den, he felt their pelts brush his and heard their welcoming purrs.

  He walked at their side, deeper into the darkness, until the gorse walls opened onto a vast horizon of rolling hills. In the distance, the sun was rising, sending dazzling streams of light spilling over the earth.

  I have traveled so far and loved so much, and yet I am still following the Sun Trail, heading for my new hunting grounds.

  EXCERPT FROM WARRIORS: A VISION OF SHADOWS #1: THE APPRENTICE’S QUEST

  A new adventure begins for the warrior Clans.

  Read on for a sneak peek at

  For many moons, the warrior cats have lived in peace in their territories around the lake. But a dark shadow looms on the horizon, and the time has come for Alderpaw—son of the ThunderClan leader, Bramblestar, and his deputy, Squirrelflight—to shape his destiny . . . and the fate of all the warrior Clans.

  CHAPTER 1

  Alderkit stood in front of the nursery, nervously shifting his weight. He unsheathed his claws, digging them into the beaten earth of the stone hollow, then sheathed them again and shook dust from his paws.

  Now what happens? he asked himself, his belly churning as he thought about his apprentice ceremony that was only moments away. What if there’s some sort of an assessment before I can be an apprentice?

  Alderkit thought he had heard something about an assessment once. Perhaps it had been a few moons ago when Hollytuft, Fernsong, and Sorrelstripe were made warriors. But I can’t really remember . . . I was so little then.

  His heart started to pound faster and faster. He tried to convince himself that some cat would have told him if he was supposed to prove that he was ready. Because I’m not sure that I am ready to become an apprentice. Not sure at all. What if I can’t do it?

  Deep in his own thoughts, Alderkit jumped in surprise as some cat nudged him hard from behind. Spinning around, he saw his sister Sparkkit, her orange tabby fur bushing out in all directions.

  “Aren’t you excited?” she asked with an enthusiastic bounce. “Don’t you want to know who your mentor will be? I hope I get someone fun! Not a bossy cat like Berrynose, or one like Whitewing. She sticks so close to the rules I think she must r
ecite the warrior code in her sleep!”

  “That’s enough.” The kits’ mother, Squirrelflight, emerged from the nursery in time to hear Sparkkit’s last words. “You’re not supposed to have fun with your mentor,” she added, licking one paw and smoothing it over Sparkkit’s pelt. “You’re supposed to learn from them. Berrynose and Whitewing are both fine warriors. You’d be very lucky to have either of them as your mentor.”

  Though Squirrelflight’s voice was sharp, her green gaze shone with love for her kits. Alderkit knew how much his mother adored him and his sister. He was only a kit, but he knew that Squirrelflight was old to have her first litter, and he remembered their shared grief for his lost littermates: Juniperkit, who had barely taken a breath before he died, and Dandelionkit, who had never been strong and who had slowly weakened until she also died two moons later.

  Sparkkit and I have to be the best cats we can be for Squirrelflight and Bramblestar.

  Sparkkit, meanwhile, wasn’t at all cowed by her mother’s scolding. She twitched her tail and cheerfully shook her pelt until her fur fluffed up again.

  Alderkit wished he had her confidence. He hadn’t wondered until now who his mentor would be, and he gazed around the clearing at the other cats with new and curious eyes. Ivypool would be an okay mentor, he thought, spotting the silver-and-white tabby she-cat returning from a hunting patrol with Lionblaze and Blossomfall. She’s friendly and a good hunter. Lionblaze is a bit scary, though. Alderkit suppressed a shiver at the sight of the muscles rippling beneath the golden warrior’s pelt. And it won’t be Blossomfall, because she was just mentor for Hollytuft. Or Brackenfur or Rosepetal, because they mentored Sorrelstripe and Fernsong.

  Lost in thought, Alderkit watched Thornclaw, who had paused in the middle of the clearing to give himself a good scratch behind one ear. He’d probably be okay, though he’s sort of short-tempered. . . .

  “Hey, wake up!” Sparkkit trod down hard on Alderkit’s paw. “It’s starting!”