“There he is!” Lightning Tail’s whisper sounded in Thunder’s ear.
Stiffening, he followed his friend’s gaze.
Clear Sky was sitting in the middle of the flat rocks, his ears pricked. He was scanning the forest that crowded the edges of the stone, tail twitching excitedly. Thunder narrowed his eyes. Had Clear Sky spotted prey?
A familiar mew sounded from the trees beyond. “So, you decided to take me up on that hunting lesson?”
Thunder froze as Star Flower stalked from the trees and crossed the stone. She stopped just in front of Clear Sky and raised her bushy tail. The sun’s rays flashed through the clouds and turned her golden pelt to fire.
Lightning Tail stiffened beside Thunder. “What’s she doing here?”
Thunder didn’t answer. Jealousy was scorching through his chest as he watched the she-cat weave around Clear Sky. A low growl rumbled in his throat. No wonder he didn’t want me to patrol with him.
“I’m not here for hunting lessons.” Clear Sky blocked Star Flower’s path.
She stopped, her eyes glittering playfully. “Then why are you here? I invited you to meet me so I could teach you the ways of the forest.”
Clear Sky brushed around Star Flower, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped close to her muzzle. “You don’t need to teach me anything,” he meowed. “I’ve learned all I need to know. And I’ve learned it the hard way.”
“I told you,” Star Flower purred throatily. “We have more in common than you think.”
Clear Sky half closed his eyes. “Perhaps we do.”
Star Flower let her tail slide beneath Clear Sky’s chin.
Thunder curled his claws deep into the soft earth, imagining its softness flowing beneath his muzzle. She had used the same gesture when talking to him.
He stared at his father, willing Clear Sky to step away from the treacherous she-cat. But Clear Sky stood still while Star Flower padded slowly around him.
“You were going to give me some lessons in leadership,” she murmured.
“Not yet.” Clear Sky’s eyes flashed. “Before you can lead, you must learn how to follow.”
He’s encouraging her! Rage surged beneath Thunder’s pelt. Then fear. He knew better than any cat how Star Flower could turn against those she pretended to care for. She’d once convinced him that she wanted to join his group—that she wanted to be his mate. But she’d only been spying for One Eye. She’d told him she truly cared for him, but only after One Eye had died.
The anger burned in his belly. Why had she told him that? When she’d reappeared last half-moon, a tiny hope had sparked in his heart that she’d returned to the forest for him.
He watched, his pelt bristling, as Star Flower lay down, her tail swishing over the stone. She looked up at Clear Sky, her radiant green eyes catching the light. “Enjoy the sunshine with me.”
Thunder turned away and marched through the forest, growling under his breath.
Lightning Tail bounded after him. “Thunder!”
“I should have known,” Thunder snarled. “She never felt anything for me.”
Lightning Tail barged across his path. “Wait!”
Thunder glared at him. “Are you going to say that you told me so?”
Hurt sparked in Lightning Tail’s gaze, and Thunder felt instantly guilty. “I’m sorry.” He hung his head.
“I’m just glad you saw this before you did something mouse-brained like telling her you loved her.” Lightning Tail suddenly leaned closer. “You didn’t, did you?”
“No!” Thunder snapped. “I’m not that dumb.”
Lightning Tail glanced back toward the rocks. “It looks like Clear Sky is.”
Thunder’s heart lurched. He’d been so wrapped up in his own feelings, he hadn’t considered his father. “She’s using him!”
“What for?” Lightning Tail’s eyes darkened with worry.
“Because she can,” Thunder growled bitterly. “Because he’s the leader, and becoming his mate would give her power and influence.”
“But he knows she’s treacherous,” Lightning Tail reasoned. “He must realize what she’s doing and why. Perhaps he’s just seeing how far she’s willing to go.”
Thunder nodded slowly. Clear Sky’s main goal had been bringing the cats together, not finding a mate. “Of course. He’s letting Star Flower play her stupid games, making a fool of herself.” He stared blankly at Lightning Tail, his gaze clouding. Was that all it was with me too? A stupid game? Pain seared his heart. He shook out his pelt, fighting grief. “Leave me alone, Lightning Tail. I need to think.”
Lightning Tail stared at him anxiously. “You’re not going back there to confront them?”
“No.” Thunder retuned his friend’s gaze solemnly. “Clear Sky can make his own decisions. I don’t want anything to do with Star Flower.” He saw Lightning Tail’s fur smooth.
“Don’t stay out too long,” the black tom urged.
Thunder dipped his head. “I just need to clear my thoughts.”
He watched Lightning Tail head away until he was no more than a shadow moving through the wilting undergrowth. Making for the river, Thunder broke from the trees and gazed over River Ripple’s marshes. The reeds stirred and bent in the breeze. A gust whipped Thunder’s whiskers against his cheeks. As he glanced downstream to where the boulders rose above the water, a deep ache twisted his heart.
I really thought she had come back for me. But there’s only one cat Star Flower cares about, and that’s Star Flower.
CHAPTER 11
The weak leaf-bare sun was sliding toward the treetops before Clear Sky returned to camp.
Thunder had been watching out for him. His pelt twitched with annoyance as his father padded across the clearing and jumped past his nest among the oak roots onto the short steep bank beyond. He’d been trying to ignore the anger churning in his belly all afternoon, but he couldn’t push Clear Sky and Star Flower from his thoughts.
He swallowed back a growl as Thorn nudged past him.
“Sorry.” The gray she-cat dipped her head. “I’m heading for the prey pile, but the camp’s a bit crowded.”
Thunder snorted. “Is it worth the effort?” He glanced at the meager pile of fresh-kill. Three mice and a squirrel weren’t going to feed so many mouths. It was mouse-brained of Clear Sky to keep every cat in camp when there was a whole forest full of prey.
Thorn picked her way past Pink Eyes and Quick Water, who were lounging beside the holly bush. She nodded politely to Milkweed, who sheltered beneath the yew, coughing from time to time. Cloud Spots crouched beside the sickly queen, chewing leaves into a pulp, while Thistle and Clover scrambled through the branches above them.
Lightning Tail was sharing tongues with Acorn Fur while Birch and Alder badgered them with questions about life on the moor.
“Did you really hunt in rabbit tunnels?” Alder’s eyes were wide.
Lightning Tail shrugged. “I preferred hunting above ground.”
Acorn Fur shivered. “Not me. I liked the shelter of the tunnels—there’s no wind to ruffle your fur.”
“But how could you see what you were doing?” Birch asked.
“With our whiskers, ears, and noses, of course,” Acorn Fur told him.
“I never got a chance to hunt in the tunnels.” Sparrow Fur sprawled sleepily at the edge of the clearing while Owl Eyes paced around her. “I was too young.”
“Now we never have a chance to hunt anywhere!” Owl Eyes flashed a look at Clear Sky. He was clearly still angry that he had spent the day in camp.
Blossom wove past him. “I’m sure Clear Sky will let you hunt tomorrow.”
“Yeah, right.” Owl Eyes didn’t look convinced.
Thunder felt a flash of satisfaction. Clear Sky’s dumb hunting rules were ruffling fur among his campmates. They weren’t even effective. He glanced at the prey pile again. Nettle and Leaf were lying like guards beside the pitiful collection of fresh-kill, eyeing their campmates warily.
Clear Sky called from the bank. “Thunder! Are both hunting patrols back?”
“Can’t you tell?” Thunder snapped. The camp was overflowing with cats!
Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
Lightning Tail flashed Thunder a warning gaze.
It’s not the time to confront him about Star Flower, Thunder thought, puffing out his chest and heading for his father. Leaping up the muddy bank, he landed beside Clear Sky and gave a curt meow. “It’s not working.”
“What’s not working?” Clear Sky tipped his head.
“Sending out two hunting patrols each morning and then wasting the rest of the day with everyone cooped up in camp.” Thunder felt righteous anger rising in his chest. “It’s mouse-brained.”
The fur bristled on Clear Sky’s shoulders.
“Look at that prey pile.” Thunder nodded toward it. “Most cats will go hungry tonight.”
Clear Sky padded away from the edge of the bank, moving closer to the bracken. “Keep your voice down,” he cautioned. “We’ve already discussed hunting. You know why I have to organize it so carefully.”
“Because you don’t trust us.” Thunder followed his father out of hearing of their campmates. “But that doesn’t explain why you only send out two patrols a day. I could be hunting right now. If you’re scared that I’ll eat half my catch, send Leaf and Nettle with me to keep watch.” He snorted. “It would give them something to do. And what about Owl Eyes? He’s been desperate to go hunting all day, but instead he’s had to stay here, and tonight he’ll sleep with an empty belly. I bet he’s starting to wish he’d joined Tall Shadow’s group—they probably hunt from dawn to dusk.” He stared straight into Clear Sky’s piercing blue eyes, hoping he’d touched a nerve. How could his father be so dumb? Dumb about hunting, and even dumber about Star Flower!
What a rabbit-brain!
Clear Sky returned his gaze steadily. “Do you want to hunt the forest dry in the first moon of leaf-bare?”
“No!” Thunder hissed. “But if you send out smaller groups and send them out regularly, we could hunt the whole territory. If we take a little from everywhere, we’d have more to eat. No cat would be stuck in camp, and the prey would last through to newleaf.”
“I see you’ve thought about this.” Clear Sky’s ears twitched irritably. “Maybe you should be leader.” There was sarcasm in his mew.
Thunder scowled at him. “On the moor, Tall Shadow and Gray Wing treated me like one of the leaders.”
“This isn’t the moor,” Clear Sky snapped. “We do things differently in the forest. This group has one leader, and that’s me. On the moor, no cat knew who was in charge. Every time there was a problem, you had to gossip like a bunch of starlings before you actually did anything about it. Here, my cats trust me to make the decisions. I don’t need your advice.”
Rage bubbled up from Thunder’s belly. “You need some cat’s advice!”
Clear Sky eyed him, suddenly cautious. “Are you really this angry about hunting patrols?”
“I saw you!” Thunder blurted. “You didn’t go on patrol—you went to meet Star Flower.”
Clear Sky’s hackles lifted. “I ordered you to stay in camp.”
“I’m not as easy to boss around as Owl Eyes.” Thunder held his gaze. “What were you doing with her?”
“It’s none of your business.” Clear Sky bristled.
“You know she can’t be trusted,” Thunder warned. “She might make promises, but they’re all lies. She only cares about herself.” He leaned closer. “You trusted her father, and look where that got you.”
Clear Sky flinched as though Thunder had clawed his muzzle.
Thunder backed away. Had he gone too far? “I’m only warning you because I fell for her lies once before,” he meowed quickly. “I don’t want to see her betray you the way she betrayed me. I’m thinking of us all. Trusting Star Flower will not end well.”
Clear Sky’s gaze suddenly softened. “I know she hurt you, Thunder.”
Hope flashed in Thunder’s chest as he saw sympathy in his father’s eyes. “Does that mean you’ll stop seeing her?”
Clear Sky looked past Thunder toward the clearing. “Take Owl Eyes and go hunting.”
“Will you stop seeing her?” Thunder pressed.
“I’ll think about what you’ve said.” Clear Sky avoided his gaze. “Go hunting. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Frustrated, Thunder leaped into the clearing and crossed the camp toward Owl Eyes.
“Thunder.” A throaty mew caught his ear.
He turned to see Star Flower ducking into camp. He halted as she padded toward him and narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?”
Her golden pelt glowed in the afternoon light. “I smelled your scent by the flat rocks this morning.”
“So?”
Her green eyes narrowed. “What were you doing there?”
“Why do you care?” Bitterness stung Thunder’s throat.
“Have you been following me?”
“I was following Clear Sky,” Thunder growled. “I was worried about him being out in the woods alone.”
Star Flower gave an amused purr. “I think Clear Sky is old enough to take care of himself, don’t you? Besides, he wasn’t alone. He had me.”
Rage surged beneath Thunder’s pelt. “Stay away from my father,” he hissed.
Star Flower blinked. “Why? We get along so well and—” She paused, her gaze suddenly softening. “Oh, Thunder. I’m so sorry.”
Thunder shifted his paws, his pelt burning. He looked away. “What for?”
“I didn’t know you still had feelings for me,” she gushed. “I thought you stopped caring for me when you found out who my father was.”
Thunder stiffened, surprised to find hope pricking in his chest. Was that regret in her mew? Did she still care about him?
“We were never meant to be together, Thunder.” Star Flower shook her head sadly.
The ground seemed to move beneath his paws.
“I thought you understood that,” she went on. “You and I are so different. Clear Sky and I have much more in common. I understand him. I know why he’s so tough and ambitious. And I don’t judge him for it—I admire him.”
Thunder curled his lip. “You just like him because you think he’s like your father,” he hissed. “Well, he’s not. He’s far better than that fox-heart. You’re pathetic, always looking for some cat to make you feel good about yourself. When are you going to learn to stand on your own four paws?” Tail lashing, he called to Owl Eyes. “Come on. Clear Sky wants us to go hunting.”
Leaf looked up sharply. “Can I come?”
“Why not?” Thunder marched toward the entrance. He could take any cat he liked—he didn’t need Clear Sky’s permission. And Leaf would be in a far better mood if he had a chance to flex his claws on prey instead of moss.
He ducked through the bramble wall, Leaf on his tail.
Owl Eyes burst out after them, his pelt pricking with excitement. “Where should we hunt?” He gazed around the woods happily. Clouds were bubbling overhead as the sun sank behind the trees.
“There’s a beech copse beyond the sycamore,” Leaf suggested. “The nuts will attract prey.”
Thunder nodded. “You lead.” He wasn’t going to be like Clear Sky and insist every cat follow in his paw steps.
Leaf bounded away and leaped the gully. Owl Eyes chased after him, tail high. Thunder broke into a run, relieved to feel his paws pounding the forest floor. The anger that had been pulsing beneath his fur melted as he raced after his campmates. Leaf charged up the slope and hared past the sycamore. Owl Eyes, smaller and lighter, moved fast through the forest. He zigzagged easily between the undergrowth, veering around a bramble and ducking beneath a jutting branch. Thunder kept a tail-length behind, wincing as a thorn snagged his thick pelt and leaping over the branch instead of ducking under. He could feel power surging into his paws as they thrummed over the earth. Wind streamed
through his whiskers. Ahead, the beech copse showed among the other trees. Dark orange leaves clung to their branches, making the forest here glow like Star Flower’s pelt.
Thunder pushed the thought away, skidding to a halt where Leaf and Owl Eyes had stopped beside a swath of bracken. Leaf nodded toward the forest ahead. The ground was littered with beechnuts. Roots showed just above the soil, winding over one another to make a low forest of nooks and shadows. It was a perfect spot for prey.
Thunder nodded to Owl Eyes. “Go around to the far side of the copse,” he whispered. “If we flush out the prey, it’ll run toward you.”
Owl Eyes nodded and quietly picked his way around the trees.
Thunder dropped into a crouch and watched the tangle of beech roots.
Leaf squatted beside him, his mouth open as he tasted for scents. His muzzle twitched. “Thanks for letting me come,” he murmured. “I’m sick of waiting in camp for some other cat to bring me food.” He glanced sideways at Thunder. “How did you persuade Clear Sky to change his mind?”
“I just suggested it would be better to send out more patrols,” Thunder answered lightly.
“Of course it is!” Leaf snorted. “What’s the point of us all sitting around when the prey pile’s half-empty?” The gray-and-white tom shook his head. “Clear Sky’s gone soft since the battle.”
Thunder snapped his head around. Was Leaf being disloyal?
Leaf’s ear twitched uneasily. “I mean, he’s still Clear Sky,” he backtracked. “But all this talk of uniting and taking in sick, half-starved cats . . . It’s not how he used to be.” Leaf tucked his paws tighter under him.
Thunder shifted to rebalance himself. He could hear prey rustling the leaves between the beech roots. Owl Eyes’s pelt showed in the shadows beyond. “Clear Sky’s just doing what the spirit cats asked of him,” he whispered to Leaf. “They’re the ones who want us to unite.”
“Spirit cats don’t get hungry.” Leaf gazed ahead, his eyes flicking one way, then the other, as he scanned for prey. “Why don’t they look after the sick and the weak? Here in the real world, strength is the only thing that counts. What’s the point in hunting for cats who can’t hunt for themselves? They just sap the strength of the whole group.”