The entrance to Holly’s den rustled. Clear Sky saw a black she-cat pad out, blinking sleep from her eyes.
“What’s going on?” she yawned.
Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. Was Tall Shadow taking in rogues too? This one seemed scrawny. Scars marked her flanks.
“Fern, you’re awake.” Gray Wing padded toward the black she-cat. “How are you?”
Fern glanced anxiously around the clearing. “Where is everyone?”
“Holly’s kits are missing,” Gray Wing told her. “They’re looking for them.”
Fern’s eyes widened. “Dew Nose and Eagle Feather?”
“And Storm Pelt,” Tall Shadow added. “Jagged Peak and Holly are heading for the moor. I was about to check the Thunderpath.”
“Let me come,” Fern begged. “I know their scent better than any cat. I’ve been sleeping next to their nest all night.”
“Are you ready now?”
“Yes.” Fern raced for the camp entrance, kicking up snow. Tall Shadow bounded after her.
Clear Sky met Gray Wing’s anxious gaze. “We’ll find them,” he promised.
Gray Wing glanced up at the canopy. Blue sky showed beyond. “Once the sun sets, the forest will freeze.”
“They’ll be back in their nests by then.” Worry jabbed beneath Clear Sky’s pelt. I hope I’m right. There was so much territory to search. But surely the kits couldn’t have gone far? “I’d better go.” He padded toward the entrance and nosed his way out of camp.
The forest floor was white. Snow piled at the roots of the tall pines. Clear Sky tasted the air. He could smell Tall Shadow’s scent leading toward the Thunderpath. Jagged Peak’s and Holly’s were already stale, but he could see the churned snow where they’d headed for the moor. He made his way away from their tracks, breaking fresh snow as he trekked deeper into the pine forest.
Scanning the ground, he narrowed his eyes. Small tracks broke the whiteness between the trees ahead. Had the kits passed this way? He broke into a run, reaching the trail in a moment. His heart sank as he breathed in the scent of a squirrel. He could see its tiny paw prints at the foot of a pine, and the clumps of snow it had dislodged as it scooted up the trunk.
He moved on, keeping his nose low. Perhaps the kits’ paw steps were too light to break the surface. The cold air had crusted the snow. They could have traveled over it, leaving no mark so long as they kept moving and the warmth of their paws didn’t have time to melt the snow.
His own paws already ached from the cold. His heart quickened with fear. A small kit with nothing but fluff to keep out the chill would surely freeze fast in this weather.
“Dew Nose!” His call echoed between the trees. “Eagle Feather! Storm Pelt!”
The only answer was from a crow, which cawed as though amused by his fear. Its wings beat above his head, and he glanced up instinctively as it fluttered among the branches of a pine.
A small squeak sounded above him.
Clear Sky frowned, puzzled for a moment. It sounded like a kit, but why would it be all the way up in the tree?
Another mew rang from the pine branches.
He craned his neck. Could the kits have climbed to safety?
“It’s coming closer!” Dew Nose’s mew rang clear through the cold air.
Clear Sky froze as he glimpsed her splotchy brown pelt. The kits were clinging to a branch high above his head. Storm Pelt and Eagle Feather cowered behind her. On the branch above them, black feathers glinted in a shaft of sunshine.
The crow! Clear Sky’s chest tightened. It was bigger than the kits. With a shudder he remembered watching crows on the Thunderpath, picking at fresh-kill on the stone, their long talons pinning the prey to the ground as they tore strips of flesh away with their strong, sharp beaks.
“Dew Nose! I’m coming!” Fear scorching beneath his pelt, Clear Sky circled the tree. His neck ached from looking up. The crow hopped down a branch and began to sidle toward the kits.
Eagle Feather let out a squeal of terror, shuffling backward.
“Stay away from us!” Dew Nose lifted a paw and lashed out with a hiss.
Storm Pelt cowered behind her, his belly pressed hard against the bark.
The crow only had to knock one of the kits from the branch to turn it into fresh-kill.
Clear Sky reached up and sank his claws into the pine trunk, relieved as he felt the softness of the wood. Hooking his hind claws in behind him, he pushed himself up. Groaning with the effort, he began to haul himself higher. His muscles burned. He paused to catch his breath. The lowest branch was still far above. His legs trembled, and heat washed beneath his pelt. Closing his eyes, he pushed himself higher. The bark scraped his cheek. Don’t let me fall!
Suddenly, a rotten patch of bark crumbled beneath his forepaw. His claws lost their grip and he slipped. With a thump, his belly knocked against the trunk. Winded, he hung by three paws, fear spiraling in his mind. He pictured the earth far below and swung his free paw hard against the bark, sinking his claws in as deep as he could. Struggling to find his breath, he hauled himself up again, pushing with his hind paws and praying that no more bark would crumble.
Caw! Triumph sounded in the crow’s cry.
Clear Sky gritted his teeth and pushed on. Looking up, he saw a branch within reach. Growling with effort, he dug his hind claws in deep and lunged upward. He swung his forepaws toward the branch and grasped it. Pausing for breath, he hung between branch and trunk. Then, with a final grunt, he dragged himself up.
“Clear Sky?” Dew Nose’s frightened mew sounded overhead.
He looked up. The kits were only a few branches above him. But the crow was just a tail-length from them, its beady black eyes glinting with excitement.
The next branch was within reach. He reared and flung his paws around it and hauled himself up. It was easy to scrabble onto the branch beyond. Another leap took him to the kits’ branch. It trembled beneath his paws as he landed.
The crow snapped its head around, fear flashing in its gaze.
Clear Sky hissed. “Fly away unless you want to be my next meal.”
The crow glanced back at the kits. With an angry shout, it unfolded its wings and soared from the branch. Clear Sky watched it swoop away between the trunks, its dark feathers black against the white forest floor.
“Clear Sky!” Dew Nose’s mew was limp with relief. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.
Pity flooded beneath Clear Sky’s pelt. He thought for a heartbeat of the kits Star Flower was carrying. What if this had been them? He pushed the thought away. It was too much to bear. A fierce, protective fire surged through every muscle as he stared at the helpless kits. I’ve never felt like this before.
Guilt flooded him as he thought of Thunder. I should have cared about him like this.
“Clear Sky?” Storm Pelt stared over his sister’s shoulder. Eagle Feather clung to the bark behind her. They were close to the tip of the branch.
It was wide beneath Clear Sky’s paws, but it narrowed to hardly more than a twig by the time it reached the kits, who were clustered like fledglings. It would never take his weight. If he tried to move toward them, it might break and send them all crashing to the ground. “You must walk toward me,” he told them gently.
“My legs won’t move!” Dew Nose stared at him, her eyes desperate with terror. She clung, belly down, like a mouse.
“I’ll come first.” Storm Pelt straightened behind her.
“Don’t move!” Dew Nose shrieked. “You’ll knock me off!”
Clear Sky pushed back the fear pressing in his throat. “Just dig your claws in hard, Dew Nose. The bark is soft, and if you hold on hard enough, nothing can knock you off.”
She stared at him hopefully.
“Are you digging them in?” Clear Sky asked gently.
She nodded slowly.
“Good.” Clear Sky looked at Storm Pelt. “Can you climb over your sister without falling?”
“I think so.”
“That’s not good enough,” Clear Sky told him firmly. “You have to know you can do it.” If he could just get one kit to him, it might give the other two enough courage to follow.
Storm Pelt met his gaze steadily. “I know I can do it.”
“Good kit.” Clear Sky’s mouth dried as Storm Pelt began to clamber over his sister.
Dew Nose whined.
“Just hold on, Dew Nose,” Clear Sky soothed. “You’ll be fine.” He kept his gaze fixed on Storm Pelt, who was wobbling as he padded over his sister’s back. He paused on her shoulders, and Clear Sky’s heart seemed to burst in his chest. He forced his mew to be calm. “Just jump onto the branch when you’re ready.”
Storm Pelt jumped.
The breath caught in Clear Sky’s throat as Storm Pelt landed. The kit’s paws slithered for a moment on the bark; then he dug in his claws and steadied himself.
“Well done!” Relief washed Clear Sky. “Now just keep walking toward me.” Blood roared in his ears as Storm Pelt approached slowly. “The branch is wider here,” he encouraged.
Storm Pelt was less than a tail-length away. As he neared, Clear Sky leaned forward and grabbed the kit’s scruff. Curling his claws deep into the bark to steady himself, he swung the kit behind him and placed him gently in the crook where the branch met the trunk. “You’re safe there, as long as you don’t move.” Storm Pelt cowered in the shallow dip. Clear Sky turned back to Dew Nose, surprise pricking his paws as he saw Eagle Feather padding along the branch toward him. He waited until the kit was within reach, then leaned forward and, grasping his scruff, plopped him down beside his brother.
“Dew Nose.” He faced the she-kit, forcing his mew to be as gentle as he could. She was still clinging to the thin branch, her eyes wide with fear. “Did you see how easy it was for your brothers?”
She nodded slowly.
“You need to uncurl your claws just enough to stand up,” Clear Sky told her. “Then start walking toward me. You’ll be okay. Kit claws are really sharp—sharper than thorns, I promise you. They’ll dig into the bark and keep you safe. All you have to do is walk.”
Dew Nose stared at him for a moment, then slowly pushed herself to her paws.
“Well done!” Pride surged in Clear Sky’s chest. “Now walk.” Hope and relief welled in his belly as Dew Nose put one trembling paw in front of the other. Her gaze was fixed on him, her ears flat against her head. “You’re nearly there,” he told her. She was almost close enough to grab. “Just a few more steps and—”
As he spoke, her forepaw slipped off the branch. Her chin hit the bark as she fell.
Horror scorched through his fur. As fast as lightning, he lunged forward and grabbed her scruff between his teeth. The she-kit swung down, jerking him toward the ground.
“Dew Nose!” Eagle Feather squealed behind him.
Pelt on end, Clear Sky dug his claws deep into the bark. I’ve got her. Forcing himself to stay calm, he straightened slowly, ignoring her terrified wails as she struggled beneath his chin. Carefully, he found his balance and lifted her, swinging her toward her brothers. Weak with relief, he dropped her between them.
Storm Pelt pressed his nose into his sister’s pelt. “You’re safe,” he mewed.
Eagle Feather huddled against her. “How will we get down?”
Clear Sky looked at them, trying to steady his breath. “I can lower myself tail-first down the tree,” he told them, keeping his mew light. His claws pricked at the thought of the weight that would be swinging from them. “You just have to cling onto my back like squirrel kits.” He padded past them and straddled the trunk. “Climb on. There’s room for all of you. This is going to be the most exciting badger ride you’ve ever had!”
CHAPTER 21
“Clear Sky?” Quiet Rain murmured, her eyes closed.
Gray Wing leaned toward her and touched his nose to her cheek. “He’s out looking for the kits.”
Quiet Rain moved her head, groaning softly.
Gray Wing could see the black wound at the top of her hind leg. The flesh around it was swollen, fiery where it showed through her thin fur.
“Rest,” he murmured.
But Quiet Rain was blinking open her eyes. “He’s looking for kits?” she rasped.
“Jagged Peak’s kits have disappeared,” Gray Wing told her softly.
“He’s too soft on them,” she grunted. “No kit of mine would have strayed from the cave.”
Gray Wing met her gaze softly. “We knew what dangers lay outside. The forest here is safer.” Was he telling the truth? Slash was bound to return sometime. The lure of false prey would not keep him away forever.
“No place is safe for foolish kits.” Quiet Rain lifted her head, her eyes dull with pain.
“We have three patrols looking for them,” Gray Wing told her. “They will be found before they come to any harm.”
Quiet Rain looked at him, kindness warming her blue gaze. “You were always the gentlest of my kits. I worried sometimes that you lacked Clear Sky’s spirit and Jagged Peak’s stubbornness. But you have the kindest heart. You always hope for the best.” She shifted stiffly in her nest, wincing with pain, before she went on. “I knew you’d find Jagged Peak when I sent you after him.”
“I only wish I could have returned to the mountains.” Gray Wing remembered his frustration after he’d realized there would be no way back, that he would have to go on with Clear Sky to find their new home.
And we’ve never been able to agree on where that home even is!
“I knew Jagged Peak would insist on following Clear Sky—and that you wouldn’t leave him until you knew he was safe.” A broken purr sounded in Quiet Rain’s throat.
“But I didn’t keep him safe, did I?” Gray Wing murmured. “He’s lame now.”
“Was it your fault he fell from a tree?” Quiet Rain asked.
Gray Wing dropped his gaze. “No.” It had been Clear Sky who’d pushed the young tom into climbing so high.
“Don’t pity him,” Quiet Rain rasped. “He has a mate and kits. He has prey to feed them and a good, strong den for them to shelter in.”
Gray Wing felt his heart lift. Was Quiet Rain finally accepting that their new life was not as bad as she’d first feared? His heart twisted in his chest. She must live until newleaf. When she saw the green lushness and smelled the prey beneath every bush, she’d know they had done the right thing in coming here.
He realized that Quiet Rain was still gazing at him, a question in her eyes.
“What?” He blinked at her, puzzled.
“Why don’t you have a mate?”
Heat flushed beneath his fur. “I had a mate,” he murmured. The ache in his heart was still sharp when he thought of the loss that he had suffered. “Turtle Tail.”
Quiet Rain’s eyes brightened a little. “You noticed her at last.”
“Yes.” The ache tightened in his chest. “We were happy together, though I wish we’d had longer before she died.”
“Did you have kits?”
“She was carrying someone else’s kits when we became mates.”
Quiet Rain blinked. “Whose?”
“A kittypet.” Gray Wing dropped his gaze, trying to hide his bitterness at the memory of the arrogant, selfish tom. “Turtle Tail and I raised them together.”
“Where are they now?”
“Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes live in the oak forest. Pebble Heart has been caring for you.”
“Pebble Heart is Turtle Tail’s kit?” Quiet Rain’s tail twitched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think to.” So much else had been going on.
“Now I know why he looks to you whenever you speak, and with such fondness,” Quiet Rain commented. “Does he know you’re not his real father?”
“Of course.”
“You must have raised him well to have inspired such affection.”
Gray Wing dipped his head. “I hope so.”
“You shouldn’t spend the rest of your life mourning.?
??
Gray Wing jerked up his head. “Who said I was going to?”
Quiet Rain looked at him fondly. “You should have a mate and kits of your own.”
Paw steps sounded in the clearing. A young mew rang around the camp. “Holly! Jagged Peak? We’re home!”
“The kits!” Gray Wing darted from the den.
Clear Sky was following Eagle Feather, Dew Nose, and Storm Pelt as they bobbed across the snowy clearing.
“Are they hurt?” Gray Wing asked.
“They’re fine,” Clear Sky told him.
“We climbed a tree!” Eagle Feather boasted.
Gray Wing noticed the lumps of fur sticking out from Clear Sky’s pelt. “Have you been in a fight?”
Clear Sky glanced along his ruffled spine. A purr rumbled in his throat. “I had to climb down from a tree with three kits hanging off me.” He winced, as though the memory stung.
“We were nearly eaten by a crow.” Dew Nose stopped at Gray Wing’s paws and stared at him proudly. “But it didn’t get us!”
He frowned at her. “You shouldn’t have wandered off. Holly and Jagged Peak are crazy with worry!”
“Where are they?” Storm Pelt looked around the clearing.
“I smelled their scent outside camp,” Eagle Feather commented.
The pine nest rustled at the edge of the clearing. Pebble Heart was sitting up, blinking away sleep. “What’s happened?”
Dew Nose bounded toward the young tom. “We’ve been climbing trees!”
Clear Sky snorted. “They were almost a meal for a crow.”
“But you saved us!” Eagle Feather stared happily at Clear Sky.
Pebble Heart hopped from his nest and sniffed Dew Nose. “You’re frozen.”
Gray Wing suddenly realized that the kits were shivering. “We need to warm them up.”
Pebble Heart nodded toward Quiet Rain’s den. “Quiet Rain’s fever will warm them, and they’ll help cool her fever.”
Dew Nose stared at Pebble Heart, round-eyed. “We can’t go in there! She’ll eat us up!”
Gray Wing’s whiskers twitched with amusement. Quiet Rain had been bad-tempered since she arrived. But she seemed mellower now. And Jagged Peak’s kits might boost her spirits. “She’ll be pleased to see you,” he promised. “But she’s in pain, so you shouldn’t climb over her or fidget.”