The cats prowled ahead more slowly. The moorland had given way to sandy soil and rocky outcrops with tussocks of wiry grass and bushes here and there. Gray Wing still couldn’t spot any prey until Turtle Tail halted and raised her tail.
“Under that bush,” she whispered.
Gray Wing peered hard and finally made out the pinkish breast of a pigeon that was pecking at something on the ground between two boulders close to the edge of the river.
“Your eyes are sharp,” he breathed. This is so great—hunting in a new place, and with Turtle Tail.
“Yes!” Gorse flashed past him, clearly unable to resist making the catch.
The pigeon took flight with sharp flicks of its wings, but Gorse hurled himself at it and gripped its tail with his claws. Two or three more birds broke out of the bushes as he sprang, and soared upward, well out of danger. Gorse’s pigeon struggled frantically; one of its wing tips caught Gorse in the face and he tumbled backward, losing his grip on its tail feathers.
Wind sighed. “I suppose I’d better finish the job.”
As she spoke she raced forward and made a ferocious leap as the pigeon took off. Sinking her claws into its breast, she wrestled it to the ground again and held it until it stopped struggling.
Turtle Tail’s eyes were glimmering with amusement. “Do you think we should show them how to catch birds?” she whispered to Gray Wing.
Gray Wing gave his head a tiny shake. “We might offend them.” But we made cleaner kills than that in the mountains.
Wind looked up from her prey with a feather stuck between her teeth. “Come and share,” she invited.
Gray Wing, Turtle Tail, and Rainswept Flower headed toward her, all three trying to hide amusement.
“I thought we were supposed to be showing Turtle Tail how to catch fat, lazy pigeons,” Rainswept Flower mewed innocently.
“Well, I’ve certainly learned something,” Turtle Tail responded.
When they were all crouched around the pigeon, taking bites of the warm flesh, she continued, “I’m glad I came back. Hunting has never looked like such fun!”
“Remember that there are tensions now,” Gray Wing warned her, swallowing a mouthful.
“What tensions?” a new voice chimed in.
Gray Wing stiffened. Looking around, he spotted a silver-furred cat sitting on a rock in the middle of the river. Water swirled a mouse-length beneath his paws and his elegantly curled tail.
“Who’s that?” Rainswept Flower exclaimed, shocked. “What cat likes sitting near water?”
The silver cat leaped neatly across a line of stones and climbed the bank until he stood beside them. He looked friendly and completely at ease. “Hi,” he meowed. “My name’s River Ripple.”
Wind and Gorse exchanged a glance; clearly the newcomer was a stranger to them, too.
“Are you a rogue?” Gray Wing asked.
River Ripple shrugged. “I don’t like giving myself labels. I live by the river”—he flicked his tail toward the opposite bank—“and that’s all any cat needs to know.”
“I’m Gray Wing, and this is Turtle Tail and Rainswept Flower,” Gray Wing began with a polite dip of his head. “And these two are Gorse and Wind.”
As he spoke, he noticed that River Ripple was only half listening; he was eyeing the remains of the pigeon. “That looks tasty,” he remarked, swiping his tongue around his whiskers.
Gray Wing snorted with amusement, and pushed the rest of the prey over to the silver tom. That was a pretty heavy hint!
“Thanks.” River Ripple bent his head and demolished the pigeon in a series of neat, rapid bites.
“I’ve never seen a cat eat so delicately,” Turtle Tail commented.
Neither have I, Gray Wing thought. So elegant, even when he’s hungry!
River Ripple met Turtle Tail’s gaze, then shrugged. “I’m a cat full of surprises,” he meowed. He dipped his head to the others, then, with a flash of his tail, raced back across the stones and plunged into the undergrowth on the opposite bank of the river.
Gray Wing and his friends looked at one another. “I think that was his way of saying good-bye,” Gray Wing meowed. I’ve never met such a strange cat!
“Weird . . . ,” Wind murmured.
Before any of the others could speak, a series of guttural, angry noises sounded above the rushing of the river. Gray Wing felt a prickle of uneasiness, and exchanged an alarmed glance with Turtle Tail. “What’s that?” he asked.
The noises came again, louder and closer this time.
“Dogs!” Wind exclaimed.
A rush of panic invaded Gray Wing, and he fought to stay calm. “We have to find shelter!” he exclaimed. Even as he spoke, he realized that he had no idea where to go. We don’t know this place!
Wind nodded. “You’re right. Come on, Gorse. Let’s go to our nest—quickly.” As she and the tabby tom slunk off down a gully, she glanced over her shoulder. “You’d better get back to the hollow as fast as you can,” she told the mountain cats. With a flourish of her tail, she added, “It’s that way.”
Gray Wing and the others had already risen to their paws. Leaving the last scraps of the pigeon, they raced across the moor. Gray Wing would have liked to move even faster, but he had to match his pace to Turtle Tail’s; with her extra weight, she was struggling to keep up. The barking continued behind them; Gray Wing couldn’t tell if they were outpacing the dogs.
“Are you okay?” he asked Turtle Tail. He could hear her panting.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Turtle Tail gasped. “Pull ahead if you need to.”
“Never!” Gray Wing retorted. “I’m not leaving you.”
Eventually the camp came into view. With Rainswept Flower in the lead they skidded down the slope.
“Dogs!” Gray Wing yowled.
More barking exploded into the air just behind them. How had the dogs been able to find their way here? Cold horror froze Gray Wing from ears to tail-tip. We’ve led the dogs straight to the camp. Our fresh scent has given us away!
Tall Shadow, who was sitting on the tall rock at the far end of the hollow, leaped to her paws. “Scatter!” she yowled. “Take cover!”
Hawk Swoop and Jackdaw’s Cry dived down the nearest tunnel, pushing Acorn Fur and Lightning Tail in front of them. Dappled Pelt and Cloud Spots raced up the opposite slope and vanished onto the moor. Rainswept Flower thrust herself into a gap between two boulders.
Gray Wing guided Turtle Tail toward his own sleeping tunnel and followed her inside, turning so that he could look out into the camp. Turtle Tail cowered beside him, their flanks pressed together.
The barking grew louder still. Gray Wing’s eyes stretched wide with fear and shock as two dogs shot over the lip of the hollow and down toward their friends. One of them was a rangy creature with a brindled pelt, the other was small and white. Their paws churned up moss as they bounded to and fro, sniffing at the mouths of the tunnels.
Tall Shadow still stood on top of her rock, her back arched and her fur fluffed out so that she looked twice her size. She was snarling and she had raised one paw, her claws out ready to strike if one of the dogs came within range. The small white dog pawed at the bottom of the rock for a few heartbeats, yipping in a frenzy, but he couldn’t reach the black she-cat.
Meanwhile the bigger dog had found some discarded rabbit bones and was chewing them up; Gray Wing winced as he heard the bones cracking. The dog spat them out a moment later and began sniffing at the tunnel where Jackdaw’s Cry and Hawk Swoop were trying to protect Lightning Tail and Acorn Fur.
“Oh, no!” Turtle Tail whispered. “Those poor kits!”
Gray Wing could hardly breathe with the tension, but he gathered himself to leap out and attack from behind if the dog looked likely to force his way in.
The dog had begun to scrape at the loose earth around the tunnel mouth when another sound rose above the dogs’ barking: the roar of a monster on the distant Thunderpath. The dogs paused, their heads on one side, listening. The
n they headed back up the slope, chasing each other as they retreated the way they had come. Their yelping died away, but it was still many heartbeats before Gray Wing dared to emerge, with Turtle Tail nervously following him.
Tall Shadow leaped down from her rock and Rainswept Flower emerged from between the stones where she had been hiding. Jackdaw’s Cry poked his head out of the tunnel. “Are they gone?” he asked.
It was Dappled Pelt who replied, reappearing at the top of the hollow with Cloud Spots. “Yes, they’re running toward the river,” she reported, padding down to join the others. “We’re safe now.”
Letting out a breath of relief, Gray Wing glanced around the camp. Then his muscles tensed again as he realized that one cat was missing. “Thunder!” he exclaimed. “Where’s Thunder?” He raised his voice to a yowl. “Thunder!”
His cry echoed around the camp, but no cat replied.
“Who saw him last?” Tall Shadow demanded.
“He was here earlier, when Turtle Tail arrived,” Rainswept Flower replied.
“Has anyone seen him since then?” Tall Shadow’s gaze swept around the cats, who were huddled together, scared and shaken. “No? Okay, let’s search the camp. Check all the tunnels.”
The cats scattered, vanishing into the dens and beneath the lowest boughs of the gorse bushes, only to return a few moments later. There was no sign of Thunder.
Dread enveloped Gray Wing like cold, clinging fog. “Thunder must have followed Shattered Ice when he went out to hunt,” he meowed, realizing that the two of them were on the moor, and vulnerable if the dogs spotted them.
Turtle Tail nudged him. “It’s worse than that,” she told him, her sharp eyes ranging across the hollow. “Jagged Peak has gone too.”
CHAPTER 4
Thunder took in a huge breath and let it out in a sigh of utter satisfaction. He couldn’t imagine anywhere he would rather be than here in the forest. He loved the sheltering branches of the trees overhead, the rustling of prey in the undergrowth, and the exciting scents coming at him from all directions. He couldn’t decide which of them he wanted to investigate first.
Bouncing gently on his paws, he exclaimed, “This is brilliant! So much better than trying to chase rabbits on the moor.”
Shattered Ice, standing a couple of tail-lengths farther into the forest, gave him a suspicious look from narrowed eyes. “You got permission to come with me?” he asked.
Thunder felt his mouth turn dry. “Oh, yes . . . yes, I did.”
Shattered Ice still looked suspicious; Thunder couldn’t tell whether he believed him. Please don’t send me back to camp.
The gray-and-white tom twitched his tail impatiently. “Okay then. Are you going to stand there all day?” he asked.
“No, I’m going to hunt!” Spotting a tiny movement in the shelter of a clump of ferns, Thunder crouched down. “Watch me!”
It felt so natural to be creeping forward like this, using the undergrowth for cover and making sure he didn’t put his paws on a dead leaf or a twig that might alert his prey. His body was relaxed and his limbs moved fluidly; it was as if he knew instinctively what he had to do. Gray Wing wouldn’t expect me to run here, he thought.
The grasses parted and a tiny dark-pelted creature scuttled out from under the ferns. Pushing off with powerful hind legs, Thunder pounced. His paws slammed down on the soft body and he sank his claws into it.
“Got it!” he exclaimed. “I’ve caught a—what is it, Shattered Ice?”
His denmate came to sniff at the small body with the unusually long snout. “It’s a shrew,” he told Thunder, and added disparagingly, “A scrawny thing like that isn’t going to keep all of us fed. Come on, there’ll be bigger prey farther into the forest.”
Stung, Thunder considered carrying his prey back to the camp. But being in the forest was too exciting. He shoved the body of the shrew under the nearest bush, ready to collect when he came back, and pattered after Shattered Ice. I’ll show him! he thought. I’ll show all the cats. I can hunt and provide for us all.
He had never felt so free, able to follow his instincts without Gray Wing telling him he was doing it wrong. He would always be grateful to Gray Wing for saving his life. But now, he was ready to be his own cat.
Halting, he clawed at the ground in his frustration.
Shattered Ice stopped too, glancing over his shoulder. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked.
Thunder hesitated. I can’t tell him what I was thinking, he realized. I’d feel like a traitor. But Shattered Ice was still waiting for an answer.
Thunder glanced around, looking for a distraction. He remembered the stories he’d heard about Clear Sky’s cats guarding the forest and driving off any intruders. A shiver of apprehension prickled his pads. “We shouldn’t be here,” he mewed, suddenly wondering whether any of his father’s cats had spotted them. It was foolish of me to think we were alone here.
But Shattered Ice only let out a snort of amusement. “No, we shouldn’t,” he agreed. “Why do you think I came here in the first place? I won’t be told what to do—not by Tall Shadow and not by Clear Sky’s mange-ridden followers. I’ll only listen to cats I respect, and I go where I like.”
He looked disdainfully over his shoulder at Thunder, who was panting to keep up with Shattered Ice’s long strides. “Why don’t you go back to your kin, youngster? This place isn’t for kits. I should never have let you come.”
Thunder felt his neck fur bristling up. I’m not just a kit. And I’m not going back to my kin!
He stalked after Shattered Ice, ears pricked and jaws parted for the first sign of prey, so that he could prove himself. For a heartbeat his ears flicked toward the moor and he cast a swift glance to where he could still make out the rolling sweep of open country through the outlying trees. He could imagine what Gray Wing would have to say when he found out what he’d done.
Then he shrugged. I’m not going back! he resolved, determined to ignore his creeping sense of guilt. Wait till they see what I can do.
“I’ll show you how I can hunt,” he told Shattered Ice.
The trees were thinning out; there was a clearing just ahead, and in the middle of it was . . . a rabbit! The creature was nibbling on some grass, clearly oblivious to the presence of cats. Stupid puffball, Thunder thought. Now’s my chance! He took off toward it, but forgot all about his earlier caution, barreling through the undergrowth. Dry, crisp leaves on the forest floor crackled under his paws.
The rabbit sat up, startled, then raced for the edge of the clearing and vanished into a hole among the roots of an oak tree. Thunder halted, frustrated. Shame throbbed through his whole body as he heard a mrrow of laughter from Shattered Ice.
Shattered Ice padded over, looking down at him, the laughter gone from his expression. “All right, all right,” he sighed. “Don’t look so upset. It’s not the end of the world. I’ll help you learn, okay?”
Thunder brightened up immediately. “Sure!”
“Start by getting low and listening for little animals in the bushes,” Shattered Ice instructed him.
Obediently Thunder crouched. “Like this?”
Shattered Ice moved slowly around him, examining his position with a critical eye. “Not bad,” he commented. “Move your forepaws back a bit, and keep your tail out of the way.”
Thunder felt his denmate pushing his haunches down with one paw. The pose felt awkward for a moment, until he began to get used to it.
“That’s the right position,” Shattered Ice meowed. “Stay like that for a moment so you remember—”
“Teaching your friend how to steal prey?” asked a sudden voice.
Thunder whirled around. Two strange cats had appeared at the edge of the clearing: a black-and-white tom and a smaller yellow she-cat. Thunder realized they must have approached them from upwind while Shattered Ice was showing him how to crouch. They were staring at Thunder and Shattered Ice with hostile eyes. I was right, Thunder thought. We weren’t alone.
&n
bsp; Shattered Ice had whipped around too, and was returning the strange cats’ glares. “Leaf. Petal,” he mewed, moving protectively in front of Thunder. “How nice to see you.”
The newcomers padded forward and stalked around Thunder and Shattered Ice, their shoulder fur bristling and their tails lashing.
“You’re trespassing,” Petal snarled. “What should we do with them, Leaf?”
“Slash their noses to start with,” Leaf growled. “And then rip their pelts off.”
Shattered Ice slid his claws out defiantly. “I’d like to see you try!” Hissing, he added, “We’re not thieves or trespassers. We’re just cats like you, trying to survive.”
Petal’s eyes narrowed and she shoved her face up close to Shattered Ice. Thunder’s belly clenched and he winced as he wondered how his denmate would react.
To Thunder’s surprise, the gray-and-white tom didn’t attack, which made Thunder realize that this encounter was even more serious than he’d thought. Shattered Ice would never allow himself to be pushed around. Not unless he had no choice . . .
“You and your friend here can go back where you came from,” Petal hissed. “Pass on the message that you’re not welcome in the forest anymore. If you dare to hunt here, there will be consequences.”
The expression on Shattered Ice’s face hardened. “What sort of consequences, dungface?” he demanded.
There! Shattered Ice had finally reacted, throwing one of the worst insults Thunder knew.
Petal’s fur bristled and she drew back a paw to slash her claws across Shattered Ice’s muzzle.
“No!” Thunder yowled before he could stop himself.
But suddenly there was a movement at one side of the clearing. A clump of ferns parted and two other cats strode into the open.
Relief flooded through Thunder as he recognized them: Falling Feather and Moon Shadow. Both of them had made the journey from the mountains; Thunder had met them when they had come to visit the camp on the moor.
“Petal, what are you doing?” Falling Feather asked, bounding forward. “Shattered Ice saved my life!”