The Blazing Star

  Gray Wing saw River Ripple turning away and heading back the way he came with a nod of farewell.

  “You’re leaving already?” he asked, shocked.

  “I can see which way this is going,” River Ripple confirmed with a wry twist of his mouth. “I’m not sticking around for another night of bickering. If I happen to figure anything out, I’ll come and find you.”

  Gray Wing watched as the silver-gray tom disappeared into the darkness. Thorn, Dew, and Nettle from Clear Sky’s group were watching him too, and—to Gray Wing’s surprise—so was Dappled Pelt, with something in her gaze that he couldn’t quite account for.

  Dragging his attention back to the debate over the spirit-cats’ message, Gray Wing noticed that Thunder wasn’t making any contribution. He was too busy looking at the strange she-cat who had just spoken, his whiskers twitching bashfully.

  The she-cat padded over to him—her gaze fixed as if she saw no other cat—and stood in front of him, her tail flicking slowly to and fro.

  “I’ve been dying to meet you,” she purred. “I’ve heard so much about you on the moor: what a great leader and fighter you are.”

  As he listened, Thunder’s chest puffed up with pride. He opened his jaws to speak, but nothing came out. It was as if he had no idea what to say.

  The she-cat waited for a moment, then turned and padded away, glancing back to shoot a final glance at Thunder from luminous green eyes before she vanished into the undergrowth. Thunder couldn’t tear his gaze away.

  Gray Wing felt a rumble of laughter rising in his throat. Thunder might be a big, strong leader of cats, he thought, but in other ways he’s still very young.

  CHAPTER 5

  Clear Sky paused beneath an arching clump of ferns, and took in a long breath of the cool morning air. Since the first visit from the spirit-cats, there was no need to patrol his boundaries anymore, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest in the dim light of dawn. And since the second visit from the spirit-cats the night before, he wanted time to ponder their message.

  The Blazing Star. Could it be the sun? Clear Sky wondered, padding onward through the undergrowth, the dew-laden grasses brushing his pelt. But no—how could any cat use the sun as a weapon?

  Deep in thought, he didn’t realize at first how far his paws were taking him, until he caught a familiar acrid tang at the back of his throat, and heard a distant rumble.

  The Thunderpath!

  Clear Sky halted, then turned back toward his own camp, his fur bristling. I certainly don’t want to go there!

  The harsh reek of monsters faded, but Clear Sky’s nose twitched as he picked up another scent. There was a cat in the forest—one he didn’t recognize—and as the scent gradually strengthened he realized it was drawing closer to him.

  Every hair on Clear Sky’s pelt prickled with suspicion. Is this a sneak attack? But the strange cat was moving too clumsily for that; Clear Sky could see the tops of the ferns waving as the cat blundered forward, making no attempt at quiet.

  Clear Sky hesitated a heartbeat longer, then leaped up into the nearest tree and crouched on a low branch, half-hidden by a clump of leaves.

  A moment later a ginger tom emerged from the undergrowth and started sniffing around the roots of the tree. Now that he was so close, Clear Sky’s belly turned over at the stench that was rising from him.

  A kittypet—and one he had seen before, slinking through the forest with some kits.

  Clear Sky waited until the tom turned to pad away, then rose to his paws and took a pace farther along the branch, into the open. “You again! What do you want here?” he demanded.

  The kittypet reared back in alarm, then crouched to the ground, laying his ears back. “My name is Tom. I—I don’t mean any harm,” he stammered. “I’ve been wandering around in the forest for a while, and I noticed the cats are forming into . . . groups.”

  Clear Sky twitched his ears. “And?”

  “I like the sound of that,” Tom went on. “Cats working together, helping each other to find shelter and prey. It’s got to be much better than working alone, scrounging for scraps while hoping it doesn’t rain too hard. I was wondering if . . . well, if your group might have room for one more?”

  Clear Sky studied the ginger tom closely. He wasn’t entirely convinced by the kittypet’s speech or his cringing manner. “I can see the marks on your neck where you wore your Twoleg collar,” he meowed. “And your round belly. You must have had a few easy meals lately.”

  Tom gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “I once lived with Twolegs,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I’ve since returned to the wild.”

  “Returned?” Clear Sky challenged him.

  Tom rolled his eyes. “All right, not ‘returned’ exactly. This is my first time living in the wild. But it feels like I’m returning . . . to my real home.”

  Clear Sky let out a snort of laughter. “Oh, I feel so sorry for you! It must have been hard, living in the warm and dry of a Twoleg den when your spirit was craving the cold, wet, and hunger of the wild!”

  Studying Tom afresh, Clear Sky noticed that his pelt did look a bit ragged in places. Though he still had the stench of Twolegs on him, it was believable that he had been living like a real cat for a little while. But Clear Sky was still reluctant to take in a kittypet, especially when he remembered what had happened with Bumble.

  Leaping to the ground, Clear Sky kept a wary distance from Tom while padding around him to size him up.

  “So can I come and live with you?” Tom asked. “I’ve heard about your survival tactics, and I think I could work the same way.”

  Instantly suspicious, Clear Sky narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Tom. “What have you heard?” he demanded sharply.

  Tom hesitated, as if he sensed Clear Sky’s tension. “Well . . . that you make tough decisions when it’s necessary.”

  “Times have changed,” Clear Sky responded, wondering if Tom was referring to his behavior before the battle. “All the cats live peacefully now. Really, there’s no particular reason to join a group of cats. You should be able to survive pretty well on your own.”

  Tom twitched his ears. “True,” he mewed. “But I can also bring benefits to your group.”

  “What would those be, exactly?” Clear Sky asked, his interest piqued. What could a kittypet offer real cats?

  “I may not be as skilled at hunting as you,” the ginger tom replied. “But I can learn quickly. And I have my own ways of fighting.” He studied his paws, and Clear Sky couldn’t decide if he looked modest or guilty. “I know how to fight with cunning,” he added.

  “Do you mean fight dirty?” Clear Sky asked sharply.

  Tom didn’t reply. Instead he looked up at Clear Sky with wide, pleading eyes. “There is much that I can teach you, I promise. Won’t you take me in?” he begged.

  Guilt throbbed through Clear Sky. Facing the truth about himself, he knew that he had caused so much unhappiness in the past. Perhaps it’s time to make amends.

  “Okay,” he meowed. “You can come back to the camp with me, if you think you can prove yourself. But I’m warning you: We can’t support any cat who doesn’t contribute.”

  Tom puffed out his chest, his expression suddenly proud and happy. “You won’t regret this,” he promised. “We won’t let you down.”

  Clear Sky, who had turned away and taken a couple of paw steps back toward his camp, halted and turned back again. “‘We’?” I agreed to take in one cat, he thought, his pelt beginning to prickle with anger. Is this ginger flea-pelt trying to cheat me?

  Tom let out a pleased mrrow. “I have a friend with me.”

  As he spoke, there was a loud rattling of twigs and leaves from up above and another cat landed on the ground. Clear Sky fought the urge to leap away, his pelt crawling at the thought that the newcomer had been lurking in the very tree where he had hidden to keep an eye on Tom—and he’d had no idea the cat was there.

  They must have been following me. They arrang
ed this meeting!

  Sizing up the new arrival, Clear Sky realized that he had never seen a rogue like this before. The fur that covered his scrawny body was knotted and his claws were broken. One eye was missing, and in the one that remained was a look that was pure wild. He paid no attention to Clear Sky, but circled on the spot, hissing and spitting as if he was facing a whole group of enemy cats.

  “This is One Eye,” Tom announced proudly. “He’s the bravest rogue cat in the whole forest.” When Clear Sky didn’t respond, Tom added, “He may look like a sick, skinny old thing on his last legs, but he’s the perfect addition to your group. You won’t have to worry about being attacked with him around. I invited him here today—”

  Tom broke off with a screech of pain as One Eye pounced onto his back, digging his jagged claws in. Jerking away, he turned a shocked stare on One Eye as the rogue jumped down again. “What was that for?” he asked.

  “I can speak for myself!” One Eye hissed.

  Clear Sky thought that Tom was right to look shocked. What is he thinking, hanging around like this?

  Tom sat down and started to groom his pelt, his pride clearly ruffled. Meanwhile, Clear Sky watched One Eye as he circled languidly, his tail high in the air. He was becoming more and more intrigued to hear what the rogue had to say for himself.

  “I remember this forest when all the trees were saplings,” One Eye began. “I lived here before any of your group were even born.”

  So how old is he? Clear Sky asked himself. If he’s as old as these trees, he should hardly be able to walk!

  While Clear Sky was trying to decide how to respond, One Eye whipped around and confronted him. “Are you the leader, then?” he asked.

  Surprised by the direct question, Clear Sky raked the ground with his forepaws. “Well . . . of this part of the forest, yes.”

  “Then you’re the cat I want to speak to,” One Eye continued. “Tom’s told me all about you. I’m here to offer my services to your group of cats, and trust me, this is not an offer that you want to turn down.”

  Momentarily stunned, Clear Sky was acutely aware that he had to take control of this situation. “What do you think you can bring to my group?” he asked.

  One Eye looked thoughtful for a moment. Before he could reply, the sound of fluttering wings in the tree above distracted all three cats. A plump pigeon had alighted on the lowest branch.

  “Excuse me,” the mangy rogue drawled.

  With a massive leap he hurled himself into the tree, his claws sinking into the body of the pigeon. It struggled wildly, its feathers falling like snow, then went limp. One Eye thumped back to the ground and dropped the prey at Clear Sky’s paws as if shaking dirt from his fur.

  “Will that do?” he asked.

  Clear Sky gazed down at the dead bird, impressed in spite of himself.

  “I’ll show you my hunting and fighting techniques anytime you like,” One Eye offered.

  “We don’t need to learn any fighting techniques,” Clear Sky retorted sharply. “Just the hunting skills will do.” For a few heartbeats he hesitated, then added, “Have either of you ever heard of the Blazing Star?”

  One Eye and Tom glanced at each other. Tom shook his head, but after a moment One Eye muttered, “It could be a plant.”

  It could be anything, Clear Sky thought, disappointed not to have discovered any useful information. I guess it was a bit of a long shot.

  “Okay. You can follow me back to camp,” he meowed to One Eye and Tom, some instinct telling him it was better to have these cats as friends rather than enemies.

  But as Clear Sky turned to head toward home, One Eye padded ahead of him, leading the way as if he already knew where the camp was. The pigeon dangling from his jaws, Tom brought up the rear.

  Why do I feel as though they always knew they’d be coming back with me? Clear Sky thought. There was more to these cats than they were letting on.

  CHAPTER 6

  A stiff breeze was blowing, whipping dead leaves from the trees. Leaf-fall is nearly on us, Clear Sky thought as he headed along his border with Tom and One Eye by his side. Acorn Fur padded in their paw steps a couple of tail-lengths behind.

  Privately Clear Sky held on to his reservations about admitting the mangy rogue and smelly kittypet to his group. But he had to admit that, so far, they were contributing. One Eye was a ruthless hunter, and was helping to keep the cats well fed—even if most of them were still a little wary of him.

  They’ll probably get used to him in time, Clear Sky told himself. And isn’t it better to have a cat like One Eye by my side rather than wandering free?

  The sound of crackling behind him made Clear Sky halt and turn, his shoulder fur beginning to bristle at possible danger. The sound reminded him too clearly of the flames that had devoured the forest. I don’t want to go through anything like that again.

  Then he spotted Acorn Fur rolling around in a hollow of dead leaves, batting at them with all four paws. He rolled his eyes. Well, she’s hardly more than a kit. . . .

  “Acorn Fur—” he began.

  “Stop messing about,” Tom interrupted with a snarl. “I’m starving, and I haven’t eaten since morning.”

  Acorn Fur clambered out of the hollow, a hurt look in her eyes as she shook scraps of leaf off her fur. “Sorry,” she muttered.

  Clear Sky glanced across at Tom, seeing that his belly had shrunk in the few days since he joined the group. And a good thing too!

  “In the forest we only eat when there’s food available,” he meowed gently. “It’s something we must all get used to. I remember when—”

  “Don’t tell me again about how you were all starving in the mountains,” Tom interrupted again. “I’ve heard that story too many times!”

  “I never asked you to join the group,” Clear Sky retorted, his voice rough with the beginnings of a snarl. “You can leave anytime you like.”

  Tom looked like he was about to start arguing, but clearly had the sense to keep his jaws shut. Clear Sky relaxed, glad that the confrontation was over.

  Her paws pattering on the dead leaves, Acorn Fur bounded up and brushed her pelt against his. She seemed ready to do the same to Tom, then halted, her nose wrinkling slightly.

  “I’m sorry if I messed up,” she mewed. “I don’t want to start a fight. The last moon has been so great.”

  “True,” Clear Sky murmured. Now that normal life had replaced the constant skirmishing, it had been a relief to sleep through the night and wake up refreshed. He suppressed a shiver at the thought of the nightmares that had plagued his rest for so long. He’d been so worried about protecting his cats and their territory, ensuring that every cat had enough to eat. It hadn’t been easy. It would be good now to share prey and territories, to pull together.

  As the patrol set out again, a rustling sounded from the edge of the forest. Instantly One Eye whirled in the direction of the noise. “Get off our territory!” he snarled. “Whoever you are.”

  “Hey, wait!” Clear Sky meowed. “We don’t have trespassers now!”

  But he was too late. While he was still speaking, Tom charged off toward the sound, his fur bristling up like a hedgehog’s spines. Clear Sky raced after him, with Acorn Fur dashing alongside, eager to help. One Eye trailed after them as if he had lost interest.

  “Stay out of the way!” Clear Sky ordered Acorn Fur as he threw himself in front of Tom.

  The kittypet was facing a dangerous-looking tabby tom, muscular, with small ears, like a mouse’s. Tom was snarling and flourishing his claws, but it was obvious to Clear Sky that he had no idea how to fight.

  “Back off, unless you want your ears shredded!” Clear Sky snapped at Tom, pushing him away.

  He was vaguely aware of other voices calling at a distance, and a few heartbeats later Gray Wing and Thunder emerged from the undergrowth, their eyes wide as they padded up to the group of cats.

  “Okay, Mouse Ear, keep calm,” Gray Wing meowed, brushing the tabby tom’s shoulder with
his tail. “It was all a misunderstanding. There’s no need to fight.”

  Meanwhile Thunder was gazing curiously at One Eye. “Who is this?” he asked.

  “A new friend,” Clear Sky replied, dipping his head to his son. “His name is One Eye. He joined my group a few sunrises ago. And this—” he began, stretching a paw out toward Tom.

  “You don’t need to tell us.” Clear Sky was startled to hear the growl in Gray Wing’s voice—his brother was usually the calmest of cats. “We know all about Tom.”

  “How?” Clear Sky asked, surprised.

  “Clear Sky, you’ve taken in the kittypet who stole Turtle Tail’s kits,” Gray Wing told him. “You do remember Turtle Tail, don’t you?”

  Guilt stabbed into Clear Sky. “Those were Turtle Tail’s kits? I didn’t know!” I should have tried to stop him from taking them, he thought.

  As quickly as it came, the guilt disappeared, replaced by fury. How dare Gray Wing humiliate me like this in front of Tom and One Eye! I’ve worked so hard to keep the new rules we agreed with the spirit-cats.

  “I thought all the old grudges had been put behind us after the battle,” he meowed stiffly. “Isn’t that what every cat agreed? Gray Wing, I would have thought that you of all cats would be fair and open-minded about these things. After all,” he continued, letting anger guide his words, “you’ve relied on Thunder to lead your group now that you’re no longer up to the task. Thunder would have been within his rights to drive you out and leave you to fend for yourself—a broken cat. You should count yourself lucky!”

  “That’s not how we do things!” Thunder protested.

  Gray Wing stayed silent. Clear Sky knew that he had touched a nerve, and he could see the hurt in his brother’s eyes. Instantly he regretted losing his temper. Pacing forward, he touched noses with his brother. “Not that it would ever come to that,” he purred. “I would always give you a home.”

  “Yes!” Acorn Fur gave an excited little bounce. “Come and live with us, Gray Wing!”