A Forest Divided

by Erin Hunter

  Thunder stared. Jagged Peak had changed. He’d become so certain of himself. Should I begrudge him that?

  A pelt brushed his flank as Clear Sky stopped beside him. “Five cats will have to be enough.” His gaze was fixed on the departing cats. “For now.”

  Thunder felt suddenly cold. There was icy determination in his father’s mew. Perhaps Clear Sky hadn’t grown weak after all. Had his anxious, pleading eyes just been a trick? “Do you still want them all?”

  “Not me.” Clear Sky’s blue gaze was calm. “Fluttering Bird.”

  Thunder shifted away. Perhaps it was best that the group was spreading itself across moor, river, and forest. No leader should command every cat. That was too much power to hold.

  Clear Sky lifted his tail. “You’d better get ready to leave.” Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes were already pacing near the entrance. Beside them, Lightning Tail gazed wistfully across the hollow.

  Gray Wing sat alone. The tom’s golden eyes were dark with grief.

  Thunder felt his throat tighten. “I have to say good-bye to Gray Wing,” he told Clear Sky. He crossed the grass and stopped in front of his old friend. “I’ll watch over them,” he promised, tipping his head toward Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes.

  “It’s like losing Turtle Tail all over again.” Gray Wing’s mew was thick. “I’m not ready to leave Tall Shadow, and Pebble Heart needs me. But how can I be separated from those kits?”

  Thunder hated how hard this seemed to be for Gray Wing. “They’re not kits anymore,” he said softly. But he knew that although Owl Eyes, Sparrow Fur, and Pebble Heart were nearly grown, Gray Wing would always love them as a father.

  “Anyway, you’ll know where they are,” Thunder soothed. “You’ll get to see them whenever you want.”

  “It won’t be the same.”

  Thunder’s heart twisted in his chest. No, it’ll never be the same again. Around him, cats padded restlessly, their ears pricked and tails twitching with excitement at establishing their new homes. I just hope we’re doing the right thing.

  CHAPTER 4

  As Thunder padded away, Gray Wing became slowly aware of the cold. The numbness that had gripped him since Sparrow Fur had dropped her stone in Clear Sky’s circle eased, and he shivered, lifting his gaze to the two young cats at the gorse entrance to the camp. Owl Eyes leaped up to catch a stray snowflake. His eyes shone with excitement.

  Gray Wing swallowed back grief.

  Soft fur brushed his flank. He turned his head.

  Pebble Heart was gazing at him with round amber eyes. “I’ve said good-bye to them. It’s your turn now.”

  Gray Wing’s paws felt like stone. How could he say good-bye? He’d never imagined they’d be separated like this. He glanced at the snow clouds glowering above the camp. Was Turtle Tail watching? Had she known this would happen when she’d urged them to spread and grow like the Blazing Star? Anger surged in his chest. “They’re all I have left of her,” he breathed.

  “You still have me.” Pebble Heart nudged him forward. “They won’t leave until you say good-bye.”

  Did I make the right choice? Gray Wing wondered if he should be traveling to the forest. But how could he call the forest home? The hollow felt like home; it was where he had made his nest with Turtle Tail. It felt strange to be leaving it behind, but that was exactly what he had chosen. No cat had voted to stay in the hollow. It will be empty now. The thought was like a cruel claw of regret in his belly fur, but he knew he had to shake it loose. He knew he needed to stay close to Pebble Heart. From the start, the young tom had been special. He was a gifted healer and had dreams that were often uncannily true. A deep sense of duty pulled Gray Wing toward him. He couldn’t ignore the feeling that the destiny of the cats was bound up with Pebble Heart’s fate. I must protect him.

  Gray Wing tried to take a deep breath to steady himself, but his chest was tight. Since he’d breathed the smoke from the forest fire, he often struggled for air. Now the chill of leaf-bare and the strain of leaving the hollow seemed to crush his chest like a stone. He closed his eyes for a moment, pulling in a shallow breath, then headed across the camp.

  “You look excited,” he meowed as he neared Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes. Too late, he realized he’d made it sound like an accusation. “I mean . . . you look happy. You must have made the right choice.”

  Sparrow Fur met his gaze anxiously. “We didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I’m not hurt,” Gray Wing lied.

  Owl Eyes blinked at him. “You’re wheezing.”

  “It’s just the cold.” Gray Wing lifted his chin. He looked from Sparrow Fur to Owl Eyes, suddenly surprised by how grown-up they looked. Their soft kitten fluff was gone. Their pelts were sleek. Delicate muscle showed beneath. Sparrow Fur had the same pretty markings as her mother’s tortoiseshell pelt, and Owl Eyes had his mother’s lean, lithe shape. “Will you remember Turtle Tail, even in your new home?”

  “Of course we will!” Sparrow Fur’s mew was sharp. “We’ll never forget her.”

  Owl Eyes’s tail trembled. “I can still remember her scent.”

  Will you remember it even in the musty dampness of the forest? Gray Wing swallowed back a sigh. “Your mother was a brave cat,” he meowed, “and kinder than any cat I’ve ever known. She’d be proud to see you face your future with such courage.”

  Owl Eyes tipped his head. “Will you be proud of us too?”

  Gray Wing leaned forward and touched his muzzle to Owl Eyes’s head. “I will always be proud of you.” He licked Sparrow Fur’s ears. “If you ever need me, come and find me.”

  He turned, struggling to breathe as sadness swamped him. Slowly, he walked away, feeling their gazes hot on his pelt.

  “Come on, you two!” Lightning Tail’s breezy mew rang out behind him. “Let’s go!”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for Clear Sky?” Sparrow Fur called back.

  Clear Sky padded from beside the rock. “I’ll catch up.” He stepped into Gray Wing’s path. “I’ll look after them,” he promised.

  Gray Wing narrowed his eyes. His brother had seemed so desperate when he’d begged the cats to join together. And the badger attack had clearly shaken him. But now his chest was puffed up as usual. And yet Gray Wing thought he saw a trace of fear darken the tom’s blue gaze. He suddenly realized that he’d never seen his brother look scared before. It unnerved him. What was he scared of? He tipped his head thoughtfully. “Are you okay, Clear Sky?”

  “Of course!” Clear Sky shook out his pelt.

  “Are you still worried about what Fluttering Bird said?” Gray Wing understood the power their dead sister’s words must have had on Clear Sky. He alone shared the guilt of her death. If only they’d hunted better or longer, she might not have died. But we were young, he reasoned. And yet—

  “I’m not worried,” Clear Sky insisted. “I just wish the other cats had listened to me.”

  Gray Wing didn’t argue. Clear Sky would never stop wanting to tell everyone what to do. He’d learned long ago that arguing with his brother was a waste of breath, and right now he had little breath to waste.

  “Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Clear Sky urged.

  Gray Wing shook his head. “I have been through so much with Tall Shadow; I can’t leave her now. And Pebble Heart needs me.”

  Clear Sky dipped his head. “Very well.” He headed toward the gorse entrance. It still shivered where Lightning Tail, Sparrow Fur, and Owl Eyes had charged through.

  Jagged Peak and Holly were herding their kits toward it. They stopped to let Clear Sky pass. Jagged Peak looked over his shoulder. “Come on, Gray Wing. It smells like more snow is on the way. The sooner we reach the pines, the better.”

  Tall Shadow padded forward and scooped up Dew Nose in her jaws.

  Dew Nose wriggled like a caught fish. “I want to walk!” she squeaked.

  “It’s a long way,” Holly told her. “And the snow outside camp is probably deep.”

  Eagle Feather stuck his nose in
the air. “No one’s carrying me!”

  “What about a badger ride?” Mouse Ear called.

  “All the way?” Eagle Feather glanced excitedly at the burly tom.

  “All the way,” Mouse Ear purred, crouching.

  Eagle Feather scrambled onto his broad shoulders.

  “Can I have a ride too?” Storm Pelt asked shyly.

  Mud Paws trotted toward him. “Climb up!” He nosed the kit up onto his back and waited while Storm Pelt straddled his shoulders, clinging on with his small paws and squishing low into his thick fur.

  Dew Nose squealed louder, churning her paws with annoyance. “I want a ride too!”

  “Okay.” Tall Shadow put her down and leaned low to let her scramble onto her back.

  Gray Wing longed to help, but he knew he needed to save his breath. Jagged Peak was right: there was a scent of fresh snow in the air. The chill of it pierced his chest.

  Dappled Pelt and Shattered Ice were talking in low voices beside the gorse wall of the camp.

  “What if River Ripple sends us away?” Dappled Pelt asked.

  “If he does, we can join another group.” Shattered Ice looked at Tall Shadow. “You’ll take us in, won’t you?”

  “Of course!” Tall Shadow purred. Dew Nose was fidgeting on her shoulders.

  “Come on.” Jagged Peak was the first through the entrance.

  A panicked look flashed in Pebble Heart’s eyes. “What about my herbs?” He glanced toward the jutting gorse. It trembled, shaking snow from its branches, and Cloud Spots slid out. He held a wad of leaves in his jaws.

  He crossed the snowy grass and dropped it at Pebble Heart’s paws. “Take these. They’ll keep you going for now. There are plenty of herbs left for you to get later.” Pebble Heart blinked at the black tom gratefully. “What about you?”

  “I’ll make myself a fresh bundle.” He began to turn back to his den, then paused. “There may even be better herbs in the forest.”

  Pebble Heart nodded, his eyes lighting up. “And the pines.”

  “I’ll come and tell you if I find anything new,” Cloud Spots promised.

  “Me too.”

  Gray Wing saw them exchange a look so warm, he felt a sudden flash of jealousy. Pebble Heart was clearly fond of the tom who had taught him so much.

  “Perhaps we should meet regularly to share what we’ve learned,” Cloud Spots suggested.

  Pebble Heart nodded eagerly. “Next new moon? At the four trees?”

  Cloud Spots swished his tail. “I’ll see you then.” He disappeared back into his den.

  “Come on, Pebble Heart,” Gray Wing called to the young tom. The others were already filing out of camp.

  Pebble Heart picked up the bundle of herbs in his jaws and hurried through the tunnel after Mouse Ear. On the tabby’s back, Eagle Feather squeaked as the branches scraped his spine, and he burrowed deeper into the tom’s fur.

  Gray Wing paused as he reached the entrance and looked back at the hollow. It was eerily quiet. Only the scuffing of Cloud Spots’s paws as he rummaged in his den broke the silence.

  Heart heavy, Gray Wing nosed his way through the gorse.

  Outside, snow had dusted the moor. The heather rocked as the wind swept across it. Dappled Pelt and Shattered Ice were already heading toward the river. They seemed small under the great, yellowing sky.

  Holly, Mouse Ear, Mud Paws, and Tall Shadow followed Jagged Peak over the grass. The tops of the pines showed in the distance, beyond the crest of the moor. Pebble Heart was running to catch up.

  “Hurry, Gray Wing!” Jagged Peak called from the head of the group.

  Gray Wing stopped, his nose twitching. An unfamiliar scent was tainting the snow. Rogues had passed this way, by the smell of it. And they’d lingered by the camp entrance. There was a dent in the snow where they’d sat. Why hadn’t they introduced themselves, as most rogues did, out of curiosity if not suspicion? Unease pricked at Gray Wing’s pelt. He thought he knew the scents of all the rogues who crossed the moor. But not these. What does it matter? They were leaving the hollow. Gray Wing scanned the moor. Wind Runner’s camp was nearby. Memories of One Eye flashed in his mind. If strange rogues were hanging around, her kits might be vulnerable. He decided to investigate. “I’ll follow your paw prints!” he called to Jagged Peak. “I’m going to scout for prey.” There was no need to alarm the kits.

  “Don’t be long!” As Jagged Peak answered, Gray Wing sniffed the snow. Tracks led toward the river: Dappled Pelt’s and Shattered Ice’s. Another set led toward the forest: Clear Sky’s cats. A third set carried the smell of the strangers. Gray Wing followed them downhill into the wide swath of heather. As the branches closed over his head, their scent grew stronger.

  Two cats.

  He slowed his pace. He was still struggling to breathe deeply. He didn’t want to meet these strangers face-to-face when he felt so weak. But curiosity, and worry for Wind Runner’s kits, drew him on. He pricked his ears as a growl echoed ahead.

  “I don’t have time.” There was a snarl in the tom’s voice.

  An anxious mew answered it. “But I don’t want to go by myself.”

  A shriek of pain sliced through the heather.

  Gray Wing froze.

  “You’re not a kit anymore!” the first voice snapped.

  Gray Wing crept forward until he saw daylight ahead. The heather tunnel opened into a clearing, and Gray Wing spotted the ringed tail-tip of a tabby flicking over the snow.

  Quickly he turned off the trail and pushed his way into the tangle of bushes. He moved slowly, slithering between the rough branches like a water snake moving through reeds. They crackled around him, their stems brittle with cold.

  “What’s that?” He heard the stiff mew of one of the cats and froze.

  “Probably a pheasant or a rabbit.”

  “Prey?” Excitement edged the she-cat’s hiss.

  “We’ll eat later,” snapped the tom. “You need to follow those cats.”

  Follow those cats? Gray Wing stretched his ears. He slithered forward as lightly as he could until he was close to the edge of the heather, hoping its dusty scent would mask his own. Through the spiky branches he could make out the two cats.

  A broad-shouldered brown tabby faced a black she-cat. Both were scarred, their ears nicked at the tips and their fur crisscrossed by old wounds. The tabby’s front legs were marked with a slash of white, his ears were torn, and half his whiskers were missing. The black cat’s tail was short, squared at the end as though half had been lost in an accident.

  How does she balance with half a tail? Gray Wing squinted through the heather. The black cat looked young, despite her scars; her muscles were taut. The tabby’s flanks sagged with age, but experience glinted in his eyes, and Gray Wing noticed his long claws flexing as he talked. He’d be a formidable enemy, Gray Wing guessed.

  The tabby went on. “I want you to follow them. Find out where they settle. I knew they’d leave this barren piece of land eventually. I need to know where they make camp, where they hunt, their habits, their weaknesses, everything!”

  “But why, Slash?” The black cat’s mew quavered.

  “Don’t be such a mouse-brain, Fern!” The tabby lashed out with a paw and caught her across the ear.

  Fern ducked away, a low whine in her throat.

  “Just do as I tell you!” Slash hissed. “Watch and wait and report back to me.”

  “Why can’t you come with me?”

  Gray Wing wondered why Fern wasn’t happy to be away from her vicious companion.

  “I’ve got other fish to catch.” There was menace in Slash’s tone. “Don’t let me down, Fern. Star Flower betrayed me, and she’s lucky I let her live. I won’t be so soft with you.”

  “I won’t let you down,” Fern promised quickly, pressing her belly to the ground like a frightened kit.

  “And don’t let them see you!” Slash showed his teeth. “When the time comes, I want to see the surprise on their soft, kitty-loving face
s for myself.”

  “I’ll be like a shadow,” Fern mewed.

  “You’d better be, or you know what I’ll do to you.”

  Gray Wing saw Fern tremble as terror shone in her gaze. “I—I know, Slash.”

  “Good.” Slash straightened, then stalked away across the grass.

  Fern watched him leave, the terror in her eyes hardening to hate.

  Gray Wing’s tail-tip twitched uneasily. These rogues were going to be trouble, and yet their alliance was based on fear. That is their weakness. He kept still as Fern padded away. The black she-cat was heading across the slope, no doubt aiming for the Thunderpath and the pine forest beyond. He waited until Fern disappeared behind a wide clump of gorse, then wriggled out from the heather. Shaking crumbs of leaf from his pelt, he scanned the moorside. How long had Slash been roaming their territory? He talked as though he’d been watching the cats for a while. And he knew Star Flower. He must have known her father, One Eye. Gray Wing’s paws pricked. These rogues were like poisonous weeds. One Eye had been killed, but Slash had grown in his place. Frustration flashed beneath Gray Wing’s pelt. Will we never find peace?

  He ducked back into the heather. He had to catch up to the others without bumping into Fern. He followed an arcing route around the gorse and slid from the heather near the top of the moor. From here he could see rolling countryside sweeping toward the mountains and, ahead, a steep sharp slope down toward the Thunderpath. Shapes moved over it. Jagged Peak and the others! Bounding forward, Gray Wing hurried to catch up. He paced himself, trying to ignore the stabbing in his chest, which was tightening more as the wind chilled. Flakes of snow began to whip his flank. A thick fall was closing in, already swallowing the distant mountains. By the time he reached his friends, he could hardly see a tail-length ahead.

  “Gray Wing, is that you?” Pebble Heart’s voice called through the storm. Gray Wing followed it, relieved to see the young tom and his campmates. The kits were still clinging to Mouse Ear, Mud Paws, and Tall Shadow. Snow coated their pelts.

  “There’ll be shelter in the forest!” Jagged Peak called.

  Holly answered him. “We have to cross the Thunderpath first.”