Эрин Хантер - A Forest Divided

“Let me take them out onto the moor.” Gray Wing blinked at Wind Runner. “The heather always smells best after rain.”

Gorse Fur purred. “I wouldn’t waste your time arguing.” He nudged Wind Runner’s cheek with his nose. “Let’s go back to our nests and let them go roaming if they want to. The kits will be safe with Gray Wing.”

“They’re too big for badger rides,” Wind Runner commented.

“That’s Gray Wing’s problem.” Gorse Fur padded across the clearing.

“I’ll come with you,” Slate offered.

Gray Wing grunted as Dust Muzzle scrambled onto his back. Wind Runner was right. The kit was as heavy as a fat rabbit.

“What about me?” Moth Flight mewed.

Slate padded toward her. “You can climb on my back, but I can’t promise to carry you for long.”

She swayed as the kit clambered up.

“Take us as far as the moortop,” Moth Flight pleaded.

Gray Wing ducked through the tunnel. Dust Muzzle pressed himself low as the heather swept over their heads. Out on the moor, Gray Wing headed upslope. He wanted to see the view from the top.

His injured paw ached as he carried Dust Muzzle, but he didn’t care. Slate caught up to him, Moth

Flight balancing precariously on her back. She was frowning with the effort of carrying the young she-cat.

“Get off now, you two.” Gray Wing shook Dust Muzzle from his shoulders. “You can run to the top of the moor.”

Dust Muzzle sprang onto the grass. “Come on, Moth Flight! I’ll race you.”

Gray Wing watched the two young cats streak away. He fell in beside Slate. “Are you glad I came back?” he asked, his mouth dry.

Slate shot him a teasing look. “What do you think?”

Clear Sky curled tighter around Star Flower. It was moonhigh, and the she-cat was in a deep sleep, her golden pelt warm. Above them, stars showed between the branches of the oaks.

They had returned to camp after burying Quiet Rain. Acorn Fur and Nettle had hurried to greet him, wondering what had kept him away so long. When he’d told them of his mother’s death, they’d brushed past him, showing their sympathy. Alder and Birch had brought him prey, two voles that they’d caught near the snake rocks.

Birch had narrowed his eyes when Clear Sky had given one to Star Flower. “We caught them for you .”

Clear Sky glared at him. “We share prey in this camp.”

Alder grunted. “When she disappeared, we thought she’d left again.”

Clear Sky’s hackles lifted. “She left you to be with me.”

Had there been gossip while they’d been away? Had his campmates been discussing whether they could trust Star Flower? If only they had seen her loyalty and strength in Tall Shadow’s camp, they’d know the answer was yes. She’d encouraged and comforted him selflessly. Tall Shadow and Gray Wing had seen her devotion and treated her as an equal. Quiet Rain had admired her spirit. Even

Thunder had begun to show her a grudging respect.

Grief jabbed Clear Sky’s belly as he thought of his kin. For two nights he’d slept beneath the same trees as them. And together they had mourned Quiet Rain’s death. Why do they have to choose different paths from mine?

He closed his eyes, breathing in the warmth of Star Flower’s pelt, and let weariness pull him into sleep.

“Clear Sky.”

A soft mew woke him.

He jerked up his head, blinking.

A silver she-cat stood at the edge of his nest, her eyes glittering in the starlight.

“Storm?” He kept his mew low. Star Flower stirred beside him but didn’t wake.

What was the spirit cat doing here? He felt a flash of guilt. His hunger for power had driven

Storm away while she carried his kits. Now he was nestled beside Star Flower, happier with his life than he had been with Storm. Had she come to reproach him?

“I’m sorry,” he began.

Her eyes widened. “What for?” Her mew was rich with affection. “You have everything you want, and it pleases me to see you settled at last.”

Clear Sky’s throat tightened. “I just wish I’d given you happiness when I had the chance.”

Unwanted memories began to flit through his mind: Jagged Peak’s accident, his quarrels with Thunder, the battle with Gray Wing. “I have let every cat down. Even Quiet Rain.” He saw again the look of disgust his mother had flashed at him.

“Clear Sky.” Fondness filled Storm’s gaze. “Forgive yourself.”

That’s what Quiet Rain told me.

“You’ve made mistakes,” she went on. “But that is part of living.”

“I’ve driven every cat away.” Clear Sky gazed forlornly at her.

She nodded toward Star Flower. “Not every cat.”

He dropped his gaze. “Star Flower understands me.”

Silver light washed Clear Sky’s nest, and when he looked up, Storm’s pelt glowed like the moon.

“The others understand you more than you think. You didn’t drive them away—they had their own paths to follow, and they are right to follow them. You will see this, in time.” She glanced up at the stars. “We are all where we belong.”

“Don’t you all belong with me?”

Storm purred. “Oh, Clear Sky,” she murmured. “Do you really want your future filled with your past? It’s time for you to look forward.” She reached out a forepaw and laid it gently on Star

Flower’s flank. “Your future lies in here, with these kits. Take care of them.”

Clear Sky felt a chill at his side and blinked open his eyes.

I was sleeping! Storm had been a dream. He turned to nuzzle Star Flower’s belly, his heart filling with love for his unborn kits.

Star Flower! Where was she? The nest was empty beside him, the moss growing chilly where she’d been.

“Star Flower?” he called under his breath. Had she gone to make dirt? Unease pricking in his pelt, he clambered to his paws and hopped out of his nest.

He stood at the edge of the bracken and pricked his ears. “Star Flower!”

A wail sounded from the trees.

Was she hurt? Were the kits coming too soon?

He plunged through the bracken and raced between the trees. “Star Flower?” Ears pricked, he listened for another cry.

“She’s over here.” A nasty yowl rang from the gloom.

The claw of dread hollowed Clear Sky’s belly. He jerked his head toward the voice.

Eyes gleamed from the shadows.

“Who is it?” he hissed.

Shapes moved between the trees. He recognized the glow of Star Flower’s pelt. Around her clustered three mangy, scarred toms.

Clear Sky unsheathed his claws. “Let her go,” he growled.

“She can leave if she wants.” One of the toms stepped forward. He was a brown tabby with broad shoulders, torn ears, and half a set of whiskers. A flash of white fur showed across his front legs.

Clear Sky peered past him at Star Flower. Why wasn’t she trying to escape? She stood meek as a kit between the ginger tom and his brown tabby ally. “Come to me, Star Flower. I won’t let them hurt you.”

She didn’t move. Fear showed in her eyes.

“Star Flower always was sensible,” the gray tom sneered.

“You know these cats?” Clear Sky stared in surprise at Star Flower.

“We grew up together.” The gray tom threw a glance back at Star Flower. “I always thought she’d be my mate, but now she’s carrying your kits.”

Fury pulsed in Clear Sky’s chest. “Who are you?”

“I’m Slash.” The tom’s eyes glittered with self-satisfaction. “An old friend of One Eye’s.”