Erin Hunter - The First Battle

“Come on, then.” Jackdaw’s Cry strode across the boundary line, tail flicking.

Thunder scanned the ferns for movement as he followed Jackdaw’s Cry. Anger growled in his belly. Why couldn’t they walk where they pleased without fear? Clear Sky had ruined everything with his fox-hearted boundaries.

The forest floor rose toward a familiar strip of bracken. An old rabbit trail cut through it. He knew it well. It led straight to the camp. “Follow me.” He slid past Jackdaw’s Cry and headed up the slope.

A hiss pierced his ear fur.

He halted, hackles lifting.

Yellow fur flashed from behind a tree.

“What are you doing here?” Petal faced him, lips drawn back.

Thunder flinched, shocked by her hostility. A few days ago, he’d watched her playing tail-chase with Alder and Birch, as gentle and loving as any mother. Now she looked as vicious as a cornered rogue. “Petal?” He spoke gently. She couldn’t have forgotten they’d been denmates. “How are the kits?”

She spat, every hair bristling. “What’s that to do with you? Why are you on Clear Sky’s land?”

“Jackdaw’s Cry!” A happy mew sounded from the bracken. Falling Feather burst out. “Relax, Petal. It’s my brother!” She raced down the slope and stopped, her eyes shining.

“Falling Feather!” Jackdaw’s Cry stepped forward.

A growl rumbled in Petal’s throat.

Falling Feather stiffened, guilt clouding her gaze. She backed away from her brother, ducking behind Petal. “This isn’t your land,” she murmured stiffly. “You have to leave.”

Jackdaw’s Cry objected. “But I haven’t seen you for—”

Petal cut him off. “Falling Feather doesn’t belong with you anymore,” she snarled.

“She’s still my littermate!”

Littermate . Thunder felt a pang of grief for Jackdaw’s Cry. Longing echoed deep within him. He blinked, surprised at the pain.

“Falling Feather chose to live in the forest with Clear Sky,” Petal growled. “Which means you live on opposite sides of the border. You shouldn’t be here.”

Thunder hissed. “I’ve come to speak to my father.” He dug his claws into the earth. “We may have borders now, but he can’t forget that we come from the same place and share the same ancestors.”

Petal padded closer, eyes slitted. “We don’t all come from the same place.” She circled Thunder, looking him up and down menacingly.

He unsheathed the tips of his claws. If she wanted a fight, he was ready.

Petal went on. “I’ve lived here my whole life, just like your mother . Clear Sky and these two might come from the mountains”—she scowled at Falling Feather and Jackdaw’s Cry—“but they chose different leaders. The only things we have in common with one another now are the boundaries Clear Sky set for us.”

“That’s no reason we can’t live in peace,” Thunder pressed. “All cats have the same needs and the same instincts.”

“ Peace? ” Petal snorted. “Ever since I was a kit, I’ve seen nothing but fights. Boundaries will put an end to that.”

“Which is why we must speak to Clear Sky,” Thunder put in quickly. “We want to make sure that his boundaries bring peace, not conflict.”

Falling Feather lifted her tail. “I’ll take you to him.” She ignored Petal’s growl. “But I can’t promise he’ll be pleased to see you.”

Thunder snorted. I can’t promise I’ll be pleased to see him. “Let me worry about that,” he told her. “Just take us to the camp.” He knew he’d never forgive his father for the cruelty he’d shown. He glared at Petal. “Do you want to fight first or can we go?” Unsheathing his claws, an image flashed in his mind—him sinking them into her neck. He pushed it away as Petal backed off, her eyes glittering with unease. Am I as vicious as my father? His chest tightened.

“Follow me.” Falling Feather ducked along the rabbit trail.

Jackdaw’s Cry followed, Thunder falling in behind. He felt Petal’s breath at his heels and heard the bracken swish against her pelt.

Falling Feather led them along a winding trail past hawthorns and ferns. Thunder could smell his own paws-scents, still faint along the route. His heart pounded harder as he recognized the bramble ahead. The camp lay beyond and, as he followed Jackdaw’s Cry past the prickly stems, he stiffened, his gaze quickly scanning the hollow.

Prey-scent filled his nose. A pile lay at one side of the clearing. Another was heaped beside the roots of the oak. A few half-eaten carcasses were scattered along the bottom of the steep slope below the hawthorn, flies buzzing over them. Leaf, the black-and-white tom, lay dozing beside the yew. Fircone and Nettle groomed each other in the clearing. A skinny brown tom sat beside the brambles, his head bowed close to a sleek gray she-cat. They’re new. Thunder tasted the air, gathering their scent. They both had the notched ears of seasoned fighters. Was Clear Sky recruiting more cats?

Movement above caught his eye.

He jerked up his head.

Clear Sky was watching him from a low oak branch, which hung across the clearing. His tail drooped over the side, its tip twitching as he glowered at Thunder. His gaze slid to Jackdaw’s Cry, narrowing, then flicked back. “I thought I’d seen the last of you, son .”

Clear Sky curled his claws into the bark of the jutting oak branch, fighting to keep his pelt smooth. What’s Thunder doing here? He kept his gaze fixed on his son, giving nothing away as he steadied his breath.

I trusted you, and you betrayed me.

Clenching his teeth, he pushed himself slowly to his paws and jumped down into the clearing. Thunder faced him. Jackdaw’s Cry hung back, staying close to Falling Feather. Trust her to be mixed up in this.

“She brought them here, not me.” Petal darted forward, ears flat as she jerked her muzzle toward the white she-cat.

Falling Feather lifted her muzzle. “Do you want to hear what they have to say?” She stared at Clear Sky, unflinching.

“It depends what it is.” Clear Sky slowly circled Thunder and Jackdaw’s Cry. These cats should be afraid of him. They’d crossed the border. They walked into his camp. Let them know they aren’t safe here. He tightened his circle, nudging Jackdaw’s Cry with his shoulder as he passed.

The black tom leaped back, hissing. “Don’t touch me!”

He’s spooked. Satisfaction surged through Clear Sky as he thrust his muzzle close, one eye on Jackdaw’s Cry’s unsheathed claws. “Attack me if you want,” he challenged. He flicked his tail around the forest cats. Nettle and Fircone had padded closer. Thorn and Dew watched, their bristling pelts showing they were ready to fight if necessary. “You’ll die if you do.”

Jackdaw’s Cry’s eyes sparked with fear.

“Stop trying to scare him.” Thunder’s mew was sharp. “If you don’t want to hear why we came, then we’ll leave.”

“If I let you.” Clear Sky turned on his son. Was that disappointment darkening Thunder’s gaze? Pain gripped his heart like claws. Does he actually think I’ve let him down? He squared his shoulders. “Okay,” he growled. “Let’s talk. But not here. I know somewhere we won’t be overheard.”

Dew pricked her ears.

Clear Sky growled at her. “Earn your place with us, and I might show it to you.” He turned, lashing his tail, and climbed the slope past his nest. “Falling Feather, you come too,” he called, not looking back. She needed to see he was in charge. Pushing under the hawthorn, he broke into open woodland. Ferns lined a ditch ahead. He leaped over them, landing lightly on the other side, and padded across the dusty forest floor.