Path of Stars (20 page)

He pressed his cheek to hers. “Nothing bad will happen to our kits,” he promised softly. “Not as long as I live.”

Clear Sky settled down on the
crooked bough that overhung the camp. The frosty bark felt cold against his belly. An icy chill had gripped the forest overnight and hadn't let go. Gazing down, he watched Tiny Branch, Dew Petal, and Flower Foot as they charged around the clearing. Each time they scampered past the yew, they peeked into the shadows, their eyes wide with gleeful terror.

Clear Sky's whiskers twitched with amusement. They'd been playing this game since sunhigh. Blossom was crouching deep beneath the yew.

As Dew Petal raced past, the tiny she-cat veered enticingly close to the bush. The yew trembled. Blossom darted out, grabbed the kit, and bundled her inside.

Dew Petal squealed with fear and delight as Flower Foot and Tiny Branch raced to rescue her. They dived beneath the branches, their fluffy tails sticking up.

“Let her go!”

Clear Sky heard Tiny Branch's defiant mew.

“You can't have her!” Flower Foot hissed.

Blossom's ominous growl sounded from the shadows.
“I'm going to eat her all up!”

“Nooooo!” Dew Petal half purred and half wailed.

The yew trembled again, and Tiny Branch backed out, pulling Dew Petal with him. Flower Foot scrambled clear, swiping at Blossom as the tortoiseshell stuck her nose from beneath the branches.

“I'll get you next time!” Blossom pretended to threaten the kits as they ran clear and skidded to a halt at the far side of the clearing.

Clear Sky purred with pride as he saw them bunch together, shooting glances at the yew. He guessed they were planning their revenge.

Sparrow Fur and Thorn glanced at the kits from the edge of the clearing, where they were sorting through the prey pile. Since Slash had stopped stealing from the group, no cat had gone hungry. Prey was still scarce, but Clear Sky was pleased to see that his campmates were growing ever more skillful at hunting. Red had brought a pigeon back yesterday. He'd climbed a tree to reach it, and promised to show the others how to hide in the crook of a branch and wait for birds.

Clear Sky had asked Red about Slash, of course. Red had confessed that he was from Slash's group, hanging his head with shame as he begged Clear Sky to believe that he'd only hidden the truth about being a rogue because he'd wanted to stay with Clear Sky's group so much. Clear Sky wanted to trust him, and yet Red
had
misled him. And he couldn't forget that Red had led dogs into Slash's camp. That was a dumb mistake. And dangerous. What if the rogue brought dogs here?

At the edge of the camp, Quick Water pushed her paw through the ice covering a puddle and lapped from it. “You must be thirsty,” she called to the kits. “You've been running around all morning.”

Their eyes lit up, and they raced to the she-cat's side and lapped eagerly from the puddle while Quick Water gingerly picked up a hunk of ice between her teeth and carried it across the clearing. She padded past Birch and Alder, who were sharing tongues at the bottom of the short slope that led to Clear Sky's den.

Birch shuddered as water dripped from the ice onto his tail. “Are you taking a drink to Star Flower?”

Quick Water nodded and hopped up the bank.

Nettle and Red padded into camp, their paws flecked with frost. A mouse hung from Red's jaws.

Nettle called to Clear Sky. “Gorse Fur is heading this way. We've just seen him crossing the border.”

Clear Sky pushed himself to his paws and leaped down from the branch. Landing lightly beside Red, he glanced at the camp entrance.

Dew Petal, Tiny Branch, and Flower Foot hurried toward him.

“Can we go and meet him?” Tiny Branch asked excitedly.

Clear Sky flicked his tail. “You're not old enough to leave camp.”

Dew Petal rolled her eyes. “You
always
say that!”

“We get older every day,” Flower Foot argued. “When will we be old
enough
?”

Nettle nudged the kit's cheek with his muzzle. “When you can fight a fox.”

“Or a rogue,” Red added.

Tiny Branch squared up to Red. “Let me practice on you!” he begged. “You were a rogue once.” He reared on his hind legs and threw a forepaw at Red's muzzle. Red pretended to stagger and collapsed to the ground. Dew Petal leaped onto his flank, squeaking with delight. Flower Foot grabbed the tom's tail. Wrapping her forepaws around it, she churned it with her hind legs. Tiny Branch flung himself onto the tom, and Red rolled over, purring as the kits swarmed over him.

Clear Sky shifted his paws uneasily.
Should I trust him?

He shivered as he watched his kits pummeling Red. They squeaked with delight as, purring, Red begged for mercy. “No! Please let me go!” The kits were still so small, the glossy russet tom could shake them off any time he liked. A
dog
could snap them in two with a single bite.

Nettle interrupted Clear Sky's thoughts. “Should I escort Gorse Fur through the woods?”

“What?” Clear Sky blinked at the gray tom, only half hearing.

“I don't need an escort.” Gorse Fur padded through the entrance. He dipped his head to Clear Sky. “I hope I am welcome.”

“Of course.” Clear Sky hurried to meet the moor cat, worry pricking in his paws as he saw the somber expression in the tom's eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Gorse Fur glanced at the kits and padded to the edge of the
clearing. He lowered his voice as Clear Sky followed. “One of our rogues has gone back to Slash,” he murmured.

Clear Sky leaned close, alarm flashing through his fur. “Which one?”

“Bee.”

So these rogues aren't trustworthy?
Fear curled icy claws in his belly. “The others are still loyal?”

“They say they are. Fern's badly wounded. Bee attacked her before she ran away.” Gorse Fur sat down and curled his tail across his paws. “Wind Runner is worried that the other rogues might do the same. I'm visiting the camps to warn all the leaders.”

“Do you know why Bee went back to Slash?”

“She said we are mouse-hearts and she'd rather live with real cats like Slash.”

Clear Sky glanced at Red.

Gorse Fur followed his gaze. “Do you trust him?”

Clear Sky's thoughts were whirling. “He's done nothing wrong.”

“Does he help with camp duties?” Gorse Fur asked softly.

“Yes.” Red was always first to volunteer for morning patrol. And he still caught far more prey than he ate.

Gorse Fur blinked at Clear Sky. “Wind Runner is worried that the rogues have infiltrated our groups to cause trouble. But I can't believe it. Willow is desperate to have her revenge on Bee. And why would Bee hurt Fern so badly if they were both part of the deception?” The wiry tom paused. “And yet it does no harm to be careful until we're sure where the rogues' real loyalties lie.”

Clear Sky nodded and padded back to the clearing. “Tiny Branch! Dew Petal! Flower Foot! You've been playing all day. You must be tired. Go rest with Star Flower.”

The kits stopped scrambling over Red and stared at their father, puzzled.

“But it's not even sunset,” Tiny Branch complained.

“It soon will be,” Clear Sky told him firmly. “Another frost is coming. You'll be warmer in your nest.”

“But we were having fun,” Flower Foot huffed.

Dew Petal lashed her stumpy tail. “It's not fair!”

Clear Sky frowned. “Go to your nest.” Guilt pricked in his belly as the three kits clambered slowly off Red and padded toward the slope.

Tiny Branch glanced reproachfully over his shoulder. “It's not like we've done anything wrong.”

“I know.” Clear Sky's heart twisted in his chest. “Go and keep Star Flower company. I'll bring you something to eat soon.”

As they scrambled up the slope, Nettle hurried toward Clear Sky. “Has something happened?” He nodded toward the kits as they disappeared through the bracken. “Why did you make them stop playing?”

Red jumped to his paws. He shook out his fur and headed for the fresh-kill pile.

Clear Sky watched him go. “Gorse Fur says one of their rogues has returned to Slash,” he told Nettle quietly.

Nettle's gaze flashed toward Red. “Do you think he might do the same?”

Clear Sky's ears twitched. An idea was pushing at the edges
of his thoughts. “I don't know, but we need to find out.”

Gorse Fur got to his paws and dipped his head. “I must go. I want to warn Thunder and River Ripple before dark.”

As the moor cat headed for the entrance, Clear Sky called after him. “Will Fern be okay?”

“She's strong, and she's recovering quickly,” Gorse Fur answered without stopping.

“I wish her the best.” Clear Sky watched Gorse Fur disappear through the bramble barrier. “Thanks for coming.”

Nettle's pelt was rippling along his spine. “How will you find out if Red can be trusted?”

Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. “I have a plan . . . but I need you to help me.”

Rosy dawn light seeped between the bare branches. Clear Sky crouched lower beneath the arching root of an oak. Leaving the camp while the moon still shone, he'd tracked Nettle and Red's scent here. The two cats had been hunting all night.

“Why?” Red had asked when Clear Sky had drawn him aside and told him that he was to spend the night hunting.

“It's a test of your skills,” Clear Sky told him. “And your courage. Nettle will go with you. You must hunt, but you cannot eat. Every piece of prey that you catch is for your campmates.”

Red had blinked at him uncertainly, then nodded. “Okay.”

Now he could see Red's pelt, fluffed out against the icy air. Clear Sky was downwind and hidden by the root. Neither cat would be able to see him.

He watched Nettle pad around the russet rogue. “Let's eat
one
piece of prey,” Nettle meowed pleadingly. “I'm starving. Clear Sky will never know.”

“I promised him I'd take
everything
I caught back to camp,” Red told him. “You can eat if you want, but I'm not going to.”

Nettle rolled his eyes. “You're a mouse-brain.” He pawed a dead mouse from beneath a pile of leaves and bit into it. “So delicious.” Chewing, he looked at Red. “Are you sure you don't want some?”

Clear Sky leaned forward. The scent of fresh blood was making
his
mouth water. Red must be starving and frozen to the bone.

Red padded away from his campmate. “I promised Clear Sky, and I'm sticking to my promise.”

Clear Sky frowned. Was Red being smart? Had he guessed that Nettle was spying for him? It was time to push the rogue a little harder. He slid from beneath the root and padded toward the toms.

He caught Nettle's eye as he neared. Red was scanning the trees distractedly, clearly looking for more prey. Quickly, Nettle swallowed his mouthful and kicked the remains of the mouse closer to the rogue.

Clear Sky padded toward them, his hackles high. “I thought I told you not to eat what you caught?”

Red swung around, shock rippling through his pelt. His gaze flashed guiltily to the remains of the mouse, then to Nettle.

Nettle blinked at Red calmly. “I told you we weren't supposed to eat.”

Red stared at him in disbelief. “But—” He paused, then
faced Clear Sky. “I'm sorry,” he meowed. “We were so hungry. We thought you wouldn't miss one mouse.”

Clear Sky tipped his head in surprise. Red was taking the blame for his campmate. He forced himself to frown. “I need to be able to trust you,” he growled.

“I promise, it will never happen again.” Red began to haul away leaves from the pile, uncovering a heap of prey. A rabbit lay beside several shrews and another mouse. Two thrushes and a starling were draped over them. “We caught so much. No one will go hungry. And, if they do,
I'll
go without food.”

This cat is too good to be true!
Suspicion wormed beneath Clear Sky's pelt. Why was Red being so honorable? He narrowed his eyes. “That's not enough!” he snapped. “Catch more before you return to camp.” Turning sharply, he stalked away. As he passed a clump of bracken, he ducked down and spied on Red once more.