Warriors: Dawn of the Clans #2: Thunder Rising (9 page)

“I . . . I wondered about that, Stoneteller,” Gray Wing meowed eagerly. “Turtle Tail’s kits need a father. . . .”

Stoneteller dipped her head. “That may be so,” she responded. “And yet I think there is another reason that your dream has led you here, into the place set apart for the leaders of our Tribe.”

“But
I’m
not—” Gray Wing began to protest, then broke off, staring appalled at Stoneteller. “Tall Shadow is our leader,” he went on after a moment’s silence. “She should be here, not me.”

Stoneteller blinked. “Who can tell what lies ahead in the seasons to come?” she asked. “Be ready, Gray Wing. And may you walk your new path with courage. . . .”

As her voice died away the moonlight faded, leaving Gray Wing standing in darkness. Before he had time to feel afraid, he was waking in his own nest, with his denmates sleeping around him.

The next morning dawned dull and chilly, with a slap of rain in the wind. Gray Wing emerged from his nest, fluffing up his pelt against the damp cold. The camp was quiet; he guessed that most of the cats were still asleep, though Tall Shadow was already perched on her rock, keeping watch in spite of the weather.

Of course she’s our leader
, Gray Wing told himself, pushing the disturbing dream to the back of his mind.

As he gave himself a quick grooming, he spotted Thunder emerging from the tunnel he shared with Lightning Tail and Acorn Fur. As soon as he saw Gray Wing, the young cat bounded over to him.

“Can I see Turtle Tail’s kits?” he asked eagerly.

“I’m not sure . . . ,” Gray Wing began. “She needs peace and quiet, to sleep and get her strength back.”

“Nonsense.” Gray Wing turned to see Cloud Spots appearing from Turtle Tail’s tunnel. “She’d love some visitors. Why don’t you go hunting and bring a mouse for her? She’ll be hungry.”

“Okay, why not?” Gray Wing agreed.

He was afraid that with the sudden change in weather all the prey would be snugly down their holes, but they hadn’t gone far when Thunder spotted a mouse sheltering under a gorse bush.

With a glance at Gray Wing, who nodded encouragingly, he took off after it, leaping on the mouse with a triumphant yowl and padding back to Gray Wing with the limp body dangling from his jaws.

“Great catch,” Gray Wing meowed, relieved that this time Thunder had caught the mouse without any trouble. “See, I said you would get there in the end.”

Thunder’s eyes were shining. “Can we go and see Turtle Tail now?”

“Let’s see if we can find something else first,” Gray Wing replied, wondering if he was deliberately delaying. “Turtle Tail must be starving, and one mouse isn’t all that much.”

Thunder left his mouse in a crack between two rocks, and the two cats headed away from the hollow, stalking quietly around a clump of gorse. This time Gray Wing was the first to spot prey: another mouse that scuttled away from him in a panic, straight into Thunder’s paws. Thunder sank his claws into it and gave it a good shake.

“Two catches!” Gray Wing praised him. “You’re a real hunter now.”

“That one was really yours,” Thunder mewed modestly. “I’d have had to be blind and deaf and clawless to miss it.”

Returning to the rocks, Thunder collected the first mouse and carried both of them swinging from their tails as Gray Wing led the way back to the camp.

Turtle Tail was gazing down at her kits when they entered her den. All three were safe in the curve of her belly, squirming blindly on the moss and letting out tiny mews.

To Gray Wing’s surprise, Jagged Peak was sitting beside Turtle Tail, watching the kits keenly and patting them back toward their mother if they strayed too far away. Rainswept Flower was there, too, tucking fresh bedding around Turtle Tail and her litter.

“What are you doing here?” Gray Wing asked his brother.

“He’s being helpful,” Rainswept Flower replied before Jagged Peak had a chance to speak. There was an edge to her tone. “Aren’t you happy that the kits are being looked after and we’re all pulling together?”

“Uh . . . sure,” Gray Wing responded. “I didn’t mean to criticize.”

“That’s okay.” Jagged Peak sounded more content than he had since being cast out of Clear Sky’s group.

Rainswept Flower gave a last pat to the fresh moss. “We could do with some more of that,” she mewed, more like her cheerful self again. “Jagged Peak, come and help me collect it. We don’t want to crowd Turtle Tail.”

As she slipped out of the den, Jagged Peak rose to his paws and limped after her, giving Gray Wing and Thunder a nod as he passed.

“See you later, Jagged Peak,” Turtle Tail called after him, and added to Gray Wing, “He seems to be feeling better. I’m so glad!”

“So am I,” Gray Wing meowed. “Look, we brought you some prey. Thunder caught them.”

“Really? Good job, Thunder,” Turtle Tail responded. “And thank you. My belly feels so empty!”

Thunder dropped the mice beside her and scuffled his forepaws in embarrassment. “I couldn’t have done it without Gray Wing.” He gazed down at the kits, his eyes wide with wonder. “They’re so small and helpless,” he murmured. His gaze gradually grew distant; Gray Wing guessed that he was remembering his mother, Storm, and his littermates, now gone forever.

Turtle Tail began eating one of the mice with rapid, famished bites. As she ate, Gray Wing watched the kittens, fascinated by their tiny, perfect bodies. Their fur was dry and fluffed out now; one of the toms had a dark gray pelt, while the other was a gray tabby with a splotch of white fur on his chest. The little tortoiseshell she-cat kept tumbling over onto her back, waving white paws in the air.

“Do you like them?” Turtle Tail mumbled around a mouthful of mouse.

“Like them?” Gray Wing could hardly find words to express what he was feeling, joy and pain at once. “They’re . . . they’re so trusting and innocent.”

Turtle Tail let out a
mrrow
of laughter. “You won’t think like that for much longer. Kits can be naughty, too!”

Gray Wing’s pads prickled with embarrassment.
Of course I know that! What’s the matter with me?

“Have you given them names yet?” Thunder asked, stretching out one paw tentatively to stroke the tabby tom on his head.

“Not yet,” Turtle Tail replied. “It’s so difficult to decide. I think I’ll wait at least until their eyes are open.” She met Gray Wing’s gaze, her expression soft, as if she realized she had hurt his feelings by laughing. “Come closer,” she invited. “Maybe you could help the little she-cat—she’s not very coordinated!”

Gray Wing took a step forward and righted the tiny tortoiseshell, who had tipped over again and was flailing her paws frantically as she let out a loud series of squeaks. Once upright, she stumbled forward and flopped down beside Turtle Tail; her wailing stopped abruptly as she started to suckle.

The two toms snuggled in beside her. Gray Wing watched as the three of them nursed, thinking back to how Turtle Tail had said that they needed a father.

After Storm died, I accepted that I’d never have kits of my own. But now
 . . . His heart fluttered excitedly at the thought of helping Turtle Tail to bring up her kits.

Turtle Tail’s eyelids were drooping; she still looked exhausted, and she hadn’t managed to finish the second mouse.

“We’ll let you sleep,” Gray Wing murmured, touching Thunder on the shoulder with his tail. As they headed out of the den, he added, “Come on, let’s do some more hunting.”

Excited squealing roused Gray Wing from sleep. Blinking drowsily, he emerged from his nest and arched his back in a good long stretch. The sun shone down on the camp; the sky was a clear blue, dotted with little puffs of white cloud. A warm breeze blew from the moor, bringing the scent of prey and fresh green growth.

Across the camp, Turtle Tail’s kits had tumbled from their sleeping tunnel and were playing with Jagged Peak, who was gently pretending to fight with them and letting them climb on his back. A moon had passed since the kits were born, and all three of them were growing strong and active. Gray Wing felt warmth surge through him to see how close his brother was to the kits.

Turtle Tail sat at the entrance to the den, keeping an eye on them as she groomed her fur. Rainswept Flower and Hawk Swoop were observing them, too, from a little farther away. Hawk Swoop raised her tail to keep Lightning Tail and Acorn Fur back. “You can’t play with them yet,” she meowed. “They’re too little.”

On the other side of the camp Tall Shadow was grooming herself in her den, while Shattered Ice and Jackdaw’s Cry were on the way out to hunt. Cloud Spots was sorting through a pile of herbs, tossing out the ones that were shriveled.

Optimism rose inside Gray Wing at the sight of daily life continuing peacefully in the camp. He bounded over to join Turtle Tail. “Hi,” he meowed. “The kits are lively this morning.”

Turtle Tail nodded, her eyes full of love as she gazed at her litter. “Jagged Peak is being such a help,” she purred. “It’s wonderful to have another cat to keep an eye on them when I’m tired and you’re out hunting.”

“Jagged Peak is happier, too,” Gray Wing mewed.

As he spoke, the three kits came charging back to their mother. Jagged Peak waved his tail in farewell and settled down to give himself a thorough wash.

“I finally named them,” Turtle Tail told Gray Wing as the kits scrambled around her. “The gray tom is called Owl Eyes.”

As she spoke, the kit she named whipped around and stared at Gray Wing with wide, brilliant amber eyes.

“That’s a really good name,” Gray Wing commented.

“The tabby tom is Pebble Heart,” Turtle Tail went on, “because of the white mark on his chest, and the tortoiseshell is Sparrow Fur.”

“We like having names,” Pebble Heart informed Gray Wing, giving an excited little bounce.

“And Mother says we can go out on the moor today,” Sparrow Fur added. She butted her head against Turtle Tail’s side. “Come on! You’re groomed enough!”

Gray Wing felt amusement bubbling up inside him. Turtle Tail had her paws full with the kits, even though they were only one moon old.

“Are you sure it’s safe to take them out?” he asked Turtle Tail.

“They have to leave the camp sometime,” Turtle Tail replied. “And we’re not going far: just to the top of the hollow.”

“I’m going to catch a mouse!” Owl Eyes boasted.

“I’ll come with you if you like,” Gray Wing offered. “I think it might take two of us to keep them in order.”

“I think you’re right,” Turtle Tail responded, a gleam of pleasure in her eyes. “All right, kits, let’s go.”

The three kits charged off up the slope; Turtle Tail caught up with them and made them wait until Gray Wing had ventured onto the moor and checked that there was no sign of trouble.

The kits halted in amazement as they scrambled over the edge of the hollow and gazed around.

“It’s huge!” Pebble Heart exclaimed. “I never knew the world was this big.”

“It’s much bigger than this,” Turtle Tail meowed. “Remember the story I told you of how we traveled for days and days to get here from the mountains?”

“Can we go and see the mountains?” Sparrow Fur asked.

“Not today,” Gray Wing replied. “Today we’re just exploring around the camp.”

He and Turtle Tail strolled side by side, always staying within tail-lengths of the hollow, while the kits ran excitedly here and there, chasing butterflies and batting at beetles in the grass. It was nice to see the world through the kits’ eyes.

Owl Eyes leaped onto a caterpillar, squashing it flat. “I killed it!” he announced proudly. “I can hunt!”

“So you can,” Turtle Tail purred, and added softly to Gray Wing, “That poor caterpillar never stood a chance!”

Enjoying the kits’ antics, Gray Wing felt even happier that the recent tensions in the camp seemed to have died down. His denmates hadn’t gone on insisting that he should take over as leader. That was a huge relief, even though Tall Shadow had been cool with him since the night of the argument.

She stalked off and never heard me refuse to be leader
, he realized.
I hope she doesn’t think I’m trying to undermine her
.

Gray Wing might have taken offense that his leader didn’t trust him, but he was enjoying the kits too much to give Tall Shadow more thought. She was still keeping watch over the camp, almost constantly perched on her rock since Turtle Tail’s time was taken up with her kits.

Wind and Gorse had visited the camp several times, and had shown the mountain cats more good places to hunt. Gray Wing hoped that Tall Shadow would soon see the sense in allowing them to stay permanently.

He relaxed, enjoying the unusually warm day as the sun soaked into his fur. He drank in Turtle Tail’s scent, strong beside him in the sun’s heat. Then Gray Wing stiffened. He had picked up the scent of another cat, which at first he couldn’t identify; something about it reminded him of the Twolegplace.
Not one of my denmates; not Gorse or Wind
 . . .

Then there was a flash of white paws, and a cat leaped clumsily out from a clump of gorse.

“Bumble!” Turtle Tail cried in astonishment.

Gray Wing stared at the plump tortoiseshell. This was the cat Turtle Tail had gone to live with in the Twolegplace.
What is she doing here?

Bumble padded forward and dipped her head awkwardly to Turtle Tail, who didn’t respond for a moment. Gray Wing remembered how confident Bumble had been when they first met her at the place with four oaks. She looked strained now, unsure of her welcome.

I remember Turtle Tail told me that Bumble kept the truth from her, that the Twolegs would take her kits away. Is that why she looks so unhappy now?

The kits were tumbling around Bumble’s paws, but for once none of the adult cats were paying them much attention. Gray Wing picked up the smell of dried blood on Bumble’s fur; looking closer, he could spot some scratches on her legs and flanks.

Turtle Tail had noticed them too. “Who did that to you?” she asked gently, flicking her tail toward the injuries.

The kittypet lowered her head; Gray Wing could sense the pain and misery she was feeling, but she said nothing.