A Forest Divided

by Erin Hunter

  Storm Pelt’s teeth began to chatter. His pink nose tip was white with cold.

  “Come on.” Pebble Heart nudged Dew Nose toward his den.

  Storm Pelt and Eagle Feather fell in beside them. “When will Holly be back?”

  “I’ll go and find her.” Clear Sky eyed the kits sternly. “And the others. Every cat in the camp has been searching for you.”

  “You can scold them later,” Pebble Heart told Clear Sky briskly. “Right now we must warm them up.” As he nosed them into his den, Clear Sky headed out of camp.

  Gray Wing followed Pebble Heart.

  Inside, the kits lined up like owlets and stared nervously at Quiet Rain.

  “Pebble Heart wants us to get warm,” Dew Nose told her timidly.

  Quiet Rain flicked her tail. “I hear you wandered off in the snow.”

  “We climbed a tree all by ourselves,” Storm Pelt told her.

  Pebble Heart padded forward. “Can they share your nest until their fur is warm?”

  “Of course.” Quiet Rain shuffled backward, pain showing in her eyes as she moved.

  “We’ll be careful not to hurt you,” Eagle Feather promised.

  “Thank you.” Quiet Rain eyed him fondly as he climbed over the heather fronds and nestled beside her belly. Dew Nose followed, and Storm Pelt climbed in behind.

  “You have your father’s eyes,” Quiet Rain told Storm Pelt.

  “I don’t,” Dew Nose chimed in. “But Holly says I’m as smart as him.”

  “And what about you?” Quiet Rain asked Eagle Feather. “What do you get from your father?”

  “I can climb trees,” Eagle Feather told her. “But I don’t fall out of them.”

  Quiet Rain’s whiskers twitched. “He must be proud of you all.” She wrapped her tail around them. “Tuck up tight and you’ll be warm in no time.”

  Gray Wing felt memory sweep over him like a warm wind. She comforted me and Clear Sky like that when we were kits. The thought seemed to come from a different lifetime. Suddenly weary, he settled onto his belly and tucked his paws under him.

  Pebble Heart’s breath stirred his ear fur. “I’m going to go to the moor to see if I can find more of my old herbs,” he whispered.

  There was worry in his mew.

  “Do you need them that badly?” Gray Wing glanced toward Quiet Rain, her muzzle resting beside the kits.

  “Her wound is getting worse.” Pebble Heart’s mew was no more than a breath.

  “Should I come with you?” Gray Wing began to move.

  Pebble Heart touched his nose to Gray Wing’s shoulder. “Stay with them.”

  As he slipped from the den, Gray Wing gazed at the kits. Their heads were drooping. Dew Nose rested her muzzle on Storm Pelt’s spine. Eagle Feather tucked his muzzle under Dew Nose’s shoulder. Bundled like mice in a burrow, they slipped into sleep. Beside their gentle snores, Gray Wing heard the rattle of his mother’s breath.

  Her eyes were still half-open, but unseeing.

  Let Pebble Heart’s herbs work! Gray Wing’s chest tightened. She can’t have come all this way just to die.

  CHAPTER 22

  Thunder’s mew woke Clear Sky. Jerking up his head, he blinked at his son. It’s still night! Moonlight filtered through the pines, reflecting in Thunder’s gaze.

  “What is it?” Clear Sky stiffened. “Why did you wake me?” He kept his voice low, conscious of Star Flower sleeping beside him.

  “Pebble Heart sent me. It’s Quiet Rain.” Thunder’s mew was tight with fear. “She’s worse.”

  Clear Sky scrambled to his paws and hopped from the nest hollowed out beneath the bramble. Star Flower stirred in her sleep but didn’t wake.

  “Gray Wing’s with her and I’m going to wake Jagged Peak.” Thunder nodded to the bramble den, where the kits, warm and fed after their adventure, were now sleeping.

  As Thunder padded away, Clear Sky tasted the air. The stone tang of ice had gone. Musty forest scents bathed his tongue. A thaw had set in—melting snow dripped from the canopy.

  He padded through the slush toward Pebble Heart’s den.

  The young tom was waiting at the entrance. “I’m glad you decided to stay another night,” he breathed as Clear Sky neared him. His eyes glittered with grief. “I thought I could save her”—his mew cracked—“but the wound . . .”

  “You couldn’t have done more.” Numbness crept up from Clear Sky’s paws until he could hardly feel the damp air or taste the pine-rich scents of the forest. Quiet Rain is dying. He stared into the shadowy den. I must go in. Every hair on his pelt trembled. I can’t.

  Paws splashed through the melting snow behind him. He caught Star Flower’s scent just before her flank brushed against his.

  He turned and stared into the depth of her luminous green eyes.

  “She’s waiting for you.” Star Flower’s breath warmed his nose.

  He closed his eyes, his heart pounding with dread. Then, blinking, he padded into the den.

  Gray Wing turned as he entered. The gray tom was crouching beside Quiet Rain’s nest. “Pebble Heart’s given her something to ease her pain.” His mew trembled. “I’m not sure she can hear us.”

  Clear Sky gazed at his mother, who was little more than a scrap of fur in the heather nest. He had never seen her so weak. Even in the hungriest days on the mountain, she still seemed to glow with life, fighting for her survival and the safety of her kits. Now she lay limp, every drop of energy drained. Her flanks trembled with each halting breath. Her muzzle was crusty, and her closed eyes looked as wet as fresh wounds.

  “Quiet Rain.” Gray Wing leaned closer as Clear Sky crouched beside him. “Clear Sky’s here now. You asked for him, remember?”

  Clear Sky stiffened as Quiet Rain groaned.

  She opened her eyes slowly. “You came to me.”

  “Yes.” Clear Sky tried to keep the grief from his mew.

  “I knew you would, my dear friend.”

  Friend? I’m your son. “It’s me, Clear Sky.” He moved his muzzle closer so she could smell his scent.

  “It’s good to see you, Shaded Moss.”

  She thinks I’m Shaded Moss!

  The brambles rattled behind him as Jagged Peak hurried in. He slid next to Gray Wing. “How is she?”

  “She thinks she can see Shaded Moss,” Clear Sky breathed.

  The fur rippled along Jagged Peak’s spine. “Does she even know we’re here?”

  Gray Wing’s shoulders drooped. “I don’t think so.”

  “Shaded Moss.” Quiet Rain’s gaze fixed on Clear Sky.

  Grief shuddered through him. She doesn’t know me. He swallowed, fighting the urge to run away.

  “This is the final part of the journey, dear old friend.” Quiet Rain struggled for breath between words. Her ears twitched weakly, as though she was trying to hear something. “What was that you said?” A frown furrowed her brow. “Forgive him? But he killed a Tribemate! He drove his brothers away.”

  Clear Sky stiffened, heat washing his pelt.

  Gray Wing glanced at him. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  But it’s true. Sadness gripped his heart like claws, digging so deep he wanted to groan with the pain.

  Suddenly, Quiet Rain’s eyes closed and her head drooped.

  Jagged Peak thrust his muzzle closer. “Is she—” The words seemed to dry in his mouth.

  Clear Sky guessed what his brother was thinking and leaned forward, relieved to feel Quiet Rain’s breath on his muzzle. “No.”

  As he spoke, her eyes slowly opened.

  He flinched away, his heart lurching. There was sudden clarity in their blue depths. She was staring straight at him.

  “It’s me—Clear Sky,” he told her. He didn’t want her to call him Shaded Moss again.

  “I know,” she murmured. Her gaze flicked to Gray Wing, then Jagged Peak. “All my sons are here.” There was satisfaction in her mew. “Don’t be sad when I’m gone. It will be a relief. I have had a long life, an
d a good one. I’ve known hunger and cold, but I’ve known love too.” She blinked softly at all three of them, her gaze coming to rest on Clear Sky. “And I forgive you, my firstborn. Shaded Moss has spoken to me. He explained . . .” Coughing took hold of her, racking her body until she convulsed helplessly on the heather.

  “Quiet Rain!” Clear Sky leaned over her.

  “Help her!” Jagged Peak called to Pebble Heart, who lingered, wide-eyed, in the entrance.

  “There’s nothing more I can do,” Pebble Heart murmured.

  The coughing eased, and Quiet Rain rasped as she struggled for breath. “Shaded Moss told me.”

  “Told you what?” Clear Sky thrust his muzzle closer.

  “Let her rest.” Jagged Peak reached out his paw and placed it gently on her flank. “She must save her strength.”

  “Save her strength for what? She’s dying!” Clear Sky trembled. “What did Shaded Moss say?”

  “It was all foretold,” Quiet Rain rasped. “You could not help what you did. It had to be that way. I forgive you, Clear Sky, and now”—she drew in a shuddering breath—“you must forgive yourself.”

  Clear Sky felt grief rush over him like a wave as Quiet Rain’s eyes clouded and grew dull. Her head dropped limply onto the heather and her flanks fell still.

  Clear Sky pushed himself to his paws and, leaning over Quiet Rain, closed her lifeless eyes with gentle laps of his tongue.

  Forgive yourself. Her words rang in his mind. For what? His thoughts whirled. So much had happened! What was the crime he was supposed to forgive himself for?

  Weak daylight was seeping into the den. Eagle Feather’s mew rang across the camp. “The snow’s melting!”

  Small paw steps splashed across the clearing.

  Jagged Peak got wearily to his paws and padded from the den. Gray Wing followed, his tail dragging over the earth.

  Clear Sky gazed at Quiet Rain, his heart breaking. If she’d never come here, I wouldn’t have had to watch this.

  And yet a dark knowledge, deep in his belly, told him that these final moments with his mother would mark the rest of his life.

  CHAPTER 23

  Thunder shuddered as a fat drop of water splashed onto his spine. The rainy day was giving way to night.

  Beside him lay Quiet Rain’s body. Clear Sky and Gray Wing sat on either side, stiff in the dying light, while Jagged Peak shivered next to Sun Shadow.

  They’d spent the day sitting vigil beside Quiet Rain. Around them Mud Paws, Fern, and Mouse Ear had come and gone, bringing fresh-kill for the prey pile; Pebble Heart had sorted through the herbs he’d brought back from the hollow, while Star Flower stood by, helping where she could by wrapping the leaves he separated into neat bundles; Tall Shadow had crouched at the head of the clearing, solemnly watching over her camp. At sunhigh, the kits had crept quietly into the forest, Holly close at their heels. Through the afternoon, their excited squeaks sounded beyond the bramble wall of the camp, quickly hushed by their mother. They returned now, as dusk drew in.

  “But why do we have to be quiet?” Dew Nose whispered as she led her littermates around the edge of the clearing.

  “Out of respect for Quiet Rain,” Holly hissed.

  Eagle Feather sniffed. “No one asked her to come here and die.”

  “Hush!” Storm Pelt pawed his brother’s tail sharply. “She was kind to us, remember?”

  Thunder glanced uneasily at Sun Shadow. What must he think? But the black tom didn’t blink, his eyes clouded with grief as he stared at the trees. Pity jabbed at Thunder’s heart. He came here to find his father, but now he is truly alone among strangers.

  Tall Shadow straightened. The sun was an orange ball beyond the pines, silhouetting the dark trunks with fire. “We must bury her.”

  Sun Shadow jerked his muzzle toward her. “Where? This is not her home.”

  “Her kin are here.” Tall Shadow padded toward the young tom.

  Sun Shadow returned her gaze silently.

  Clear Sky lifted his chin. “She must be buried where we can all visit her grave.”

  Gray Wing nodded. “On shared territory.”

  “At the four trees?” Jagged Peak glanced at his brothers.

  “She would be close to those she once knew,” Tall Shadow murmured solemnly.

  Thunder pictured the battle grave. Now there would be another grave beside it. The grave of a cat who had died in peace, among those who had loved her. “I’ll help carry her there.”

  “Me too.” Jagged Peak stood up.

  Gray Wing got to his paws and stretched, wincing as his injured forepaw slipped on the slushy ground.

  Tall Shadow nodded to Mud Paws, who was washing in his nest. “Will you guard the camp while we’re gone?”

  Holly approached Jagged Peak. “Should we come with you?” She glanced at their kits, damp from playing in the snowmelt.

  Jagged Peak shook his head. “Stay here.”

  “I’ll come.” Pebble Heart padded from his den. “I should help bury her, since I failed to save her.”

  Gray Wing brushed against the young tom. “She was old,” he breathed. “It was her time.”

  Thunder straightened, realizing how stiff he was. He shook out his pelt, relieved to feel warmth flowing back into his paws and tail.

  Star Flower crossed the clearing and touched muzzles with Clear Sky. “River Ripple should be at her burial.”

  Clear Sky frowned. “Why?”

  “He is a leader, like you, Thunder, and Tall Shadow,” she meowed. “You are all petals of the same flower, remember?”

  “And Wind Runner,” Gray Wing added, thinking of the camp on the moor. “Although . . . we are still giving her space.”

  Clear Sky looked thoughtful. “You are right. We should leave Wind Runner in peace. But the rest of us should be together,” he mewed.

  “I will get River Ripple,” Star Flower told him.

  Thunder felt a sudden flash of gratitude toward the she-cat, but he noticed that Clear Sky’s pelt pricked uneasily.

  “It’s too far for you to travel,” he argued.

  Star Flower met his gaze. “Carrying kits does not weaken a cat; it makes her stronger.”

  “I’ll go with her.” Tall Shadow stepped forward.

  Thunder blinked in surprise at the warmth in her mew. And yet, why not? Hadn’t Star Flower been trying to make up for her betrayal in everything she did? She had not left Clear Sky’s side, she’d treated his mother with respect, and now she was offering to get River Ripple for the burial. Was it possible that she’d earned their trust at last?

  Clear Sky dipped his head. “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll meet you at the four trees.”

  Tall Shadow headed for the camp entrance, waiting at the bramble tunnel while Star Flower touched muzzles with Clear Sky.

  “Be careful,” he whispered.

  “I will.”

  As Star Flower turned and followed Tall Shadow from the camp, Jagged Peak leaned to push his muzzle beneath Quiet Rain. Thunder ducked to help, nosing the old she-cat’s body onto Jagged Peak’s shoulders and sliding in beside him. The first stiffness of death had left her, and she hung limp and cold between them.

  Clear Sky led the way out of camp, Gray Wing following with Pebble Heart and Sun Shadow.

  At the far edge of the forest, they paused.

  Monsters roared along the slush-covered Thunderpath, spraying filthy, half-melted snow in great waves over the side.

  “Wait here.” Clear Sky nodded to Thunder and crept out onto the grass. Through slitted eyes, he scanned the Thunderpath, ducking as another monster howled past. “There’s a gap coming.” He beckoned Thunder and Jagged Peak from the trees.

  Thunder stumbled on the uneven grass, and Gray Wing slid between him and Jagged Peak, putting his shoulders beneath his mother’s body.

  “Stay close together,” Clear Sky hissed.

  Eyes flashed toward them, streaking them with light as the monster thundered past.

  “Now!�
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  Thunder felt Clear Sky nudge him forward and hurried onto the slippery stone. He felt Gray Wing at one flank, Jagged Peak at the other. Together they carried Quiet Rain, stumbling to a halt as they reached the far side.

  Thunder frowned at Gray Wing’s wounded leg. Fresh blood was darkening the fur. “Can you manage?”

  “She’s not heavy,” Gray Wing grunted.

  Thunder caught his eye and saw grief glitter there. Quiet Rain had been half-starved when she died and weighed hardly more than a kit.

  “Come on,” Clear Sky urged from behind. “Let’s get into the forest and away from this place.” As he spoke, another monster thundered by, sending slush and grit spraying over them.

  Thunder padded forward, trying to keep in step with Gray Wing and Jagged Peak as the ground grew uneven beneath his paws. Roots crisscrossed the path and brambles snagged at his pelt. He tripped twice, feeling Quiet Rain jerk as he stumbled. He felt relieved when Clear Sky led them from the trees onto the smooth grass slope that led up to the rim of the four trees hollow.

  By the time they reached the top, Gray Wing was panting.

  “Let Sun Shadow take your place,” Thunder whispered.

  The black tom had been eyeing Quiet Rain’s body, distress showing each time Thunder stumbled or she began to slide from Jagged Peak’s shoulders.

  Gray Wing met Thunder’s gaze with weary eyes and slipped from beneath Quiet Rain. “Will you help?” he asked Sun Shadow softly.

  Sun Shadow dipped his head and slid in between Jagged Peak and Thunder.

  Thunder lifted his nose toward Clear Sky. He should have a chance to carry his mother to her final resting place. “Do you want to take over for me?”

  Clear Sky blinked at him gratefully, hurrying to take his place as Thunder slid from beneath her.

  He left them and bounded into the hollow, his paws sliding on the muddy slope. At the bottom, he stopped beside the battle grave. Snow covered the ground, sheltered from the warm winds and sunshine. He scratched at the earth, surprised to find it still frozen beneath his claws.

  How can we dig a grave here?