A Forest Divided

by Erin Hunter

  Padding quietly into the clearing, he glanced around.

  Shadows hid the edges. No cat stirred. They must already be in their nests. Should he head back to the moor and find a hollow to sleep in for the night?

  “Intruder!” A shriek sent surprise flashing through his chest. Claws raked his cheek, then pierced his pelt as a cat leaped onto his back.

  “Dust Muzzle! It’s me!” He recognized the kit’s scent and shook him off, wincing as the kit tore a lump of fur from his pelt.

  “Gray Wing?” Dust Muzzle stared at him through the darkness. “What are you doing here?”

  Heather rustled around him, and paw steps scuffed the grass.

  “Gray Wing?” Wind Runner crossed the clearing.

  Gorse Fur pushed past her. “Is everything okay?”

  Minnow and Reed hung back in the shadows, their eyes glinting in the gloom.

  “Everything’s fine,” Gray Wing told them. “But I can’t live in the pine forest anymore. I can hardly breathe there, and I need to feel the wind in my fur again.” He gazed hopefully at Wind Runner. Was she ready to take an old campmate into her new home?

  “Then you are welcome here.” Wind Runner purred loudly.

  Moth Flight bounded from her nest. “Is Gray Wing coming to live with us?” She bounced around him, her eyes shining.

  “Yes, I am.” Gray Wing cuffed the kit playfully with his paw.

  A warm smell touched his nose, making his heart speed up.

  “Gray Wing?” Slate slid from the heather and met his gaze. “Are you really coming to stay for good?” She padded closer until he could feel her breath on his muzzle.

  “Yes.”

  Dust Muzzle pushed between them. “Can you give me a badger ride?”

  Wind Runner rolled her eyes. “It’s time to sleep!” Starlight was glittering above them as the clouds eased away.

  “Oh, please!” Moth Flight stared desperately at her mother.

  “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?”

  CHAPTER 25

  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.
<
br />   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.”

  Clear Sky’s anger rose, roaring in his ears. “Star Flower is coming with me.” He reared, hissing, but Slash leaped back and grabbed Star Flower. Hooking his claws into her shoulders he hauled her to the ground and pinned her there. The tabby and the ginger tom crouched on either side, their teeth bared.

  Star Flower groaned, her eyes wild with terror.

  Clear Sky froze. How could he fight them off without Star Flower getting hurt?

  “That’s better,” Slash snarled. “It would be a shame to wound such a pretty cat . . . and with kits in her belly. The thought of harming them breaks my heart.” His whiskers twitched cruelly.

  The ginger tom hissed, his eyes gleaming. “Poor little kitties.”

  A chill ran along Clear Sky’s spine. He met Slash’s gaze, trying to hide the fear in his own. “What do you want?”

  “I told you,” Slash hissed. “Star Flower and I go back a long way. I was One Eye’s closest friend.”

  Anger sparked in Star Flower’s eyes. “Get off me!” She struggled, her paws slithering over the ground as Slash pushed her harder into the soggy leaves. “I never knew what One Eye saw in you!” she hissed. “You’re not fit to say his name.”

  Slash’s ear flattened. “Oh, really?” With a flick of his claws, he sliced her cheek. “Then why did you promise him that you would be my mate?”

  “That was a long time ago!” Star Flower struggled harder.

  Clear Sky felt panic rising as blood welled on her fur. He didn’t understand what was happening. He just wanted it to end. “Stop! Tell me why you’re here and what you want!”

  Slash turned his head slowly toward Clear Sky. He let go of Star Flower and stalked forward, his lip curling. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed you mountain cats recruiting all the strays you can find.” He tipped his head, his gaze menacing. “Why are you building such big groups? Everywhere we go now, we smell scent markers and see where you’ve been hunting.”

  “So?” Clear Sky tried not to look at Star Flower as she dabbed a paw at her cheek.

  “This territory used to be ours,” Slash snarled. “The strays caught prey and shared it with us. So we left them alone. Now they are part of your groups. They think they’re safe. They think they don’t need to share their catch with us anymore.” He glanced back at the toms. “We’re getting hungry, aren’t we?”

  “If you want prey, take prey!” Clear Sky growled. “There’s enough food in the forest to feed three extra mouths.”

  “But we’re not just three extra mouths.” Slash’s eyes narrowed to slits. “There are many of us. Rogues from the Twolegplace. Rogues from beyond the pines and the river. We’re more than you could ever imagine.”

  “Then why have we never seen you before?” Fear wormed in Clear Sky’s belly.

  “You never had to,” Slash snarled. “We only had to wander the edges of this land to collect enough prey. The strays who lived here knew how to keep us happy. They’d lay out fresh-kill for us to find. They’d leave the borders unhunted. There was no need to come looking for food here. But the strays hunt for you now. And we go hungry.” He eyed Clear Sky with menace. “Why did you mountain cats have to come and spoil everything?”

  “We were hungry,” Clear Sky told him.

  “That’s not good enough.” Slash paced around Star Flower, his sharp eyes flicking over her pelt. “We need to put things back the way they were.”

  “We’re not leaving!” Clear Sky hissed.

  “We’re not asking you to leave.” Slash paused beside Star Flower. Pushing his muzzle close to her injured cheek, he licked the blood from her fur with a long, lingering lap. “I just want to meet with the leaders of your groups so we can discuss how you might share your prey with us, like the strays used to.” He glanced up at the sky. The moon was high and bright. “Tomorrow night, at this same time, I want to meet all the leaders on the sunning rocks beside the river.”

  Clear Sky stared back at him. What kind of leader would obey these fox-hearts? “What if they don’t agree?”

  Slash’s tail flicked sharply behind him. “I will kill Star Flower.” He nodded to the tabby tom and padded away between the trees. The tabby grabbed Star Flower’s scruff between his teeth and dragged her after Slash. The ginger tom followed, snarling at Star Flower’s tail as her legs kicked in a futile attempt to free herself.

  Clear Sky’s thoughts tumbled over one another. Blood pulsed though his paws. He wanted to run after them and free Star Flower. But she might die.

  So might the kits!

  He felt sick.

  The bracken rustled behind him.

  He turned, fur bushing, as Quick Water slunk out.

  “Were you watching?” he gasped.

  She nodded, her gaze sharp.

  “Why didn’t you help?”

  “Two against four?” Quick Water narrowed her eyes.

  “Three against three!” Clear Sky hissed. “Star Flower would have fought beside us.”

  “Would she?” Quick Water looked unconvinced. “It sounded to me like she and Slash were pretty close once. And you remember how she betrayed us for her father. Why wouldn’t she betray us for her father’s friend, too?”

  Rage pulsed through Clear Sky. “Didn’t you see how he hurt her?”

  “It could have been part of the act.”

  Blood roaring in his ears, Clear Sky lashed out with his paw and raked Quick Water’s face. “Does that feel like an act?” he yowled.

  Quick Water ducked away as blood shone on her muzzle. She glanced at him resentfully. “Clawing me won’t make Star Flower loyal.”

  “She is loyal!” Clear Sky hissed. “More loyal than my own kin!”

  “Only you believe that.” Quick Water rubbed her nose with her paw. “Do you really think the other leaders are going to risk their pelts to save Star Flower? No cat will fight those mangy rogues to save a traitor, even if she is carrying your kits.”

  Clear Sky stared at the old she-cat. Where was her loyalty? Didn’t she realize these rogues weren’t just threatening Star Flower? They were threatening every cat! He pushed through the bracken, frustration burning in his pelt. Skirting the top of the mud bank, he barged past the bramble and stalked from the camp. The tops of the trees seemed aflame in the rising sun as he headed for the edge of the forest. Quick Water was wrong. The other cats would help. They weren’t mouse-brained old fleabags like she was. They’d realize the threat facing the
m.

  And they will fight for Star Flower.

  They had to! Even if Clear Sky had to force them to fight.

  No one threatens my kits and gets away with it.

  BONUS SCENE

  PROLOGUE

  Slate skidded to a halt, panting, and gazed around, her ears pricked. The moorland stretched away from her in all directions, the short, springy grass dotted with clumps of reeds, gorse bushes, and outcrops of rock. Nothing moved in all the landscape.

  “Cricket!” Slate yowled, her pelt prickling with worry. “Cricket, where are you?”

  There was no reply, no glimpse of her brother’s orange tabby fur.

  I thought he was right behind me. . . .

  Slate and her brother, Cricket, had been racing toward a big jutting boulder that reared up from the flat moorland in front of them. Slate had been winning, and when she’d glanced over her shoulder to see how close her brother was, he had vanished.

  It was stupid of me to get so far ahead, Slate thought. What if something happened to him? Cricket is always getting into mischief. There were foxes and badgers on the moors, she knew, not to mention those aggressive cats who had appeared out of nowhere a few seasons before and settled down in huge groups as if they owned the place. What if Cricket had run into them?

  Though they were littermates, Slate and Cricket were completely different cats. Slate had amber eyes and thick gray fur, quite unlike Cricket’s orange tabby pelt. Cricket was lighthearted, always joking and playing around, while Slate was more serious and liked to plan ahead.

  Once they had been part of a happy family. But the sickness that stalked the moor had taken their mother and their sister, leaving Slate and Cricket alone.

  We only have each other, Slate thought. I have to find him!

  “YAAAHHHHH!” Slate let out a terrified yowl as something heavy landed on her back and she felt four sets of claws digging into her pelt. Instinctively she hit the ground and rolled, sliding out her claws and bracing her muscles for a fight. But her attacker still clung on, and Slate heard bubbling mrrows of laughter coming from him.