The Sun Trail

by Erin Hunter

  “I’m staying,” Gray Wing told her, touching her ear with his nose. “This is my home. I want to catch enough prey so that the rest of us can survive. Many moons ago, our ancestors left the lake and came here. I can’t believe that was for no reason.”

  Quiet Rain rested her muzzle on the top of his head. “I’m so proud of you,” she murmured. For a few heartbeats Gray Wing felt the same sense of comfort and security as when he was a small kit, suckling at his mother’s belly.

  Stooping over the sleeping hollow, Quiet Rain licked Fluttering Bird’s shoulder. “Wake up, little one,” she mewed. “I’ve got some food for you.”

  A sharp pang of anxiety stabbed through Gray Wing as he looked at Fluttering Bird; she hardly seemed to be breathing.

  “Fluttering Bird!” Quiet Rain prodded her with one forepaw, but the kit still didn’t wake. “Gray Wing, fetch Stoneteller,” his mother said, panic in her voice.

  Gray Wing sped off across the cave and plunged down the tunnel that led into the Cavern of the Pointed Stones. He had only been there once before, and he slowed as he reached the entrance, overcome by awe in spite of his urgency.

  Creeping into the cave, he saw narrow beams of sunlight slanting through the hole in the roof, lighting the columns of stone that stretched upward for many tail-lengths. Pools on the ground reflected the sunlight, and the huge hollow space was filled with the sound of steadily dripping water.

  At first Gray Wing couldn’t see Stoneteller. Then he spotted her sitting in the shadows, her tail wrapped around her paws and her eyes closed.

  Is she asleep? he wondered as he approached.

  But as he drew closer, Stoneteller opened her eyes. “Gray Wing—is something wrong?” she mewed.

  “It’s Fluttering Bird,” Gray Wing explained, his heart beating fast. “She won’t wake up.”

  At once Stoneteller rose to her paws. Turning to a crack in the rock, she took out a few shriveled leaves. Gray Wing caught a glimpse of her pitifully small store, and knew there would be no more healing herbs until the snow melted and warmer weather brought new growth.

  He followed Stoneteller to where Fluttering Bird lay. Quiet Rain stood beside her, flexing her claws impatiently. Looking into her eyes, Gray Wing saw how desperate she was, already sick with grief for her daughter.

  Stoneteller bent over the tiny kit and rested one paw on her chest to feel her breathing and her heartbeat. Chewing up one of the leaves, Stoneteller pried open the kit’s jaws and pushed the pulp onto her tongue. “Come along, little one,” she murmured. “Swallow this. It will make you feel better.”

  But Fluttering Bird stayed still. She didn’t even open her eyes.

  Looking up at Quiet Rain, Stoneteller whispered, “She is far, far away from us. The hunger inside her is too great. You must prepare yourself, Quiet Rain.”

  Gray Wing’s mother crouched down, her claws scraping on the stone floor of the cave. “This is my fault,” she mewed. “I should have given her all my food. What was I thinking, having kits in the cold season?”

  His heart swelling with grief, Gray Wing padded over to Quiet Rain and pressed himself close to her. “It isn’t your fault,” he mewed.

  “I should have—”

  Stoneteller interrupted Quiet Rain with a raised paw. “Hush, Quiet Rain. Fluttering Bird might be able to hear you. Don’t let her go into the dark knowing that you’re scared and angry.”

  Gray Wing could see the massive effort his mother made to calm herself. She slid into the sleeping hollow and curled herself around Fluttering Bird, giving her comforting licks. “I’m so proud of you, my only daughter,” she murmured. “You mean so much to all of us. We will never forget you.”

  Misery swept over Gray Wing as he watched. His sister’s flank rose once more, and then was still. “Good-bye, Fluttering Bird,” he whispered.

  Stoneteller dipped her head to Quiet Rain and padded away toward her tunnel.

  Gray Wing turned back to his mother. “Do you want me to help you take Fluttering Bird outside and bury her?” he asked.

  Quiet Rain curled herself more closely around her daughter’s body. “Not while her fur is still warm,” she replied. “Please, go and fetch Jagged Peak for me.”

  Gray Wing glanced around and spotted Jagged Peak at the far side of the cave, playing with some of the other kits. He raced over and beckoned his brother with a flick of his tail.

  “What is it?” Jagged Peak asked, looking up from where he was wrestling with a tabby she-cat.

  “Our mother wants you,” Gray Wing replied.

  Jagged Peak scrambled to his paws and trotted across the cavern to the sleeping hollow. Quiet Rain spoke quietly to Jagged Peak; he stared at her, then opened his jaws in a shrill wail.

  Quiet Rain stretched out her tail and pulled Jagged Peak to her. Pain stabbed through Gray Wing like a spike of icy rock as he watched her holding both her kits close, one dead and one alive, her nose buried in their fur.

  He wondered if she would ever let Jagged Peak go again.

  Gray Wing turned toward the cave entrance at the sound of voices, and saw Shaded Moss returning with Clear Sky and the others who had gone to look for a route away from the mountains.

  “It was great!” Clear Sky shook himself, scattering melting snow everywhere. “We’ve found the path we should take.”

  “It runs along the side of the valley,” Shaded Moss meowed, sounding more cautious. “It leads to a gap that should take us clear of the mountains. There’s a frozen stream at one point that we’ll have to cross, and we’ll need to be careful.”

  “But it’s still the quickest route!” Turtle Tail interrupted with an enthusiastic wave of her tail.

  “It looks like it,” Shaded Moss agreed, “and with any luck we’ll avoid the drifts farther down.”

  While the other cats crowded around to question Shaded Moss, Gray Wing padded up and touched Clear Sky on his shoulder with his tail-tip. Clear Sky glanced around, spotting Quiet Rain in her sleeping hollow with the two kits. His eyes widened.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Fluttering Bird is dead,” Gray Wing told him.

  Clear Sky paused for a heartbeat with a sharp indrawn breath, then bounded across the cave to his mother’s side. Gray Wing padded after him more slowly.

  “I’m so sorry!” Clear Sky exclaimed, bending his head to touch his nose to his sister’s ear. “Fluttering Bird, we’ll miss you so much!” Straightening up, he looked down at his mother and added, “This will never happen when we reach our new home. If you join us, I’ll protect you and hunt for you for the rest of my life. Please come.”

  Quiet Rain shook her head. “I will never leave my daughter here alone.”

  Rising from the sleeping hollow, she allowed Gray Wing and Clear Sky to pick up Fluttering Bird’s tiny, twiglike body and carry her out of the cave. The other cats fell back and formed a respectful line on either side as they headed for the entrance and along the ledge that led behind the waterfall.

  Quiet Rain and Jagged Peak followed as they maneuvered Fluttering Bird’s body along the narrow path. Drops of water landed on her fur. Gray Wing winced when he realized that she would never be able to lick them off.

  Climbing carefully over the icy rocks, they made their way to the plateau above the cave and set Fluttering Bird down beside the river. Gray Wing and Clear Sky scraped away small stones and frozen soil to make a shallow hole, and Quiet Rain laid the tiny kit inside. She touched her nose to her daughter’s fur one last time, then stepped back while her sons covered the body with earth and larger stones. For a moment all four cats stood beside the grave, their heads bowed.

  Jagged Peak was the first to move, turning around to stare in amazement at the vista of mountains that stretched away on all sides. His eyes were huge and his fur bushed out; he looked tiny against the boulders.

  “Have you been to all those peaks?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  “Not all of them.” Clear Sky moved to stand beside him,
pointing with his tail. “There’s the gap in the mountains we’ll be aiming for when we leave.”

  Jagged Peak’s eyes grew even wider. “I wish I was coming too,” he meowed.

  “Don’t talk nonsense, little one.” Quiet Rain padded up and laid her tail across the kit’s back. “You’ve been out long enough for your first time. Back to the cave with you.”

  “But I don’t want to go back inside!” Jagged Peak protested. “There’s too much to see.”

  Clear Sky gave his younger brother a friendly nudge. “You can see it another day. The mountains don’t move. Now show us how well you can climb down the rocks.”

  Still grumbling, Jagged Peak followed his brother.

  Gray Wing stood for a moment at the cliff’s edge, gazing out at the cold sweep of the mountains. Rage was slowly building inside him like a storm cloud. How could such a beautiful place be so cruel? But the sharpest edge of his anger was directed at himself.

  I should have caught more prey. I shouldn’t have let Fluttering Bird starve.

  He became aware that Quiet Rain had come to stand beside him. “This is a cruel place,” she sighed, echoing his thoughts, “but it’s my home, for better or worse.”

  “I won’t let this happen again,” Gray Wing meowed, his voice rough with grief and fury. “There must be better ways of hunting. We—”

  “You have to leave,” Quiet Rain interrupted. “Jagged Peak is too small for such a journey, but you must go with Clear Sky to find a better place to live. I don’t want to have to watch your kits die, too.”

  Gray Wing stared at her, astounded. “But I thought you wanted me to stay!” he exclaimed.

  Quiet Rain gazed back at him steadily, her eyes full of sorrow. “I love you too much for that,” she mewed. “For my sake, go.”

  Dawn light had begun to filter through the screen of falling water, though shadows still lay deep at the sides of the cave. Gray Wing hauled himself out of his sleeping hollow and spotted Shaded Moss huddled with Clear Sky and the other cats who wanted to leave. The group was larger than before.

  Their heads turned toward Gray Wing as he padded over to join them; there was surprise in their eyes.

  “You’ve changed your mind?” Clear Sky asked, blinking hopefully.

  Gray Wing dipped his head. “I’m thinking about it,” he responded reluctantly.

  Turtle Tail came to sit by his side. “I’m so pleased you’re coming with us,” she purred, her eyes shining.

  “It’s not long now before we leave,” Shaded Moss meowed, his gaze traveling over each cat in turn. “All of you should rest up and eat as much as you can.”

  “Lying around while others hunt for us?” Dappled Pelt objected. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Shaded Moss flicked his tail impatiently. “It’s only for a day or two,” he pointed out. “And once we leave, the others will have enough prey to go around. But if we don’t have our full strength before we set out—”

  A screech from the other side of the cave interrupted him. Gray Wing looked around to see Dewy Leaf charging toward them across the cavern. The tortoiseshell queen halted in front of Moon Shadow, her legs stiff with fury and her neck fur bristling.

  “What are you doing, skulking around over here?” she demanded. “I’m going to have your kits! You promised that you’d stay with me!”

  “Uh-oh . . . trouble,” Turtle Tail breathed into Gray Wing’s ear.

  Moon Shadow flinched backward. “There isn’t enough food,” he explained awkwardly. “Our kits will be better off if there are fewer mouths to feed.”

  Dewy Leaf bared her teeth in a snarl. “And who’s going to catch prey while I’m still nursing them?”

  Hearing her complaints, other cats hurried over to find out what was going on.

  “She has a point,” Twisted Branch meowed, glaring at Moon Shadow. “Cats with responsibilities should stay here.”

  “Are you saying we’re irresponsible to leave?” Tall Shadow snapped back at him.

  “Yeah.” Shattered Ice sprang to his paws to stand beside the black she-cat, his green eyes narrowed. “We’re going off into the unknown, into danger, to make a better home for you and the other cats who stay here. You don’t have to do anything!”

  Sharp Hail thrust himself forward, his tail lashing. “No—just sit here and starve!”

  In the midst of the commotion, Gray Wing noticed Bright Stream hanging back, not part of either group and not joining in the argument.

  Has she really made up her mind to leave with Clear Sky? he asked himself. She doesn’t look as if she knows what she wants. His heart ached for her, and for Fluttering Bird, and for all his Tribemates who seemed ready to fight with claws and teeth over the future.

  “Enough!” The voice came from the back of the cave, not loud, but with such authority that it cut through all the wrangling. The cats fell silent, parting as Stoneteller limped into the center of the group. “I can’t bear to see you squabbling like this,” she continued. “My vision promised something better for those cats willing to go in search of it. But I could be wrong.” She shook her head, clearly wracked with uncertainty. “Perhaps we should forget about finding somewhere else to live. . . .”

  As she was speaking, Lion’s Roar came up behind her and stood close to her side. Bending his head, he spoke into her ear; though his voice was low, Gray Wing managed to make out the words.

  “Don’t lose faith in what you saw.” Addressing all the cats, he went on, “My mother told me that before she and the others left the lake, they held a vote to decide their shared future. Why don’t we vote again now?” he suggested. “If most cats want us to stay here and take a chance with the rest of the cold season, then Shaded Moss won’t leave. What do you think, Stoneteller?”

  The old white she-cat blinked thoughtfully, then turned to Shaded Moss. “Would you accept the result of a vote?” she asked.

  Shaded Moss nodded. “I don’t want to go without enough cats to stand a chance of surviving the journey.”

  Stoneteller glanced around at the other cats. Gray Wing could see that their anger was dying down. “Gray Wing, Bright Stream,” the Healer mewed, “please collect as many stones as there are cats.”

  “Even me?” Jagged Peak squeaked, with an excited bounce.

  Quiet Rain stretched out her tail to caress her son’s ear. “No, not the kits—” she began.

  “Even the kits,” Stoneteller interrupted gently. “Every cat will have a chance to be heard. We are still one community, friends and kin over seasons upon seasons. We must all have a part in deciding our future.”

  Dipping his head to Stoneteller, Gray Wing headed out of the cave with Bright Stream. They found a scatter of small stones not far from the waterfall, under an overhang, and began to roll them together into a heap.

  “Quiet Rain wants me to leave,” he told Bright Stream after a moment.

  Bright Stream’s eyes widened and her ears flicked up in surprise. “I’d have thought she would want you and Clear Sky to stay now.”

  Gray Wing shook his head. “She believes we stand a better chance of survival in the place that Stoneteller has seen.”

  Bright Stream added another stone to the pile before she responded. “Are you going to go?” she asked hesitantly.

  “I don’t know.” Gray Wing found himself giving voice to his inward struggle. “The way Fluttering Bird died showed me how vulnerable we are here in the mountains. But . . . is it cowardly to run away?”

  “No cat could think that you’re a coward, Gray Wing,” Bright Stream told him.

  When they had collected enough stones, they carried them back into the cave, a few at a time. Shaded Moss and Tall Shadow gathered the pebbles into a pile at Stoneteller’s paws, their gaze solemn with the importance of their task.

  “Now,” Stoneteller meowed, “every cat must take a stone. Place it on the waterfall side of the cave if you think Shaded Moss and all the cats who want to go should leave the mountains, and on the i
nner cave wall if you think they should stay. Shaded Moss, you go first.”

  Shaded Moss stepped forward and dipped his head to Stoneteller with deep respect. “I trust you with my life,” he told her. “If you have seen a better place for some of us to live, I promise I will find it.”

  Taking a stone in his jaws, he carried it to the waterfall side of the cave and laid it down so close to the cascade that drops of sparkling water splashed over it.

  Meanwhile the rest of the Tribe lined up for their turn to vote. Jagged Peak scraped his claws along the cave floor as if he was too excited to wait.

  Lion’s Roar was the next cat to pick up a pebble, and he laid it down near the waterfall. “My old bones won’t carry me on the journey,” he rasped. “But if I were young enough, I’d leave.”

  Snow Hare and Misty Water followed, both voting for the cats to stay. Clear Sky came next, in a little group with Dappled Pelt and Turtle Tail, all of them taking their stones to the waterfall side. Then Jagged Peak bounced up to the pile of stones and took one, carefully carrying it over to set it down beside his brother’s.

  Quiet Rain shook her head. “My beloved son, I can’t allow you to leave. But the older cats should have the chance to go.” She took her stone and laid it by the waterfall beside her kits’.

  Jagged Peak’s eyes sparkled rebelliously as he stomped toward the sleeping hollows, his tail high in the air.

  Bright Stream was the next cat to take a stone. Without hesitation she placed it with the others beside the waterfall.

  Clear Sky’s fur fluffed out with surprise as he watched her, a look of warm affection creeping into his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered as she joined him, standing so close that their pelts were brushing.

  “I did it for all our future kits,” she responded.

  Gray Wing realized that his turn to vote had come. He felt a hard jolt in his belly, as if a falling rock had struck him. I can’t put off my decision any longer.

  Looking around, he noticed afresh the jutting bones of his companions, their dull eyes, their air of exhaustion. At last he met his mother’s gaze, and saw her eyes full of pleading. He knew that she believed his future safety lay in leaving the cave.