Wildcat

by Rebecca Hutto

  Ember spat out the burnt stick. “I’m not a fox. Now eat this, please. It might help.”

  “Ember, look out! There’s a fox, and it’s going to eat me!”

  Boreal watched helplessly. Her neck felt so tight she could barely breathe. ‘I should tell him. But how? Why didn’t I tell him earlier? I should have. If he dies, I’ll never be able to tell him the truth. And I’ll never know if he’d never want to speak to me again. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. He trusted me, and I’ve betrayed that trust. I’m killing him. Please save him!’

  Cats peered out of their quarters, some watching, some glaring, and some genuinely concerned. His yowling made a few sleepy voices hiss for silence. Ember picked up the charcoal again, broke off a piece by wedging it between her paws, then shoved the smaller piece into his mouth. Sunshine rushed over to help hold it closed until he swallowed. “Are you sure this is safe?” she asked. “I’ve never tried giving someone burnt wood before. How do you know it will help?”

  “I don’t,” Ember replied, expression tight and grim. Hyrees swallowed. They released him. “But Thai said carbon can help absorb poison, and burnt wood contains carbon. I hope it’ll help.”

  “Bleh! What was that?” Hyrees said. “Who was that? Fox—the fox is still here! It’s getting closer. Kill it!” He backed up a few steps, ears pinned to his head and eyes wide with terror.

  Boreal sighed. Something inside her felt ready to burst. The fear and guilt caught her up and almost made her want to cry. ‘Why couldn’t I have told him during our talk? No, never mind, that would’ve been bad. He said talking with him helped. It wouldn’t have if I’d told him how I more or less caused almost every bad thing that’s happened to him. He might have already died if I’d done that.’

  “Poor thing,” Sunshine whispered to Ember. She lifted her deformed paw to her muzzle. “He’s still hallucinating. Those were a lot of berries he ate. He might not make it. I just . . . wanted to tell you now so you don’t get your hopes up. And even if his health recovers—”

  “Fox!” he repeated. Then collapsed.

  Boreal’s chest felt like it was about to explode. She wanted to run somewhere far away and pretend it wasn’t happening. ‘But it is happening. I did this. I did this to him. I killed him. I sentenced him to die. I killed another cat!’

  Ember leaned closer and pawed at his side. “Oh no. No. No! Come on! Wake up; you have to wake up! Why is no one answering? Thai, is there anyone we haven’t tried?”

  “Ember, you have tried calling everyone in your contacts list.” A strange, oddly stiff voice replied. Boreal had heard it a few times, but never this clearly or closely. “Hye is probably asleep, and you already know Michelle and Matthew have not been answering your calls for several days. Not to mention we seem to be far from any known roadways. According to my calculations, no human can reach us on foot fast enough to help.”

  “But . . .” She stared at nothing, breathing hard.

  Sunshine placed her paw on Ember’s shoulder. “Calm down. He’s still breathing. He’s still got a chance. I gave him some plants to make him sleep. It doesn’t usually take effect this quickly, but it should give him some time to rest and recover.”

  “I believe he’ll make it,” Crow said. As he walked over to them, faint rays of moonlight caught his pelt, making the little white spots and patches covering him shimmer like stars. “I’ve been a healer for eighteen winters. I’ve seen cats far worse off than him make full recoveries. Full or at least partial, but the important thing is he has a chance. Now let’s get him into his quarters. I don’t imagine any of you intending to leave him here.”

  Boreal got up, still sick to her stomach, and offered to help carry him. Together, the four cats pushed and pulled until he rested comfortably in his quarters. By the time they were done, Ember was crying.

  ‘I did this to him, and to you,’ Boreal thought again, this time trying to reach her without speaking the words out loud. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry—please forgive me.’ She gave up and looked away. ‘What if Father was right all along?’

  Stupid, incompetent, worthless—the words bounced around inside her head. She retreated to her quarters and lay down beside her pile of carved sticks. For a brief moment, she considered shoving the pile into the abyss beyond her tunnel out of frustration. She decided against it. Potentially destroying the only thing she was proud of would make her feel worse. Boreal rolled onto her back and covered her eyes with her paws. ‘Why didn’t I tell him?’

  When she got up, the stars had changed positions. Everything was quiet. Even Ember’s gentle sobbing had faded away. Her paws were too restless to sleep, so she walked to the edge of the Rift and watched the stars.

  “Oh, wonderful, now I’ve got someone to stay awake with.”

  Boreal whipped her head around to find Echo trotting up to her. “Was that sarcasm or a genuine statement?” she asked.

  Echo thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. It felt like something I was meant to say, so I said it.”

  “Oh. So does Shard know? About Hyrees?”

  “He came to visit while you were in your quarters. He wasn’t exactly being quiet, either.”

  “Oh, right,” she said. “How’s he taking it then?”

  Echo sighed. “He’s messed up about it all, that’s for sure. He already worries a lot. He doesn’t need any of this extra stuff to bother with. I’m starting to worry his worrying will be the death of him.” She turned to look at her. “You haven’t told them yet, have you?”

  Boreal tensed. Another rush of adrenaline hit her bloodstream. “Ah. No—don’t tell Ember. I’ll try to do it myself when I can.”

  “Don’t jump the ridge,” Echo growled. “I’m not a gossip, I just listen to a lot of it. I was only wondering.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  Overhead, stars flickered in the cloudless sky. One of them fell out of place and left a tiny trail in its wake as it so suddenly and gracefully died.

  “So why are you up? You work the day shift, don’t you?” Boreal heard herself ask. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why did I ask that? I don’t care. I don’t even know her all that well.’

  “Yes, I work days. You may not know this, but I’m actually a terrible sleeper. I’ve had to fend off nightmares as long as I can remember. For a while I was able to actually get good sleep, but they came back some time not long before the fight, and they’ve only gotten worse ever since. Now I have them almost every night. That’s why I’m awake. I don’t want to go to sleep. I guess you could say I’m . . . scared.”

  ‘So she has nightmares too? I guess witnessing the bloodiest battle in all colony history can do that to someone. Will I keep having nightmares for the rest my life too? What if Hyrees dies? Will I ever get that out of my conscience? Wait—’ “Why are you telling me this?”

  Echo smiled faintly. “Because even if you decide to tell someone, no one will believe you, and even if someone did, I’ve decided opinions no longer matter to me. There’s not a lot left that still matters to me, really. But I’ve still got Shard, so I guess most of what’s happened has been worth it. More or less.” She sighed again. “I just hope it continues to be worth it,” she said under her breath.

  “Hmm?” Boreal asked.

  “Nothing. We should go to sleep. Tomorrow will be an interesting day. One I can’t honestly say I’m looking forward to, but at least it’ll be one step closer to getting this bloody mess over with.”

  ‘Oh, right, Father’s coming home.’ She stood up and glanced back at the quarters. Ember and Hyrees were both still asleep. “Yep,” she said. “Goodnight, I suppose?”

  “Probably not,” Echo replied.

  Without another word, Echo loped away toward her den with Shard and Jade. Boreal went back to her own quarters. She lay down beside her sticks, then tossed and turned until all her fears and doubts faded into nothing. At last she drifted into a fitful yet dreamless sleep.

  ———

  “Healer! We need a
healer now!”

  Boreal’s eyes fluttered open. Immediately a sense of dread came over her. She closed them again.

  Someone pawed at her shoulder. “Wake up!”

  “Mff?” she mumbled. She looked up to find Ember staring at something in the Rift or just outside it. “Ember? W-what? Is Hyrees . . .”

  “No, he’s still asleep,” Ember replied. “Boreal, it’s Eclan. He’s come back.”

  She leaped to her paws, causing Ember to jump backward. “Great! Good. Where’s Father? I need to speak with him.”

  Ember grimaced and bit the tip of her tongue, which stuck out of her mouth almost menacingly. Boreal’s heart sank in her chest.

  “I-I don’t know,” Ember said.

  She shoved past Ember and broke into a run. Her eyes locked onto the all-too-familiar black and white pelt of Eclan. Black, white and . . . red? She slid to a stop. The rogue was covered from nose to tail with recently scabbed bites and scratches. Shard and another healer raced back and forth between him and the cave, gathering supplies to treat him where he sat.

  “What happened, Eclan?” Jade asked. Her usually stoic eyes looked damp and ready to cry. “Where are Falcon and the others?”

  “I’m sorry, Jade,” he said. “I tried to save them, but . . . they’re all dead.”

  The world stopped.

  “Father,” Boreal whispered.

  “How can they be dead?” Jade asked. “They were on a peace mission. They went to stop the fighting! How do I know you’re telling the truth, you insolent rogue?”

  ‘No. No, this isn’t happening.’ She took a few steps back, letting the words sink in. Dead. Falcon was dead. Her father was gone.

  “I barely escaped with my own life. If it weren’t for my sense ’a respect for you, Commander, I would’ve gone home and licked my wounds. But I didn’t; I came here, risking everything, because you deserve to know what happened to your cats.”

  “Then tell me what happened, Eclan.”

  He lifted his head and growled, “Them foxing Westerners killed them.”

  Chapter 30

  Ember

  ‘Come on, Hyrees. Please wake up. Please. Don’t leave me here like this. Not now.’ Ember groomed Hyrees’s forehead. She mewed soft gibberish to herself. Somewhere in the Rift, Jade yowled. Ember couldn’t make out any words, but the Eastern commander sounded upset. She swallowed hard. “Sorry, I have to go,” she whispered. “Whatever happened to Falcon and the guards, I think it might end up being bad for us. I mean, obviously it’s no good for Boreal, but if Eclan was right, and we do get blamed—wait, Eclan seemed to know this was going to happen. That’s . . . mildly suspicious. Don’t you think? Hyrees? This is the part where you wake up and agree with me. You’re only pretending to be asleep, right? I know you can hear me. Come on.”

  Jade shouted again. Ember bit her tongue and fought back tears. ‘He’s not waking up. He may never wake up. Why did you do this, Hyrees? I thought everything was going so well.’ She sniffled as a single teardrop trickled into her fur. Sunshine’s words repeated themselves in her mind. ‘He might not make it. Might not. Might not. What am I going to do? Ember, go find out what happened. He won’t go anywhere. If Falcon is dead . . .’

  She licked him one last time, drew a deep, anxiety-ridden breath, then walked toward the commotion.

  “Then tell me what happened, Eclan,” Jade said as she approached the frantic group of cats.

  “Them foxing Westerners killed them,” Eclan replied.

  Ember froze mid-step. ‘Oh. Oh no.’ The fur along her spine raised. Pinpricks of icy pain dug into the back of her head. ‘This is bad. Why did I suggest that? Why did I even—you knew you weren’t thinking straight! Why did you even open your mouth? Of all the fluffheaded—’

  “What do you mean?” Jade asked.

  “We were ambushed,” he said. “They took us by surprise. I’d injured my paw a little n’ fallen behind right before it happened. Falcon, brave tom he was, took the lead in my place. As we approached the territory, they jumped out from the trees. Took Falcon out almost immediately. He had no time to react at all. None of us did. By the time we realized what had happened, they’d already started attacking the rest of us. Me, being farther back, had more time to escape. The other two weren’t so lucky. They fought well, but it happened too fast. It was the three of us against five well-rested Westerners. I’m a lucky tom to even be alive right now.”

  Ember lowered her paw. Grey fog choked her head. ‘Uh oh.’

  “It’s the freak’s fault!” one cat yowled. “She did this on purpose! She sent them to their dea—”

  “We never should have trusted them. All Westerners are coyotes,” another said, cutting her off.

  “You can’t trust a one of ’em, I tell you!” snapped an older tomcat. “I’d ’a thought you’d learned your lesson, Jade. These two—no, three times they’ve attacked us unprovoked. How much will it take for you to realize this is a problem we need to take action against?”

  “Calm down, all of you!” Jade said. The cats around her fell silent, but the tension remained. “Shard, take Eclan to the cave. No need for all this running around. You’ll only get in the way. As for the rest of you, go gather the colony. I’m calling a meeting, and I want everyone capable of coming present. You especially, Ember. In fact, I would like for you to remain at my side for the entirety of the meeting, starting now.”

  Ember shook herself out of her daze. “Uh, yes, y-yes ma’am.”

  “Come,” Jade said.

  Ember obeyed. They padded toward Jade’s den and announcement rock. As they walked, Ember tried to put together some form of apology that didn’t sound suspicious. ‘I didn’t know about the ambush? Nope. Sounds like I was sent here on purpose. I didn’t mean for this to happen? No, that could easily be taken out of context.’

  “Why did y’all listen to me?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” Jade said.

  “I didn’t even have time to think about what I was saying. You yourself said I wasn’t in any state to give any kind of input on something that important. And even then I was going to take it back, but he seemed so excited, and I thought it might work, so I let it go without protest. I was wrong. This is my fault. I’ll accept whatever punishment you decide to give me, but please don’t hurt Hyrees. He had nothing to do with it.”

  “What do you make of the ambush, then?” Jade asked. “It would seem the West knew they were coming.”

  Jade’s tail twitched with each step she took. Ember tried to focus on its black tip to keep from getting distracted. “I don’t know. I think I might have been used. I doubted it at first, but your theory about Lupine might be right. He has some connections with outsiders through Whitehaze, his mentor, and possibly Eclan. Farlight saw Eclan talking with Whitehaze, and that’s what got him killed. I’m starting to wonder if Eclan might be the one connecting all this and helping Lupine make everything go the way he wants. Or maybe even someone else in the West. There are some fairly power-hungry cats there. Especially in the Western council. I don’t know. Maybe Eclan is lying.”

  “Eclan has been the East’s faithful messenger since my mate commanded. He is almost what I would call a friend. Falcon, on multiple occasions did indeed call him a friend. Falcon himself asked that he go because of this. He trusted that rogue more than he trusted the guards. Your kitten friend was mistaken.”

  Ember flattened her ears. Dull yellow, like an old bear’s fangs, flared in her mind. The burst of anger made her head feverish and tense. “Farlight is dead,” she growled. “Eclan is the only cat I know with any kind of connection to both colonies. He himself told me before he left that I should come with him because if something bad happened I would probably get blamed. To me that sounds like he knew this would happen. We have to at least consider—”

  “That is enough, Ember,” Jade snapped.

  Ember winced, cowering beneath her glare. ‘Oh. She’s crying. Tahg, she really is upset.’

 
Jade sighed, then continued, “While I admit I found it odd at first that Eclan is the only survivor, I can understand how it would happen. I snapped at him out of anger, but it is not his fault any more than I believe it to be yours. Do not speak again until the meeting is over, or else I’ll let my colony have its way with both you and Hyrees.”

  Silver and bright green melded with the yellows inside of her. She clamped her teeth over her tongue, remembering the words of the vengeful Easterners. ‘Okay. Don’t do anything stupid, Ember. Don’t be a fluffhead. Keep your mouth closed. Mouth closed. Keep it. Don’t die. Please. Hyrees.’ The yellow became mottled with creamy white. ‘Wait, how could you intentionally overlook something like this? The things I said are facts. What you said, well, they’re mostly facts too, but how much you trust someone only determines how much control they have over you. I could say and do things to gain your trust. I did. And while I didn’t mean for this to happen, this is where listening to me got you—with a dead advisor. I don’t get how you, of all cats, can keep trusting him so blindly like this. Not after everything that’s happened. Hum. I wish I could’ve said that out loud, but tahg, I’d be in so much trouble.’

  Jade climbed up her rocks. Ember followed, head and tail low, and tried to sit far enough back that cats might not notice her.

  The colony gathered beneath them. When enough cats showed up, Jade began, “For those of you who were not present when my messenger returned this morning, I have some terrible news. The cats I have sent to make peace are dead. Eclan is the only survivor.”

  Cries of anger and anguish rose to a roar. Ember flattened her ears.

  “Quiet down, please. Everyone. I would like to apologize. This is, in part, my fault. I knew the risks, but I still sent them to their deaths. I—” Her voice broke into a sob. “Excuse me.”

  Jade climbed down her rock far enough to be hidden from the crowd, sat down, hunched over, and cried. Ember looked at her paws, trying to give her privacy. When Jade had cried out the last of her tears, she straightened herself up, groomed the moisture from her eyes, then climbed back up to face her colony.