‘Dad was most fit,’ Ember thought. Her vision blurred again as more tears threatened to fall. ‘But he’s not an option anymore. Who is?’
Several cats mentioned names that faded into background noise. Ember recognized a few belonging to former council members, but no one seemed to agree on anything. Most of the cats being suggested turned down the idea immediately. Ember sighed. ‘Are there any leaders here at all?’
“I have a suggestion,” Kivyress called out, startling Ember.
“Then say it, Kivyress,” Jade replied.
“What about Mom?”
Songbird shrunk back, eyes wide and tail thrashing. “I, uh, I don’t know about that.”
“Wait, hear me out,” Kivyress said. “Half of you probably don’t know this, but Mom was the one D—” Her voice broke. She started to cry. “Dad went to for advice. So, if he would’ve . . . you know, made a good commander, I think she probably will too. She . . . she did help back when we had meetings. Or at least that’s what everyone says. And she’s pretty much been running the colony anyway, organizing a hunt and giving out rations.”
“She has a point,” one Westerner said, “but Songbird is a molly. We’ve only ever had toms command. Besides, she just lost her mate. She’s probably too emotionally unstable.”
“She’d be better than you,” the cat beside him snapped. “Maybe it’s time for things to change around here.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Kivyress whispered, leaning closer to Songbird. “I-I really thought it was a good idea, but . . .”
“All in favor of Songbird, stand,” Jade called.
Cats, both Western and Eastern, got to their paws. Ember hesitated a moment, then stood with them. Nearly half of the colony was unanimous, including, to Ember’s surprise, Silentstream.
“Songbird?” Jade asked. “Would you be willing to take on the role of commander and to lead the New West through whatever may come during the time of your leadership?”
For a while, she didn’t respond. Then, slowly, she stood and lifted her head. A single tear rolled down her face and got absorbed by her fur. “Cloud didn’t abandon his kin when they needed him most. I guess I’ll try my best to continue that legacy. Jade, you already know how to leader. Ah, how to be a leader. Will you be my advisor and show me how to best help this colony?”
Jade smiled. “If you trust me with such a role, yes, I will. Now come up, Commander Songbird. Choose your council and address your colony.”
Songbird walked quietly around the outskirts of the meeting. She climbed up the commander’s den and looked at Jade. “Who are the three cats you trust the most? I’ve never led before, so I want experienced council members from both colonies.”
Jade listed three names Ember didn’t recognize. Songbird called them to sit in front of her. A tabby tom, a sable tom, and a pointed molly took their places beneath the den.
Jade peered down at the tabby. “Kite may be young, but he is smart and capable. An excellent tactician. He may make a good commander one day, if you are willing to train him.”
She shifted her attention to the sable: an older, dark grey cat with a creamy ruff and a white stripe lining his underside. “Thunder has been a trusted council member of the East for many winters. More winters than I’ve been alive. He is wise and a voice of reason I should have listened to more often. He stayed behind when we chose to fight but did not hesitate to bring the Eastern remnants across the Lowlands when they decided to come here.”
She looked at the molly, a creamy cat with silver tabby markings on her face, legs and tail. She looked about the same age as Jade. “Brook is my sister-in-law. She is strong-willed and a touch eccentric, but also clever and creative. She’s excellent at problem-solving and seeing things from new angles. These three will advise you well, as they advised me. Now you may choose three cats from your own colony.”
Songbird sucked in a deep breath, then breathed it out slowly. “Fern, you’re my older sister, and I’ve always looked up to you. You’ve always been there for me when things got bad. Now I think I need your wit and reasoning more than ever before. Will you help me?”
Ember craned her neck around to look at where Fern sat a leap away. Fledge was beside her, smiling as usual. “I told you things would get better,” Fledge mewed, nuzzling her side. “Now go, get out of here. You can do this.”
“Thanks,” Fern replied. They touched foreheads, then Fern made her way to the front. “I’m with you, Song, and I know we can do this.”
“Thank you,” Songbird said. Then she called up Trout, an old silver smoke tom with a reputation for being level-headed; and Redwater, a sable tom with piercing orange eyes and a calm, intelligent demeanor. Both were members the former Western council, and both were well-liked.
‘This is good,’ Ember thought. The tears she’d been fighting with escaped. She stared blankly at the ground to hide them, not looking at anything in particular. ‘Members from both of the councils. That should make most cats happy. Tahg, Mom really is the commander now. Dad would like that. He’d like this. He’d want to see this.’
“A new council has been chosen,” Jade declared. “The East and West are now united under one leader: Commander Songbird. For Songbird and the New West!”
“For Songbird and the New West!” the colony shouted, then ascended into cheers.
Ember’s ears rung. Her heartbeat escalated. War came back—blood and fighting cats flashing through her mind. She closed her eyes and gasped for air. Air, she needed air. ‘Stop, stop, stop!’
“Ember? Everyone stop! Be quiet! Please, you’re hurting her.” Kivyress’s voice was faint and distant.
Someone pawed at her side. Her stomach hurt. The ringing grew louder. ‘I’m on the ground. Why am I on the ground? What is going on? I have to get out of here. I can’t ruin this. I can’t; I can’t.’
She pushed herself up, then ran into the den. Her parent’s den, the place she’d grown up. It was the only place in the entire Glade where she felt safe. She pressed her head against the wall and stayed there. Gradually, her breathing slowed. After what seemed like an eternity of trying to calm herself alone, someone stepped inside.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Not really, Kivy, but thanks for asking. It’s like I can’t stop thinking about what happened. No matter how hard I try, it’s always there, hurting me all over again. My body keeps wanting me to fight, even when all I want is to just get some sleep.” A tiny mewl escaped her throat. “And Dad is dead.”
Kivyress limped over to her and pressed her face against her side. Her tears seeped into Ember’s fur and warmed her skin. “What are we going to do now?”
Ember pulled away from the wall and wrapped her paws around her sister’s shoulders. They cried together. “I don’t know.”
A new warmth surrounded them as Songbird joined the huddle. “We’re going to keep moving forward,” she said, voice wavering. “And we’re going to make it. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, or how hard the trail ahead will be, but we’re going to make it through this. We’ll mend what mistakes we can, and learn to live with the ones we can’t, starting right now.”
Ember lifted her head. “How?”
“I’ve given you a pardon. It was my first official ruling. It’s not much, I know, but it’s better than nothing at all. Welcome home, Ember.”
‘Home? Home, I’m home. I guess I am home. And this time I don’t have to leave. Ever.’ She leaned into Songbird’s embrace. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.” Her gaze became calm and distant. “And I guess now I’m going to have to fix this broken mess of a colony. I’ll need some help to do it, but things will get better than what they are.” She pulled her daughters closer. “I promise.”
———
Ember sat in the History Tree, once again watching the stars. She’d tried to fall asleep alone in the old den, but even the slightest sounds had snapped her awake. Instead of fighting it, she’d decided to welcome her restlessnes
s.
“I wish you were here, Dad. I know you’re not, so I don’t know why I’m talking right now. But I guess I just need some closure. There’s a lot I’ve always wanted to say to you that I never really had the courage to say, and now you’re gone, so I’ll never be able to actually say them to you. I guess I’ll have to settle for saying it to nothing, because it feels right. It feels . . . like I’m supposed to; like it might possibly be good for me in some way I don’t consciously know.”
She sighed. “This is stupid. I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not logical. I need you, and I need you here. Right here, in front of me. How else am I supposed to tell you how much I appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me, and for Kivy, and for Mom, and for everyone else? How am I supposed to tell you how much I’ve always looked up to you, or how hard I tried to be who you and Mom wanted me to be? How are you going to hear any of this when you aren’t here to listen, and more importantly, why am I still talking? There is no one here.”
She lay down and covered her face with her paws. ‘I feel like such a fluffhead now. You wouldn’t want me doing this, would you?’
“Hey, er, are you awake? I don’t think I ever said a . . . a proper hello to you,” Shard’s voice said.
“Yep. I can’t sleep. But that’s . . . more or less normal.”
“I was also wondering if you, uhm, you know, wanted to talk.”
“Not really.”
“Ah,” he said.
Ember sighed again. She leaned over to look at him. “But we can still talk, if you want. Not like I have anything else to do. So how are you doing with . . . all this?”
He flattened his ears and sniffed. “I still can’t convince myself she’s actually gone. I keep expecting her to walk into the Ri—ah, Glade, and tell me to cheer up. But she won’t, and I don’t know what to do. Without Echo, I feel lost.”
She got to her feet, then climbed down the tree. They touched noses and sat down together to look out across the Glade.
“We can feel lost together, I guess,” Ember said. “At least it’s better than being lost alone.”
He sighed. “I guess so.”
Somewhere in the familiar clearing, someone snored. Restless cats wandered around. A few of them talked among themselves or to themselves.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Shard said, breaking the ambience.
Ember narrowed her eyes. “It’s not your fault.” She dug her claws into the earth. “Bracken caused this.”
He looked away. “Yes, right. He took him, and Echo, and our home. Do you think we’ll ever at least get the Rift back?”
“I don’t know, but if we try anything against them, more cats are going to get killed. Though really, it’s not my place to decide what happens next. I’m lucky to even still be considered a colony cat at this point. I’m not about to push my own mother’s limits, not even to get back at the cat who ruined our lives. It’s not worth it.”
“All this pain, loss, and bitterness; is anything worth it, really? I mean, I can’t think of anything that would justify it. Any of it.”
Ember sighed, thoughts wandering back to Bracken’s words. Had he really given everyone what they wanted? Or had he merely given them what he wanted them to have? Did he hate the chaos, or simply want to control it? And what if he was telling the truth? Was there someone else out there who’d ordered Aspen and Farlight to be killed? She didn’t know.
“Where do you think we’ll go from here?” Shard asked, breaking her trail of thought.
She stood up. “To sleep, if we can. After that? I don’t know. Mom said she had an idea for a new job I could have, so I guess I’ll find out where I get to go tomorrow.”
“I suppose that means tomorrow will be better.”
“Maybe,” she replied. Ember turned towards the commander’s den, where Songbird and Kivyress were. “I should try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Shard.”
“Thanks for talking with me. I do feel a little better. Goodnight, then.”
“You’re welcome.”
Shard nodded once, then they parted ways. Ember entered the commander’s den and settled down beside Kivyress. Once again, something inside her refused to be calm. Another owl cried out. She shivered. ‘Calm down, Em. Tomorrow will be better. I’ll make it better.’
Yet in the deepest, darkest parts of her subconscious, her own words repeated themselves, over and over again until they became a silent roar.
‘Tomorrow never comes.’
Wildcat Page 57