by Erin Hunter
The sun was setting as Gray Wing reached the edge of the forest. A chill wind had set in, ruffling his fur. The cold seemed to go right through to his bones.
Suddenly Gray Wing drew to a stop. The journey back to the hollow seemed like a huge effort. He felt no joy at the prospect of going home. He would need to see Jagged Peak, and while he knew he should apologize to his brother for his harsh words, he was still finding it hard to forgive him for letting Sparrow Fur go out alone.
Petal was wrong, he thought sadly. No cat really needs me.
Instead Gray Wing found his paw steps leading him along the edge of the forest to the place where so many of his friends were buried beneath the spreading branches of the four oaks. By now the ground was covered with dead leaves; there was no sign that there was a grave there at all.
Gray Wing was shivering with cold, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away. He gazed up at the sky, not feeling surprised when the spirit-cats failed to appear. But then a voice spoke behind him.
“I thought I told you to stay away from this place.” River Ripple stepped out of the undergrowth and pressed himself against Gray Wing’s side. Gray Wing was surprised, but also grateful for the warmth of his thick, silver pelt. “This isn’t doing you any good, Gray Wing. Come back to my island with me,” he invited.
Gray Wing looked at him, startled. This independent loner is opening his home to me?
River Ripple was already padding away, his tail high in the air. “Well? Are you coming, or what?” he asked.
Gray Wing cast a final glance at the grave. “Yes.” He stood and followed in River Ripple’s paw steps.
CHAPTER 13
Thunder stood at the edge of the hollow, gazing across the moor. The sun was setting, but Gray Wing still hadn’t returned from the forest. Three days before, Owl Eyes had come back alone, his head down and a subdued look in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Thunder had asked him. “I thought you went with Gray Wing to fetch Sparrow Fur.”
“I changed my mind,” Owl Eyes replied, as if every word was being dragged out of him.
Thunder wanted to ask him why. It wasn’t like Owl Eyes to leave his injured sister to cope without him. But clearly the young cat wasn’t going to share, and Thunder knew it wasn’t his business. So Thunder had simply seen the kit settled with Jagged Peak and Holly, and hoped that the reason for his behavior would become clear soon.
But Owl Eyes had said nothing more, and day had followed day with no sign of Gray Wing. Thunder had visited Clear Sky, in case Gray Wing had stayed with his brother, but all Clear Sky knew was that he had left the camp after seeing that Sparrow Fur wasn’t fit to travel. After that, Tall Shadow had sent out a search party, and Thunder himself had watched for
his kin when he was out hunting, but no cat could figure out where Gray Wing had gone. Owl Eyes and Pebble Heart were frantic; it wasn’t long since their mother had died, and now the cat who had become their father had disappeared.
This isn’t right, Thunder thought. We have to do something.
With a last glance over the empty moor, he padded into the hollow and headed for Wind Runner’s den. As usual, Morning Whisker lay in her nest, motionless except for the occasional jerk of her legs, as if even in her sleep she was in pain. Her belly was still swollen, and more gashes had opened up in her skin.
Pebble Heart crouched beside her, watching the kit intently. He looked exhausted, and his eyes were despairing. A tail-length away Wind Runner sat with Gorse Fur beside her and her other two kits huddled against her.
“Morning Whisker will be fine,” Moth Flight murmured, giving her mother’s fur a comforting lick.
“Yes, Cloud Spots and Pebble Heart know what to do,” Dust Muzzle added.
Wind Runner only shook her head. Thunder could see that she knew how empty their reassurances were.
She rose to her paws and stretched her neck forward, as if she was about to lick Morning Whiskers’s ears.
“No!” Pebble Heart sprang up and blocked Wind Runner from coming any closer. “You know you’re not allowed to touch her, not while she has this sickness.”
Wind Runner glared at him, then turned away, her head drooping. Gorse Fur pressed himself against her side, but she didn’t even look at him.
“Wind Runner, we’re doing all—” Thunder began, pain wrenching at his heart to see her grief.
“Leave me alone!” Wind Runner snapped.
Thunder realized there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t fathom the pain she was feeling; he couldn’t make it better. This illness is breaking every cat’s heart, he thought as he padded away.
Tall Shadow was still perched on the lookout rock, her gaze scanning the moor. Thunder bounded over and leaped up beside her. “Have you seen any sign of Gray Wing?” he asked.
The black she-cat shook her head. “He should have been back days ago. The last cat who went off by herself died,” she added. “Many of us were lost in the battle, we have to face up to the sickness, and now another cat has disappeared.” She gave her tail a frustrated lash. “What else can go wrong?”
The setting sun washed the moor in scarlet light, showing nothing but emptiness between the hollow and the dark line of the forest. Thunder let out an anxious sigh.
“I’ll keep watch through the night,” Tall Shadow assured him.
“But is that enough?” Thunder asked, worry prickling in his pads. “I could go out to look for him again.”
Tall Shadow shook her head. “You said it yourself: Our first concern is keeping away from the sickness. We all agreed. In the dark you don’t know which animals you’ll meet, and you could easily put your paw on dead prey. It’s best for you to stay here and be patient.”
Though he didn’t like it, Thunder knew that she was right. He settled down on top of the rock, willing himself to relax, and finally fell into a doze as the sun vanished and the sky darkened. Drowsing uneasily through the night, he was roused from time to time by the hooting of owls or the bark of a fox. Knowing Gray Wing was far from home made it impossible for him to fully drift off, and all the while he was aware of Tall Shadow watching and waiting beside him, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
The damp chill of dawn brought Thunder back to full wakefulness. Above his head the stars were growing pale, and a milky light was beginning to show on the horizon where the sun would rise.
Thunder rose and stretched his cramped limbs, arching his back and shivering at the dew that misted his pelt. At the foot of the rock he spotted a mouse scuffling among the grass, and bunched his muscles, ready to pounce.
Before he could move, Tall Shadow nudged him. “There’s a cat coming!”
Thunder looked up to see a dark shape outlined on the horizon, heading for the camp. “Gray Wing!” he exclaimed thankfully. He leaped down from the rock and raced out across the moor to meet him.
But as he drew nearer to the cat he realized that it wasn’t Gray Wing. Clear Sky! What does my father want now?
“Have you seen any sign of Gray Wing?” he demanded as soon as Clear Sky was in earshot.
Clear Sky skidded to a halt beside him. “Not since he left my camp,” he replied, looking confused. “I already told you that. Hasn’t he come home yet?”
Thunder shook his head. “We haven’t seen him.”
Clear Sky twitched the tip of his tail worriedly. “Well, he certainly—”
“Thunder! Clear Sky!” The distant call that interrupted him came from Tall Shadow, still on her rock. She beckoned them with her tail and leaped down to join them as they padded up.
Clear Sky wrinkled his nose as he entered the camp, and Thunder realized how heavily the taint of sickness hung in the air.
“Morning Whisker is no better, then?” Clear Sky asked.
Thunder shook his head. “I think she’s dying,” he choked out, his heart breaking as he spoke the words aloud for the first time.
He and Clear Sky followed Tall Shadow as she retreated to the edge of the camp
. “Why did you come to see us?” she asked.
Clear Sky looked uncomfortable, his whiskers quivering as he replied. “I’m very worried about this illness. All the trouble with One Eye distracted me, but now that it’s quieted down I can see that the biggest danger facing us is exactly that: the sickness that’s killing Morning Whisker. I’m afraid other cats were exposed, and I’m keeping my eye out for any signs that any other cat is getting sick. The trouble is,” he admitted, “even if one of our cats starts to show symptoms, I have no idea what to do for them.” Glancing from Thunder to Tall Shadow and back again, he added, “I want to do all I can to help. After all, we’re in this together.”
Thunder was impressed. Only a few moons ago Clear Sky was acting like he owned the forest, attacking cats who dared to set paw over his borders. Now he wants to keep the peace. “Times have changed,” he murmured.
Clear Sky’s whiskers twitched with irritation. “I haven’t changed that much!” he protested. “I was always the same cat.”
Tall Shadow gave him a long, hard look. “I never doubted it for a moment,” she meowed.
Clear Sky blinked, and a rough purr rose from his throat. Thunder could see how much Tall Shadow’s words meant to him.
“So, how are we going to stop this sickness?” Clear Sky asked briskly, stepping back.
“Only those tending to them are going close to our sick cats,” Tall Shadow explained. “And we’re being careful about hunting, so that we don’t bring sick prey back into the camp.”
“That may not be enough,” Clear Sky commented. “I’ve been thinking . . . that forest fire was probably a good thing. The flames should have cleansed the land, so the area that was burned might be a good place to make a camp if we need to move.”
Thunder didn’t like the sound of that. “I wouldn’t want to move cats as sick as Morning Whisker.”
Clear Sky gave him a puzzled look. “Well, we’d leave the sick cats behind,” he mewed. “Otherwise we’d bring the sickness with us.”
Thunder let out a sigh. My father still has that ruthless streak!
He could see that Tall Shadow wasn’t keen on Clear Sky’s idea, either. “Why don’t we all meet by the four trees and discuss it?” she suggested.
Clear Sky hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll tell my cats. Is sunset okay?”
Once Tall Shadow had assented, Clear Sky bounded off. Thunder watched him go, unable to feel hopeful about the meeting.
Where is Gray Wing?
The rest of the day seemed to stretch out like an entire season. Thunder left the camp, partly to hunt, but mostly to keep his eyes open for his missing kin. Though he hunted well, chasing down a rabbit, he found no trace of Gray Wing.
I wish the day was over, he thought as he returned to the camp with his prey. Maybe some cat at the meeting will know where Gray Wing is.
But as Thunder padded down into the hollow, he regretted wishing the moments away. A shriek of grief sounded from Wind Runner’s den. Dropping his rabbit, Thunder bounded over there to find Morning Whisker stretched out on the ground. The kit’s eyes were rolled back in her head. There were scuff marks on the ground beside her, as though she had raked the earth in some kind of fit. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, swollen and cracked. As Thunder watched, pity and horror surging through his body, the tiny kit’s spine contorted in a final shudder of pain. Then she lay still.
Wind Runner sprang toward her, but Pebble Heart was faster, darting to block her.
“Get out of my way!” Wind Runner snarled.
“I can’t let you touch her,” Pebble Heart responded. “I’m sorry. But even now, you could catch the sickness.”
“She’s my kit!” Wind Runner howled, her voice cracking with grief. “I can’t lose another one!”
Furiously she lashed out at Pebble Heart, her claws extended. Thunder leaped forward to get between them, taking the blow on his own shoulder.
“Don’t,” he meowed to Wind Runner. “Pebble Heart is only trying to help.”
Wind Runner glared at him for a heartbeat, and Thunder braced himself for an attack. But instead the brown she-cat collapsed to the ground, letting out a thin, heartbroken wail. Gorse Fur crouched beside her, licking her ears, and the rest of the cats gathered around in silent concern.
Tall Shadow was the last to approach; Wind Runner looked up and faced her with hostility in her eyes. “Don’t tell me!” she spat. “We’ll need to have a burial. You’re very good at organizing those, aren’t you?”
Thunder rested his tail on Wind Runner’s shoulder. “Tall Shadow only wants to help,” he told her, trying not to sound harsh. He could see that Wind Runner was out of her mind with grief.
Tall Shadow dipped her head toward Wind Runner, her eyes patient and sorrowful. “What would you like us to do?” she asked.
Wind Runner gazed for a moment at Gorse Fur, then at her dead kit. “I’d like us to send Morning Whisker to live with the spirit-cats,” she whispered. “That’s what she deserves.”
“Yes, I’d like that too,” Gorse Fur agreed.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Tall Shadow mewed. Turning to the other cats, she continued, “Go and fetch leaves—as many as you can find. Not dried up and crackly, but fresh ones that we can use to wrap Morning Whisker’s body.”
Grateful for something to do, Thunder bounded out of the hollow with his denmates, heading for the forest. As he reached the outskirts he found plenty of leaves, and collected up a bundle to carry back to camp. The others returned too, piling their leaves in a heap beside the kit’s body.
“Pebble Heart,” Tall Shadow meowed, “you and Cloud Spots are the only cats who have touched Morning Whisker directly. Will you wrap her in the leaves, please?”
“Of course, Tall Shadow.” Pebble Heart dipped his head respectfully.
Leaf by leaf, under the intent gaze of their denmates, Pebble Heart and Cloud Spots wrapped the kit in layer after layer of leaves until her whole body was covered. Then between them, Mouse Ear and Jagged Peak nudged her across the moor, all the weary way to the four trees, with the rest of the group surrounding them in silent escort.
As the sun slid down the sky, casting long shadows over their path, Thunder realized with a start that Morning Whisker would never see another morning in her short life. It wasn’t fair—for one so young to be lost, or for Wind Runner to lose another of her kits. His heart started to pound and he didn’t know how to go on bearing his sorrow.
At last the cats arrived beside the grave where the cats who had died in the battle were buried.
“Where would you like to put her?” Tall Shadow asked Wind Runner. “We shouldn’t disturb the main grave.”
Wind Runner’s gaze fell on a gorse bush at the foot of the slope that led down into the clearing. “Over there,” she meowed. “Morning Whisker always liked hiding in bushes.”
She began scraping at the ground underneath the bush. Thunder and the other cats joined in to help her and soon they had dug a hole big enough to bury the kit. Gorse Fur nudged the tiny, leaf-wrapped body into the grave, and helped Wind Runner to paw the soil back over it, patting it down gently. Wind Runner tore a sprig of gorse off the bush and laid it on the grave, her eyes wide with sorrow.
“Good-bye, my little one,” she whispered.
Thunder’s heart ached as he glanced up at the sky, where clouds had covered the sun. He knew it was still too early for the spirit-cats to appear, but he sent a message up to them.
“Set Wind Runner’s kit free of her pain,” he murmured. “And let her play among the stars.”
When he looked down again, Tall Shadow gave him an approving nod. “Well spoken,” she mewed. Glancing around at the other cats, she added, “We may as well stay here. It’s not long to sunset, when we have to meet Clear Sky and his cats.”
Wind Runner turned away from her kit’s grave. “I’m not staying,” she told the others with a challenging look. “I can’t stand all of this anymore. I should have remained
a rogue, alone on the moors. If I’d had my kits alone, maybe Morning Whisker would still be alive now. Maybe none of this would have happened. I’ve helped . . .” Her voice shook and she made a massive effort to steady it. “I’ve helped you hunt and in battle, and all I’ve had in return is grief and heartbreak.”
Thunder’s mouth turned dry and it was hard for him to speak. “But where will you go?”
Wind Runner gazed farther out toward the moors. “Back where I came from. I’ll take my kits and disappear among the long grasses, and none of you will ever have to care about me again.”
“But we want to care about you!” Holly protested. “I was a rogue cat too, and I remember how hard it was, even if you don’t. Wind Runner, don’t cut yourself off, not when you’re having such a tough time.”
“She won’t be alone,” Gorse Fur meowed, stepping forward. “I’ll go with her.”
They arrived together, Thunder thought. And now they’re leaving together. “Are you sure?” he asked.
But Wind Runner was already turning away, running through the trees with Moth Flight and Dust Muzzle following her.
Gorse Fur cast a regretful glance at the other cats. “Don’t worry,” he mewed. “I’ll look after them.” Breaking into a run, he followed his mate and their kits out of sight.
Will we ever see Wind Runner and Gorse Fur again? Thunder wondered.
CHAPTER 14
Scarlet light slanted through a gap in the clouds as the sun went down. A chilly breeze sprang up, and a few dead leaves whirled down over the waiting cats.
Leaf-bare is almost here, Thunder thought.
Then he noticed movement among the bushes that lined the sides of the hollow, and a heartbeat later Clear Sky padded into the open, the rest of his cats trailing behind him.
“Greetings,” he meowed, dipping his head to Tall Shadow and Thunder.
“Greetings,” Tall Shadow responded. “Let’s all gather around the rock, and—”