Outside was cold. An icy wind whisked between the trees. No prey stirred, and he guessed that the tiny creatures of the forest were tucked deep in their warm burrows. Perhaps he should send out a hunting patrol at night as well as in the day. Mice and voles ventured out when the moon was high, but so did the owls and foxes that preyed on them. And the air would be too cold to scent anything but ice.
He followed the trail to the gully. One good rainfall and the narrow channel in the forest floor would be brimming with water, but for now it was dry. He hopped into it and headed toward the great sycamore.
He paused suddenly, the fur along his spine pricking as though it felt some creature’s gaze. Was he being followed? He stopped and listened for paw steps. A blackbird shrilled overhead. Far away on the moor, a dog barked. He opened his mouth to taste the air—Lightning Tail and Blossom had passed this way, their stale scent carried away by the breeze rippling over him, heavy with the scent of the pine forest, but nothing else.
Clear Sky shook out his fur and picked his way farther along the gully, telling himself that he was just being jumpy.
As the woods rose to one side, he hopped out of the gully and began to climb the slope toward the sycamore. As he neared the top, a fresh scent touched his nose; not all prey was in its burrow. The thick layer of leaf litter beneath the sycamore, crawling with tasty bugs, must have tempted something from its shelter. He opened his mouth and tasted the musky scent of a vole.
Stiffening, he dropped into a hunting crouch and drew himself forward, one paw step at a time, toward the crest of the slope. As the earth flattened, he scanned the forest floor. The ancient roots of the sycamore snaked into the ground. Movement flickered beside one of the gnarled stems. Clear Sky froze. The vole was snuffling at a seed pod, its tiny ears twitching.
He fixed his gaze on it, forcing his tail to stay still as he crept forward. His heart quickened as he closed in. The vole had picked up the seed pod and was nibbling at one side. Three tail-lengths from it, Clear Sky narrowed his eyes, judging his leap. If he pushed hard enough, he could land square on the vole and pin it against the sycamore root. His fur rippled along his spine. Bunching his legs beneath him, he waggled his hindquarters. Then he leaped.
Dead leaves fluttered out behind him. The vole turned at the sound, its eyes widening in terror.
Fast as lightning, it scuttled out of sight. Clear Sky landed clumsily, thumping against the sycamore root.
“Mouse dung!” he hissed, frustration flashing though him.
Leaves rustled behind and he turned.
Star Flower was standing at the top of the slope. Her lustrous tail was high and her eyes glittered with amusement. “Nice try.”
Heat flooded beneath Clear Sky’s pelt. “You scared it off.” He straightened angrily. “It probably smelled your scent.”
She padded closer, her tail swishing. “At least something did.”
“You were downwind.” Clear Sky grunted. Was she trying to embarrass him?
“Perhaps I could give you some tips.” She stopped a tail-length away. “I’ve been hunting here all my life.”
Clear Sky climbed onto the root and sat down. “I don’t need tips, thanks. I’m a great hunter.” He lifted a paw and began washing it.
“I know that.” Star Flower rounded the end of the root, where it plunged into the earth, stopping on the other side. “But you weren’t born in a forest. You don’t have the same feel for it as me. Leaf and Nettle share an instinct. You’ve seen them hunt. You must have noticed how they can blend into the woods in a way you’ll never be able to.”
Clear Sky stopped washing. “That’s why I took them into my group,” he said, his chest puffing with pride. Any cat could hunt, but few had the sense to recognize and use the skills of other cats. He leaned toward Star Flower. “Perhaps I should give you some tips about leadership.”
Her green eyes glowed with a challenge. “Perhaps you should.”
Clear Sky snorted. Proud young cat! “What are you doing here anyway?”
“You looked lonely, leaving the camp by yourself,” she told him.
“I don’t get lonely,” Clear Sky snapped.
Star Flower eyed him for a moment. “Really?” She padded forward until she was just a whisker away from him.
He hopped down from the tree root and faced her. “Go back to camp and leave me alone.”
“It’s too… cozy in camp. I’m not used to being around so many cats. For most of my life, it was just me and One Eye.”
“Surely you had littermates?” Clear Sky bristled with irritation the moment he spoke. He’d allowed her to draw him into a conversation.
“They died with my mother.” Her green eyes showed no expression.
Clear Sky’s paws pricked uneasily. Did she feel no grief? “How did they die?”
“I don’t know.” Star Flower shrugged. “I was too young to remember, and One Eye refused to ever speak of them.”
Clear Sky strode past her and gazed away between the trees. He wasn’t going to feel sympathy for this cat. This was probably how she had won Thunder’s affection. “That must have been hard for you,” he meowed coldly. “But every cat holds some tragedy in their heart.”
“Like you.” She moved closer until her thick pelt brushed his.
Clear Sky flinched away and glared at her. “Go back to camp.”
“We’re more alike than you think.” Her green gaze seemed to burn into his.
“We’re nothing alike,” he snapped. “I’ve never betrayed any cat.”
“I’m not sure Gray Wing would agree with that,” Star Flower pointed out. “Or Thunder. Or Jagged Peak.” She paused. “Or Rainswept Flower.”
Claw Sky could feel his claws extended, digging into the earth. How dare she remind him that he’d killed a cat he’d grown up with?
He had been trying to make amends for it every day since.
Star Flower lowered her voice. “I understand you, Clear Sky. You’ve had to make hard decisions to protect the cats in your care. And sometimes it’s meant doing things you’ve regretted.”
She held his gaze. “If I could take back some of the things I’ve done, I would.”
He blinked. Was she sorry for her betrayal?
Her eyes glimmered as though lit by starlight. Her dark pupils looked like flowers. To Clear Sky, it was almost like the five petals of the Blazing Star seemed to shine in her eyes.
“I know you don’t trust me,” she murmured. “I don’t deserve your trust. But I will try to show you that you can count on me. Once I choose my allies, I am willing to die for them. For all my mistakes, I never betrayed my father. And, if you trust me, I will never betray you.”
Clear Sky fought to drag his gaze away, but he was caught in the green depths of her eyes. I will never betray you. As her words echoed in his mind, his heart ached with hope. Could it be true? Had he finally found a cat who had complete faith in him? Who would follow him without question through thick and thin?
Wind rattled the branches overhead, breaking the spell. Clear Sky turned away. “Go back to camp, Star Flower,” he meowed firmly. “If you want to earn my trust—and the trust of the other cats—then you’ll have to work for it. Help Milkweed groom the last of the fleas from her pelt. Get fresh moss for Pink Eyes’s nest. His fur is thin, so he feels the cold more than most cats. Make sure Thistle and Clover never go hungry again.” He faced Star Flower, searching her gaze. Would she obey him?
She dipped her head. “Okay.” Then she turned and headed back through the trees. As she disappeared down the slope, sunshine reached through the branches like claws and raked her golden pelt.