At the top of the hill, Chestnut and Snail stopped, their dark fur shadowy in the moonlight. The Sisters gathered around them, and Moonlight stepped forward to touch her nose gently first to Snail’s ear, then to Chestnut’s. “I wish you happiness,” she told them softly, then stepped away to let another Sister brush her muzzle against theirs.
One by one, the cats of the Sisters said their good-byes to Snail and Chestnut. “We won’t forget you,” one murmured. “Take care of each other,” another mewed. Hawk pressed her face to each of theirs, hard, and closed her eyes as if she was memorizing her sons’ scents.
At last, it was Earth’s turn. His chest was tight with anxiety. Chestnut and Snail had always been part of their group, only a little older than Earth and Stream and their littermates. They had organized the best games of moss-ball when they were all younger and had led daring, sneaky raids on the prey-hole. How could they be leaving the Sisters forever?
“Good luck,” Earth said awkwardly, touching his cheek to Snail’s as the larger tom bent down to him. He turned to Chestnut and touched his cheek as well. “Maybe we’ll see each other on our wanders someday.”
“Maybe,” said Chestnut lightly. His eyes were bright, and he was already looking past Earth, down the hill. Earth watched as he exchanged an excited glance with Snail. It was as if they couldn’t wait to begin their wander.
Earth wondered what that felt like.
At last, the good-byes said, Moonlight dipped her head to the two toms. “This is the beginning of your adventure,” she meowed, her voice warm. “Our love goes with you as you set off on your endless wander. You are guardians of the land now. You must listen to what it tells you. Be honorable cats, and the land will guide your paws.”
Snail and Chestnut both nodded earnestly. “We will listen.”
Moonlight blinked at them approvingly. “Walk through the night without looking back,” she told them. “At dawn, you will have left your kithood behind you and become true toms. May the ancestors who walk the land find you and give you guidance.”
Chestnut dipped his head again. “Thank you,” he replied, and Snail echoed him.
Earth shuddered, his tail lowering, then looked around to see if anyone had noticed. The Sisters regularly spoke to their ancestors—ghosts—and every cat believed that these same ancestors would find toms on their wander. The spirits were supposed to guide them, to give them advice. But Earth had never seen a ghost, and he didn’t want to. It sounded creepy. What would a ghost look like?
Chestnut and Snail probably already knew. No doubt they could see spirits and talk to the land. They were ready for this.
Earth watched as Snail and Chestnut walked down the hill and out of sight. They didn’t look back. They were hurrying, eager for whatever came next.
A cold, sudden wind blew through Earth’s fur and flattened his ears. He shivered again and looked up. Dark clouds were racing across the sky, blotting out the Claw Stars. The branches of the trees farther along the hill thrashed wildly.
“Let’s get to shelter,” Moonlight called, waving her tail for the Sisters to follow her.
Earth looked in the direction where Chestnut and Snail had gone. There was no sign of them now. They had disappeared into the night.
Stream shivered beside him. “Let’s go,” he mewed.
“I hope Snail and Chestnut find somewhere dry to sleep,” Earth told him. “It’s going to rain.”
“They have to look after themselves now,” Stream answered. “Come on!”
With one last glance after the older toms, Earth followed Stream back to their camp and into the nursery, where he curled up, grateful for Stream’s warmth on one side and Sunrise’s on the other. He let his eyes close. Chestnut and Snail will be all right, he thought. They’ll look after each other.
Earth didn’t know how long he slept, but he woke with a start. The nursery was dark, not even a hint of moonlight shining through the branches. Cold water was dripping through the thornbush and trickling through his fur. It was raining hard.
“Mrrrrooooooooooow!”
Earth sat straight up, every hair on his pelt trembling. The frightened yowl had come from outside, cutting through the steady beat of the rain.
It was his mother.
Chapter 2
“Moonlight!” Earth jumped to his paws. He’d never heard his mother sound like that before.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s not morning yet.”
The other kits were stirring and meowing complaints, but Earth ignored them and pushed his way out of the nursery.
“Moonlight! Where are you?” The rain was coming down so hard, it felt like claws slashing through Earth’s fur. Cold wind whipped water into his eyes and blew back his ears and whiskers. He could hear cats calling to one another throughout the camp, but he couldn’t see any of them.
Stream came out of the nursery behind him, his cold fur brushing Earth’s briefly. “I’ll look this way,” he yowled, waving his tail toward the hill from which they had watched Chestnut and Snail leave.
“Wait!” Earth told him. “We should—” Stick together, he began to say, but a crack of lightning, quickly followed by a rumble of thunder, drowned out his words. When he blinked the lightning dazzle from his eyes, Stream was gone.
“To me! Sisters, to me!” Moonlight was suddenly there, calling through the rain. She was almost on top of him before she saw him. “Earth,” she meowed, “why are you out of the nursery? Where are the other kits?” Before he could answer, she had stepped past him and poked her head into the nursery. “Ice! Sunrise! Haze! Come with me!”
The three she-kits tumbled out of the nursery after her, huddling together and hunching their shoulders against the rain.
“Where’s Stream?” Moonlight asked briskly.
“I don’t know,” Earth answered. “He went …” He gestured with his tail toward the hill. “I tried to stop him.”
“Okay,” Moonlight mewed. As another bolt of lightning lit the clearing, she looked past Earth, her worried gaze searching the camp. “This way.” She brushed her tail across the kits’ backs, guiding them toward the far end of the clearing.
The rain beat against Earth’s face as he followed his mother. Other voices were calling across the camp, panicked. He narrowed his eyes to slits as lightning lit up the sky again. Beside him, Sunrise jumped as another crack of thunder sounded.
Moonlight led them to a large stone on the side of the clearing. “Stay here,” she ordered firmly. “I have to help the others.”
“We can help!” Earth volunteered. The she-kits yowled their agreement.
“You can help by staying put,” Moonlight replied, already turning away. “I need to gather the Sisters together.” She disappeared into the darkness.
The stone provided a little shelter from the rain. Earth pressed against it, the cold of the rock seeping into his wet skin. His heart was beating so wildly it felt as if there were a frantic bird trapped in his chest.
He could hear Moonlight calling to the Sisters, marshaling them into position to survive the storm. His tail lashed with irritation: Why was he too small to be of any use?
“Help! Help me!” A faint yowl came to them on the wind.
“That’s Stream!” Earth stepped out from the stone’s shelter, his ears pricked to catch his friend’s cry.
Sunrise followed him out into the rain. “I don’t think Moonlight can hear him,” she mewed worriedly. “She’s still gathering the Sisters.”