He was halfway across when the growling got louder and louder, closer and closer. He glanced up and caught his breath, his paws skidding on the rough black surface of the Thunderpath. A monster was bearing down on him.
It howled, a loud, deep noise rising above its steady growl, and Earth yowled back, panicked, and ran faster than he’d ever realized he could. The world was blurry around him, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the thumping of his heart and the pounding of his paws.
His paws hit the short grass, so much softer than the Thunderpath, and he staggered a few steps before collapsing. The monster howled again, once, and for a heartbeat Earth saw the strange hairless form of a Twopaw inside as the monster dashed past him. A rush of air ruffled his fur.
Earth tried not to think about how close he’d been to being squashed under the monster’s fat black paws. He lay on the grass, exhausted, and panted.
After a little while, he slowly got to his paws again and began to search for the Sisters’ scent. Finally, he found it—heading in a straight line away from the Thunderpath. Earth breathed a sigh of relief.
He was going to find them. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t send him away again. He hoped not. Not when he’d been through so much already.
Chapter 6
By the next morning, the scents that Earth was following had changed. The signs of the Sisters were fresher, and as he sniffed his way past a large oak tree, Earth smelled that here the trails of scent led in all directions, crossing and recrossing. Just as he realized that, he came out of the trees onto a wide-open moor. Long grass blew across level ground, broken here and there only by scrubby, low-growing bushes. The scent of the Sisters was even stronger out here. He wasn’t following the Sisters’ journey anymore; he had found their new camp.
Instinctively, Earth’s ears flattened and he crouched lower. I don’t want them to see me. It would have been better if their camp were among trees, so that he could hide in the branches and watch them unobserved before he decided whether to approach. What if they think I’m attacking them? What if they attack me? He had never heard of a tom returning from his wander.
Sliding out his claws, Earth ripped at the ground in frustration. He’d come all this way, and now he was afraid to face the Sisters again. Why didn’t they want him? Just because he was a tom? They were his kin!
With a lash of his tail, Earth turned away from the moor and took a few steps back under the trees. What was the point of looking for his kin, if they were just going to send him away again, or maybe even drive him away with their claws and teeth? He would leave on his own before they had a chance to tell him to go.
He took another step, then turned back toward the moor. I’ve come too far to leave now. They might turn him away, but he couldn’t be so close and not try to talk to them. Maybe they wouldn’t let him stay, maybe they’d be angry—but at least, for a little while, he wouldn’t be alone.
Holding his head high, Earth strode out onto the moor. He knew the kind of camp Moonlight always picked, and he was sure that the Sisters must have made their dens beneath some of the small thornbushes growing here and there among the grass. Spotting a likely group of bushes—several growing close together—he headed toward them.
“Hey!” A fierce yowl came from behind him, and Earth spun around.
Ice was glaring at him, fur bristling along her back. When she saw his face, though, her expression changed from anger to shock. “Earth?” she asked, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”
Earth sucked in his breath. Ice looked healthy, her fur shiny and her eyes bright. Whatever was about to happen now, he was glad to see her well. “You’re all right,” he purred.
Ice looked pleased. “I was so sick when you left that we didn’t get to say good-bye,” she meowed. “Is that why you’re here? To see me again?”
“Sort of.” Earth sat down on the grass with a sigh. “I wanted to see you. I wanted to see every cat.” There was a tug of hope in his chest. It was good that he’d run into Ice, alone, first. At least she would listen to him. She might even talk to Moonlight for him.
“What’s going on?” Ice glanced around as if checking that they were alone, then sat beside him. She curled her tail neatly over her paws, her face serious. “You know you’re supposed to be off wandering. Mother told me that if we ever saw you again, it would be by chance and probably not for a long, long time. It hasn’t even been a moon yet!”
“I can’t do it.” The words burst out of Earth as if he’d been saving them up the whole time he’d been on his wander. “I tried, but I’m so lonely. It’s scary on my own, and nothing feels right.” He hung his head.
Ice’s eyes were full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Earth,” she told him. “Maybe you should try wandering in a different direction? You might meet other toms. They all must be out there somewhere.”
“How do you know?” Earth mewed sharply. “The Sisters don’t know what happens to the toms when they leave. They could all be dead, or everkits. And the Sisters don’t care.”
“We do care,” Ice protested, dropping her gaze to the ground. “But this is the way it is.”
“I don’t understand why.” Earth hunched his shoulders and his voice came out as a whisper. “I want to come back to the Sisters.” His whole body was tense. Maybe Ice would help him. Maybe he could come back.
But Ice was shaking her head sadly. “Earth, you know the rules. No tom can live with the Sisters. You have to wander and guard the land.”
“I know.” Earth felt small and miserable. He had known, hadn’t he? If even his own littermate felt this way, none of the Sisters would want him to stay. The Sisters would never let him be one of them again.
“Is it really so awful?” Ice asked tentatively. “Maybe I could …” She hesitated.
“You can’t do anything,” Earth told her. Part of him wanted to beg her to talk to Moonlight, but he knew nothing was going to change. If Ice spent her time trying to fix things for him, she wouldn’t be working for the Sisters. They needed her to hunt and patrol and teach the younger kits, like all the Sisters did. If she was worrying about him instead, it would hurt every Sister.
He swallowed hard and went on. “It’s fine. You’re right—I don’t belong here anymore. But I wanted to see you.”
“I’m glad you did.” Ice leaned forward as if to nuzzle his cheek, then pulled back. She doesn’t want the other Sisters to scent me on her, Earth realized, his tail drooping. “You will be all right, really, won’t you?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course I will.” Earth knew he was lying. He stood up, lifting his head high. “I guess we won’t see each other again,” he meowed.
He started to turn away as Ice answered, “I hope that’s not true.” Her voice trembled.
Earth couldn’t bring himself to reply. He looked straight ahead and walked quickly away. As he got farther from Ice, he began to run.
I can never go back.
By the time the sun set, Earth was far away from the Sisters’ camp. He’d run and run after leaving Ice, run until he was breathless and sore-pawed. When he’d finally come to a stop, there hadn’t been time to find a good den for the night. Instead he twisted and turned, roots jabbing into his sides as he tried to sleep in a narrow hollow at the foot of an alder tree.
What will I do tomorrow? And for the rest of my life?
His stomach growled. He hadn’t had the heart to look for prey after seeing Ice. Maybe this is what happens to toms who leave the Sisters, he thought. They starve because they’re too lonely to hunt.