Clear Sky met his gaze stubbornly, trying to ignore the shame that burned beneath his pelt. “This wasn’t my fault,” he insisted. “I just wanted to make sure there was enough prey for every cat.”
River Ripple glanced down at Fircone’s body. “There’ll be plenty now,” he muttered dryly.
Fur brushed the ground beside Clear Sky. Gray Wing had dropped into a crouch. His breath was hoarse, thickening his mew as he spoke. “We let it go too far.”
Tall Shadow growled. “There never would have been a battle if Clear Sky hadn’t started setting borders.”
River Ripple dipped his head. “It’s done now.”
“What next?” Wind Runner lifted her chin. “I’ll fight again if that’s what it takes to make the moor safe for my kits.”
Gorse Fur looked at her, his ear twitching. “You fought well, but the moor isn’t worth it. We can take the kits somewhere else.”
“Never.” Wind Runner glared at her mate. “The moor is our home now.”
Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. “And the forest is mine,” he snapped. “I was just fighting to defend it.”
Wind Runner jerked around to stare at him. “You were fighting to take our land too. You’re greedy.”
“No.” Gray Wing blinked. “Clear Sky was never greedy. In the mountains he gave his food up for Fluttering Bird. No cat changes that much.”
Clear Sky stared at Gray Wing, surprised.
Gray Wing returned his gaze. “Why can’t we live side by side, in peace?”
As he spoke the wind lifted. The clouds cleared from the moon and starlight drenched the clearing, sparkling on the pelts of the fallen cats, turning them silver.
Clear Sky stiffened as he saw something else move on the slope. Who is it now? He strained to see over the ferns and caught sight of a pair of eyes.
His breath caught in his throat.
A cat was heading into the hollow. She stared at him, her gentle gaze so familiar that it broke his heart to return it.
It can’t be!
She padded into the clearing, her silver pelt sleek in the moonlight.
She’s dead.
Clear Sky’s fur prickled along his spine. “Storm? Is that you?”
Chapter 22
Gray Wing stared at his brother. How could it be Storm? I saw her die. Heart racing, he followed Clear Sky’s gaze.
It was Storm.
She stood beyond the littered bodies, her silver pelt seeming to sparkle as though the stars were woven through her fur.
He struggled to his paws, his chest tightening until it hurt to breathe.
“What’s happening?”
Gray Wing jerked back as Thunder leaped up with a wail of terror. The young tom was staring at Hawk Swoop’s limp body as a glittering, silvery shape rose from it and drifted around him.
“Hawk Swoop?” Thunder gasped, eyes wide. “Are you… alive?”
She purred. “No, my dear Thunder. But don’t grieve. I will never truly leave you.”
As she spoke, more spirits rose, glittering, from the other broken bodies.
Gray Wing swallowed, fear spiraling through his belly as he gasped for breath. What’s happening? He glanced down at his paws, half expecting to see his own fur sparkle with starlight. Am I dying?
Gray Wing reasoned with himself. Thunder wasn’t dying. Nor were Clear Sky and Wind Runner—he could tell by their bristling fur. Around them, Gorse Fur backed away, while River Ripple was shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.
Tall Shadow padded forward, muzzle stretched, her nose twitching. “Rainswept Flower?”
“Hello, Tall Shadow.” The brown tabby she-cat faced her camp mate, eyes bright, as she stepped away from her body. There was no wound at her throat, and no blood matting her pelt.
The spirit-cats did not carry the wounds that had killed them. Their pelts were sleek and thick. Frost’s white pelt shone brighter than in life. Fircone, Falling Feather, and Jackdaw’s Cry gazed about themselves, as if trying to figure out where they were and what had happened to them.
“Falling Feather.” Jackdaw’s Cry stared at his sister, his round eyes glistening with grief. “I’m sorry.”
She padded forward and touched her muzzle to his. “I forgive you. I hope you forgive me, too…”
Thunder picked his way past the bodies, his gaze flitting around the spirit-cats. He stopped beside Gray Wing and pressed against him, trembling. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” Gray Wing whispered, unable to drag his gaze from the spirit-cats.
“Stoneteller would know,” Clear Sky whispered.
“But Stoneteller isn’t here.” Gray Wing fought panic. This didn’t make sense. He stiffened as he saw more cats appear on the slope.
Bright Stream!
Shaded Moss, Fox, and Moon Shadow padded into the clearing after her. Every cat who had died since they’d left the mountains. His mind whirled until a single thought made him gasp. “Pebble Heart’s dream!”
Thunder moved beside him. “Did he know this would happen?”
“He knew something would happen,” Gray Wing murmured. “He just couldn’t put it into words. This must be it.” As he spoke, a familiar pelt appeared from beneath the great rock. A tortoiseshell crossed the clearing toward him. His heart rose like a bird. “Turtle Tail!”
A kit scampered ahead of her.
“Emberkit?” He reached down his head to meet the tiny tom as it skidded to a halt in front of him.
“Hi, Gray Wing.” The kit glanced around the hollow. “Where’s Wind Runner?”
“I’m here!” The lithe she-cat was already bounding across the clearing. Scrambling to a stop, she stared at her kit. “You’re safe!”
The kit purred. “I have Turtle Tail.”
Wind Runner purred back, sniffing Emberkit’s starry pelt.
Turtle Tail lifted her chin. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she gazed at Gray Wing. “Aren’t you going to say hello?”
Gray Wing fumbled for words. He could hardly believe how well she looked—plump and sleek, her tortoiseshell markings more beautiful than ever. Was she really here, or was he dreaming? The tightness in his chest began to loosen. He drew in a deep gulp of air. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
Thunder pushed past him. “I’m sorry we left you in Twolegplace, Turtle Tail. We should have given you a proper burial.”
Turtle Tail dipped her head. “You left me among the petals where my kits wouldn’t see me. I could ask for no more than that.” She turned to River Ripple. “Thank you for helping them. Without you they might never have found Sparrow Fur, Owl Eyes, and Pebble Heart.” Her mew lingered on their names, her eyes glistening with loss.
Gray Wing’s heart ached—he could not imagine just how much she missed them.
River Ripple dipped his head. “Thunder would have found them,” he murmured. “It might have taken a little longer, that’s all.”
Turtle Tail swung her gaze around the living cats. “You think of River Ripple as just a rogue. But he is more than that. He has an old soul. He walked this land before the mountain cats arrived. He has seen more of life than you think—and what he hasn’t seen, he has the power to imagine.” She turned back to River Ripple. “Did you imagine our coming?”