The Sun Trail Page 6

  “Remember to be careful where you’re putting your paws,” Lion’s Roar advised. “This fresh snow could be hiding all sorts of dangers.”

  I’m not a kit, Gray Wing thought, though he didn’t speak the words aloud. He realized that the elders only wanted to make sure he traveled safely.

  “I wouldn’t want to set off all on my own,” Stone Song confessed, giving Gray Wing a friendly nudge. “You’re a brave cat.”

  Hollow Tree nodded. “We’ll be thinking of you.”

  Gray Wing didn’t feel brave. Now that it was time to leave, his belly churned with apprehension. But he had no choice: Jagged Peak needed him.

  Among the gathered cats, he spotted Dewy Leaf. “Do you want to come?” he asked her. “It’s your last chance to be with Moon Shadow again.”

  Dewy Leaf hesitated, glancing at her rounded belly, then shook her head. “My kits belong in the mountains,” she replied, her tone not bitter, but resigned. “And I think things will be better here now. But when you see Moon Shadow, tell him I hope he’s happy in his new home.”

  “I will,” Gray Wing promised.

  Misty Water nudged her way to the front of the crowd. “Don’t forget the route I showed you,” she meowed. “Over those boulders and around the side of the mountain.”

  “I know.” Gray Wing dipped his head respectfully. “We wouldn’t know where Jagged Peak went, if it wasn’t for you.”

  Misty Water gave a satisfied snort.

  Quiet Rain was the last cat to step forward. “I’ll come with you a little way,” she murmured, giving Gray Wing’s ear a lick.

  With a final farewell to the other cats, Gray Wing led the way out into the open. Quiet Rain padded softly behind him. On the mountainside the dawn light was still gray and dim, the sky covered with clouds, though a gathering brightness on the horizon showed where the sun would rise. A stiff breeze blew loose snow into their faces.

  Together Gray Wing and Quiet Rain climbed the rocks toward the plateau, halting beside the boulders where Jagged Peak had veered aside. “Wait here a moment,” Gray Wing murmured, before scrambling up the rest of the way and heading across to the heap of stones that showed where Fluttering Bird was buried.

  “I don’t know if you can still hear or see me,” Gray Wing whispered, bowing his head, “but I promise I will never forget you.”

  After a couple of heartbeats he turned away and clambered back to his mother. Side by side they skirted the boulders and made their way along the ledge where they had last seen Shaded Moss and his companions.

  Gray Wing had been afraid that the fresh snow would have blotted out the trail, but here and there, in crevices where little snow could reach, he picked up traces of the traveling cats, and Jagged Peak’s fresh scent lying on top.

  “He did come this way,” Quiet Rain mewed, sounding a little encouraged.

  Jagged Peak’s faint scent led them around the flank of the mountain; a shiver ran through Gray Wing from ears to tail-tip as he glanced back, taking one last look at the waterfall. For a little while, their surroundings were still familiar from hunting expeditions, but well before sunhigh they were padding into new territory, where every paw step felt strange.

  The trail began to lead into a valley, and he heard the sound of a river. He halted on the bank with Quiet Rain at his side and looked out across a fierce, tumbling torrent, pouring steeply down the side of the mountain. A cobweb-thin casing of ice stretched from bank to bank, with dark water gurgling along underneath.

  “The ice will only take one cat across,” Quiet Rain mewed. “This is where my journey ends.”

  Though her voice was calm, grief welled up in her eyes, and Gray Wing knew how hard it must be for her to bid good-bye to her last kit. He pressed against her side, twining his tail with hers and parting his jaws to draw in her scent.

  “I’ll find Jagged Peak,” he promised. “And I’ll never let him and Clear Sky forget our home.”

  Quiet Rain let out a long sigh, then nudged him away. “Go quickly,” she told him. “Before the sun rises higher and melts the ice.”

  With a final good-bye, Gray Wing stepped out onto the ice, uncomfortably aware of how fragile it was. If it gave way, the turbulent water would sweep him down the mountain to a certain death on the rocks below. He placed one paw after another cautiously, not daring to stop or look back; he just kept his gaze fixed on the safety of the rocks at the other side.

  Then there was an ominous creaking underpaw.

  Quiet Rain screeched, “Run!”

  Gray Wing sprang forward, hurling himself at the opposite bank. Behind him he heard the ice give way and fall into the river; spray boiled up from the thunderous water, blotting out the firm ground ahead. His forepaws landed on rock just as the ice finally shattered and he felt freezing water surge around his hindquarters. Scrabbling frantically, he dragged himself to safety and whirled, peering through the spray for Quiet Rain on the opposite bank. But the mist had risen between them and he couldn’t see her.

  “I’m alive!” he yowled as loudly as he could.

  For a few heartbeats he ran up and down the bank, trying to get a clear view of his mother, but the water was too fierce, the spray too thick, and every moment he risked losing his balance on the slippery rocks and plunging into the torrent.

  “Good-bye!” he yowled again, hoping that Quiet Rain could hear him. He could hardly bear the thought that she might believe he was dead too. “I won’t forget you, or the mountains!”

  Turning away from the river, Gray Wing tried to work out where he should go next. The sun was only a pale disc behind the clouds, hardly enough to guide him. I’ll just have to hope that Jagged Peak came this way too, he thought.

  By sunhigh, Gray Wing needed to rest. His paws ached. “I’ve never traveled so far in my life,” he muttered as he looked for a sheltered spot. And maybe that’s the problem, he thought. We’ve always hunted close to home. We might have found more prey if we’d spread our search a bit wider. Not that I’ve seen much prey out here . . .

  The breeze stiffened and became an icy wind, swirling up loose snow. Gray Wing dived thankfully into shelter under a split rock. Familiar scents wrapped around him as he flopped down.

  The other cats were here!

  But he couldn’t detect Jagged Peak’s scent among the others. It should be stronger and fresher than the rest, but I can’t pick it up at all.

  He cast his mind back to the iced-over river. Jagged Peak had no experience of walking on ice. Maybe he was too afraid to try.

  Gray Wing wondered if Jagged Peak had headed into the valley instead, trying to find a safer place to cross.

  Determination to find his brother flooded through him. He forced his way into the wind again. There was no fresh snow falling, only sharp flakes tossed up by the gale.

  His fur flattened to his sides, Gray Wing blinked as he peered down into the valley, then up the trail where the other cats had gone. He knew they might be close. . . .

  I can’t go on up the trail without looking for Jagged Peak first.

  Gray Wing plunged down the slope as fast as he could, bounding from boulder to boulder. In his haste he landed clumsily and slipped, letting out a hiss of pain as skin scraped off one of his pads. Agony shot up his leg, but after a few limping paw steps the cold numbed his injury.

  To his relief, the wind dropped as he reached the valley. A broad stretch of ground lay in front of him, riddled with deep-set streams and scattered with boulders. A few stunted trees and bushes poked up through the snow. Feeling hunger gnawing at his belly, Gray Wing stayed alert for signs of prey, as well as traces of Jagged Peak’s scent. But he found nothing of either. All he could see was the body of an old snow hare lying under a bush.

  Disgusting! His nose wrinkled as he sniffed at it. A cat eats fresh prey, not buzzardfood. But with nothing else to quiet his growling belly, he forced himself to bite into the frozen flesh.

  When he could force down no more, his belly feeling chilled and uncomforta
ble, Gray Wing studied the valley. Looking back in the direction he had come, he could see the river crashing down the mountainside, and wondered if Jagged Peak could be behind him now. His little brother might have taken a long time to work his way down among the rocks at the river’s edge.

  Gray Wing began to head up the valley, but it was slow going because he had to wind around so many boulders. Limping and frustrated, he glanced around to find the biggest one and scrambled on top of it.

  From his vantage point he could scan the valley in both directions. There was no sign of Jagged Peak between him and the river, but his brother was small enough to be hidden amongst the boulders.

  Turning to look along the valley in the direction the traveling cats would have headed, Gray Wing saw that it was empty too, except for a flicker of movement above as an eagle swooped from a crag. His gaze tracked its flight closely, trying to spot where its prey was hiding. If it misses, I might be able to catch the prey later, he thought.

  The eagle flung itself down and Gray Wing heard its screech of fury as it came up again empty-clawed. Beneath the screech, Gray Wing thought he could make out a faint yowl.

  His heart slammed into his throat. Jagged Peak?

  Gray Wing leaped from the boulder, ignoring his injured pad as the wound broke open, and raced toward the eagle, which had begun another dive. As he drew closer he saw that the bird was young, with soft feathers around its face and legs.

  Good! That means it’ll be easier to deal with.

  As he scrambled desperately among the rocks, Gray Wing could hear the panic-stricken caterwauling more clearly.

  “Leave me alone! Help!”

  “I’m coming!” Gray Wing yowled in reply. “Hold on!”

  The eagle had alighted on a rock, and was reaching down with one claw, trying to grab Jagged Peak from a narrow crevice below. Gray Wing could just make out the tips of his brother’s ears, and realized that he was trapped in the tiny space.

  I’ll have to distract the eagle so that Jagged Peak can escape.

  Gray Wing sprang forward and crouched in front of the bird, his lips drawn back. The eagle flapped awkwardly around to fix its beady yellow eyes on him. It lunged, squawking. Gray Wing tried to dodge aside, but his injured paw made him stumble. With a stab of panic he felt the bird’s talons fasten in the loose fur at his neck. He thrashed to free himself and fell back among the rocks, but before he could struggle to his paws the eagle beat its mighty wings and grabbed hold of him again.

  “Gray Wing! I’m coming!”

  Gray Wing heard his brother’s shriek and caught a glimpse of Jagged Peak scrambling out of the crack, fearlessly launching himself at the eagle.

  The bird flapped madly against the weight of two cats, and Gray Wing felt himself lifted from the ground. The pain in his neck was shooting through all his body and a red mist covered his eyes. He struggled to stay conscious. Then he felt the eagle let go with one talon to grab at Jagged Peak.

  Hah! he thought. Mistake, greedy-belly!

  He managed to twist around and batter at the eagle’s underbelly with his hind legs. With a screech the bird released him and he plunged downward to hit the rocks with a bone-jarring crash.

  Looking up, Gray Wing saw Jagged Peak hanging on to the eagle’s wing with his claws. “Jagged Peak! Let go!” he yowled.

  Jagged Peak glanced at the ground, then unhooked his claws and fell back onto the stones. The eagle swooped toward them again with another furious screech; with a heartbeat to spare, Gray Wing shoved Jagged Peak into the space between two rocks. They cowered there in the tiny gap while the eagle shrieked overhead.

  Jagged Peak was trembling from pain and fear, looking like nothing more than a kit. Gray Wing curled his body around him and soothed him with long, slow licks.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. I’ve found you.”

  At last the screeching died away and Gray Wing dared to stick his head out of the crack. The sky was clear; the eagle was nowhere to be seen. “Okay, we can leave,” he mewed to Jagged Peak.

  Jagged Peak looked up at him with worried eyes. “What if the eagle’s waiting for us?”

  “It’s not. It’s gone.”

  Gray Wing squeezed into the open and after a moment’s hesitation Jagged Peak followed. He stood quietly, still shaking a little, while his brother checked him over, nosing carefully down one side and then the other.

  “You have a few scratches,” Gray Wing announced at last, with a quiver of relief that it was no worse. “But you’ll be fine.” Anger surged up to replace his anxiety. “What were you thinking, leaving the cave like that, you little fuzz-brain?”

  Recovering rapidly from his fear, Jagged Peak faced him defiantly. “I wanted to go with the others! Quiet Rain had no right to stop me!”

  “She’s your mother,” Gray Wing meowed. “She knows what’s best for you.”

  His eyes narrowing, Jagged Peak retreated a pace. “You haven’t come to take me back, have you?” he asked. “Because I’m not going. I’ll fight you if I have to!”

  Gray Wing had to suppress an amused mrrow at the sight of his little brother, tail lashing and claws out. “Calm down,” he sighed. “I won’t make you go home. We’re going to find the others.”

  Jagged Peak’s eyes widened in surprise. “But you wanted to stay!” he objected.

  “You need me more than they do.”

  Jagged Peak’s shoulder fur fluffed up with renewed indignation. “I’m fine on my own!” he declared.

  “You nearly got carried off by an eagle,” Gray Wing pointed out.

  Jagged Peak waved his tail dismissively. “Well, I found the way down into the valley without falling.”

  Gray Wing realized that there was no point in arguing. “We still have a long way to go before we’re clear of the mountains,” he continued. “Things could get even more dangerous.”

  “We’ll be okay,” Jagged Peak asserted. “We have each other now! And did you see how I fought off that eagle? You’d have been chickfeed if it wasn’t for me!”

  The little cat set off again, bounding over the boulders. Gray Wing followed more slowly; the pain from his neck and torn paw pad stabbing him like sharp thorns. The sun had vanished behind the mountains, and dusk was gathering around them.

  “We need to look for somewhere to shelter!” he called to Jagged Peak.

  His brother halted and turned to look back at him. “I want to keep going,” he mewed obstinately. “The others will be so far ahead by now!”

  “It’s too dangerous to travel in the dark,” Gray Wing insisted. “There are still places to fall, even though we’re in the bottom of the valley. Tomorrow we’ll follow the ledge up there,” he added, pointing with his ears.

  Jagged Peak looked as if he was about to argue, then gave in and dipped his head. Gray Wing led the way to a sheltered spot in a hollow between the roots of a scrubby tree. As he was scraping out some of the gritty earth to make the den bigger, he heard Jagged Peak’s belly growl.

  “Are you hungry? Do you want to hunt?” he asked.

  Jagged Peak shook his head. “I’ll be fine until morning,” he mewed bravely.

  Gray Wing had given up expecting Jagged Peak to apologize for running away, but as they settled down in the hollow the young cat nestled into his fur. “I’m glad you’re here,” Jagged Peak murmured drowsily.

  I guess that’s good enough, Gray Wing thought.

  Gray Wing woke to a cold, gray morning. Through the branches above his head he could see the sky was heavy with clouds, threatening more snow. Jagged Peak was curled into a tight ball with his tail wrapped over his nose, deeply asleep. The journey must be even more exhausting for such a small cat. Listening to his brother’s snuffling breath, Gray Wing had to admit how brave Jagged Peak had been to leave the cave on his own, and to attack the eagle.

  If he’s this determined to find our new home, then I’ll make sure he gets there.

  Soon Jagged Peak stirred and lifted his head, b
linking sleepily. “Where’s Mother?” he asked with a yawn. “Has she gone out hunting?”

  “You’re not in the cave anymore,” Gray Wing reminded him. “You stay here and wake up properly, while I go and see if I can find some prey.”

  Clambering out of the hollow he padded up the valley. Soon he spotted a mouse scuffling around in the debris under a thornbush. At last, some good luck, he thought, springing to kill it.

  When he returned to their makeshift sleeping hollow, he found Jagged Peak sitting on a tree root, grooming himself. The little cat’s eyes brightened as he saw the limp body dangling from his brother’s jaws.

  “You got something!” he exclaimed.

  “Yes, and it’s all for you,” Gray Wing meowed, ignoring his own grumbling belly as he dropped the prey in front of his brother. “You need to keep your strength up.”

  Jagged Peak didn’t need to be told twice. “Thanks!” he mumbled, gulping the prey down in famished bites. His blue eyes sparkled as he swallowed the last mouthful and swiped his tongue around his jaws. “Today’s going to be great!” he exclaimed. “The others will be so surprised when we catch them!”

  Gray Wing murmured agreement as he studied their surroundings, looking for the best route up to the rocky shelf. The clouds seemed thicker than ever, and the air smelled of snow. We need to get up as high as we can, and quickly, he thought. It’s going to snow again, and we might get stuck in drifts.

  There was no obvious track. Gray Wing decided it was best to make straight for the ledge. “This way,” he meowed, waving his tail for Jagged Peak to follow him.

  Once they set out, he found the ground wasn’t as clear as he had hoped. They had to climb over boulders, and once they came to a wide stream chattering over stones. The edges were frozen, but there was a clear channel in the middle. Gray Wing leaped over it, and turned to face Jagged Peak.

  “Jump as far as you can,” he advised. “I’m here, ready to grab you.”

  With a determined expression on his face, Jagged Peak backed away several paw steps, then bounded up to the bank of the stream and launched himself, letting out a squeal as he soared upward with his paws splayed out. He landed on the ice at the far side; Gray Wing heard it start to crack, and grabbed Jagged Peak by the scruff just before he fell into the swiftly running water.