The Blazing Star (24 page)

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Authors: Erin Hunter

BOOK: The Blazing Star
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Lightning Tail turned around, his pelt bristling with irritation. But he said nothing.

“Who is this?” Clear Sky asked his son as the she-cat began padding gracefully down the slope.
She's certainly a beautiful cat,
he thought, admiring her golden tabby fur and her green eyes that shone brilliantly in the fading daylight.

No cat replied until the newcomer reached the bottom of the hollow. “My name is Star Flower,” she purred, giving Clear Sky a polite nod. “I'm a rogue cat looking for a home. And if there's any fighting to be done, I'm a great cat to have on your side. Just ask Thunder. . . .”

Every cat turned to look at Thunder. Clear Sky saw his son shifting about on his paws, looking utterly embarrassed.
So
that's Star Flower!
Clear Sky was unable to stifle his amusement in spite of the serious problems they were facing.
Who would have thought it? Thunder is padding after this pretty she-cat!

But the other cats clearly didn't share his amusement.

“Your help isn't needed,” Lightning Tail meowed, still stiff and bristling. Quickly he drew a paw through the markings Gray Wing had made in the earth, though Clear Sky noticed that Star Flower had already managed to take a quick glance at them.

Star Flower met Lightning Tail's glare. “That's fine,” she mewed smoothly. “I won't stay where I'm not wanted.” She began to move off.

Clear Sky opened his jaws to say something, but Thunder got there first. “Star Flower, come back!” he exclaimed.

The other cats didn't bother to hide their murmurs of surprise.

“What's wrong?” Thunder demanded, rounding on them. “Don't you think we need help right now? Didn't you hear her name? Star Flower! She is the one who told me that the Blazing Star can save us from the sickness. She might know where more is growing, and you want to turn her away?”

Star Flower halted, dipping her head modestly. “I do know a lot about the plants around here,” she purred. “But I think I should leave now. I sense that I'm not entirely welcome.”

“No, don't go!” Thunder begged.

Clear Sky watched as Thunder and Star Flower gazed into each other's eyes. “I'll come back tomorrow,” the rogue she-cat promised. “Maybe by then, things will have had a chance to
calm down.” She turned and padded away.

As he faced the group of cats again, Thunder's eyes blazed with fury, and he flexed his claws angrily. “Thank you for your ‘support,'” he choked out, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“Thunder,” Clear Sky began diplomatically, “these are confusing times. It's hard to know which cat to trust.”

“You trusted One Eye, didn't you?” Thunder spat at him.

“Yes, and look where that got me!” Clear Sky retorted.

Thunder shook his head in disgust, and Clear Sky expected him to race off in pursuit of Star Flower. He was surprised when the young cat showed enough maturity to stay with the group.

“So, what is our plan?” Thunder asked in a grudging tone. “We lure One Eye into the empty space on the moors and . . . what then?”

Gray Wing retraced his markings in the earth and then continued. “I think we should attack from all sides,” he meowed, pointing with his paw as he named each place. “From here, from Wind Runner's home . . . maybe we should see if any of the forest cats will help us.”

“I'll never believe Acorn Fur would willingly support One Eye,” Lightning Tail put in.

“Or Quick Water, either,” Tall Shadow meowed from her place on top of the rock.

“And I'm sure Petal will be on my side,” Clear Sky added.

Gray Wing nodded agreement. “I'll ask River Ripple for his help, too.”

“That could work,” Tall Shadow pronounced from where
she still sat on the rock. “But how do we get One Eye onto the moor in the first place?”

“And without his rogues,” Jagged Peak pointed out. “We can't attack One Eye if he hides behind that mangy lot.”

Clear Sky felt a heavy weight in his belly, as if he had swallowed a rock. He knew that this was his moment to make it up to his friends for all the mistakes he had made. “Which cat does One Eye despise more than any other cat?” he asked. They all stared at him, but no cat dared utter a word, so he answered for them. “Me. One Eye taunted me when we met by the Thunderpath, saying I could never beat him. If he thinks I've challenged him to a one-on-one fight, he's sure to come.

“I'll go out there on my own,” he continued, “but you all need to make it count. If you don't spring out in time, I'm a dead cat.”

“Clear Sky, you can't,” Gray Wing protested. “It's too dangerous.”

But Clear Sky had made up his mind. “I brought One Eye here, and I'll be the one to see him thrown out again. I don't want to die, but I won't stand back and see other cats die, either. Let's drive out One Eye, and then we can tackle this sickness.”

Seeing his friends' nods of assent, and hearing a few murmurs of admiration, Clear Sky allowed a flicker of hope to awaken in his chest.
We're uniting against the rogue,
he thought.
Maybe this is what the spirit-cats meant.

C
HAPTER
21

When the discussion was over, Gray
Wing did not retire to his den. Instead he padded up the slope to the edge of the hollow and sat for a while, gazing at the sky as night fell and the moon appeared, swollen, almost full. Not a cloud could be seen, and the silver shape shed its frosty radiance over the moor, lighting up every rock and blade of grass.

Good,
Gray Wing thought.
I need all the help I can get tonight.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no cat was following him, he headed onto the moor, making his way toward the empty area in the center where he had suggested that Clear Sky should confront One Eye. He intended to use the night to survey the terrain, pick out a good spot for Clear Sky to wait, and make sure there were no nasty surprises lurking.

It's all very well, scratching out battle plans in the earth, but if anything goes wrong it will be my fault. I meant to give the leadership to Thunder,
he added wryly to himself.
And here I am, back in the middle of the trouble.

When the hollow was a good way behind him, Gray Wing began searching for the best place for the fight. He needed an open space that was near to some cover. Outcrops of rock,
dips in the ground, thorn bushes . . . all places where Clear Sky's allies could hide. It would be no good if the cats who were ready to help Clear Sky had no chance of reaching him in time.

Gray Wing was padding around a gorse thicket, working out how many cats could be concealed inside it, when the hot stink of fox hit him in the throat.

Ugh, what a reek!
he thought, stiffening.

There was a tang of blood on the air, too; the creature had killed, and would be on its way back to its den.
And good riddance.

Leaving the gorse thicket, Gray Wing padded off to investigate a tumble of boulders that gleamed eerily white in the moonlight, except where patches of lichen stained the surface.

They cast a deep shadow over the moor, and as Gray Wing stepped into it his paws gave way beneath him. The ground was loose and sandy; he slid down helplessly, paws scrabbling for a grip. From the bottom of the pit something darker than the shadows reared up, and a terrible snarling filled the air.

The fox!

Panic gave Gray Wing extra strength. Digging his claws into the loose earth he forced himself upward. The top of the dip was a tail-length away.

Yeowch!

A sharp pain pierced Gray Wing's hind leg as the fox's teeth met in it, and he was dragged down to the bottom again.

No!
With a yowl of agony and terror Gray Wing struggled to pull away, but the fox's teeth only sank deeper. He
had never felt such excruciating pain, not even in the forest fire. Fierce, hungry eyes gleamed from the darkness as Gray Wing twisted his body and lashed out with his forepaws, trying to sink his claws into his attacker. But the fox didn't let go.

In the midst of the struggle Gray Wing spotted a couple of bats flitting across the face of the moon. Their shadows swept over him. He closed his eyes and thought of the kits he had raised with Turtle Tail.
Will that be the last thing I ever see?

The fox was flinging him to and fro by his hind leg; as Gray Wing thumped against the ground, the breath was driven out of him and he felt the familiar tightness in his chest. His strength was ebbing; there was nothing he could do to save himself.

Then he heard a loud and angry hissing coming from somewhere up above. The fox must have heard it too, and paused for a moment, letting Gray Wing dangle from its jaws. In the brief respite Gray Wing looked up and saw Slate, Wind Runner's friend, peering around the nearest boulder.

“Run!” Gray Wing choked out.

Instead Slate stepped out of cover and circled the top of the dip, her hissing changing to a deep, threatening growl. She didn't seem at all afraid of the fox.

“You think you can fight, flea-pelt?” she taunted it. “Come and try!”

Though the fox couldn't understand her words, the mockery was clear enough. With a snarl of rage it dropped Gray Wing to the floor of the dip. Winded and shaking, Gray
Wing looked up to see the fox leaping up the slope and flinging itself at Slate.

But Slate was faster. Spinning around, she darted away. Gray Wing lost sight of her until he managed to scramble out of the dip. Then he saw her racing for the nearest thorn tree, her tail streaming out behind her.

The fox pursued her more slowly; Gray Wing saw that it was limping, and briefly glimpsed the gleam of exposed bone on its shoulder.

Ah, it's been injured,
he thought.
That must be why it was lurking down there.

Slate reached the thorn tree and leaped into the branches, climbing nimbly to the very top. The moonlight turned her thick, gray pelt to silver and her eyes shone like two tiny moons. The branch swayed beneath her and she balanced there without a trace of fear.

“Oh, aren't you clever!” she teased the fox. “You've trapped me in this tree. I'm
so
scared!”

Even though he was injured and exhausted, Gray Wing could feel laughter bubbling up inside him. The fox looked so frustrated, snarling and scraping at the tree trunk. It couldn't get at Slate, and it must have realized that she could jump down and outpace him anytime she liked.

Creeping cautiously, hampered by the pain in his leg, Gray Wing slid between two of the boulders into a narrow gap where the fox couldn't follow. Turning in the tight space, he settled down to rest and watch what would happen next.

He had to admit, he admired Slate's bravery.
She was attacked
by a fox, and her brother died saving her. But she still risked being attacked again to help me.

For a long time neither Slate nor the fox moved. All Gray Wing could hear was the flutter and squeaking of the bats. Then from farther across the moor he heard the bark of another fox.

Oh, no!
he thought, tensing with fear.
How are we going to cope with two of them?

But to his relief the injured fox staggered to its paws, and when the distant barking was repeated it limped off in the direction of the sound. Slate waited for a few moments after it vanished into the darkness, then jumped down from the tree and headed back toward the boulders.

Gathering his strength, Gray Wing crawled out of his hiding place to meet her. “Thank you!” he exclaimed. “You were great!”

Slate padded past him without a pause and Gray Wing gazed after her. Bemused, she cast a glance over her shoulder. “Follow me!” she called.

Gray Wing did as she told him, trying to get his breathing back under control.
I don't want her to think I'm
totally
pathetic!

Slate led him across the moor until they came to a small, hidden pool surrounded by rushes that bent and swayed in the night breeze with a peaceful rustling sound. The gray she-cat padded out into the water until it covered her paws, breaking up the smooth surface into a silver dazzle.

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