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away.
    Gray Wing felt a rumble of laughter rising in his throat. Thunder might be a big, strong leader of cats, he thought, but in other ways he’s still very young.

C HAPTER 5

    Clear Sky paused beneath an arching clump of ferns, and took in a long breath of the cool morning air. Since the first visit from the spirit-cats, there was no need to patrol his boundaries anymore, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest in the dim light of dawn. And since the second visit from the spirit-cats the night before, he wanted time to ponder their message.
    The Blazing Star. Could it be the sun? Clear Sky wondered, padding onward through the undergrowth, the dew-laden grasses brushing his pelt. But no — how could any cat use the sun as a weapon?
    Deep in thought, he didn’t realize at first how far his paws were taking him, until he caught a familiar acrid tang at the back of his throat, and heard a distant rumble.
    The Thunderpath!
    Clear Sky halted, then turned back toward his own camp, his fur bristling. I certainly don’t want to go there!
    The harsh reek of monsters faded, but Clear Sky’s nose twitched as he picked up another scent. There was a cat in the forest—one he didn’t recognize—and as the scent gradually strengthened he realized it was drawing closer to him.
    Every hair on Clear Sky’s pelt prickled with suspicion. Is thisa sneak attack? But the strange cat was moving too clumsily for that; Clear Sky could see the tops of the ferns waving as the cat blundered forward, making no attempt at quiet.
    Clear Sky hesitated a heartbeat longer, then leaped up into the nearest tree and crouched on a low branch, half-hidden by a clump of leaves.
    A moment later a ginger tom emerged from the undergrowth and started sniffing around the roots of the tree. Now that he was so close, Clear Sky’s belly turned over at the stench that was rising from him.
    A kittypet—and one he had seen before, slinking through the forest with some kits.
    Clear Sky waited until the tom turned to pad away, then rose to his paws and took a pace farther along the branch, into the open. “You again! What do you want here?” he demanded.
    The kittypet reared back in alarm, then crouched to the ground, laying his ears back. “My name is Tom. I—I don’t mean any harm,” he stammered. “I’ve been wandering around in the forest for a while, and I noticed the cats are forming into . . . groups.”
    Clear Sky twitched his ears. “And?”
    â€œI like the sound of that,” Tom went on. “Cats working together, helping each other to find shelter and prey. It’s got to be much better than working alone, scrounging for scraps while hoping it doesn’t rain too hard. I was wondering if . . . well, if your group might have room for one more?”
    Clear Sky studied the ginger tom closely. He wasn’t entirely convinced by the kittypet’s speech or his cringing manner. “I can see the marks on your neck where you wore your Twolegcollar,” he meowed. “And your round belly. You must have had a few easy meals lately.”
    Tom gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “I once lived with Twolegs,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I’ve since returned to the wild.”
    â€œReturned?” Clear Sky challenged him.
    Tom rolled his eyes. “All right, not ‘returned’ exactly. This is my first time living in the wild. But it feels like I’m returning . . . to my real home.”
    Clear Sky let out a snort of laughter. “Oh, I feel so sorry for you! It must have been hard, living in the warm and dry of a Twoleg den when your spirit was craving the cold, wet, and hunger of the wild!”
    Studying Tom afresh, Clear Sky noticed that his pelt did look a bit ragged in places. Though he still had the stench of Twolegs on him, it was believable that he had been living like a real cat for a little