Tear the Trees Apart: Maple's Vengeance

Chapter 6: The Shadows

Maple fought her way out of sleep, coughing and scorched with fever. Where am I? She struggled out of her prickly nest and looked around. A fresh-killed mouse lay beside her, and Maple's belly rumbled. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. She bent down to take a bite, then the memory of where she was and what had happened flooded over her and she retched violently. My kits! Applestem!

"Hello? Are you all right?" an anxious mew made Maple look up. A small dark tom was standing at the foot of the huge stack of hay that filled the den. Daylight filtered through cracks in the wooden walls, highlighting tiny specks of dust that floated in the air.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Maple rasped.

The little cat picked up a bundle of dripping moss that lay at his paws and carried it over to her. "You need to drink," he urged. "My name is Myler, and this is my barn." His voice was soft and gentle. It grated Maple's ears and she flattened them. "You went to sleep so quickly last night that I didn't have time to introduce myself. How are you feeling?" He peered at her and Maple shied away. "You still look exhausted," Myler observed. "Eat the mouse, then I'll let you get some more rest."

"I'm not staying," Maple hissed. "I don't want your fresh-kill."

"But there's plenty to share," Myler insisted. "You really should stay, m-"

Maple staggered forward, almost knocking the tom off his paws. "Leave me alone," she growled. "I don't need your help."

She searched for the gap in the wall where she had come in. Behind her, Myler was meowing something about giving shelter to strangers and having plenty of room in the barn. Maple didn't bother to listen. What could some kittypet possibly give to her? My life is ruined! I did nothing wrong, and yet I have lost everything! The image of her three kits- alone and scared in ThunderColony camp, prisoners of their own kin!- hovered at the edge of her vision, as if she would be able to see them clearly if only she could turn her head fast enough.

"Aren't you listening to me?!" Myler cut across her thoughts. He sounded genuinely upset, like a kit who'd been told off.

"No, leave me alone," Maple snarled, squeezing her way out of the barn, ignoring his shouts.

...

Trembling with hunger, Maple plunged into the wispy undergrowth that edged RiverColony's territory. She stayed well clear of the border as she headed uphill, toward the gorge. She knew there was a wooden Twoleg bridge just below the sheer walls of rock where she would be able to cross back to ThunderColony territory. She felt an irresistible pull inside her, back to the place where she had spent her whole life. There was no solace in the spindly willows of RiverColony, and the vast open moor that stretched up above the gorge made her shudder with fear. Instead she yearned for the denseness of sturdy trees and thick green undergrowth rooting her to the ground, filling her senses with familiar sounds and scents.

Maple reached the wooden bridge and raced across, ears flattened and fur spiked. The noise of the river tumbling below dragged her mind back to the moment she had watched Birch go under the water. She jumped off the bridge onto dry, sandy ground that sloped up toward Four Trees directly in front of her. If she turned and followed the river downstream, she would be in ThunderColony territory. Trying to ignore the sound of the water, she took a few steps toward the boundary, already tasting the scent markers on the still air.

Then she froze. She could not cross the border. She had been driven out—exiled by her own Colonymates. If she took one step into her former home, she would be treated worse than a rogue. She had been exiled. Not Applestem. An image swam into Maple's mind of a black cat, eyes narrowed with suspicion, spouting words that rang with righteous indignation. Frost! This was all her fault. All Frost had to do was follow the warrior's code, like she claimed to, and exile Applestem. Every breath that Frost took was a breath she had denied Birch.