Chapter Three

GHOST BORN OF WINTER made no sound as he padded through the snow, across the wide open ridge of the White Spine Mountains. Up ahead, his littermates Frost and Snowstorm were sleek, dappled shadows darting from rock to rock, pausing to sniff the air or poke their whiskers into a hole in the ground. Ghost sniffed around too, but he couldn’t scent any prey on the icy wind.

He glanced back and paused for a second to let Shiver catch up. His sister was the runt of the litter, and her legs were shorter and her fur thinner than the others, so she always had to run in scampering bursts, stopping to catch her breath often.

“Have they found anything yet?” she whispered as she reached him, shaking the snow off her whiskers. Her spotted head barely reached Ghost’s shoulder.

“Not yet,” he replied.

“Well, maybe we’ll find one first!” Shiver said brightly. She closed her eyes. “Snow Cat, show us your paw prints!”

She opened her eyes and looked around, as if she were expecting to literally see the prints of the Snow Cat leading her to a burrow full of tasty prey.

“Let’s catch up with the other two,” Ghost suggested. Shiver nodded, and they advanced across the snowfield. Despite the size difference, their paces were well matched, with Shiver’s frequent pauses for breath and Ghost’s slower, heavier tread.

Snowstorm and Frost had paused in the lee of a large rock, and Ghost saw Snowstorm turn to look back at them, her tail lashing and ears pricked. She’d found something.

Wait for us, Ghost thought. We’re all supposed to be hunting together. . . .

He put on a burst of speed, but Snowstorm and Frost had already moved on, creeping around the rock and out of sight.

“Mother said they’re not . . . supposed to go too far ahead,” Shiver panted.

Ghost simply nodded. Winter had told them to stick together, and with very good reason. They all needed to get hunting practice if they were ever going to be able to make the leap across the Endless Maw, become adults, and finally move out of their mother’s den.

He glanced up at the towering peaks that rose from the ridge to the north, black and white against the swirling snow. There had been another avalanche only a few nights ago. They’d been safe in their den, but they’d all heard the cracking and rumbling of the white waves of snow as they rolled down the mountain. It was a wonder there were any prey animals left living among the White Spines—but then, Ghost supposed they were just like him and the other snow leopards. They didn’t want to leave the place they’d always called home.

Ghost and Shiver hurried around the rock and found Snowstorm and Frost on the other side of it. Snowstorm flicked her tail at them again.

“See it?” she hissed. “Right there!”

Ghost peered through the snow, and, sure enough, there was a flicker of brown beside a pile of gray rocks, half buried in a snowdrift. The brown ears of a mountain hare. It was large and tough-looking.

“We should sneak around and pounce from the rocks,” Frost said, and set off at a fast creep, his body so low to the ground he left a trail of disturbed snow behind. Ghost tried to follow him, but his broader shoulders and stocky legs made it hard to slink. So instead he focused on staying quiet, placing his paws carefully, and letting the snow muffle his movement.

Shiver raced ahead, but she couldn’t catch up with her faster littermates, who had already circled around in a wide arc and begun to climb up the rock on silent paws. The hare never saw or heard them coming. They sprang, first Snowstorm and then Frost, and trapped the creature under their paws. But the hare was surprisingly strong, and it wriggled and kicked in their grip. Its powerful back leg struck Frost under the chin, sending him reeling back.

“Ugh! Stay still, you little—Ghost, come and help me!” Snowstorm growled through a mouthful of writhing fur. Ghost put his head down and charged toward them. He might not have been very good at stealth and speed, but it felt good to unleash his power. He put a heavy paw down on the hare to hold it still, and finished it off with one clean, powerful bite to the back of the neck, just like Winter had taught him.

“We did it!” Shiver panted, catching up behind them. Ghost saw Snowstorm and Frost exchange a look, and hoped they wouldn’t say anything mean to their sister. Shiver would have been able to catch her own prey if they’d let her go first instead of rushing off ahead.

“Let’s eat,” Frost said instead, licking his lips. “Mother said we should eat if we caught something.”

Snowstorm reared back and batted playfully at the air around his ears. “Not yet, stupid. We’ve got to thank the Snow Cat first.”

Shiver sat down between them and kneaded the snow with her paws. “We thank the Snow Cat for giving us this prey,” she began, and the other three leopards joined in.

“May you leave your paw prints in the snow, that we may follow them,” they said together.

Snowstorm, Frost, and Shiver immediately fell upon the hare and tucked in, delighted. Ghost knew he needed to eat too. They often went for several days without fresh prey, and his stomach was rumbling at the idea of feeling full again. He tore mouthfuls of stringy flesh from the hare and gobbled them down as quickly as he could.

For a while there were no sounds but the chewing and purring of four hungry cubs, and even those were muffled by the falling snow.

Then a yowl split the air behind them. Ghost spun around, kicking up a flurry around his paws, and saw two spotted shapes emerging from behind another rock. Two more leopard cubs, a little younger than Ghost and his littermates. His heart sank as he recognized them.

“Look, Sleet,” one of them said. “It’s the freaks Born of Winter.”

Ghost let out a rumbling growl as Brisk and Sleet Born of Icebound padded toward them.

“This isn’t your territory,” Frost snarled, licking his muzzle. “Get out of here, or we’ll make you.”

“Ooh, are you going to set your freak brother on us?” Brisk tilted her head. “Or your weak little sister?”

Shiver started to stalk toward them, her teeth bared. “Try me!” she growled.

“Is Ghost even here?” Sleet mewed, turning around in fake confusion while still casting mean looks right at Ghost. “Where is the big white-furred weirdo?”

Ghost tried to ignore Sleet’s teasing, but he couldn’t help feeling self-conscious, treading the snow uneasily with his perfectly white paws. He knew there was nothing wrong with being larger than his littermates, or with having no spots, but Sleet and Brisk certainly seemed to think there was.

“That’s it.” Snowstorm leaped, bounding right over Ghost’s back to land in the snow in front of Brisk and Sleet. “I’m going to make you pay for that.”

Ghost and Frost hurried to back her up, and Ghost opened his jaws and let his deep growl out as a roar. Brisk and Sleet both flinched, and Snowstorm and Frost joined in with the roar as they advanced on the two cubs Born of Icebound.

Ghost felt a flush of warmth envelop him as he stood side by side with his littermates, and Brisk and Sleet began to back off.

“What, don’t you want to fight?” Shiver snapped.

“What kind of cowards are you?” Frost backed her up.

“Afraid to face a family of freaks?” Ghost leaped, jaws open, and snapped his teeth together just a few paw-lengths short of Brisk’s nose. The cub whimpered, and the two littermates slid and scrambled back, turned tail, and fled across the snowfield.

“Yeah, don’t come back here!” Shiver yelled after them.

Snowstorm shook her head. “They’re such idiots.”

“If they wanted our hare, they shouldn’t have announced themselves,” Frost said, behind Ghost. “They should have crept up on us . . . like this!”

Ghost ducked, but just slightly too late. Frost tumbled over his shoulders and landed on his back in the snow, but his paws still held on to Ghost’s thick neck, and he pulled Ghost’s head down and landed a playful gnaw on his ear.

Ghost reared up in mock fury. “Then we would have had them just where we wanted them!” He brought his paws down and batted at Frost’s exposed stomach. He was extra careful not to hit him—Ghost knew his claws didn’t pull back like the others, but Winter had taught him how to play safely with his littermates, and Frost didn’t flinch as the black talons scraped the air above him.

“Yeah, it’d be four against two!” Shiver said, and pounced on Snowstorm’s tail. Snowstorm gave a fake wail of agony and batted Shiver across the back of the head. Shiver fell back, her paws spread exaggeratedly wide, and Snowstorm went in for the kill, pressing her nose into the fluff under her sister’s chin, making Shiver giggle and splutter.

The four of them rolled and laughed in the snow, and Ghost felt that warmth spread through him again, even though his paws were getting frozen and the wind whipped fiercely around them. He and Shiver might not be the greatest hunters, but when it came down to it, the cubs Born of Winter would stick together, no matter what.