Dawn

  “We can’t leave the forest!” Frostfur had wailed. “We’ll all die.”

  “We’ll die if we stay!” Sorreltail had pointed out.

  “But this is our home.” Speckletail’s rasping mew had cracked as she’d raised her voice.

  At least Shrewpaw had sounded eager. “When are we going?” he’d asked.

  But the memory of Hollykit’s piteous mew made Squirrelpaw’s pelt prickle even now. “We don’t have to go, do we?” the kit had cried.

  “What if Dustpelt is right?” Squirrelpaw hissed to Brambleclaw as they leaped over an abandoned foxhole, a yawning black mouth amid the shadows. “What he said in the den made sense—why should any cat follow the advice of a badger they’d never met?”

  “But StarClan sent us to see Midnight,” Brambleclaw argued. “What Midnight told us must be true.”

  Squirrelpaw guessed he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

  “We just have to hope that we see the sign at Fourtrees tonight,” she said. “If StarClan has something to say to the Clan—to any of the Clans—it’s not up to us to prove it.” She trembled to think what Midnight had meant by ‘a dying warrior,’ but if the sign told them what to do next, they might still be able to save the Clans.

  Their journey to Fourtrees took longer than usual, not just because of the slow pace but because they had to skirt the parts of the forest that the Twolegs had ruined, keeping low as they passed swath after swath of mud and felled trees. After a while, Squirrelpaw stopped looking at the empty, ravaged spaces.

  “How can any cat think this is still our home?” she murmured.

  Brambleclaw just shook his head and padded after Firestar towards the top of the slope that led down into Fourtrees.

  For a moment, it felt like the start of every other Gathering Squirrelpaw had attended, and when she closed her eyes she could almost hear the murmur of cats below, sharing tongues as the four Clans met in peace under the full moon. But there was no full moon, and this was not a Gathering. Her eyes snapped open, and she peered over the crest of the rise. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, her breath caught in her throat. Even though Cinderpelt had warned them that the Twolegs had cut down the four great oak trees, Squirrelpaw hadn’t let herself imagine what it would look like. Not in nine lifetimes could she have imagined anything as terrible as what she saw now.

  The four giant oaks that had once guarded the Great Rock had completely disappeared; even their stumps had been torn from the ground. Their trunks lay in pieces, neatly sliced by giant claws. Squirrelpaw could smell the bitter sap that seeped like blood from each mutilated piece of wood.

  The heart of the forest—and the roots of life for the four Clans—had been ripped out. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  Squirrelpaw wondered how their warrior ancestors could bear to look down from Silverpelt at the ruined clearing. “Webfoot told us they had destroyed Fourtrees, but I didn’t think . . .” Her voice trailed away as her father looked at her, sympathy in his eyes.

  “Come on,” he hissed, leading them down the slope.

  As she picked her way over the sliced trees, sticky sap clung to Squirrelpaw’s fur, and tree dust wafted up to sting her eyes and tickle her throat. Blinking, she scanned the clearing, then stared in disbelief. “The Great Rock is gone!”

  Brambleclaw stopped dead and followed her gaze. “How could that happen?” he gasped. He bounded over to peer into the huge hole that gaped where the rock had once stood.

  “I-I thought it had roots like a tree,” Squirrelpaw murmured dazedly, looking down into the hole. “I thought they reached down so far that nothing could ever move it.”

  “Over here!” Firestar called from the side of the clearing.

  He and Cinderpelt were standing almost belly-deep in the mud beside a vast grey stone. It looked clumsy and awkward, and the shape was unfamiliar—after a few moments, Squirrelpaw realised it was upside down—but it was definitely the Great Rock.

  Brambleclaw thrashed his tail. “Twolegs did this!” he spat. “They must have used their monsters to move it.”

  In the cold, unfeeling moonlight, Squirrelpaw could see gouge marks scarring the rock where the monster’s talons had scratched it. This was worse than losing every single tree in the forest; every cat knew that trees were living things that grew old and died just like they did, but the Great Rock had been there for moons upon moons before the cats came, and should have lasted for uncountable moons more.

  A harsh voice rang out across the clearing. “There will be no more Gatherings now.” Squirrelpaw recognised Blackstar’s meow, and shadowy movements on the logs around them told her what the scent of the sap had disguised—that the other cats were here already. Remembering Mousefur’s dire warnings of an ambush, she looked closely in the half-light and spotted, with a twinge of relief, Tawnypelt, Crowpaw, and Stormfur among them.

  “Tawnypelt!” Brambleclaw ran over to welcome his sister. Squirrelpaw heard a disapproving growl rumble in Firestar’s throat, and her paws pricked with frustration. How could he question their loyalty when he knew they were only working together to save the Clans?

  Each cat had brought their leader and medicine cat. But Squirrelpaw felt a jolt of surprise when she saw that two other cats had joined them: Mudfur, the elderly RiverClan medicine cat, had brought his apprentice, Mothwing, and Mothwing’s brother, Hawkfrost, had come too. Squirrelpaw recognised them from Leafpaw’s descriptions. The dark brown tom wasn’t looking at the Great Rock but was watching the other cats, his ice-blue eyes expressionless in the moonlight.

  “It cannot be true!” Mudfur hissed, staring at the Great Rock. Every hair on his pelt stood on end, and his tail quivered like a near-dead mouse. Mothwing tried to calm him with rapid licks on his shoulder, but he did not stop shaking. Cinderpelt picked her way awkwardly across the logs, her injured leg barely touching the ground, and pressed her body against his.

  Squirrelpaw followed her father as he joined the other cats at the bottom of the Great Rock. She glanced at Crowpaw, Stormfur, and Tawnypelt, desperate to know how their Clans had received them, but they stood silently beside their leaders.

  “How will we climb it now?” Tallstar asked, his voice trembling as he stared up the sheer rock face towering above them. Even half-hidden in shadow, the black-and-white WindClan leader looked so frail that Squirrelpaw was surprised he had managed the journey here at all.

  “These marks will give us a grip,” Leopardstar said, stretching her forepaws up the smooth rock to where the monsters’ talons had scraped long wounds into the hard stone.

  She pushed her hind paws into the mud and scrabbled upward. Blackstar clawed his way after her to the top of the rock. He looked strong and determined, but his dull black pelt hung from his bony frame as he climbed. Tallstar watched them, his thin frame seeming smaller than ever.

  “I’ll follow you,” Firestar offered.

  Tallstar nodded and scrambled up towards the lowest gouge mark, clinging to the slippery rock with his claws. Firestar sprang after him, propping the WindClan leader with his shoulder to stop him sliding back down again.

  “Shouldn’t we climb the Great Rock too, to see Midnight’s dying warrior?” Squirrelpaw whispered as the leaders disappeared over the top and the medicine cats went around to the other side.

  “I don’t think it matters who sees it,” Brambleclaw answered, but his eyes were clouded with worry.

  “She didn’t say it had to be us,” Stormfur chipped in. “She just said ‘stand on the Great Rock.’”

  “At least we have a chance to talk now,” Tawnypelt murmured. “Blackstar says he is ready to leave the forest.”

  Squirrelpaw blinked. “Really? That’s great!” She wished her own homecoming had been so straightforward. “Firestar hasn’t decided yet.”

  Tawnypelt flicked her ears. “To be honest, I think Blackstar had already decided to go, even before I came back with Midnight’s warning.”

  “But what did he say when you
told him? Did he believe you?” Squirrelpaw demanded.

  The tortoiseshell warrior didn’t reply.

  Brambleclaw pressed closer to his sister. “Did they give you a hard time?”

  Tawnypelt shook her head. “They acted like I was a stranger.” Sadness glimmered in her eyes. “Tallpoppy’s kits were frightened of me.”

  “It wasn’t easy for us either,” Squirrelpaw mewed. “It’s as if we’re not part of the Clan any more.”

  “Of course we’re part of the Clan,” Brambleclaw reassured her. “It’ll just take a while for things to get back to normal.”

  Stormfur snorted. “Nothing’s ever going to get back to normal!” he spat. “I’ve seen what the Twolegs have done to WindClan and ThunderClan territory, and I can imagine it’s the same in ShadowClan.” He glanced at Tawnypelt, and she nodded grimly. “Even though they haven’t reached RiverClan territory yet, everything’s changed,” Stormfur went on, lashing his tail. “Mistyfoot’s gone missing, and Hawkfrost is deputy now.”

  “Mistyfoot’s missing?” Squirrelpaw gasped.

  “Was she taken by Twolegs?” asked Brambleclaw.

  Stormfur looked puzzled. “Why would Twolegs take her?”

  “They took Leafpaw!” Squirrelpaw told him. “We know what happened because Sorreltail was there, although she got away.”

  “Gorsetail’s missing too,” Crowpaw mewed, his gaze flicking from one cat to another.

  “No ShadowClan cats have been taken, but I’d guess it’s only a matter of time,” Tawnypelt mewed. “And meanwhile the Twolegs have invaded so much of our territory that we’re starving. There’s hardly any prey left, and leaf-bare’s only just begun.”

  Brambleclaw sat down carefully on the muddy ground. “Whether it’s Midnight’s message or starvation that drives the Clans out, I don’t see any way we can stay in the forest.”

  “But the Twolegs haven’t touched RiverClan territory,” Stormfur reminded him. “And Hawkfrost thinks they never will. He pretty much called me a traitor for being concerned about the other Clans, and he said I should never have gone on the journey.” His amber eyes glistened with sadness. “He said Feathertail would still be alive if I hadn’t let her get caught up in other Clans’ problems.”

  “It wasn’t the journey that killed Feathertail. It was staying with the Tribe so long,” hissed Crowpaw.

  Stormfur flinched and looked down at his paws.

  “We had to help them!” Squirrelpaw stared at Crowpaw, puzzled. She had found him arrogant and impatient at the start of the journey, but he had become much easier to be around as they travelled, and by the end of their adventure she would have considered him one of her closest friends. Now he was as prickly as ever. Did their journey, the importance of the message they all had to take to their Clans, mean nothing to him?

  “Crowpaw?” Brambleclaw meowed. “What did WindClan say when you told them?”

  “They accepted Midnight’s words without question,” he muttered. “It’s our last hope of survival.” His voice was flat and dull, like stone. “I didn’t think the Clan could be suffering any more than when I left, but it is. There’s nothing left to eat on the moors at all. A bird if we’re lucky. Sometimes a mouse, just one to feed the whole Clan. WindClan kits have never gone hungry like this before.”

  “So Tallstar wants to leave?”

  Crowpaw lifted his eyes and met Brambleclaw’s gaze. “Oh, yes,” he agreed. “He wants the Clan to go as soon as we can. His greatest fear”—he broke off and swallowed—“his greatest fear is that we’re not strong enough to make it.”

  “Oh, Crowpaw!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed, immediately forgiving his harsh words to Stormfur. “I’m so sorry.”

  “We don’t need your pity,” growled the WindClan apprentice. “I will fight with all the strength I have to make sure my Clan survives.” He glared at her, his eyes cold.

  Squirrelpaw felt a surge of anger rise in her belly. “What are you talking about? You’re acting as if you’re the only one who can save your Clan! Don’t you remember that we’re in this together? Or have you forgotten there were six of us on that journey?”

  “Squirrelpaw!” Brambleclaw stopped her with a flick of his tail. “We mustn’t fight now.”

  Squirrelpaw grumpily fell silent. Crowpaw looked away, but he flexed his claws, tearing at the cold earth.

  Tawnypelt gazed up at the rock. There was no sign of their leaders. They were hidden behind the brow of the rock’s towering summit. “Everything would be easier if we knew where we were meant to be going,” she mewed. “Do you think the sign will come?”

  “Perhaps we’re too late,” murmured Stormfur. “We were a long time in the mountains.” He glanced at Crowpaw. “Believe me, I wish we hadn’t stayed.”

  “We all agreed at the time,” Brambleclaw reminded him.

  Crowpaw stared at his paws without saying anything.

  There was a yowl from above them, and Firestar’s call rang around the hollow. “We should wait awhile longer!”

  “Why? What’s the point?” growled Blackstar. His bony frame appeared, silhouetted against the stars, on the edge of the rock. “We have wasted our time coming here. There will be no sign tonight. And do we really need one to tell us that the forest is being destroyed? Just look around you!”

  Squirrelpaw and the others backed away as the ShadowClan leader bounded down the rock and landed in the mud beside them. Leopardstar followed him.

  “But it’s not even moonhigh!” Firestar protested, peering down from the top of the rock.

  Leopardstar looked up at him. “Even if StarClan does send a sign about leaving the forest, it’s no concern of RiverClan’s,” she meowed.

  However frustrated she was by Leopardstar’s selfishness, Squirrelpaw could understand why she wasn’t as troubled as the other leaders. Her glossy coat proved that she and her Clanmates were as well fed as ever, and their sleep wasn’t disturbed by fear of monsters snarling and munching their way into the camp.

  “Hunger will soon make her change her mind,” Crowpaw hissed.

  “But surely you want to see what StarClan thinks we should do?” Firestar argued.

  “It’s too cold to wait any longer,” meowed Blackstar. “My fur is thinner than I’d like these days—and that’s not a sign from StarClan. It’s the fault of those fox-hearted Twolegs stealing my Clan’s prey.”

  “You can’t leave yet!” Firestar yowled as the ShadowClan leader clambered away over the logs.

  “There’ll be no sign here tonight,” Blackstar called over his shoulder. “Look at this place! It’s ruined.”

  “StarClan will not desert us!” Firestar leaped down from the rock and scrambled awkwardly over the logs to the ShadowClan leader.

  Blackstar faced him, his pelt bristling. “I did not say StarClan had deserted us! But my Clan would rather rely on their leader’s judgment than on the muddled rumours of some inexperienced warriors and a badger.”

  “But StarClan is going to show us the way!” Tallstar slithered over the edge of the Great Rock, half scrambling, half falling down its side. Crowpaw leaped forwards, reaching up with his forepaws to soften his landing. Tallstar hit the mud clumsily but staggered to his paws, shaking Crowpaw off. “They will know where we can find new territories, far away from these dangers,” he insisted.

  “We are perfectly capable of finding a new home for ourselves.” There was a chilling certainty in Blackstar’s words.

  “You have somewhere in mind already, don’t you?” Cinderpelt looked up from where she crouched beside Mudfur.

  “We are going to live in Twolegplace where BloodClan used to rule,” he announced. “I still have one of their former warriors among my elders. He will show us the best places to find food and shelter. Now Scourge is dead, we’ll be the strongest cats there.”

  “You can’t do that!” Firestar protested. “That will leave only three Clans in the forest!”

  “Soon there won’t be a forest,” Blackstar pointed out grimly
. “Only the bodies of dead cats. This is one battle in which I cannot see how it would help us to join with other Clans. It’s not a matter of fighting an enemy, but of finding enough prey to feed the mouths we already have. I’m sorry, but we go alone.”

  He turned to leave, but Firestar stood in his way. Blackstar curled his lip to reveal sharp teeth.

  “We can’t let them fight!” Squirrelpaw hissed to Brambleclaw.

  “I know,” he agreed. He leaped over the logs to Firestar’s side. “Firestar, you have to persuade ShadowClan to come with us! That’s what StarClan wants. If there isn’t a sign, like Midnight said, then we should go back to the sun-drown-place and ask her if she knows where we should go.”

  “You want us to go to a strange place just because you think StarClan sent you there?” Leopardstar snarled. “Since when do you make decisions for all the Clans?” Her gaze swept over Squirrelpaw, Tawnypelt, and Stormfur. “In fact, why should we trust any of you? You are all part ThunderClan!”

  Tawnypelt unsheathed her claws. “Are you questioning my loyalty to my Clan?”

  “My sister died on the journey to fetch this message!” Stormfur hissed.

  Squirrelpaw wondered if StarClan was watching them and thinking that these quarrelsome Clans didn’t deserve to be saved.

  “Stop!” rasped a feeble voice, and Tallstar padded unevenly over. “If we fight, the sign will never come!”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? We don’t need a sign,” growled Blackstar. “ShadowClan is going to leave the forest, and we already know where to go.”

  Firestar didn’t argue with him. Instead, he turned to Leopardstar. “What do you plan to do?”

  “RiverClan has no need to travel to some distant place on the word of a few dreaming warriors,” Leopardstar replied. “The river is still full of fish. It would be stupid for us to leave. The other Clans’ troubles are not ours to worry about.”

  “But if our troubles are not yours as well, why was Feathertail sent by StarClan with the other cats?” Cinderpelt challenged quietly.