Page 15 of Hawkwing's Journey


  Leafstar was already awake, emerging from her den and stretching her jaws in a long caterwaul before racing down the trail just ahead of Hawkwing.

  A quick glance over his shoulder showed Hawkwing that his Clanmates were following, fully roused now and shrieking defiance. Sharpclaw was in the lead, his paws hardly touching the rocks as he hurled himself toward his Clan’s enemies.

  Yes! Hawkwing thought with a touch of pride. My father will fight them off!

  He couldn’t spot Darktail, and briefly wondered where the rogue tom was, but there was no time to think about that now.

  Pebblepaw and Parsleypaw bundled out of the apprentices’ den, their eyes wide and their fur bushing up. Bellapaw and Rileypaw followed.

  “Stay back!” Hawkwing snapped. “This is no place for apprentices.”

  “Fox dung to that!” Pebblepaw hissed through clenched teeth, as the four young cats fell in behind Hawkwing.

  They’re all so brave! Hawkwing couldn’t help but be impressed, even while he felt that the apprentices would have been safer in their den.

  A shriek sounded from the bottom of the gorge, abruptly cut off. Every drop of Hawkwing’s blood seemed to freeze. Stormheart!

  With a final massive leap, Hawkwing slammed into the rear of the rogue attack. For a few moments he struggled with fur pressing in on him from every side, unable to get any strength behind his blows. He thrust at the bodies surrounding him, finally managing to win a little space for himself. At last he could attack, his paws splayed out, his claws slashing in a hot surge of fury, as he struck out at random, not knowing or caring who his enemies were.

  Then a face loomed up in front of him, and he recognized the ginger tom he had fought when Waspwhisker’s patrol were setting the border markers.

  “Oh, you again!” the ginger tom snarled. “You want to finish what we started?”

  “Mange-pelt!” Hawkwing snarled, raking his claws across the ginger tom’s muzzle. “Get out of our camp!”

  The tom staggered back, clearly startled at Hawkwing’s swift response. Hawkwing felt a grim satisfaction as he saw dark drops welling out of the wound he had made, and the reek of blood hit him in the throat.

  He ducked as the ginger tom swept his forepaw around in a blow aimed at his shoulder; the rogue cat’s claws passed harmlessly through his fur, and Hawkwing managed to butt his head into the tom’s belly, unbalancing him.

  Another rogue—a black-and-white tom—pressed forward into the gap between Hawkwing and his opponent, his claws reaching for Pebblepaw, who was still fighting at Hawkwing’s side. Instinctively Hawkwing slipped in front of the apprentice, shielding her as he dug his claws into the black-and-white tom’s shoulder.

  “Get out of here!” he gasped to Pebblepaw.

  The young she-cat didn’t even bother to reply. Instead, she leaped at the rogue tom on the other side and raked her claws along his flank. The tom let out a screech and backed off, disappearing into the fray.

  Hawkwing felt furious with Pebblepaw, terrified and proud all at once. They exchanged a glance, Hawkwing gave her a nod of acknowledgment, then both cats sprang back into the battle.

  The first heaving bundle of fighting cats had begun to split up into separate skirmishes straggling alongside the river. In a brief respite, Hawkwing saw that his Clanmates were holding their own, even though they were outnumbered by the band of rogues.

  If only we had our daylight warriors! he thought. Then a sudden realization hit him. The rogues must have been watching us. They must have known that the Twolegs were keeping our Clanmates inside because of the raccoons!

  He noticed too that clouds were building up overhead, blotting out the stars. The moon gleamed fitfully through the gaps. The air was heavy and damp, and Hawkwing felt the first fat drops of rain spatter onto his pelt.

  He had lost sight of Pebblepaw, and as he glanced around, desperately trying to spot her, he saw Sandynose near the foot of the cliff, pinned down by an enormous tabby rogue, who slashed his claws again and again over the Clan cat’s shoulders. Sandynose was writhing furiously in an effort to throw him off.

  Hawkwing hurled himself across the ground and barreled into the side of the tabby tom, flinging him against the rock face. The tabby let out a yelp of pain, all the breath driven out of him. Before he could recover, Hawkwing scored his claws down his hindquarters, and drove him off, yowling, into the night.

  “Thanks!” Sandynose gasped, staggering to his paws, then bounding off to where Waspwhisker was tussling with a skinny tortoiseshell rogue.

  In the darkness and the rain—growing heavier with every heartbeat—it was becoming harder to distinguish the Clan cats from the rogues. Hawkwing spotted a ginger tom racing toward him and whirled around, one forepaw raised to strike.

  “Hey, it’s me!”

  Hawkwing recognized Bouncefire’s voice, and lowered his paw. “Sorry.”

  Beyond Bouncefire, Hawkwing made out the pale pelt of Darktail. “This way,” the white tom meowed, angling his ears toward a cluster of the invading rogues who were battling Tinycloud, Rabbitleap, and Harrybrook at the very edge of the river.

  Hawkwing sprang forward with Bouncefire next to him, and Darktail on the ginger tom’s other side. A rogue cat leaped into their path to stop them, but Hawkwing pushed him aside with one swipe of his claws.

  With Bouncefire and Darktail beside him, Hawkwing suddenly felt more optimistic. We can win this battle!

  Another rogue hurtled toward them, closest to Darktail; Hawkwing held off, expecting that the white tom would throw himself into the attack. Instead, Darktail whipped around, letting the rogue race past unscathed.

  “Darktail . . . what—?” Hawkwing began.

  Darktail ignored him. With a snarl of mingled fury and triumph, he sank his claws into Bouncefire’s neck.

  Sheer shock kept Hawkwing frozen for a moment. Bouncefire too was so astonished that for a couple of heartbeats he was unable to defend himself. In that moment Darktail threw himself on top of the ginger tom, pinning him to the ground and tearing at his throat. Blood gushed out; Bouncefire’s legs jerked spasmodically and then he went limp.

  “Darktail!” Hawkwing choked out. “What are you doing?”

  Darktail didn’t reply. For a moment he stood motionless over Bouncefire’s body, his jaws still red with the ginger tom’s blood.

  He looks like a killer, Hawkwing thought in a whirl of confusion and grief. Who is this cat?

  Darktail spun around again and flung himself into the tussle beside the river, aligning himself to fight on the side of the rogues. Hawkwing forced his paralyzed limbs into motion and bounded after him as a horrible realization washed over him.

  “Traitor!” he yowled. “Traitor! I trusted you!”

  Was it all lies? If Darktail was fighting on the side of the rogues, then clearly he’d never been a true friend to SkyClan. What else had he lied about? Knowing the other Clans? The quests? Hawkwing’s blood ran cold when it suddenly occurred to him that Darktail must have been planning this attack—manipulating SkyClan as he and his rogue friends prepared for it. Was every moment he spent here part of some twisted plan?

  He thought again of the Twoleg food and thought he might be sick. He was up to something. . . .

  Spotting Hawkwing, the white tom stepped aside from the combat and waited calmly as Hawkwing drew closer and closer. He seemed as confident as if he was about to slam his paws down on a mouse.

  I’ll claw that smug look off his face!

  But just as Hawkwing’s claws were reaching for Darktail, a heavy body slammed into him from one side. His paws skidded and he fell, to find himself looking up into the face of the silver-gray tom who had led the trespassing patrol the day before.

  How long has Darktail known these rogues? Hawkwing wondered. How long has he been planning this? From the moment he first showed up?

  The gray tom swooped down on him, aiming for his throat. Hawkwing’s foreleg flashed upward and he planted his paw in the tom’s face
, digging his claws into his muzzle as he pushed his head back.

  The rogue cat let out a screech, batting Hawkwing’s paw away and thumping down on top of him, almost smothering him. He tried to bring up his hind paws to batter at his enemy, but the tom was too heavy for him to shift.

  Twisting from side to side in his struggle to escape, Hawkwing spotted his father, Sharpclaw, battling fiercely with two rogue cats: the long-furred black she-cat from the previous day’s patrol, and a mottled black-and-gray tom. In spite of his own peril Hawkwing had to admire his father as Sharpclaw whirled from one rogue to the other, beating both of them back toward the water’s edge.

  As Hawkwing watched, Leafstar appeared out of the darkness and slashed her claws at the she-cat, who whipped around and fled. Sharpclaw gave the mottled tom a shove; the rogue tottered for a heartbeat on the very edge of the river, then fell into the torrent with a shriek and disappeared.

  Hawkwing wanted to let out a yowl of triumph for his father, but the gray tom had clamped a paw down on his neck, and he could hardly breathe.

  Then to his horror he saw Darktail sneaking up behind Sharpclaw, his belly pressed to the ground as if he was stalking prey. Hawkwing made a massive effort to call out a warning, but the feeble choking sound was all he could manage, and it was lost in the clamor of the battle. He felt a hot stickiness in his throat, as if this were a nightmare where he could only watch the terrible combat unfold, and not do anything to stop it. Sharpclaw, look out!

  Darktail sprang, aiming to land on Sharpclaw’s back, but at the last instant Sharpclaw seemed to become aware of him, and slipped to one side so that Darktail landed hard on the rock. He was briefly winded; Sharpclaw stood over him, one paw raised, but clearly puzzled.

  “What’s gotten into you?” he demanded. “How could you betray SkyClan?”

  Kill him—now! Hawkwing wanted to cry out, but the gray tom was still pressing down on his throat. Hawkwing’s vision began to spin away in a dark spiral, but he kept on struggling to stay conscious and throw off his attacker.

  He saw Darktail recover and spring at Sharpclaw again. “I was never part of SkyClan!” the rogue tom snarled.

  Sharpclaw’s confusion was replaced by shock, but now he was no longer in doubt. He retaliated with a familiar battle move, leaping up and twisting in the air to land behind Darktail and lash his claws across the rogue’s hindquarters. Darktail spun around and reared up, bringing his forepaws down hard on Sharpclaw’s shoulders. Sharpclaw rolled away and jumped to his paws again, leaping out of range.

  Hawkwing tensed his muscles and tried to get free, but the gray tom held him down. Hawkwing kicked and thrashed, but it was no good.

  When he looked back, he saw that blood was dripping down Darktail’s face as he stalked after Sharpclaw, who was crouched and ready to pounce. Then Hawkwing noticed that Darktail was holding his tail high, waving it to and fro like a branch in the wind.

  He spotted a flicker of gray from the corner of his eye. Painfully twisting his head around, he saw that Darktail’s friend Rain was creeping up on Sharpclaw from behind. The waving tail was a signal!

  Hawkwing made another desperate effort to cry out and warn his father, but the paw pressing on his throat still stifled his voice. Despair filled him as he watched, helpless. This must be a nightmare. My father is in danger, and there’s nothing I can do!

  Rain let out a hiss; distracted by the sound, Sharpclaw glanced over his shoulder. In the same heartbeat, Darktail leaped. He landed on Sharpclaw’s shoulders and slashed a paw over his throat and down his belly. Rain leaped on Sharpclaw from behind and held him down while Darktail slashed at him again. Blood streamed out of Sharpclaw’s body.

  Shock and anger surged through Hawkwing, giving him a last burst of energy. He threw off the silver-gray tom and rushed forward to his father’s side. “Get off him!” he croaked out, his voice still hoarse.

  Darktail jumped up, and Rain withdrew a pace, as if they were obeying Hawkwing’s order. But Hawkwing knew that wasn’t the reason. The rogues had finished their deadly work, and Hawkwing was too late. He saw his father’s limbs spasm in a final convulsion and then lie still. The last flicker of light died from his green eyes.

  “No . . . no . . . ,” Hawkwing gasped. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real!

  Darktail stepped forward, putting himself between Hawkwing and his dead father. Hatred surged up in Hawkwing as he bunched his muscles to leap on the white tom, but Darktail simply gave him a push with one paw. Exhausted from his battle with the silver-gray rogue, Hawkwing staggered back.

  “Why?” he choked out, stunned by the depths of the rogue cat’s cruelty. “Why have you turned on us? We never did you any harm.”

  “I never turned on you,” Darktail sneered. “My plan was to destroy SkyClan all along.”

  Destroy SkyClan? Hawkwing remembered his conversation with Cherrytail, and her fear that being driven from the gorge would end SkyClan. Was that what Darktail wanted this whole time? But why would he hate SkyClan so much? He hadn’t even met us until a couple of moons ago.

  Hawkwing didn’t know what to say. He could only repeat his desperate question. “Why?”

  “Listen,” Darktail meowed, his tone softening. “I like you, Hawkwing. You’re different from the other SkyClan cats. You’re more like me. Surely you realize your best chance of survival will be with me and my rogues? We’re going to take the gorge for ourselves. Join us! We’re so good together, Hawkwing. We understand each other. I’ll make you my deputy.”

  Hawkwing could hardly believe what he was hearing. We’re going to take the gorge for ourselves. And Darktail’s claim of affection made him want to vomit. “Even if I believed you,” he spat, “do you think I would join you? After you and Rain murdered my father? Never!”

  To Hawkwing’s amazement, something flickered in Darktail’s eyes and he angled his head aside, as if he were honestly disappointed by Hawkwing’s response. But when he looked up again he wore a savage glare, his whiskers bristling. “If that’s what you want,” he snarled, “you can die along with the rest of your mange-ridden Clan!”

  Full of grief and rage, Hawkwing leaped at him. But Darktail slipped aside, and was lost to sight in the rain and the darkness.

  CHAPTER 17

  Hawkwing’s heart was beating hard, pounding loud in his ears in spite of the rain that thrummed against the ground with relentless strength. Everything seemed unreal, and as he flung himself back into the battle he felt as if each move was taking place in slow motion.

  The powerful long-furred she-cat leaped toward him, and he felt as if he had all the time in the world to extend his claws and slice them through her black pelt into her shoulder. Another rogue attacked him from the side; Hawkwing automatically dodged his swipes and drove him off with two swift blows around his ears.

  Hawkwing fought on with the battle moves ingrained in him through moons of SkyClan training, but he was barely aware of the strikes he delivered or the ones he received. All he could think of was the look of utter surprise on Sharpclaw’s face at the moment that Darktail struck him down. And Darktail had looked so cold and calculating.

  I can’t believe I felt so close to that vile cat! I even thought he might help to make up for losing Duskpaw! But Darktail was never anything like my brother!

  The storm raged on, matching the storm in Hawkwing’s heart. Raindrops bounced off the ground, gathering in puddles that spread and flowed into one another. The ground was slippery, and it was hard to see through the sheets of driving rain.

  Through the chaos, Hawkwing spotted Patchfoot close to the cliff wall, locked in combat with a skinny ginger rogue. He began splashing over there to help the elder. Patchfoot had reared on his hind paws, pinning the rogue against the rock face, but just as he was poised to strike, his hind paws slipped in the mud and he fell. With a yowl of triumph the ginger rogue fell on him, biting and scratching. Patchfoot let out a choking gasp of pain.

  Putting on a burst of speed,
Hawkwing flung himself at the rogue and drove him back, landing a couple of blows on his hindquarters as the rogue turned and fled. Then he turned toward Patchfoot, only to realize with a fresh shock of grief that the old cat was dead, his limbs stretched out as rain flowed through his pelt.

  Hawkwing let out a growl of pure fury. Close by he spotted Clovertail and Fallowfern fighting with two more of the rogues, and began to rush toward them. But before he reached them, he was distracted by a panic-stricken screech from the cliff above his head.

  “Help us!”

  Looking up through the rain, Hawkwing managed to make out a knot of cats fighting outside the nursery. He recognized Mintfur and Birdwing, bravely holding their own but outnumbered by three rogues who were steadily driving them away from the nursery entrance.

  They want to hurt the kits! Hawkwing realized. They’re striking at the heart of our Clan!

  “I’m coming!” he yowled, launching himself up the trail.

  As he drew closer, Hawkwing could hear the thin wails of Mintfur’s four terrified young kits, and the stronger voices of Birdwing’s three, who were almost old enough to be apprenticed.

  “We can fight!” Curlykit called out. “We’ll protect the young ones!”

  “We’ll claw any rogue who comes in here!” Fidgetkit agreed, while Snipkit simply let out a threatening growl.

  Hawkwing raced upward and realized after a few paces that another cat was following hard on his paws. Afraid that a rogue was chasing him, he paused to look back and saw that it was Pebblepaw. Her speckled fur was plastered to her body by the rain, but thankfulness surged through Hawkwing as he realized she was unhurt.

  There was no time to talk. Hawkwing sped up the trail with Pebblepaw behind him, until they reached the ledge outside the nursery and fell on the rogues from behind.

  Hawkwing swatted at the nearest attacker, a black-and-white tom, with both forepaws, pushing him off the ledge to fall shrieking into the gorge. Pebblepaw dug her claws into the hindquarters of a huge ginger tom and clung there as he twisted around, trying to get at her. Hawkwing slashed at his ears, and with a wail of fear the rogue tore himself away and fled up the trail to disappear over the cliff top. The third rogue was a gray she-cat; Hawkwing faced her, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a threatening snarl. He was aware of Pebblepaw at his side; faced with the two of them, the rogue backed away slowly, then suddenly turned tail and headed back down into the gorge.