With another screech the bird loosened its grip on Curlypaw, who twisted around and slashed her claws at its underbelly, even though the bird still had her hind legs pinned. Blossomheart came charging up, blood from her wound spattering the grass, but before she reached them Hawkwing dug his teeth deeper into the bird’s back and wrenched his head around, tearing out a chunk of the bird’s flesh.
Shrieking furiously, the bird let go of Curlypaw and awkwardly flapped its way back into the air. Blood dripped from its wound onto the grass as it flew slowly away.
Hawkwing turned to his sister. “Blossomheart, are you okay?”
Blossomheart twisted her head to get a good look at the wound on her shoulder. “I’ve been better,” she panted. “But I’ll be fine. Hawkwing, that was amazing! You really lived up to your name.”
Glancing around to check on his Clanmates, Hawkwing saw Bellaleaf stagger to her paws and pad shakily over to join the others.
“Are you hurt?” Hawkwing asked.
Bellaleaf gave her head a shake as if to clear it. “No, I’m okay. Just a bit stunned. That bird was really strong!”
Reassured, Hawkwing turned to Curlypaw and gave her scratches a good sniff. He was thankful that they all seemed to be shallow, hardly bleeding at all. But the apprentice was still shivering, her eyes wide with the memory of fear.
“Hawkwing, you saved my life!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking. “Just like you did in the Twolegplace. If you hadn’t been here . . .” Her eyes grew dark, as if she could see herself being carried away in the grip of the enormous bird.
Feeling her terror as if it was his own, Hawkwing bent his head and began to lick Curlypaw’s wounds. “Don’t think about it anymore,” he mewed between strokes of his tongue. “You were very brave, and you’re safe. That’s what matters. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
Curlypaw nodded and gave her pelt a shake. “I’ll try.”
As he comforted his apprentice, Hawkwing remembered the kits in his dream—his kits. They’ll have meaningful lives, too, he thought, even if I never get to see them. I wouldn’t want them to give up because they don’t have a father.
“And now we’d better go home and get Echosong to check us out,” Bellaleaf meowed.
The cats skirted the edge of the lake as they made their way back to their new camp. Hawkwing kept a watchful eye on the sky, in case the fierce bird returned.
“Hawkwing, that was good advice you gave Curlypaw,” Blossomheart murmured. “I’ve noticed you’ve not been yourself lately. Of course, you have good reasons, but you can’t live your whole life like that. You have to believe what you told Curlypaw, too. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, you know?”
For a moment Hawkwing considered how he should respond. I wouldn’t want my kits to give up, so maybe I shouldn’t, either. “I’m trying to believe,” he replied at last, even though it was a struggle to get the words out.
Blossomheart touched her nose to his. “All of SkyClan needs to believe that we have a future. If this isn’t the right lake, then we have to believe we will find the right one, where the other Clans live. If we don’t find it soon, surely StarClan will send us a sign. . . .”
Hawkwing dipped his head, almost overcome. “I hope so,” he managed to mew.
He watched Bellaleaf and Curlypaw padding ahead of him; now that the danger was over, they were excitedly discussing the encounter with the water-bird. They’re so young and brave! Hawkwing knew that they were the future of SkyClan—the SkyClan that must live on, for seasons beyond counting, and prosper.
Blossomheart is right.
CHAPTER 29
The sun was going down, casting red light over the forest. Shadows were already gathering in the camp, but there was still a sunny spot near the fresh-kill pile, where Hawkwing and several of his Clanmates were eating.
“We’ve been here a moon now,” Waspwhisker remarked, pausing as he devoured his vole. “It’s starting to feel like home.”
Hawkwing murmured agreement. He watched Curlypaw and Fidgetpaw playing with Rileypool at the other side of the camp. Rileypool was pretending to be a badger, and the air was filled with the apprentices’ joyful squeals of terror.
As newleaf melted into greenleaf, the weather had grown warmer and the land around the lake had become lush and green. Somehow Hawkwing felt that his cold grief was melting, too. He still missed Pebbleshine desperately, and feared for her and their kits, but he was able to look forward to a better time.
Someday I’ll find them all again.
Curlypaw was also doing much better. She had begun to thrive once he started really paying attention to her again, trusting that he could be a good mentor to her instead of always questioning himself.
She’s finally living up to her potential. She just needed patience and understanding. She’s going to be an incredible warrior!
A few heartbeats later the peace of the camp was shattered by raised voices coming from the medicine cats’ den. As Hawkwing turned toward it in surprise, Leafstar stormed into the open, followed by Echosong.
“It’s not just a hunch!” the medicine cat protested. “It’s a message from StarClan.”
Leafstar whipped around to face her. “You just told me you had no vision,” she retorted furiously. “This is just a ‘feeling’ you have.”
Hawkwing exchanged a glance with Waspwhisker. It was almost unheard of for the Clan leader and their medicine cat to have a serious disagreement, and just as unusual for Leafstar to show so much anger. Something is really wrong here.
“But the feeling is so strong,” Echosong meowed, “that I believe that StarClan is telling me something. There’s no other explanation! I’ve known this since we arrived here. We can’t stay here!”
Hawkwing pricked his ears. Echosong was putting into words the feeling he himself had experienced ever since SkyClan had made camp here. Something is simply wrong with this place.
He had made the best of it, trying to concentrate on teaching Curlypaw and doing everything he could for his Clan. He had made a huge effort to rein in his runaway temper and behave sensibly for once. And now he had to push down his instinct to join in the argument and agree with the medicine cat.
But what does Echosong think we should do?
“Remember how long it took us to find this place?” Leafstar continued, clearly making an effort to speak more calmly. “And how hard it was, traipsing through strange territory with no home. A Clan needs a home to be truly strong!”
“Yes, I know that,” Echosong responded with a sigh. “But this isn’t meant to be our home! You can’t deny that we haven’t found the other Clans here.”
Leafstar grunted a reluctant agreement. “There’s no sign that any other cats have ever lived here.”
“Then wouldn’t we be stronger if we were surrounded by equally strong Clans?” Echosong asked.
Leafstar paced to and fro, the tip of her tail twitching, before she replied. “I’ve heard your argument,” she meowed at last, “but I am not convinced that we should uproot yet again. We’re surviving here—and we should remember, SkyClan has survived on its own for many seasons, with no help from other Clans. If StarClan wants us to move on,” she added after a heartbeat’s pause, “then they need to send us more guidance. We can’t go on chasing ‘the spark that remains’ forever—not when we don’t know where we’re supposed to go.”
“But that’s not how StarClan works,” Echosong protested. “You know that as well as I do, Leafstar.”
“But that’s what SkyClan needs, after all we’ve been through.”
“I understand.” Hawkwing thought Echosong sounded desperately unhappy to be in conflict with her Clan leader. “But you have to understand too. I have deep concerns about this place. It doesn’t feel right.”
Leafstar’s shoulders drooped in exhaustion. “I hear you, Echosong. But I am not convinced that leaving is the right decision for SkyClan.”
“I will respect your leadership, Leafstar,??
? the medicine cat mewed, dipping her head resignedly. “But I feel we are going against the advice of StarClan. And as long as we do that, we’re at risk.”
Hawkwing watched as the Clan leader and the medicine cat separated, stalking off in opposite directions. He was deeply disturbed by what he had overheard. Whether we stay here or not, he thought, it can’t be good for Leafstar and Echosong to disagree so wildly. Clan cats need certainty from their leader and their medicine cat.
Not having that certainty made Hawkwing feel as if icy claws were raking through his pelt.
A painful yowl broke into Hawkwing’s dream of the big bird attacking his Clanmates. At first he thought the noise was part of the dream, but then he realized it was coming from outside the den. Picking his way around his Clanmates, who were beginning to stir, Hawkwing blundered into the open.
The morning was damp and misty, but the sun was already breaking through the foliage above the camp, and every drop of dew glittered with light. At first everything seemed peaceful; then the yowling came again and Hawkwing spotted Curlypaw standing outside the entrance to the nursery, her eyes wide with distress.
“What’s happening?” Hawkwing asked, bounding over to her.
“It’s Plumwillow,” Curlypaw replied. “Her kits are coming, but something is going wrong!”
For a moment Hawkwing felt as though his fur was tightening around his flanks. He could barely breathe, imagining all too clearly what Plumwillow must be suffering, to go through her kitting without a mate. A pang of renewed pain passed through him as he wondered whether Pebbleshine would have any cat to help her when the time came for their kits to be born.
It’s not really my place to help Plumwillow, he thought, but I can’t let her face it alone.
Slipping into the nursery, he found Echosong there with Fidgetpaw, both of them bending over the motionless body of Plumwillow. The tense argument with Leafstar the day before might as well never have happened; Echosong was back to normal again, the calm, efficient medicine cat.
“What’s the matter?” Hawkwing asked.
“The first kit is coming out feetfirst,” Echosong replied with a brief glance over her shoulder. “Plumwillow can make it through if she has the energy for it, but she’s weak. Plumwillow, you’ve got to try.”
“I can’t,” Plumwillow murmured. Her eyes were glazed and her voice was blurred, as if she had withdrawn far into herself.
Hawkwing’s instincts told him what was wrong. “Plumwillow,” he mewed, moving to stand beside the gray she-cat’s head, “I know you can do this.”
Plumwillow looked up at him, startled and almost hostile. “What are you doing in here?” she asked. “You have no—”
“I’m the perfect cat to help you through this,” Hawkwing interrupted, resting his tail-tip on Plumwillow’s shoulder. “I know what it feels like to lose your mate. How it feels like there’s no reason to go on . . .”
Slowly Plumwillow nodded. “All this time, I’ve been going on for the sake of the kits. But if there’s something wrong with them, there is no reason.”
“You’re wrong!” Hawkwing tried to put all the strength into his voice that he wanted to give to Plumwillow. “You have a big reason coming. Sandynose’s lovely kits! They can still be born healthy if you stay strong. And every time you look at them, you’ll see the best of both you and your mate.”
Hawkwing had to struggle to keep his voice steady on the last few words, remembering the kits from his dream. I’ll never see my own kits, never sit with Pebbleshine while she gives birth.
“You look so sad,” Plumwillow whispered.
“That’s why you have to pull it together,” Hawkwing told her. “You have to be strong, because you’re lucky enough to have something I will never have.”
Understanding began to dawn in Plumwillow’s eyes. “Why do you care about what happens to me?” she asked.
“Because I know what it feels like to be alone.” Trapped in a dark cave, with no light and no way out.
Plumwillow gritted her teeth and Hawkwing realized that another powerful pain was rippling through her belly. This time she didn’t cry out, but flexed her muscles to push her kits into the world.
“Yes!” Echosong meowed. “That’s right—it’s coming!”
Within heartbeats, as Hawkwing watched in wonder, a tiny gray kit slid out onto the mossy bedding of the nursery. Its pelt was wet, plastered to its body, and Echosong nudged it toward Plumwillow, who began licking it vigorously.
“A little tom—and very strong and healthy,” Echosong meowed.
Plumwillow’s belly spasmed again, and almost before Hawkwing realized it, a second and then a third kit were born: another tom, light brown with ginger legs, just like his father, Sandynose, and a pale tabby she-kit.
Plumwillow couldn’t stop purring as she nuzzled and licked them, and guided them toward her belly so that they could suckle. “They’re so beautiful!” she whispered, her eyes shining with joy.
Hawkwing gazed down at the happy family, an ache in his heart so deep that he almost cried out with the pain of it. I’m not really part of this. . . . “You’re okay now, so I’ll just go . . . ,” he began.
Plumwillow raised her head to look at him. “No, don’t,” she mewed. “I could never have managed this without you. Losing Sandynose still feels so raw, and I could never take another mate, but I’ll need help with these kits—if I’m not presuming too much, would you want to help me?”
Gazing down at the kits, Hawkwing felt the empty places in his heart begin to fill again. They’re not mine, and they never will be, he thought, but they’re so tiny, so perfect. . . .
“Of course I’ll help you, Plumwillow,” he promised.
Hawkwing padded into the camp with a rabbit dangling from his jaws. At once excited squealing came from the nursery and Plumwillow’s three kits came tumbling out, tripping over each other in their eagerness to greet him first.
“Uh-oh!” Firefern mewed around her vole as she followed Hawkwing into camp, her eyes glinting with amusement. “It looks like you’re wanted.”
The three kits were a moon old now, and already developing into healthy, energetic cats. Dewkit, the sturdy gray tom; Finkit, who looked exactly like his father, with the same brown pelt and ginger legs, and Reedkit, the little tabby she-kit. Hawkwing loved them all, and loved every moment that he spent with them.
Firefern carried her prey to the fresh-kill pile, along with Harrybrook and Birdwing, the other members of the patrol. Hawkwing glanced sharply around until his gaze fell on his apprentice, Curlypaw, who was grooming herself outside her den.
“Curlypaw!” he called, beckoning with his tail.
His apprentice sprang up and padded over to him, stumbling over Finkit, who was bouncing around Hawkwing, along with his littermates. “Yes, Hawkwing?” she mewed.
“Don’t ‘yes, Hawkwing’ me,” he snapped. “Where were you this morning? I wanted to take you for battle practice, and you were nowhere to be found.”
Curlypaw blinked innocently. “Oh, sorry, Hawkwing,” she responded. “I was awake early, so I thought I’d go hunting on my own for a while. I caught two mice,” she finished proudly.
“That’s all very well, but—” Hawkwing began, then broke off as all three kits jumped on him, digging their tiny claws into his pelt. “Okay, Curlypaw,” he meowed, struggling to make himself heard over the joyful squealing of the kits. “Just ask first, next time. And take this rabbit to the fresh-kill pile.”
As Curlypaw snatched up the prey and carried it off, Hawkwing flopped over on his side with the three kits swarming all over him. “Dewkit, take your paw out of my ear,” he protested. “And Finkit, that’s my tail you’re biting!”
“You’re a rabbit, and we’re hunting you,” Reedkit informed him.
“Oh, no!” Hawkwing let out a pretend wail of terror. “You’re such good hunters! I can’t escape!”
As the kits pummeled him with their soft paws, Hawkwing glanced across at the nu
rsery to see Plumwillow sitting outside, watching their game with a happy expression. He rose to his paws and staggered across to her, with the kits still hanging on to him.
“You’ve got your paws full there,” Plumwillow observed with a small mrrow of laughter.
“I certainly have!” Hawkwing agreed. “But they—”
He broke off at the distant sound: the bark of a Twoleg monster. His contented mood faded and he let out a huff of annoyance. “Twolegs again!”
Through the long days of greenleaf the sun had shone brightly. Prey had been running well, and every cat was well fed.
There’s only been one problem with the warm weather: Twolegs!
Every cat had thought it was odd that the Twolegs had made nests beside the lake and then left them behind. But as soon as the days got warmer, they had come back. The lake, which should have been peaceful under the brilliant blue sky, was suddenly surrounded by Twolegs, playing and shouting and sometimes even throwing themselves into the water to splash about.
All of them with monsters full of Twoleg-stuff, Hawkwing thought irritably. And they run around as if they own the place!
“I wish they’d all just go away,” he complained.
“Some of them even bring dogs,” Plumwillow responded. With an anxious glance at the kits, she added, “They come far too close to our camp for my liking.”
“But the dogs look pretty stupid.” Hawkwing tried to reassure her. “They mostly lie around on the grass and chase sticks the Twolegs throw.”
“Maybe . . .” Plumwillow still looked uneasy. “But do you know what I saw the other day? A Twoleg got into a water monster! It tore around the lake, churning up the water and scaring the ducks! What next, that’s what I want to know.”
Hawkwing had no idea. He only knew that the territory seemed to get noisier every day, and it felt more dangerous. He hadn’t told Plumwillow, because he didn’t want to upset her, but sometimes when he and Curlypaw had been out hunting, Twolegs had spotted them and tried to coax them closer. But he and his apprentice knew the tricks Twolegs liked to play; they had always managed to run off before the Twolegs could grab them.