After a moment, Hawkpaw became aware that Echosong was watching him, her green eyes full of understanding, as if she could read his mind. Then she turned and took a poppy seed from the rock shelf where she stored her herbs.
“Eat this,” she mewed, setting it in front of Hawkpaw. “It will calm you down. And you have to let me dress the burn on your back.”
Hawkpaw wanted to give in. The wound felt small, but it hurt worse than anything he had felt in his life, a clawing pain that made him feel sick.
No! he decided. I don’t deserve to feel better!
He began to back away from Echosong, but his body was giving way at last from his injuries and the smoke he had breathed in. He felt his legs buckle and a cloud seemed to swirl around him, blacker than the smoke. As he began to slide into unconsciousness he felt Echosong’s gentle paws spread something soothing on his back.
The medicine cat’s voice pulsed in his ears, saying something about a prophecy. But Hawkpaw couldn’t make out the words, and in a moment the sound was swamped in his own desperate cry.
“I should have saved him first!”
His voice echoed in his own ears as he finally drifted into a painful, fitful sleep.
CHAPTER 3
Hawkpaw scrambled to the top of the gorge and slipped into the long grass. The sun had cleared the tops of the trees, but shadows still lay among the rocks and in the undergrowth, and no cat had noticed him leaving the camp.
Several days had passed since the fire. The scent of smoke had faded from Hawkpaw’s fur, and he could hardly feel the pain of his burn anymore. The vigil for Duskpaw was over.
But the tightness in Hawkpaw’s chest hadn’t eased. He couldn’t forget how he had failed to save his brother. Leafstar will make me a warrior today, he thought. I should be excited, but I’m not. I feel as if nothing good will ever happen again. His heart was so heavy he could barely carry it.
Hawkpaw slid through the bushes until he reached the foot of the tree where Duskpaw had been buried. As he stood over the mound of earth, a wave of guilt and sorrow swept over him.
“You shouldn’t be there, beneath the dirt,” he mewed aloud. He remembered how lively and mischievous his brother had been, and now he was lying still and silent, with soil clotting in his ginger fur. “You should be here with me . . . about to become a warrior!”
In the days since Duskpaw died, every cat had kept on telling him how brave he had been to rescue Pebblepaw. But Hawkpaw didn’t want to hear that, because it only reminded him of how he hadn’t rescued his brother. Not in time, anyway.
Hawkpaw stood beside his brother’s grave, his head bowed, until he heard Leafstar’s voice rising from the gorge, faint with the distance but still ringing out clearly.
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!”
“Good-bye, Duskpaw,” Hawkpaw murmured. “I’ll never forget you. And I’ll never forget that I could have saved you. I’m so sorry.”
Then he turned and headed back to the gorge.
By the time Hawkpaw had clambered down the trail the rest of his Clan had assembled in front of the Rockpile, beside the water that cascaded endlessly out of the black hole beneath the boulders. Leafstar stood on top of the rocks, with her deputy, Sharpclaw, beside her. Blossompaw and Cloudpaw emerged to stand at the front of the crowd of cats, their expressions a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Their mentors, Bouncefire and Plumwillow, followed and halted just behind them, and as Hawkwing padded across the sandy floor of the camp to join them, Ebonyclaw slipped into her place with the others.
“Cats of SkyClan, today we have gathered together for one of the most important events in the life of a Clan,” Leafstar began, her head raised proudly. “The making of new warriors. Plumwillow, Bouncefire, Ebonyclaw, have your apprentices learned the skills of a warrior? And do they understand the importance of the warrior code in the life of a Clan?”
“Cloudpaw has worked hard to understand all that,” Plumwillow responded.
Bouncefire gave a brisk nod. “So has Blossompaw.”
“And Hawkpaw,” Ebonyclaw added.
Hawkpaw’s heart lurched. Yes, I worked hard, but what good was that to Duskpaw? I don’t deserve this!
Leafstar dipped her head approvingly and leaped down from the Rockpile to stand in front of the three apprentices. Beckoning with her tail, she summoned Cloudpaw to her.
Cloudpaw stepped forward shakily. Hawkpaw knew that though she was recovering well from her injuries, she still hadn’t built up all her strength, and it was hard for her to stand for long. He forced himself to push aside his grief for Duskpaw, knowing that Cloudpaw was grieving for their littermate too, and to focus on what was happening.
This is one of the most important moments of Cloudpaw’s life. I don’t want to miss it.
Standing over Cloudpaw, Leafstar repeated the words that Clan leaders had used for season upon season, every time an apprentice was made into a warrior, since the first Clans were formed.
“I, Leafstar, leader of SkyClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.” Turning to Cloudpaw, meeting her gaze directly, she continued, “Cloudpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
Hawkpaw’s heart lurched again as he heard the phrase “at the cost of your life.” Duskpaw never got the chance to take this oath, he reflected. He never got the honor of losing his life to protect his Clan. Instead he lost it trying to get a few scraps of Twoleg food. Somehow, that makes it worse . . . and Cloudpaw must be thinking the same thing.
Cloudpaw looked up at her Clan leader, pausing for a moment. Then she spoke, and her voice was fervent as she replied, “I do.”
“Then by the powers of StarClan,” Leafstar went on, “I give you your warrior name. Cloudpaw, from this moment you will be known as Cloudmist. StarClan honors your courage and your resilience, and we welcome you as a full warrior of SkyClan.”
Leafstar rested her muzzle on the top of Cloudmist’s head, and Cloudmist licked her shoulder in response.
“Cloudmist! Cloudmist!” the SkyClan cats yowled, greeting the warrior with her new name.
Leafstar waited for the noise to die down, then touched Cloudmist’s shoulder with the tip of her tail. “Because of your injuries,” she meowed, “you need not sit vigil tonight. You still belong in the medicine cat den, until you have finished recovering.”
As every cat murmured agreement, Cloudmist dipped her head and moved back to sit with her mother, Cherrytail, who gave her ear a proud lick.
Next, Leafstar beckoned Blossompaw to stand in front of her. Hawkpaw listened as the ceremony was repeated and she was given the name of Blossomheart.
“StarClan honors your courage and fighting skill,” Leafstar finished, “and we welcome you as a full warrior of SkyClan.”
“Blossomheart! Blossomheart!”
Looking proud and happy, Blossomheart licked her Clan leader’s shoulder, and withdrew to stand with her Clanmates.
Nervousness tingled through Hawkpaw, briefly overcoming even his sorrow for Duskpaw, as he realized that now it was his turn. It wasn’t only because every cat’s gaze would be on him as he went through the ceremony. But he was suddenly aware that a massive change was hovering over his life, like an eagle about to swoop on its prey. He wasn’t a kit anymore, and the prospect of taking his place in his Clan as a full warrior was as overwhelming as if the cascade of water from beneath the Rockpile had caught him and swept him away.
I wish Duskpaw could see this, he thought. He always had a joke to make. I wonder what he would say if he were here now.
But Hawkpaw couldn’t begin to imagine that. Because Duskpaw wasn’t there, he was under a pile of earth. He’ll never be here again. Hawkpaw knew that being a warrior wouldn’t be any fun without his littermate.
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Hawkpaw padded forward to stand in front of Leafstar. She greeted him with a dip of her head, and called on StarClan to look down on him. Then she turned and asked him to take the oath.
“Hawkpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”
Everything that was in Hawkpaw—his guilt and grief for his brother’s death, his determination to honor his memory by becoming the best warrior that he could—surged into his voice as he replied, “I do.”
“Then by the powers of StarClan,” Leafstar continued, “I give you your warrior name. Hawkpaw, from this moment you will be known as Hawkwing. StarClan honors your courage and your bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of SkyClan.”
Courage and bravery? Hawkwing thought. Aren’t they sort of the same thing? He wondered whether Leafstar thought that there was only one good thing about him. And am I really even that brave?
As the Clan acclaimed him by his new name, Hawkwing felt his pelt prickle under some cat’s gaze and spotted Sharpclaw staring at him. Ever since Duskpaw’s death, Sharpclaw had been cold, and though he had never said as much, Hawkwing knew that his father blamed him just as he blamed himself. He raised his head to look directly at Sharpclaw, and knew that he was thinking of Duskpaw too: Duskpaw, who would never have another name, who would never be anything but dead.
Cherrytail padded over to the three new warriors, nuzzling each of them in turn. “Congratulations,” she meowed. “I’m so proud of you.”
But Hawkpaw felt a fresh pang of pain to see the sadness in his mother’s eyes. And when Sharpclaw leaped down from the Rockpile to join them, he stood by silently, and scarcely looked at Hawkwing.
“Hey, Hawkwing!”
At the sound of his name, Hawkwing felt a tiny flicker of pride. It was the first time any cat had really used the new name. Then he turned, and his heart grew cold as he saw that the cat speaking was Pebblepaw.
Since the fire, Hawkwing had barely spoken to her. He could hardly stand to look at her. She’s always so cocky and arrogant and pleased with herself. . . .
Then he realized that she seemed different now from how she had been before the fire. Since then, she hasn’t made a single snarky remark to me.
“I want to thank you for rescuing me,” she meowed, a look of genuine gratitude in her eyes. “I was trapped, and you saved my life. What Leafstar said about you is true. You really are brave and courageous. I’m so happy to be alive, and it’s all because of you.”
Hawkwing stared at her, unsure how to respond. He noticed that she still had a poultice of honey and comfrey on one of her paws, but apart from that she looked as strong and healthy as ever. She’s doing much better than Cloudmist.
Somehow the realization made anger throb through Hawkwing from ears to tail-tip. He tried to choke out, “You’re welcome,” because he knew that was what he was supposed to say. But his throat felt as if it was full of ash, and his anger rose until he felt it must burst out of him.
How dare she stand there looking so healthy and happy, when my brother is dead?
Hawkwing didn’t feel proud of his warrior name anymore. He didn’t even feel sad about Duskpaw. Everything within him had been overwhelmed by his fury.
“I wish I hadn’t saved you!” he blurted out. “I wish I’d gone for my brother first. Then maybe he’d still be alive!”
The gratitude in Pebblepaw’s face drained away, and her eyes widened in dismay. For a moment she looked crushed. Then her gaze hardened as she stared at Hawkwing, and she shook her head. Without another word she spun around and stalked away.
CHAPTER 4
The dawn patrol had left some time before, and the red glow in the sky told Hawkwing that the sun had risen, though its rays had not yet cleared the top of the gorge. Shivering, he shook out his pelt and rose to his paws to arch his back in a long stretch. The night of his vigil was almost over.
His sister Blossomheart, a few tail-lengths away, had started to groom herself, licking one paw and passing it over her face. After a moment she paused, and parted her jaws in a massive yawn.
“I could sleep for a moon!” she whispered.
New warriors guarding the camp were not supposed to speak to each other, but on the night before, when they started their vigil, Hawkwing had been unable to resist murmuring a few words into his sister’s ear.
“I miss Duskpaw so much. I wish he could be keeping vigil with us.”
“I miss him too,” Blossomheart had responded. “He should be here.”
After that, there was nothing to do but keep watch for invaders. And since no invaders appeared, Hawkwing had the whole of the night to sit and think.
Now, as the red sun peeked over the rim of the gorge, he was beginning to feel guilty about the way he had treated Pebblepaw. The thought of her still filled him with despair and anger, but now he began to wonder if it was unfair to blame her for the decision he had made and the way he felt now. It was my choice, he told himself. My responsibility. Even so, his guilt over exploding at her was only one drop in the vast pool of guilt that was his heart.
As the whole circle of the sun appeared above the cliff, warriors began to emerge from their den, stretching before making their slow way down the trails. Leafstar appeared from her den and beckoned some of her cats around her, speaking quickly.
I wonder what all that’s about, Hawkwing thought drowsily.
A moment later the group dispersed, the warriors heading more purposefully to the bottom of the gorge. Sandynose broke from the group and walked up to Hawkwing and Blossomheart.
“Your vigil is over,” the light brown tom announced. “Come and join the others by the Rockpile. Leafstar is calling a Clan meeting.”
Another one? Hawkwing was puzzled. Why? We all just met yesterday for the warrior ceremony.
The rest of the Clan began to gather around as Leafstar leaped up to the top of the Rockpile. She was followed by Sharpclaw, and also, Hawkwing noticed with a prickle of curiosity, by Echosong the medicine cat.
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!” Leafstar yowled.
One or two remaining warriors stuck their heads out of their den, then hurried down the trail to join their Clanmates. Harveymoon, Macgyver, and Ebonyclaw, the daylight warriors, appeared at the top of the cliff and leaped from rock to rock to gather with the others.
“I’m glad we left early!” Macgyver panted as he raced past Hawkwing and Blossomheart. “We might have missed this!”
Birdwing appeared at the entrance to the nursery with Mintfur and Honeytail, all three she-cats looking down at their leader on the Rockpile. Birdwing’s kits frisked around her paws, sometimes getting perilously close to the edge of the trail, until their mother gathered them closer with a sweep of her tail.
Pebblepaw and Parsleypaw poked their heads curiously out of the apprentices’ den, then bounded down to the bottom of the gorge and found a place to sit close to the edge of the river.
Finally the dawn patrol—Tinycloud, Sparrowpelt, and Bellapaw—returned, appearing at the far side of the gorge and making their way down into the crowd of cats.
When all the Clan was assembled, Leafstar began to speak, her amber gaze traveling over her cats; Hawkwing thought that he could detect trouble in her eyes, and his pads pricked with apprehension.
“Echosong received a prophecy from StarClan a few sunrises ago,” the brown-and-cream-colored she-cat meowed. “It will affect the whole future of our Clan. I have thought deeply about this, and I feel that it is time to share her vision with you.” She took a step back and waved her tail as a sign for Echosong to speak.
The silver tabby medicine cat hesitated, her gaze seeming fixed on something far away. Then she gave her pelt a brisk shake.
“A few days ago I went to the Whispering Cave, to speak with the spirits of our warrior ancestors,” she began. “A pale gray tom appeared to me in a dream. I had never seen
him before, but he told me that his name was Skystar, and he was the ancient founder of our Clan.”
Hawkwing caught his breath. How many seasons must have passed since SkyClan first came to be, and yet a Clan leader could still appear out of the far past to speak to their medicine cat!
“Skystar told me, ‘The fire has burned out, but to dispel the darkness you must find the spark that remains,’” Echosong meowed.
“And what does that mean?” Sharpclaw asked with an irritated twitch of his tail.
“I believe that ‘the fire that has burned out’ must refer to Firestar, the great leader of ThunderClan,” Echosong responded.
Firestar, who restored SkyClan after we were scattered and almost destroyed! Hawkwing thought, his wonder growing. Firestar who was Ravenpaw’s friend. Every kit knows that story!
The concern in Leafstar’s expression grew deeper. “I don’t want to believe that Firestar is dead . . .” she murmured.
Echosong dipped her head sadly. “I don’t see what else Skystar’s words could mean,” she continued. “And if that’s true, then ‘the spark that remains’ could well be Firestar’s kin in ThunderClan. That must mean that we’re being told to seek out ThunderClan, and perhaps the other Clans, too. Perhaps it’s time for SkyClan to go home. . . .”
“Really?” Sharpclaw lashed his tail; Hawkwing could see how much he hated Echosong’s suggestion. “And just how do you suggest we do that? We know that the Clans have moved away from where they lived when Firestar came to us. How are we supposed to find them now?”
Echosong remained calm in the face of the deputy’s objection. “I doubt StarClan would send us on a journey we could not complete,” she mewed. “We can seek out Barley, the farm cat who was Ravenpaw’s friend, and ask him if he knows where the Clans’ camps are now.”
“That’s exactly what we should do!” Bellapaw called out from where she sat at the foot of the Rockpile.
“Barley will be glad to help,” her brother Rileypaw agreed.