Plumwillow locked her gaze with his for a heartbeat, then dipped her head. “Yes, I do,” she whispered. “But, oh, Hawkwing, you have to save him!”
Hawkwing wished he could promise her that Finkit would live, but he couldn’t lie to her. They didn’t know what the sickness was, and that made it nearly impossible to cure. He could see gratitude and grief in Plumwillow’s eyes as she turned away, gathered her other kits closer with a sweep of her tail, and headed back to the crevice in the rocks where she had set up her nursery.
I can’t promise anything. But I’ll do everything I possibly can to save Finkit!
Hawkwing watched Plumwillow go, then spotted movement downstream: Leafstar was returning at the head of the hunting patrol that had gone out earlier. Their paw steps listless, their tails drooping with discouragement, the cats carried their prey over to the fresh-kill pile.
Such meager pickings! Hawkwing thought. That’ll never keep the Clan alive.
Leafstar paused for a moment, gazing down regretfully at the scanty pile, then seemed to gather herself and padded over to the nest where the sick cats lay.
“How are they—” she began, then broke off as she saw that Finkit had joined them. “Oh, no. Where is it all going to end?”
“We’re doing the best we can,” Firefern mewed.
Sagenose, who had stood by in silence all this time, turned to gaze at the ginger she-cat; Hawkwing thought his eyes looked blank and dead. “You know you’re likely to catch it, right?”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Firefern snapped.
“Every cat knows it,” Sagenose meowed. “The more you treat the sick cats and get close to them, the more likely you are to get sick too.”
“That may be true,” Hawkwing responded, remembering what had happened to Finkit. He was nettled by his Clanmate’s defeatist tone, though he reminded himself that Sagenose had lost his mate and his remaining kits by the lake. I know how terrible that must have been. “But medicine cats always treat the sick, no matter what they’re risking,” he finished.
Sagenose turned that blank, stone-cold stare on Hawkwing. “Right. But you and Firefern aren’t medicine cats. None of us are. If we were, we might have some chance of curing the sick cats. Instead, we’ll probably all get it, eventually.”
Leafstar’s shoulder fur had begun to bristle as Sagenose spoke. “What are you saying?” she demanded with a lash of her tail.
“I’m just pointing out that we have a choice here,” Sagenose retorted.
“And what is that choice?” Leafstar hissed.
“We could split up,” Sagenose replied. “Or send a group of cats to find Echosong.”
Leafstar’s lips drew back in the beginning of a snarl. “And just where do you suggest we do that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Sagenose admitted. “But a group of healthy cats moving around would have a better chance than we will if we just sit here waiting to die.”
Leafstar’s anger faded and her eyes were full of pain as she gazed at Hawkwing. “No,” she meowed. “We will stay together. There are so few of us now. And isn’t this what defines a Clan: that they stay together, even when things are hard? We have to believe that things will get better. We have to believe we will survive this. We have no choice, Sagenose!”
With that, she turned and stalked away. His gaze following her, Hawkwing tried not to let his misgivings show, for the sake of his Clan. But he couldn’t be sure that they would survive this new challenge.
Two sunrises later, gazing down at the nest where the sick cats lay, Hawkwing was even less certain. True to Sagenose’s prediction, Firefern too had fallen ill, the disease attacking her so fiercely that her paw steps were already leading her toward StarClan.
She exhausted herself helping the others, Hawkwing thought, and now she hasn’t the strength to fight the sickness.
The other sick cats were no better. Rileypool seemed barely alive; Hawkwing had to watch carefully to see the faint rising and falling of his chest. He couldn’t eat anymore, or even lap at soaked moss for a drink.
“Come on, Finkit,” Hawkwing murmured encouragingly. “Look, I’ve some lovely mouse for you.”
To his relief, the kit began licking at the mouse. Still keeping an eye on him, Hawkwing began to treat the others with borage, chewing up the leaves into a pulp and crouching beside each of his sick Clanmates until they licked it up. As he finished, he realized that Leafstar was standing beside him, looking down at the nest despairingly. She bent her head and touched her nose to Firefern’s shoulder. “Oh, my daughter . . . ,” she whispered. Then she straightened up and gave her pelt a shake. “I’ve been thinking about what Sagenose said,” she began. “I hate to consider dividing the Clan, but I can’t deny it any longer—we could all die of the sickness if we stay here together. The best chance we have is to split off some healthy cats to go look for Echosong.”
“But what will happen to them?” Hawkwing asked, angling his ears toward the sick cats.
“I will stay with them,” Leafstar replied, her voice full of love and sorrow. “They are my cats. I am sworn to protect them.”
Hawkwing stood silent for a moment, hardly able to believe that it had come to this, that his Clan leader was forced to make these terrible decisions, without even StarClan to guide her. It had been so long since their warrior ancestors had spoken to them, even before Echosong had left.
I don’t know whether I can bear to leave Blossomheart, or Finkit. He’s like my own kit.
“You must lead the rest of the Clan,” Leafstar continued, as if she knew what Hawkwing was thinking. “It’s the only chance SkyClan has.”
“Then we’ll come back if we don’t find Echosong within three sunrises,” Hawkwing suggested.
Leafstar shook her head emphatically. “You can’t come back. Not until you find Echosong.”
Hawkwing felt his throat burn as he had to accept his leader’s order—the decree that meant he might never see Finkit and Blossomheart again.
“You must help me convince the others,” Leafstar urged him. “It’s SkyClan’s best chance of surviving. And when you agreed to be deputy, you agreed to put SkyClan first. That’s what we do, Hawkwing. It’s the sacrifice we make.”
Hawkwing dipped his head. “You’re right, Leafstar. I’ll do as you say.”
Leafstar leaped up onto a nearby rock and let out a yowl. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here for a Clan meeting.”
The cats of SkyClan began to creep into the open from cracks in the rock or tussocks of long grass where they had set up their makeshift dens. Pain gripped Hawkwing’s heart at the sight of them: their ribs showing beneath tattered pelts, their eyes dull with despair. Prey had been scarce ever since they’d left the lake, and they were exhausted from constant travel. Hawkwing could see every one of Sagenose’s ribs, while Tinycloud’s pelt looked as if she hadn’t groomed herself in a moon. Dewkit and Reedkit, who had once been strong and sturdy, looked so frail that a puff of wind could have blown them away.
Every cat gathered around Leafstar and waited in silence to hear what she would say.
“Cats of SkyClan,” the Clan leader began, “you all know how desperate our plight is. Our Clanmates will die unless we can find Echosong, and if we stay here, sooner or later we will all catch the same sickness.”
“What?” Plumwillow let out a cry of disbelief, her burning gaze fixed on Leafstar. “You can’t mean you want the rest of us to leave our Clanmates?”
Leafstar returned Plumwillow’s gaze solemnly. She didn’t answer the warrior’s question, but Hawkwing heard Plumwillow gasp as the truth sank in.
“You expect me to leave my own kit?”
Before Leafstar could respond, Hawkwing’s ears pricked at the sound of a cat approaching.
Please, not an attack. StarClan, not now. The wind was blowing away from SkyClan, so there was no scent to tell him what might be approaching. He slid out his claws.
“Hello?” A fa
miliar voice reached Hawkwing’s ears.
Oh, StarClan, I can’t believe it! I think I’ll die of relief!
Hawkwing felt his entire body go slack. His Clanmates too were stirring around him, looking for the source of the sound, sudden hope in their eyes.
A silver tabby she-cat stepped out from among the trees, with two other cats trailing behind her. Hawkwing let out a triumphant yowl of welcome. Oh, StarClan, thank you!
“Echosong!”
CHAPTER 34
The SkyClan medicine cat splashed through the stream, followed by Bellaleaf and Harrybrook, and padded up to her Clanmates. She, too, was thinner than when Hawkwing had last seen her, but her eyes were bright, and she looked strong. The healthy cats all crowded around her enthusiastically, purring and brushing their pelts against hers.
“Greetings, Echosong!”
“Welcome back!”
“Thank StarClan you found us!”
Hawkwing stared at Echosong, wondering if he was having some kind of weird waking dream. After all the terrible things that have happened, I can’t believe Echosong would return to us just when we need her most! Then he reflected that if this wasn’t real, all his Clanmates must be having the same dream. It must be true! Echosong is really here!
“But how did you find us?” Leafstar asked, struggling through the crowd to Echosong’s side. “We’ve been looking for you for at least a moon.”
Echosong’s green eyes were brilliant as she replied. “It was easy! StarClan showed me where to go.”
Warmth spread through Hawkwing’s pelt, as if sunlight had broken through the storm-laden clouds overhead. Then StarClan hasn’t abandoned us!
“I had a dream,” Echosong continued. “A brown tabby tom spoke to me . . . I think he must be a medicine cat from the first SkyClan. He told me that my Clan had need of me, and that he would guide my paw steps.”
“We certainly do need you,” Leafstar responded. “We have sick cats, and we don’t know what to do for them without a medicine cat.”
“But you have Fidgetpaw. . . .” Echosong glanced around, her eyes puzzled. “Wait . . . no! Where is he?”
Several cats chimed in, telling Echosong how Fidgetpaw and more of their Clanmates had been trapped beside the lake, by the Twolegs with the weird cobweb-things on sticks. Hawkwing shuddered at the memory, imagining for a moment that he could still hear the harsh voices of the Twolegs and the terrified wails of his lost Clanmates.
“That’s terrible!” Echosong exclaimed. “And our Clan deputy, too.”
“Yes, Hawkwing is deputy now,” Leafstar told her.
Echosong shot Hawkwing a pleased look. “Well, well. I can see I’ve a lot to catch up on,” she mewed. “But first, show me the sick cats.”
Hawkwing led Echosong to the nest where the sick cats lay. Harrybrook and Bellaleaf still followed her, and Bellaleaf let out a piercing wail as she saw her brother Rileypool curled up motionless among the moss and leaves. “No! He’s dead!”
Echosong held her paw close to Rileypool’s nose, and Hawkwing saw the faint ruffle of her fur that showed Rileypool still breathed.
“He lives,” Echosong said in a grave voice, “but barely.”
“Oh, thank StarClan! Please help him!” Bellaleaf begged.
“I’m going to do just that,” Echosong reassured her. “Hawkwing, what have you done so far?”
“We gave them borage,” Hawkwing replied, pointing with his tail to a heap of the herb beside the nest. “That’s right, for fever, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it would be right, if that was borage.” Echosong turned over a few of the stems with one paw. “But it’s not, it’s comfrey.”
Hawkwing felt as if all the blood was draining from his heart, and he saw black sparkles in the sky. “StarClan, no!” he gasped. “Have I been poisoning them?” It’s like everything has to go wrong for SkyClan, even when we try our best, he thought, his pelt growing hot with guilt.
Echosong shook her head. “No, we use a poultice of comfrey root for wounds,” she explained. “The leaves aren’t good for much, that I know of, but they wouldn’t do any harm. But now I need to find some real borage.”
Hawkwing sent Sparrowpelt and Tinycloud with Echosong into the trees in case of trouble. The patrol returned quickly, Echosong carrying a bunch of herbs in her jaws.
“We’re lucky that so far there hasn’t been a frost,” she mewed as she dropped the stems beside the sick cats’ nest. “That kills off herbs quicker than anything.”
Hawkwing bent his head to examine the herbs Echosong had brought. He saw that the leaves of borage looked very much like comfrey, but the scent was quite different. A medicine cat would have known that.
Echosong chewed up the leaves and managed to force the pulp between the sick cats’ jaws. Hawkwing watched intently, hoping for some sign of improvement, even though he knew it was far too soon to expect any change.
“They will get better, won’t they?” Bellaleaf asked; she had stayed crouched beside her brother ever since she returned.
“That’s in the paws of StarClan,” Echosong replied, but then added, “I’ve seen cats recover from worse illness than this.”
“I wish there was something I could do,” Bellaleaf meowed.
“There is,” Hawkwing told her briskly. “Lead a hunting patrol, and bring back some prey for them when they wake up.”
Bellaleaf glanced at Rileypool, clearly reluctant to leave him, then rose to her paws. “Right away, Hawkwing. I’ll find some other cats.”
“You’re right to keep her busy,” Echosong mewed to Hawkwing when Bellaleaf had gone. “I wouldn’t say this in front of her, but I’m not hopeful for Rileypool. Firefern, too. They’re both very far gone.”
A heavy knot of dread gathered in Hawkwing’s belly as he braced himself to ask the next question. “And Finkit?”
Echosong sighed, looking at the kit’s frail chest as it rose and fell. “It’s hard to say. He has youth on his side. But he’s so tiny. . . .”
Hawkwing felt like his heart was being squeezed so tightly it might burst. He had to look away.
Please, StarClan, if anything I’ve ever done has pleased you . . . please, spare that kit.
The last warriors of StarClan were fading from the sky as the dawn light strengthened. In the middle of the rocky hollow the cats of SkyClan crouched around the bodies of their Clanmates, stiff and cold in death, with frost sparkling in their fur.
Hawkwing tried to find some consolation in looking at the cats who had survived the sickness. Macgyver and Blossomheart were out of danger, though still weak and shaky. And Finkit looked desperately small and skinny beside his robust littermates, but he was gaining strength every day. A small spark of joy kindled inside Hawkwing as he remembered the moment when Finkit had opened his eyes, wailing plaintively for his mother and complaining about how hungry he was.
But his joy was quenched when he looked at the bodies of Rileypool and Firefern, who were lost to the illness. They’ll never hunt again, never have an apprentice to mentor, never take a mate or have kits. . . .
As the sky grew flushed with rose and amber where the sun would rise, Echosong rose to her paws and took a few paces forward to stand beside her dead Clanmates. “May StarClan light your path, Firefern and Rileypool,” she mewed, using the words which medicine cats had spoken beside the dead for seasons upon seasons. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”
Her words signaled the end of the vigil. Cats began to rise and stretch the stiffness out of their muscles. With no elders remaining in the Clan, Hawkwing was wondering who to choose to take care of the burial, when Leafstar also rose and came to stand beside Echosong.
“We have lost two valuable Clanmates,” she began, then stopped as her voice quivered on the last few words.
Hawkwing understood how difficult this was for his Clan leader. It was her duty to inspire her Clan, and yet she was also grieving as a mother. Only Harrybrook remained of the kits
she and Billystorm had together, and Billystorm himself was gone, buried in a remote place where Leafstar would never set paw.
The Clan leader took several deep breaths and gave her pelt a shake. “Yet it’s important that we go on believing in our Clan,” she went on, in command of herself again. “Rileypool and Firefern believed, and I believe, that StarClan will guide us to a brighter future.”
“I’d like to believe that too.” Plumwillow spoke up from where she sat beside her kits. “But if StarClan wants to guide us, why hasn’t Echosong had another vision?”
It was Echosong who replied. “I had the dream that led me back to you,” she pointed out. “And that means that StarClan has broken their silence.”
“Then why hasn’t StarClan just told you where to find the lake and the other Clans?” Sagenose challenged her.
“Visions don’t work like that,” Echosong told him, a hint of regret in her voice. “StarClan shows me what it wants to show, when it wants to show me. We must all have faith.”
“We’ve had faith ever since we were driven out of the gorge,” Plumwillow meowed bitterly. “If StarClan cares for us, surely they would have given us some better guidance by now? We’ve been tramping through barren territory for so long!” She let out a contemptuous snort. “Does StarClan enjoy seeing us suffer like this? How can we still be loyal to them?”
Gasps of dismay came from some of her Clanmates, but others were nodding and murmuring agreement.
“You mustn’t talk like that,” Hawkwing protested.
“Yes, StarClan must have a reason for what they tell us—or don’t tell us,” Echosong agreed.
“Maybe their ‘reason’ is that they’ve forgotten us!” Plumwillow snapped. “Wouldn’t we all live better lives if we gave up the idea of finding the lake? We’ve had no home for so long—are we truly a Clan anymore, or just a tattered, undernourished group of rogues?”
Yowls of protest arose from some of the cats around her, though Hawkwing could see that others still agreed with Plumwillow. And I’m trying desperately hard not to be one of them.