Billystorm bent closer and gave him a long sniff. “That’s not blood,” he mewed. His eyes were sparkling with amusement, though he was clearly trying to keep it out of his voice. “It’s water.”
“What?” Hawkwing twisted around, trying to crane his neck so that he could see.
“Water,” Billystorm repeated. “The Twoleg kits were shooting it out of weird shiny things they held in their paws.”
Relief flooding through him, Hawkwing staggered to his paws. He could see that every cat, like Billystorm, was struggling to keep a serious expression, as if they were all trying to hide how funny they found his misadventure.
I suppose it is pretty funny, he thought. Duskpaw would be rolling on the ground with laughter if he were here now. . . .
But then Hawkwing noticed that Pebblepaw had turned away to hide her face, and in spite of her efforts her tail was curling up with amusement. Anger spurted up inside him, stifling his relief. Duskpaw isn’t here to laugh because of her. How dare she laugh at me!
“It’s not funny!” he yowled at Pebblepaw. “I could have been killed!”
Pebblepaw spun around to face him again. “With water?”
“Well, I could have drowned!”
Blossomheart let out a snort of laughter, and Hawkwing spun around to glare at her.
“Honestly . . .” Pebblepaw rolled her eyes. “Are you a mouse? Even a mouse couldn’t have drowned in that much water.”
Hawkwing slid out his claws, a breath away from leaping on Pebblepaw and scratching her ears. “Well, I know you don’t take death very seriously,” he snarled.
His gaze met Pebblepaw’s, and for a few heartbeats she stared back at him. Hawkwing could see that she understood he was referring to Duskpaw’s death. And I can see that I’ve hurt her. Well, she deserves it!
Billystorm’s eyes narrowed. He looked ready to step in, then clearly decided to let his apprentice fight her own battles.
“That’s totally unfair!” Pebblepaw protested to Hawkwing with a lash of her tail. “We were only having a bit of fun. I do take death seriously,” she added, clearly trying to calm down. “Never mind—I can see there’s no point trying to make you understand.” She shrugged, turning away.
Hawkwing didn’t want to listen anymore. With a furious hiss he whirled around and stalked off away from the Thunderpath, not waiting to see if any of his Clanmates followed.
The others soon caught up to him. “Take it easy,” Billystorm meowed. “Blaming another cat won’t lessen our grief. We still have a long way to go before we stop for the night, and we’ll only make it more difficult if we start quarreling among ourselves.”
Hawkwing simply grunted an acknowledgment of the senior warrior’s words. He felt as if no cat would ever understand what he was going through.
Padding forward, ignoring the rest of his Clanmates, Hawkwing decided that the only way to survive this quest was to keep to himself and not talk to any cat. I don’t even know if I’m being fair anymore—and I don’t care. All he could feel was the pain of missing Duskpaw.
He was glad when the sun went down and they could start looking for a place to make camp.
CHAPTER 6
Hawkwing stood staring up into the branches of a massive oak tree, wondering if it might be “the tree that splits into three” that Darktail had told them about. This was the third day since they had left camp, and already the sun was beginning to slide down the sky. Every cat was beginning to wonder whether somehow they had gone wrong and missed Darktail’s landmark.
“This must be it,” Billystorm meowed. “Look, the trunk splits into three about five fox-lengths up.”
The leaves had still not reached their greenleaf fullness, so it was easy to see how the huge thick trunk divided. And Hawkwing could see that this was clearly the wrong tree. If we take this as our landmark, then the whole quest is doomed, he thought. I have to say something. . . .
Hawkwing took a breath. This was the first time he had really spoken to his Clanmates since his outburst after the Twolegs’ attack.
“See how that branch splits again a tail-length away from the first fork?” He gestured at it with his tail. “So if you’re looking closely, the tree splits into four, not three.”
“Well, three of the branches are very thick,” Waspwhisker pointed out, “and the fourth one is much thinner. So maybe it shouldn’t be counted.”
Hawkwing felt his neck fur begin to bristle. “Of course it should! Any cat can see it divides into four, not three.”
“How great it must be, to be a young cat.” Waspwhisker’s tail-tip twitched irritably. “They know everything! Hawkwing, if you—”
“That’s enough.” Billystorm stepped forward. “I suggest we put it to a vote. Is this Darktail’s tree, or isn’t it?”
“I don’t think it is,” Hawkwing responded instantly, hurt by Waspwhisker’s snarky comment. We have to follow Echosong’s vision and find the other Clans. If we get this wrong, who knows what will happen? “I vote we carry on until we find a tree that really does split into three and not four.”
“You know what I think,” Waspwhisker huffed. “This is it, no question.”
“I agree,” Pebblepaw mewed with a glance at Hawkwing. He couldn’t read her expression, to know if she was voting against him just to be spiteful. Could she really be that petty? To risk the whole quest just to get at me?
“So do I,” Blossomheart added.
Hawkwing felt his shoulder fur beginning to bristle. Even my own sister won’t back me up!
Billystorm nodded. “I have to say, I do too,” he responded to Blossomheart. “Hawkwing, maybe Darktail didn’t look as closely as you did. At first glance, the tree splits into three.”
Hawkwing shrugged. He knew there was no point in arguing anymore, when he was outvoted four to one. I just hope Billystorm is right, otherwise we’ll never find the other Clans.
Following Darktail’s directions, Billystorm led the way toward the setting sun. It was already low on the horizon, staining the sky red and casting the cats’ shadows behind them.
Hawkwing realized that every cat except him was in good spirits, drawing new energy from finding the sign, and believing they were now only a short journey from the cats they had set out to find.
“I wonder what they’ll be like,” Blossomheart meowed. “The other Clan cats. Won’t they be surprised to see us!”
“I wonder . . . ,” Pebblepaw murmured awkwardly, concern clouding her gaze. “What will we do if the other Clans don’t want us to join them? After all, didn’t the same Clans drive us out, all those seasons ago? Isn’t that why SkyClan lives alone?”
“That was ages ago,” Hawkwing snapped, adding under his breath, “mouse-brain.”
Billystorm let out a sigh, ignoring Hawkwing’s comment. “Yes, that’s a sad part of SkyClan’s history. We had to leave the forest when we lost our territory, and the other Clans didn’t help. But Firestar told us that he regretted what happened. As far as we know, the rest of the present-day Clans will feel the same way. They have no reason not to welcome us.”
“But—” Pebblepaw began.
“We don’t know what will happen when we meet the other Clans.” Billystorm cut off his apprentice in a calm but firm voice. “But we have to believe that StarClan would not lead us astray.”
The younger cats fell silent, leaving Billystorm and Waspwhisker to chat casually as the patrol padded on through light woodland.
“I wonder what it will be like, meeting Firestar’s kin,” Waspwhisker meowed.
“I can’t wait.” Billystorm’s voice was warm. “According to Leafstar, he was such a great cat. Surely we’ve got a lot to learn from his kin.”
Hawkwing wasn’t actually sure what he felt about meeting the other Clans. He’d only argued with Pebblepaw because he couldn’t stand to agree with her. Privately he wasn’t at all sure that the old grudges would have been laid to rest.
He wondered too what it would be like to live close to other
cats, when SkyClan had been alone for so long. Will we have to change the way we do things?
The forest quickly grew denser, with more fern and bramble thickets between the trees. Soon the cats heard the sound of running water; heading toward it, they came out of a clump of elder bushes and found themselves on the edge of a small stream.
“We should follow this,” Billystorm meowed. “Darktail mentioned a stream.”
“He also mentioned a clearing,” Waspwhisker pointed out. “But I suppose if we follow the stream we might find that before long.”
The senior warriors were right. Almost at once the questing cats emerged from the undergrowth into a large clearing surrounded by mossy banks. Hawkwing felt embarrassed to realize that he had argued so vehemently about the tree, and now he had been proved wrong. To his relief, none of his Clanmates mentioned that, not even Pebblepaw.
And at least we are on the right track, so we should find the other Clans soon. If Darktail’s directions were correct, they were very close. Can it really be this easy?
“This must be Darktail’s clearing,” Billystorm mewed, glancing around.
“So we’re near the end of our quest!” Blossomheart exclaimed, clawing at the ground in excitement. “What did Darktail say—the Clan cats are two sunrises’ journey beyond this?”
Billystorm nodded. “That’s right. I suggest we make camp here, and—”
“What’s that smell?” Pebblepaw interrupted.
Hawkwing tasted the air and picked up a strong, musty scent; he had smelled it before, in the woods at the top of the gorge opposite the camp. “Badger,” he murmured. “Darktail said they used to live here.”
As the cats advanced farther into the clearing, the scent grew even stronger. Hawkwing noticed several dark holes in the mossy banks, too big to be rabbit burrows. The scent seemed to flow out of them.
All the hairs on the back of Hawkwing’s neck began to rise. “This scent is really strong. Do you think the badgers might still be here?” he asked. “Wouldn’t it be stale and faint if the badgers really had abandoned the place, like Darktail said?”
Before any cat could reply, Hawkwing spotted movement deep in one of the holes, and a wedge-shaped snout appeared. Hawkwing stood rigid at the sight of the white stripe down the badger’s muzzle and its bright, malignant eyes. As the badger emerged into the open, Blossomheart let out a screech; whirling, Hawkwing saw two more badgers thrust their way out of two different holes on the far side of the clearing.
Panic seized Hawkwing’s gut. Darktail was wrong! he realized as panic crashed over him. The badger den isn’t abandoned at all!
For a heartbeat it seemed as if every creature had been frozen into ice. Then the badgers plunged into the attack. The biggest of them headed straight for Blossomheart, its teeth bared. Blossomheart leaped backward, but her paws skidded and she fell. The badger lunged for her neck.
No!
Hawkwing sprang into action, flinging himself between his sister and her attacker. I’m not going to let another of my littermates get killed! The badger’s teeth sank into his shoulder, but Hawkwing barely felt it; his whole being was filled with terror for Blossomheart, and determination to save her, whatever it took.
“Leave her alone, mange-pelt!” he growled.
The badger began to shake him, lifting his paws off the ground. Then behind him he heard Blossomheart let out another screech. At the same moment she flew over his shoulder and landed on the big badger’s back, digging in her claws and raking at its ears as she tried to make it let go of Hawkwing.
The grip of the badger’s teeth loosened and Hawkwing tore himself free. He slashed his claws across the badger’s flank, then darted back out of range of its blunt, stripy head. The badger reared up on its hind paws, shaking its shoulders in an attempt to dislodge Blossomheart, but she clung on, still swiping at its ears.
In the moment of respite Hawkwing glanced across the clearing to see that the two smaller badgers were attacking Waspwhisker, Pebblepaw, and Billystorm from either side. The three cats had clustered together, back to back, to defend themselves. Hawkwing guessed these badgers were younger and less experienced than the one that had attacked Blossomheart, but their teeth and claws were still powerful and dangerous.
Hawkwing threw himself at the big badger again, springing up to claw at its shoulder, then leaping away. Maybe we can tire it out. . . .
The big badger at last managed to throw Blossomheart off. As she hit the ground she rolled over, underneath her attacker, and delivered a raking blow to its belly, then scrambled out on its other side and back to her paws. The badger let out a ferocious cry that echoed around the clearing.
As if in response, another badger emerged from the tunnels and lumbered over to join in the fight. It was even bigger than the first one, a furious glitter in its tiny black eyes as it focused on the cats.
Great StarClan! Hawkwing thought despairingly. Now we have to take on two of them! How many more are there?
Even though it was injured, the first badger was still a formidable opponent, and it seemed to draw new energy from the appearance of its denmate. Hawkwing crouched defiantly, ready to leap into battle again. The odds aren’t good, but I’m going to fight my hardest.
Then a speckled white blur flew across Hawkwing’s vision. Pebblepaw! The she-cat hurled herself at the first badger, slashed at its eyes, then whirled to swipe at the other one.
Both badgers let out roars of pain and began to back away. The one already injured by Hawkwing and Blossomheart turned and trundled off, back into its hole. The biggest badger remained slumped in the grass, clawing at the blood that trickled from around its eyes and down its nose.
Warm gratitude to Pebblepaw flooded through Hawkwing. And after I’d been so nasty to her! Then he realized that he had no idea what had happened to his other Clanmates.
Billystorm! Waspwhisker! Hawkwing thought, whipping around with Pebblepaw and Blossomheart to help them in their battle. Then his heart lurched; he could see now that Waspwhisker was limping on three legs, and blood was pouring from one of his ears. Beside him, Billystorm lay motionless in a pool of blood.
No! Hawkwing felt as if every muscle in his body had been turned to ice. I can’t imagine SkyClan without Billystorm—and he means so much to Leafstar! How will we manage without him?
Pebblepaw let out a screech and threw herself across the clearing, snapping and clawing as she attacked the badgers. Hawkwing and Blossomheart followed hard on her paws. The biggest badger joined in again, and the clearing seemed full of their reek and their snarling.
The sight of Billystorm’s body gave strength to Hawkwing’s fury as he leaped and slashed at the three attackers. But Pebblepaw seemed to be everywhere, a shrieking whirl of teeth and claws, flinging herself into the battle with no thought for her own safety.
She’s lost control, Hawkwing thought, anguished. She’s taking too many risks. She must want to avenge Billystorm.
At last the biggest badger let out a harsh cry. All three badgers began to retreat, and Pebblepaw harried them, biting and clawing at their hind paws as they lumbered across the clearing and vanished down their holes.
“Let them go! It’s over!” Hawkwing gasped to Pebblepaw.
Pebblepaw glanced at him, and Hawkwing saw in her eyes the same desperation he had felt when Duskpaw died. She turned back, panting, then raced across the clearing and flung herself down beside Billystorm’s body. Hawkwing’s heart lurched as he saw the massive wound slashed across the ginger-and-white tom’s belly. Blood seeped from it into Pebblepaw’s fur.
“Billystorm!” Pebblepaw exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulder. “It’s okay. They’ve gone.”
But Billystorm still didn’t move. Waspwhisker bent his head to touch the apprentice’s ear with his nose. “I’m sorry, Pebblepaw,” he murmured. “He’s dead.”
“No!” Pebblepaw flung her head back and let out a horrible shriek.
Hawkwing felt his heart twist with pain. All his annoyance
with Pebblepaw faded in the face of her obvious, inconsolable grief.
“Let’s carry him away from here,” he suggested. “We’ll find a place to sit vigil for him.”
Pebblepaw turned to face him with a blind stare, as if she wasn’t sure who he was. Then she bowed her head without speaking.
“What are we going to tell Leafstar?” Blossomheart whispered.
“The truth,” Waspwhisker responded, his voice hoarse. “Billystorm died a warrior’s death, defending his Clanmates.”
Hawkwing supposed that the senior warrior’s words should have been comforting.
But he also knew that nothing would comfort Leafstar once she learned that they’d lost Billystorm.
CHAPTER 7
Hawkwing staggered to his paws to give himself a long stretch, then shook dew from his pelt. All night he had crouched under the tree that split into three, keeping vigil beside Billystorm’s body. Now milky dawn light was creeping through the trees, banishing the shadows. The air was cool and dry, carrying the fresh scent of growing things.
Hawkwing felt stiff and light-headed, and still stunned by grief. His wounds had started to throb, but he almost welcomed the pain, because it helped to blur his memory of the battle and his uncertainty about the future.
It seemed impossible that the day before, they’d thought they might be mere sunrises away from finding the other Clans. Now, after they’d walked right into a badger attack, no cat could be sure if their directions were even accurate. If Darktail was wrong about the badger den, what else might he be wrong about? Hawkwing thought back to their dispute over the “tree that split into three.” What if he’d been right? What if it was the wrong tree, and they’d been following the wrong path ever since?
Looking at his Clanmates, Hawkwing shook out his pelt and sighed. Among all these questions, one thing was undeniable: Billystorm was dead, and Hawkwing had no idea what was going to happen next.
Who would have thought our quest would end like this?