The kit blinked. “What are fields?” Before Squirrelpaw could reply, he added, “I’m going to be a cave-guard.”
“That’s nice,” Feathertail mewed.
“’Course, I’ve got to be a to-be first.” “Tooby? What’s a tooby?” asked Crowpaw.
Stormfur hid his amusement at the scornful look the kit gave the WindClan apprentice. “To-be a cave-guard, of course. You know, training and stuff. Don’t you new cats know anything?”
“He means an apprentice,” Stormfur explained, and couldn’t resist adding, “Like you.”
Crowpaw curled his lip as the kit stared at him and exclaimed, “You’re only a to-be? You’re way old!”
“It sounds as if they have some of the same traditions as us,” Tawnypelt murmured.
“I wonder if they believe in StarClan?” Squirrelpaw whispered.
“It’s too far for them to go to Mothermouth,” meowed Stormfur, “and no cat has ever seen them there.”
“Stoneteller mentioned the Tribe of Endless Hunting,” Feathertail remembered. “Perhaps that’s what they call StarClan.” Her blue eyes stretched wide and her voice was uneasy as she added, “Or do you think they have different warrior ancestors?”
“I don’t know,” Brambleclaw replied. “But I guess we’ll find out.”
When he finished eating, Stormfur had not felt so comfortably full since they left the woods where they said goodbye to Midnight and Purdy. He would have liked to sleep, but as he swallowed the last mouthful and swiped his tongue around his jaws he spotted Stoneteller making his way towards them with three other cats. One of them was Crag; the others were she-cats, though neither of them was Brook. Stormfur felt faintly disappointed. The young she-cat had shown courage and friendliness when they first met, and he had looked forward to seeing her again.
“You have eaten well?” Stoneteller asked as he approached.
“Very well, thanks,” Brambleclaw replied. “It’s good of you to share prey with us.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Stoneteller sounded surprised. “The prey is not ours—it belongs to the stones and the mountain.”
He sat down in front of the forest cats, wrapping his tail neatly round his paws. The other three cats gathered round him, but remained standing. Brambleclaw looked expectantly at them.
“Crag you already know,” meowed Stoneteller, introducing his companions. “He is the leader of our cave-guards, the cats who protect this place,” he added, when the Clan cats looked confused. “This”—he flicked his tail towards the younger of the two she-cats—”is Mist Where Sunlight Shimmers. She is one of our best prey-hunters.”
Mist dipped her head and blinked with friendly interest at the forest cats.
“And this,” Stoneteller went on, indicating the other she-cat, “is Star That Shines on Water. For now she is a kit-mother, though when her kits are grown she will go back to being a cave-guard.”
“You all have different duties, then?” Tawnypelt questioned, as the other forest cats murmured greetings.
“We do,” Stoneteller replied.
“Do you choose the best fighters to be cave-guards, and the fastest cats to be prey-hunters?” Stormfur asked, fascinated in spite of his wariness.
Stoneteller twitched his whiskers in disagreement. “No. All the cats in our Tribe are born to their duties. That is our way. But tell us something more of yourselves,” he went on, interrupting Squirrelpaw as she was about to ask another question. “Why are you making this long journey? We have never seen cats like you before.”
Brambleclaw gave Stormfur a sideways glance and muttered, “What do you think? Do we tell them?”
“I think we have to tell them we were sent by StarClan.” Stormfur breathed his reply close to the tabby warrior’s ear, aware of how acute the mountain cats’ hearing was. “Otherwise they might think we’re outlaws. But don’t tell them why we had to make the journey in the first place,” he added. “We don’t want to sound weak.”
Brambleclaw nodded. Clearing his throat self-consciously he began to explain about the dreams each of the four chosen cats had received from StarClan, and the saltwater signs that had led them to the sun-drown place where they had met Midnight.
More of the Tribe cats gathered warily around to listen. Stormfur spotted admiring glances from them as Brambleclaw spoke of the dangers they had faced, but there were a few suspicious mutterings too, as if some of them found it hard to trust the strangers.
“Don’t worry,” he put in, when Brambleclaw paused in his story. “StarClan hasn’t sent us to fight you. They didn’t say anything about meeting you, in fact.”
“StarClan?” Mist echoed, glancing at Stoneteller in bewilderment. “What is StarClan?”
Stormfur heard Tawnypelt stifle an exclamation of surprise. Feathertail was right after all; these cats were not guided by StarClan. His fur prickled as he suppressed a shiver at the thought that perhaps StarClan was not watching over him and his friends in this strange place.
“Do not be troubled,” Stoneteller meowed, touching Mist’s shoulder with the tip of his tail in a reassuring gesture. “Not all cats believe as we do, and we must respect that which we do not know. Ignorance is nothing to be afraid of. Please”—he gestured toward Brambleclaw with one paw—”continue.”
“So at last we came to the sun-drown water and discovered that Midnight is a badger,” Brambleclaw explained. “She told us the meaning of StarClan’s prophecy, and now we’re going home to tell our Clans.”
“A prophecy?” Stoneteller meowed. His green gaze was fixed on Stormfur in a stare of eerie intensity. “Then you too have visions of what is hidden?”
“Well, sometimes we have dreams,” Tawnypelt explained. “But mostly our medicine cats interpret signs for us—clouds, the flight of birds, the fall of leaves . . .”
“This I do also,” Stoneteller mewed.
He broke off as a group of cats appeared in the cave entrance. Rising to his paws, he murmured, “Forgive me. These are cave-guards, returning from patrol. I must hear what they have to tell me.” Dipping his head, he walked off to meet the leader of the group.
Mist and Star stayed with the forest cats. Stormfur was struck again by how anxious the Tribe cats looked, and he realised that so far he had not seen any of them enjoying themselves: no apprentices play-fighting, no warriors sharing tongues, or elders gathering to exchange gossip and stories. The whole Tribe seemed to live in an atmosphere of suppressed fear.
“Are you OK?” Tawnypelt meowed to Mist, echoing Stormfur’s thoughts. “You look worried. Is something wrong?”
“Are you being attacked by another Tribe?” Squirrelpaw added.
“No, there are no cats to attack us,” Star replied. “There are no others in the mountains that we know of. How could there be another Tribe when we guard the Cave of the Pointed Stones?”
“What’s that?” meowed Crowpaw.
His question was ignored.
Mist exchanged a swift glance with Star and murmured, “Should we tell them?” Stormfur barely caught the words and realised that he had not been meant to hear.
A hiss came from one of the Tribe cats who had crept closer to listen to the conversation. More than one of them looked scared or angry with Mist.
“What are you afraid of?” Stormfur persisted, his fur beginning to prickle with dread of the unknown.
“Nothing,” Star replied. “Or nothing we may speak of.” Rising to her paws, she dipped her head and began to walk away, gesturing with her tail for Mist to follow her. Mist gave the forest cats a backward glance, her eyes filled with fear, before she vanished into the shadows at the back of the cave. The other cats too began to creep away.
Mystified, Stormfur turned to Brambleclaw, and saw his own apprehension reflected in the ThunderClan cat’s amber eyes. “What was all that about?” he muttered.
Brambleclaw shook his head. “StarClan knows. But whatever it is, it’s obvious that something is frightening them. I wonder why they don’t wan
t to tell us what it is.”
CHAPTER 10
Leafpaw gazed along the line of hostile WindClan cats, and locked eyes with a bracken-coloured apprentice. The young cat drew its lips back in a snarl; Leafpaw’s fur prickled. She was a medicine cat and supposed to be outside normal Clan rivalries. But she found her claws instinctively flexing into the soft moorland grass; if it came to a fight, that apprentice would soon discover that she was not lacking in warrior skills.
“Well?” When Firestar did not immediately answer his question, Tallstar repeated it. “Why have you come? Do you think we’re so weak that you can drive us out as Brokenstar did?”
Defiant yowls and hisses broke out from the warriors behind him, and it was a moment before Firestar could make himself heard.
“Tallstar, you have known nothing but friendship from me since the time that Greystripe and I found you and brought you home,” he replied. “Have you forgotten that? I think you must have, or you wouldn’t accuse me of being like Brokenstar.”
Leafpaw thought she detected a flash of guilt in the older cat’s eyes, but there was still a challenge in his voice as he meowed, “Then why have you come here with so many warriors?”
“Don’t be absurd, Tallstar,” Firestar growled. “I haven’t enough warriors to take on your whole Clan. We want to talk to you, that’s all. WindClan have been stealing prey from ThunderClan territory, and you know as well as I do that that’s against the warrior code.”
Tallstar looked taken aback, as if he genuinely hadn’t known what his warriors were up to. Before he could reply, his deputy Mudclaw called out, “Prove it! Prove that WindClan has stolen so much as a sniff of prey!”
“What?” Leafpaw saw Greystripe’s whole body stiffen. “We saw you ourselves just now! And we found prey bones reeking of WindClan scent.”
“So you say,” Mudclaw sneered. “If you ask me, it’s just an excuse to attack us.”
Furious, Greystripe launched himself across the border, his claws reaching out as he bowled over the WindClan deputy. Mudclaw let out a screech and the two cats rolled on the short moorland grass.
Tallstar gazed down at the two battling warriors with a look of contempt, as if he had found maggots in his fresh-kill. Warriors on both sides were poised to spring, their teeth bared and the light of battle in their eyes. Leafpaw’s heart beat faster as she tried to remember the fighting moves her mentor had taught her.
Firestar stepped forwards with a fierce hiss. “Stop!”
At once Greystripe broke away from Mudclaw’s raking claws and stood back, breathing heavily. Mudclaw scrambled to his paws and glared at him.
“Greystripe, I told you we were not here to fight,” Firestar meowed.
The deputy’s yellow eyes were smouldering. “But did you hear the lies he told?”
“Yes. But that doesn’t change my orders. Get back on to our side of the border. Now.”
His tail twitching angrily, Greystripe obeyed. Leafpaw understood how he must feel, especially when he was still worrying about his missing children, but she could also guess how uncomfortable it must be for Firestar when his friend and deputy disobeyed a direct order, and in full view of WindClan. She stifled a sigh. Was this part of being a medicine cat, to understand every cat so clearly and want to sympathise with them all?
Cinderpelt limped forwards to stand beside Firestar. “You know that medicine cats do not lie,” she meowed to Tallstar. “You know, too, that it is not the will of StarClan for warriors to trespass on the territory of other Clans and steal their prey.”
“And is it the will of StarClan for my Clan to starve?” Tallstar asked bitterly. “Yesterday one of our elders died, and he will be the first of many if we don’t do something.”
“If we could help you, we would,” Cinderpelt replied with feeling. “But ThunderClan is short of prey too. The whole forest is suffering because of the Twolegs.”
“We should work together,” Firestar added. “I swear to you by StarClan that if ThunderClan finds an answer to these problems, we will share it with WindClan.”
Tallstar met his gaze with a long, thoughtful look, his bitterness dying away and leaving deep sorrow behind it. “An answer? Firestar, I don’t think that even you can find an answer to our troubles. Unless you let us hunt on your territory.” Even while he was speaking, he shook his head, to show Firestar he did not make that suggestion seriously. “No, you are right to keep your own prey. The warrior code demands that you feed your own Clan first. WindClan does not look to you for help.”
Firestar dipped his head to the WindClan leader. “Tallstar, we promise you that ThunderClan has not lied to you. There will be no fighting now, but if the prey-stealing doesn’t stop, you know what to expect.”
He turned and walked away, gesturing with his tail for his warriors to follow him. As they withdrew, yowls of derision rose from the WindClan warriors, as if they had fought a battle and driven invaders away from their territory.
Leafpaw felt her neck fur rise, half expecting the rival Clan to pursue them like the warriors had pursued her and Sorreltail a few days before. But the sounds died away behind them as Firestar led the way around the top of the hollow at Fourtrees and down the slope towards the stream.
“Why didn’t we fight it out?” Dustpelt demanded. “We could have taught them a lesson that they wouldn’t forget in a hurry!”
“I know,” Firestar sighed. “But as I said before, the Clans cannot afford to turn on one another.”
“And when our patrols catch WindClan stealing prey again?” Dustpelt’s tail twitched; he was short-tempered at the best of times, and Leafpaw knew how anxious he was about Ferncloud and their kits.
“We’ll see them off if we catch them trespassing,” Firestar promised. “But let’s pray to StarClan that Tallstar sees sense and keeps his warriors on their own territory. I don’t think he knew what was going on until today.”
“Maybe not. But he’ll back his own warriors now.” Dustpelt paused, his brown tabby fur bristling as if he could see his enemy in front of him.
“Why don’t you go and hunt for a bit?” Firestar suggested. “See if you can find a bit of fresh-kill for Ferncloud.”
Dustpelt glanced at him, his neck fur beginning to relax. “OK, I will.” In a reluctant growl he added, “Thanks.” Swiftly he turned and disappeared into the thicker vegetation beside the stream.
Firestar watched him go, his expression full of sorrow. Leafpaw could hardly bear to see his frustration and hopelessness. She knew he would never give up, not before the monsters had destroyed every last tree in the forest. But it looked like the time when that might happen was drawing near, and what would Firestar do then?
As she followed him across the stream towards the ThunderClan camp, she struggled yet again with the guilt she felt about not telling her father what she knew about Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw. Perhaps now was the time to speak up, to relieve some of his anxieties about them, and to assure him that StarClan knew about the suffering in the forest and had their own plan to relieve it. But what would Firestar say to her, when she had kept silent for so long? Leafpaw shrank at the thought of his anger.
Seeing that Cinderpelt had dropped a little way behind the other cats, she wondered if her mentor might have the answer. She could tell Cinderpelt; the medicine cat would understand, and perhaps help her to pass the news on to Firestar.
Leafpaw waited for her mentor to catch up to her. “Cinderpelt . . .” she began, anticipating the medicine cat’s usual sensible, no-nonsense advice.
But when Cinderpelt turned to her, her blue eyes were clouded with pain. “I’ve heard nothing from StarClan,” she mewed without giving Leafpaw the chance to speak first. “Have they abandoned us? It can’t be their will for the Twolegs to destroy us all.”
As if to emphasise her desperation, the roar of the Twoleg monsters thundered in the distance. Though she couldn’t see them from here, Leafpaw could picture all too clearly the garish, glittering pelts and the vast black
paws that tore up the forest as easily as Dustpelt’s claws had torn the grass moments before.
She brushed comfortingly against her mentor. “Suppose StarClan spoke to us in another way?” she suggested, feeling her heart begin to pound. The whole forest was turned upside down, if apprentices knew about prophecies that had not been sent to older cats.
“What other way? They haven’t sent me a single dream or a sign.”
“They might have sent it to another cat.”
“To you?” Cinderpelt rounded on Leafpaw with her blue eyes blazing. “Have they?”
“No, but—”
“No, StarClan are silent.” Cinderpelt’s brief flash of energy vanished and her tail drooped. “They must want something from us, but what?”
Leafpaw found it impossible to go on. Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to speak after all. How would Cinderpelt feel if she found out that StarClan had chosen to speak to inexperienced warriors, and send them on the journey instead of the medicine cats? She felt so lonely and confused that she instinctively tried to reach out to Squirrelpaw and share her sister’s thoughts. But she found no comfort there. All she could sense was darkness, and the noise of rushing water.
“Leafpaw! Are you coming?”
With a jump, Leafpaw realised that Cinderpelt was several tail-lengths ahead of her.
“Sorry!” she called back, and plodded on at the rear of the patrol, her head bowed down by her fears for StarClan’s chosen cats and for all the forest. And, most of all, for Squirrelpaw—wherever she was.
CHAPTER 11
Moonlight shone into the cave, turning the waterfall into a sheet of rippling silver. Stormfur felt as though the day had lasted for a moon, and now even the shallow, sandy dips in the cave floor were looking as comfortable as his nest among the reeds back home.
Stoneteller had returned and shown the forest cats to sleeping hollows at the side of the main cave, their curved sides lined with a sparse layer of moss and feathers. “You may rest here,” he meowed. “Stay many days—for as long as you want. You are all welcome.”