“I can be the best tunneler ever.” Tallpaw turned and bounded up the bank.
“This won’t bring Sandgorse back, you know!” Barkpaw called after him.
“I know that! This is about me, not him!” Tallpaw marched back to camp, pelt twitching. Why can’t Barkpaw try to understand?
“Hey, Wormpaw!” Shrewpaw was waiting inside the camp entrance. “I hear you’re going to train where you belong, at last.”
Tallpaw shrugged. “Relieved that you don’t have competition anymore, weaselpaw?”
Reena trotted across the clearing. “Arguing again, Tallpaw?”
“He started it!” Tallpaw bristled.
Shrewpaw glanced at Reena. “Tallpaw would argue with his reflection in the spring,” he sniffed. “I can’t wait to train without him snarling at me.”
Tallpaw unsheathed his claws.
“Let all cats old enough to catch prey gather beneath Tallrock.” Heatherstar’s call made Tallpaw spin around. Was she going to announce his new mentor? Excitement rippled through his pelt. Would she choose Woollytail? Sandgorse would be pleased to see his old friend training Tallpaw. Tallpaw raced for the Meeting Hollow, leaping down onto the sandy earth as his Clanmates streamed across the clearing to join him. Tallpaw watched Dawnstripe sheathe and unsheathe her claws as she sat opposite him, her eyes round with worry.
Don’t be upset. Tallpaw felt a prick of guilt. Please understand that I have to do this.
Heatherstar stepped to the edge of the rock. “Meadowslip’s kits have brought new life to WindClan. Let us pray that Hopkit, Sorrelkit, and Pigeonkit grow into strong, healthy warriors.”
Murmurs of approval rippled though the Clan. Tallpaw lifted his chin. Me next. The WindClan leader caught his eye, her shoulders stiffening. Tallpaw paused. Is she angry about my change of heart?
“WindClan,” Heatherstar began, “you have known for some time that I have had doubts about our tunneling.”
“What is she talking about?” Plumclaw hissed.
“Hush.” Hickorynose stared up at their leader.
“Tallpaw has asked to train as a tunneler,” Heatherstar went on. “I can only admire his loyalty to the memory of his father. Sandgorse’s death shook us all. We will grieve him for many moons to come.” She glanced sympathetically at Palebird. “Tallpaw’s wish to learn the skills that led to his father’s death shows true courage.”
Tallpaw padded forward expectantly.
“However.” The sharpening of Heatherstar’s mew made him stop. “I have thought long and hard,” the WindClan leader went on. “And I’ve decided that there will be no more tunneling for WindClan.”
Tallpaw blinked. What?
“This is not a decision I take lightly, but I hope that many of you will support me.”
Reedfeather, at the base of the rock, nodded solemnly. Aspenfall and Cloudrunner exchanged approving looks.
“We do not need the tunnels,” Heatherstar explained. “Prey has run aboveground for many leaf-bares. We have improved our hunting skills, learned to work in teams. Even in the harshest weather, we have been able to catch prey aboveground.”
Plumclaw’s tail whipped over the sandy earth.
Heatherstar pressed on. “WindClan’s tunneling skills have served us well for countless moons, but a new dawn is coming. Our moor-running skills are more important. We have enemies to fight aboveground. And we must fight them. We can’t hide in our tunnels and hope they will go away. We must train hard and become warriors to equal any Clan.” She lifted her muzzle. “It will take time and effort, but we will become stronger than WindClan has ever been. In moons to come, the other Clans will fear us.”
“They fear us already!” Plumclaw yowled.
“You saw Stonetooth when ShadowClan attacked.” Heatherstar’s gaze fixed on the dark gray tunneler. “He spoke as though we were vermin to be cleared from the moor.”
“They think of us as rabbits!” Redclaw growled.
Aspenfall clawed the earth. “We must prove that we are warriors!”
“What about our tunneling skills?” Woollytail growled.
“They won’t be forgotten,” Heatherstar promised. “Our tunnelers won’t have to retrain as moor runners. Their duty now will be to block all the tunnels, making them safe for future generations of WindClan cats.”
“Block them?” Plumclaw stared at her in amazement. “What about all our hard work digging them?”
“I don’t want to lose another cat in those tunnels,” Heatherstar insisted. “And no more cats will train as tunnelers. Ever.”
Rage surged through Tallpaw. How could she deny him his entire future? “Then Sandgorse died for nothing?” he hissed.
Hickorynose padded forward and smoothed Tallpaw’s bristling pelt with his tail. “Not for nothing, Tallpaw,” he meowed gently. “His death will be the last death in the tunnels.”
Tallpaw stared at him. “You sound like you want to stop tunneling!”
Hickorynose glanced at the nursery. “I don’t want my kits to die like Sandgorse.” He dropped his gaze. “Or Leafshine,” he added, remembering the tunneler who’d died in the same accident that had crippled Lilywhisker. “But I’ll tell them of my days in the tunnels and make sure that WindClan will always remember what we achieved.”
Mistmouse nodded. “Stagleap, Doespring, and Ryestalk are happy as moor runners. Our young deserve to run with the wind in their tails.”
“Our days of hiding are over,” Cloudrunner declared.
“Hiding?” Disbelief flooded Woollytail’s gaze.
“Cloudrunner only meant that it’s time we faced the world with our heads held high.” Larksplash paced around him. “Once every cat in WindClan has battle skills, we’ll be the strongest Clan of all.” She glanced up at the sky. The thick bank of cloud had reached the sun. Rays spilled over the edge for a moment before the cloud swallowed them. “We live closest to StarClan. We will make our ancestors proud!”
“WindClan!” Shrewpaw began to cheer.
“WindClan!” Aspenfall joined in.
“WindClan!”
“WindClan!”
Tallpaw stared in shock as his Clanmates cheered for the end of the tunnels. Woollytail backed away from them. From the rim of the hollow, the rogues watched, their pelts pricking in surprise. Sparrow’s eyes were thin, yellow slits. Tallpaw showed his teeth. You started this when you killed Sandgorse. You’ve spoiled everything.
“Tallpaw.” Palebird’s mew startled him. He jerked around and met her gaze, a muzzle-length from his. “I’m glad you can’t become a tunneler.”
“But it’s what Sandgorse would have wanted!”
“He wouldn’t have wanted you to die as he did.” Palebird reached forward and touched her nose to his cheek. “And I couldn’t bear to lose another cat I love.”
Tallpaw stared at his mother in confusion. He couldn’t remember the last time Palebird had told him that she loved him. He should have been ecstatic. But Heatherstar had snatched away his dream. And all around him his Clan were cheering. Had everyone gone mad? He scrambled out of the Meeting Hollow and raced out of the camp, crashing through the heather. No one can stop me from being what I was born to be! He pelted upslope to the warren where Woollytail had helped them catch a rabbit. Sheep were grazing the moor beyond. They haven’t blocked the tunnels yet! The rising wind ripped at Tallpaw’s fur. Rain began to spray his muzzle. It hardened as he climbed, lashing his pelt by the time he reached the warren. I’ll teach myself to tunnel, like Shattered Ice!
Tallpaw stopped at the first rabbit hole he reached and stared into the darkness. A worm of fear stirred in his belly, and his breath quickened as he remembered the suffocating closeness of the walls and the roar of the river chasing him. Every hair on his pelt bristled. Don’t go down there! He pushed back the thought. I will be a tunneler! I’ll make Sandgorse proud of me! He dove into the tunnel, scrabbling to push himself through the narrow gap.
“Oh no, you don’t!”
Teet
h clamped around his tail and hauled him backward. Dawnstripe dragged him from the rabbit hole, her eyes blazing. “Those tunnels are out of bounds!” she spat. “Didn’t you hear Heatherstar?”
“I don’t care!” Rain battered his ears.
“You’re going to be a moor runner!” Dawnstripe yowled over the rising wind. “And I’m going to be your mentor until you get your warrior name.”
Tallpaw glimpsed two pelts streaking toward them. “Is he okay?” Hareflight called through the rain. Shrewpaw raced past his mentor and skidded to a stop on the grass in front of Tallpaw.
“Poor Tallpaw,” he snorted. “Won’t Heatherstar let you become a wormpaw?” He nodded toward the entrance. “Why not go down there anyway? You know you were born to live underground.”
“Shrewpaw!” Dawnstripe glared at the apprentice. “Show some respect to your Clanmate.”
Hareflight joined them. “Stop teasing him, Shrewpaw!”
“This has gone beyond teasing!” Dawnstripe snapped. “If Shrewpaw were my apprentice, I’d claw his ears.”
Shrewpaw flung a scorching look at Dawnstripe. “Why are you siding with a tunneler?”
Hareflight paced around Tallpaw. “You shouldn’t have run out in the middle of a Clan meeting,” he fretted. “You worried everyone.”
Tallpaw flattened his ears. “No one’s worried about me. I killed Brackenwing.” He thrust his nose toward Shrewpaw. “Remember?”
A growl rumbled in Shrewpaw’s throat.
“The visitors will think we can’t control our apprentices,” Hareflight went on.
Tallpaw turned on him. “Who cares what that bunch of rogues thinks?” he hissed. “If they had any sense of honor, they’d have left after they killed Sandgorse.”
Dawnstripe lashed her tail. “No one killed Sandgorse!”
“You’re hare-brained!” Shrewpaw snarled. “You’re an embarrassment to WindClan with your dumb accusations! Nobody likes you. You should be underground! We won’t miss you.”
Blood roared in Tallpaw’s ears. He lunged for Shrewpaw. Sinking his claws deep into his shoulders, he rolled the apprentice onto the soaking grass. Shrewpaw yowled, scrabbling at Tallpaw’s belly with his hind claws. Tallpaw raked his denmate’s muzzle, sending blood spraying across the grass before jaws closed around his neck fur and hauled him off. As Dawnstripe dropped him, Tallpaw shook out his pelt. Hareflight was holding Shrewpaw back by the scruff.
“Tallpaw!” Dawnstripe’s eyes were round with shock. “You can’t attack your Clanmate! No matter how he provokes you!” She pointed her muzzle toward the sheep. “Go and use up the rest of your anger collecting wool for the elders.”
Tallpaw stomped away, his pelt spiking as rain lashed it. His belly churned. Shrewpaw’s words rang in his ears.
Nobody likes you. We won’t miss you.
CHAPTER 21
Tallpaw shivered. The wind, which was whipping the moor, carried the chill of coming leaf-fall. While the Clan moved restlessly around him, he stared across the valley toward Highstones. Below him, the trees in the fields had turned as mottled as a tortoiseshell’s pelt, with flashes of orange and gold among the fading green leaves.
“Are you coming to say good-bye?” Dawnstripe called to him above the noise of the wind.
Tallpaw looked past her to the rogues lined along the ridge. They were leaving at last. In the two moons since Sandgorse’s death, Tallpaw had hardly been able to bear looking at them. Watching his Clanmates treat them as though nothing had happened—as though Sandgorse were still alive—soured every mouthful of prey. How could his Clan be so unfeeling?
“Come on,” Dawnstripe urged. “Heatherstar expects WindClan apprentices to show courtesy to our guests.”
Tallpaw’s tail twitched. “All right, I’m coming.” He followed Dawnstripe across the grass, passing Appledawn and Hickorynose. They had already said their farewells. Meadowslip had stayed in camp with her kits.
The elders were touching noses with the rogues. Lilywhisker leaned forward and pressed her muzzle to Bess’s. “Take care,” she rasped. “I hope leaf-bare treats you well.”
“Good-bye, Sparrow.” Flamepelt dipped his head. “Good hunting.”
Mole lifted his tail. “Thanks for sharing your den.”
Lilywhisker’s eyes misted. “We’ll miss your stories.”
Shrewpaw slid past Tallpaw and stopped in front of Reena. “You were a great denmate.”
Reena’s eyes glowed. “So you didn’t mind sharing with a rogue after all?”
Shrewpaw dropped his gaze. “Sorry if I was a bit unfriendly at the start.”
Reena winked. “You’re forgiven.”
Fur ruffling self-consciously, Shrewpaw hurried back to Hareflight’s side.
Heatherstar padded forward with Reedfeather beside her. “WindClan wishes you well.” She looked expectantly at Tallpaw. He was the only cat who hadn’t exchanged words with the rogues.
“I hope you find somewhere to stay,” Tallpaw meowed stiffly. And that you never come back.
Heatherstar seemed satisfied. She turned to Sparrow. “The WindClan that you’ve known for countless moons is on the edge of great change.” She glanced at Hickorynose and Woollytail standing side by side with Mistmouse and Plumclaw. “If you come again, you’ll find a Clan no longer divided into moor runners and tunnelers, but united as warriors, as strong as any Clan.”
Tallpaw pricked his ears. If you come again? Heatherstar had said if. Perhaps there wasn’t room for visiting rogues anymore. Tallpaw waited for Sparrow’s answer. Was he going to mention Sandgorse? Surely the rogue would acknowledge the cat who’d died so that he could look at WindClan’s tunnels?
Sparrow dipped his head. “I wish you all well.”
Was that it? Tallpaw stared at him in disbelief. It was as though Sandgorse had never existed at all.
Algernon stepped forward, purring. “Thanks for your kindness.”
Bess whisked her tail. “Let’s hope cold-season is kind to us all.” She turned and began to head downslope. Sparrow followed, Mole and Algernon at his heels. Reena bounded after her mother and fell in beside her.
Lilywhisker sighed. “Sparrow was a great hunter.” She eyed Tallpaw and Shrewpaw pointedly. “He always made sure the elders and queens had something to eat.”
“We won’t let you go hungry,” Tallpaw growled. He watched the rogues move over the grass below. Who knew where they were heading? They were already fading to specks as they neared the Thunderpath.
The wind pulled at Tallpaw as though it wanted to whisk him after them. He dug his claws into the grass. This is my home. He focused on the rogues again. Sparrow’s fur was a dark smudge against the grass. Rage surged in Tallpaw’s belly. How can you just leave? Sparrow would carry on with his life, unremorseful and unpunished while Tallpaw was left alone. Tallpaw fought to stop his pelt from bristling. Because of you, Heatherstar closed the tunnels. I can never follow in my father’s paw steps or live the life he wanted me to live. You killed him; then you destroyed his dream and mine.
“Tallpaw?” Doespring’s gentle mew jerked him back.
“What?” He shook out his pelt, suddenly realizing the grass at his feet was shredded. He sheathed his claws quickly.
“We’re leaving.” Doespring tipped her head toward their Clanmates. They were moving steadily across the moor like birds crossing the sky. Heatherstar headed the flock, Reedfeather at her side. Woollytail kept close to Palebird, their pelts brushing from time to time as they padded over the grass. Tallpaw narrowed his eyes. His father’s old tunnel-mate never seemed to leave Palebird alone now. He’d have to make sure that his mother didn’t mind.
“Come on!” Doespring bounded away.
Tallpaw plunged after her, his paws thrumming the earth. He slowed as he neared his Clanmates, not quite catching up while Doespring weaved among them and fell in beside Stagleap and Ryestalk.
He’d be a warrior soon, then a senior warrior like Hareflight. One day he’d be an elder, limpi
ng like Whiteberry and sharing stories from moons ago with his denmates. Above the vast sky stretched toward distant horizon. The Clan looked small and fragile beneath it. Was this it? His life laid out before him like an old story, told again and again through countless moons?
Tallpaw’s chest tightened. Suddenly he felt trapped, as though he were in the tunnels once again.
“Tallpaw!” Dawnstripe called from ahead. “Let’s hunt!” She veered away from her Clanmates, doubling back upslope. “I’ll race you to Outlook Rock!”
Tallpaw hared after her, running faster than the wind, desperate to escape the anxiety that beat inside him on frantic wings.
Tallpaw plunged through the gap in the heather and skidded to a halt in the clearing. Flanks heaving, he glanced over his shoulder as Shrewpaw burst through after him. Tallpaw flicked his tail. I beat you.
“I stumbled on a rabbit hole,” Shrewpaw panted.
“Shame.” Tallpaw headed for the prey heap. He’d been training all day and his belly was growling.
Lilywhisker and Flailfoot lay outside the elders’ den, basking in the dying sun. With leaf-fall coming, its warmth was fading. Lilywhisker sighed wistfully. “I wonder where Bess and Algernon are now?”
“The den’s too quiet without Mole’s snoring,” Flailfoot commented.
“I hope they’ve found a warm place to shelter,” Lilywhisker fretted.
The rogues had been gone for days, but the Clan kept chattering like birds, worrying where they were and how they’d find enough prey now that the weather was turning.
“I miss Reena,” Shrewpaw declared, stopping beside Lilywhisker.
Lilywhisker looked up at the apprentice. “She’d make a good warrior with the right training.”
Shrewpaw gazed at the moor that loomed up beyond the heather walls. “But she’d never give up traveling.”
Frowning, Tallpaw hopped over the tussocks. Reena would never give up eating other cats’ prey, or sleeping in nests that other paws had woven. That would be too much like hard work. He dragged a rabbit from the prey heap and carried it to a soft tussock beside the bracken patch. He liked to eat here. Sandgorse’s nest still carried his scent—stale now, but familiar.