The Blazing Star
THANKS
With special thanks to Cherith Baldry
DEDICATION
To Roberta
ALLEGIANCES
CLEAR SKY’S CAMP
LEADER CLEAR SKY—light gray tom with blue eyes
FALLING FEATHER—young white she-cat
LEAF—gray-and-white tom
PETAL—small yellow tabby she-cat with green eyes
QUICK WATER—gray-and-white she-cat
NETTLE—gray tom
SNAKE—gray tom
THORN—mangy tom with splotchy fur
KITS BIRCH—brown-and-white tom
ALDER—gray-and-white she-kit
MORNING WHISKER—tiny she-kit
MOTHFLIGHT—she-kit with green eyes
DUST MUZZLE—gray tom-kit
TALL SHADOW’S CAMP
LEADER TALL SHADOW—black, thick-furred she-cat with green eyes
GRAY WING—sleek, dark gray tom with golden eyes
JAGGED PEAK—small gray tabby tom with blue eyes
DAPPLED PELT—delicate tortoiseshell she-cat with golden eyes
SHATTERED ICE—gray-and-white tom with green eyes
CLOUD SPOTS—long-furred black tom with white ears, white chest, and two white paws
WIND RUNNER—wiry brown she-cat with yellow eyes
GORSE FUR—thin, gray tabby tom
THUNDER—orange tom with amber eyes and big white paws
KITS LIGHTNING TAIL—black tom
ACORN FUR—chestnut brown she-cat
OWL EYES—gray tom
PEBBLE HEART—brown tabby tom with amber eyes
SPARROW FUR—tortoiseshell she-kit
RIVER RIPPLE’S CAMP
LEADER RIVER RIPPLE—silver long-furred tom
NIGHT—black she-cat
DEW—she-cat with a short, thick gray coat and bright blue eyes
ROGUE CATS
HOLLY—she-cat with prickly, bushy fur
MOUSE EARS—tom with ears the size of a mouse’s, missing part of one ear
MUD PAWS—tom with four black paws
STAR FLOWER—golden she-cat with green eyes
ONE EYE—mangy tom with knotted fur and one eye
MAP
CONTENTS
Thanks
Dedication
Allegiances
Map
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Bonus Scene
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Back Ads
About the Author
Books by Erin Hunter
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
PROLOGUE
Gray Wing crouched at the top of the hollow, the faint sounds of his sleeping denmates just barely reaching his ears. The fat, white circle of the moon floated above his head, casting a frosty light over the moorland grass.
A gentle breeze ruffled Gray Wing’s pelt. His eyes grew heavy, and he opened his jaws wide in a yawn.
He was sitting in the cave behind the waterfall. The gushing cascade glittered in the moonlight, and tiny specks of silver whirled across the walls and floor of the cavern. I’m back in our mountain cave! he thought. It’s been so many moons since we left!
Movement beside the far wall caught Gray Wing’s gaze. Stoneteller, the Tribe’s Healer, was pacing toward the tunnel at the back of the cave, which led to her den. Her paw steps were unsteady with age, her body scrawny and her pelt thin. She’s so old, Gray Wing thought. I can’t count how many seasons she’s seen.
Gray Wing glanced around. He saw his mother, Quiet Rain, curled up in her sleeping hollow, and the rest of his Tribemates were asleep too.
There’s Dewy Leaf . . . oh, she’s had her kits! Three of them, and they look so strong and healthy. And there’s Snow Hare. She used to tell such wonderful stories.
Curiosity swept over Gray Wing. When he lived in the cave he had never entered the Healer’s private den. But I’m dreaming! he realized. Maybe I can follow her now, and she’ll never know. He rose to his paws and padded after her.
But Stoneteller had vanished by the time Gray Wing reached the mouth of the tunnel. All he could see was a faint silver glow at the far end. Ignoring the prickling of his pelt, he slipped softly down the dark passage toward the light.
As he approached the end of the tunnel Gray Wing crept forward more cautiously and stretched his head into Stoneteller’s cave. He stifled a gasp as he gazed around.
The cave was much smaller than the one where the Tribe lived. Moonlight flooded through a jagged hole far above, washing everything with a frosty light. Stoneteller sat with her back to Gray Wing, gazing upward.
Pointed stones stretched down from the roof of the cave, and more of them grew up from the floor. Several met in the middle, so that it seemed as if the Tribe’s Healer was sitting in a forest of stone trees. Ripples of water trickling down the stones shone in the moonlight and gathered in pools on the floor.
Fascinated, Gray Wing crept into the cave, drawing closer to Stoneteller as quietly as if he was stalking a piece of prey. He was sure that he hadn’t made a sound, but before he could dart out of the way, Stoneteller extended a paw to halt him. Gray Wing yowled in alarm.
This is a dream, he told himself. How can Stoneteller know I’m here?
“Why are you following me?” Stoneteller asked. Her voice was gentle, though she didn’t turn to look at Gray Wing.
His ears flattened in mingled fear and embarrassment. He had no idea how to respond. “I don’t mean any harm,” he protested. “I . . . er . . . I just wanted to . . .” His voice trailed off and he gazed up at Stoneteller, bracing himself for a sharp rebuke.
Sighing, Stoneteller drew her paw back. “You came here because I invited you,” she meowed, her voice full of wisdom. “I allowed you to follow me. I called you here.”
Every hair on Gray Wing’s pelt prickled with amazement and he raked his claws across the hard, damp floor. “You can do that?” he whispered. “Even though I live so far away?”
Stoneteller looked at him for the first time. “Part of your heart will always belong here.”
Gray Wing knew that was true. Though life in the mountains had been harsh and cold, sometimes he still longed for the thunder of the waterfall and the sharp peaks outlined against the sky. And I still miss the cats I left behind . . . especially Quiet Rain.
“Then why—” he began.
“Be quiet,” Stoneteller mewed.
Her trembling whiskers were angled toward a spider spinning its web in the silvery moonlight. Gray Wing spotted some flies caught at the edge of the net; the spider was making her slow way over to them, the shining strands quivering with her movement.
Gray Wing stifled a mrrow of laughter. That’s going to be one fat spider very soon.
With a sudden flash of movement Stoneteller leaped up and raked her claws through the web, shredding it into scraps. Gray Wing let out a gasp as the spider hurtled down. Instantly it sent out a strand of web, halting its fall so it could lower itself slowly
to the ground. It scuttled out of sight, its home destroyed.
“Why did you do that?” Gray Wing asked, staring at Stoneteller.
The Healer returned his stare. “Never mind that,” she meowed. “What did the spider do?”
That’s a really dumb question, Gray Wing thought. But I can’t tell Stoneteller that! “Well, the spider saved herself,” he replied.
“Yes, it did,” Stoneteller agreed. “And what will she do now?”
What is this? Gray Wing asked himself, beginning to feel irritated. I’m not some kit who needs to be taught how to groom myself! Taking a deep breath, he answered, “She’ll build a new web.”
“That’s right,” Stoneteller mewed. “Wisdom and a long life come from being flexible. One day soon, you will need to be just as flexible. You will have to be strong for yourself, and for other cats. You already know that life is hard. It’s about to become harder.”
Apprehension thrilled through Gray Wing from ears to tail-tip. He let out a snort of surprise and distress. “Can’t you tell me more than that?” he demanded. “Can’t you be more specific?”
Stoneteller’s voice softened and she dipped her head sympathetically. “It’s not for me to plan out your future, Gray Wing. I can only give you guidance. You must make your own decisions, but you will need to be strong—stronger than ever before.”
She glanced over Gray Wing’s shoulder. Turning his head to follow her gaze, Gray Wing seemed to see all the way down the tunnel to where his mother, Quiet Rain, was still asleep in her hollow. A deep ache awoke in his heart. It’s been so long since I left her in the mountains. So long since I felt the soft touch of her fur.
“Make your mother proud,” Stoneteller instructed. “Remember who you are and where you come from. I’m telling you these things because I know you’re strong enough to listen. A great destiny awaits you and your friends, Gray Wing—but it won’t wait forever. . . .”
CHAPTER 1
“It’s time to bury our dead,” Tall Shadow declared.
The black she-cat’s words dragged Thunder’s attention back to the death and devastation all around him.
Everywhere beneath the branches of the four oak trees the moonlight showed him pools of drying blood and tufts of torn-out fur. Cats lay on their sides in the trampled grass, their eyes open and their faces frozen in expressions of pain or shock. The anger that had made them fight had vanished like mist under the morning sun. Now every cat looked vulnerable, the living as well as the dead.
Thunder caught the flapping of a black wing from the corner of his line of vision, and turned to spot a crow as it alighted on a low branch. Its tiny, bright eyes flicked greedily from cat to cat. A shudder ran through Thunder from ears to tail-tip, and his fur bristled.
Tall Shadow is right. No cat should be left here as food for scavengers, not when they’ve given their lives in such a bloody battle.
He felt as if he were carrying a heavy, wet rock in his chest in place of his heart—somehow, he knew that everything had been leading up to this terrible battle: No matter what any cat could do, nothing could have stopped it. Cat against cat, claw against teeth—all because of arguments over territory. A vision of blood splashing against bark flashed behind his eyes and he shuddered. Spirit-cats had come to visit them in a vision, to tell them that fighting must stop. I want it to, Thunder thought now. But how do we claw our way back to peace?
Thunder struggled to find meaning in this devastation, but it was like groping blindly through thick fog. Now we’ve all seen that fighting tooth and claw over territory brings nothing but death and destruction, pain and grief. Thunder wondered whether the cats they had lost today had died so that could be understood.
“There are so many,” Thunder meowed as he moved forward to stand beside Tall Shadow, picking his way carefully among the bodies. “How can we protect them?”
Tall Shadow stretched out one foreleg, and thoughtfully slid out her claws. “This is what spilled blood,” she responded. “And this is what will make things right.”
Make things right? Thunder thought, bewildered. He knew what the she-cat meant, but almost unbearable pain pierced him at her words. What could possibly make things right?
“However long it takes,” Tall Shadow went on, “we will make a hole in the ground, big enough for all our fallen friends to lie in together. In life, they were torn apart; in death, they will be united.”
Thunder felt every hair on his pelt prickle at the words Tall Shadow had chosen. Unite. That was what the spirit-cats told us at the end of the battle. Unite or die. “Yes, this is what we should do,” he mewed hoarsely.
Gray Wing, Wind Runner, and River Ripple gathered around, murmuring their agreement.
“It will take a lot of effort from every cat,” Gray Wing warned them.
“Then we must make that effort,” Tall Shadow insisted. “Only the earth will be able to protect our fallen denmates from crows and foxes.”
As she and the other cats began to scrape at the ground, Thunder noticed that his father, Clear Sky, was standing silently a couple of fox-lengths away. He looked reluctant to step forward and join in.
Thunder padded over to him, reflecting that it was not so long ago he and his father had been fighting to the death. At his approach, Clear Sky dipped his head, deep shame in his blue eyes. “I caused this,” he rasped, as if he was fighting the urge to wail aloud. “It was my anger that created the chaos, my anger that brought these cats into the battle that killed them. So many of them . . .” he added in a whisper.
Memories crowded into Thunder’s mind: Clear Sky’s first rejection of him when he was a kit; their long estrangement, followed by Thunder’s shock at his father’s harsh methods when he tried to live with him in the forest; their arguments and their latest parting when Thunder’s paws couldn’t walk his father’s path any longer.
But in spite of all that, Thunder was unable to repress a surge of sympathy. “Come on,” he mewed encouragingly. “Let’s do right by those cats who sacrificed themselves.”
When Clear Sky did not protest, Thunder led him across to the others, who had already begun to dig in the shadow of the four trees. No cat spoke as they scraped and clawed at the ground, the hole growing bigger and bigger.
Already tired from the battle, Thunder felt his legs begin to ache as his paws grew black with dirt, and his vision blurred from exhaustion. Yet he forced himself to go on. The harsh caw of a crow sounded somewhere overhead, and he found himself digging even faster.
At last Tall Shadow stood back, shaking off the earth that clung to her paws. “That should be big enough,” she panted. “Now let’s bring our friends over here.”
Most of the cats divided into pairs, gripping the dead cats with their jaws and dragging their limp, lifeless bodies over to the grave. But Thunder found himself alone, standing over the body of Hawk Swoop. Her orange tabby fur was clotted with blood, and a cruel gash gaped in her throat.
Thunder felt sharp claws clenching around his heart as he remembered how Hawk Swoop had cared for him when Gray Wing first brought him to the hollow after he had been driven out of the forest by his father. His shoulder fur bristled as his gaze scoured the clearing and alighted on Clear Sky; he was padding up to the body of Rainswept Flower, whose life Clear Sky had taken just before the battle began.
They knew each other since they were both kits, Thunder thought, revulsion welling up inside him.
Then he heard his father’s voice, a low, grief-stricken murmur. “I’m so sorry.”
Clear Sky was truly mourning his dead friend.
The guilt will hurt him more than any cat’s claw ever could.
His heart still weighing heavy in his chest, Thunder dipped his head to take Hawk Swoop’s scruff in his jaws. Her fur was soaked with the taste of death, and he had to fight hard not to recoil. Her body was limp and heavy now that the life had run out of her. I can see why the other cats worked in pairs, Thunder thought as he tugged her toward the hole.
&n
bsp; Before he had gone many paw steps, he caught a flash of black fur. He turned his head to see Lightning Tail, with his sister, Acorn Fur, hovering behind him.
“Please let us help,” Lightning Tail meowed.
Thunder nodded, knowing how right it was that the two younger cats should help to bury their mother.
The black tom gripped Hawk Swoop’s tail, his green eyes filled with sorrow as his teeth met in her orange tabby fur. Acorn Fur worked her shoulder underneath her mother’s belly. With their help, Hawk Swoop’s body suddenly seemed lighter, and in only a few heartbeats Thunder, Lightning Tail, and Acorn Fur carried her to the edge of the grave.
Panting as he recovered from the effort, Thunder took a step back. Lightning Tail and Acorn Fur stood over their mother’s body, their heads drooping and their shoulders sagging. Exchanging a grief-stricken glance, they put their noses to the ground and pushed Hawk Swoop into the hole. At the last moment their eyes closed as if they couldn’t bear to see her tumble and flop onto the pile of bodies.
“No day could ever be worse than this one.”
The raspy, wheezing voice startled Thunder, who whipped around to see Gray Wing. Beyond him, through the trees that still bore their last few ragged leaves, Thunder could see the line of the moor, bare and bleak under the frosty sky.
“The days ahead can only be better,” the gray tom mewed.
Thunder straightened up, raising his head with an instinctive pride. Gray Wing is right, he thought determinedly. We’ll make sure we never feel grief like this again.
“Hawk Swoop, I’ll never forget you.” Lightning Tail spoke from the edge of the grave, his voice throbbing with sorrow.
“Neither will I,” Acorn Fur added. “We’ll both miss you so much.”
At their words, other cats gathered around the hole to gaze down at their fallen friends.
Shattered Ice crouched at the side of the grave, his gaze fixed on his friend Jackdaw’s Cry. “We’ll never dig out tunnels together again,” he mewed in a voice rough with grief. “The hollow won’t be the same without you.”
“But you have not died in vain,” Cloud Spots added, standing so close to Shattered Ice that their pelts brushed. “None of you have. We shall learn from this terrible day, we promise you.”