Page 18 of Outcast


  “Need you!” Stoneteller echoed scornfully. “What do you think you can do? Too many lives have been lost already, too much blood spilled—and that was your doing. You told us we needed a show of strength to defend our territory, but it didn’t work.”

  “But there was no territory,” Brambleclaw pointed out, taking a pace forward to stand beside Stormfur. “You need to mark your borders.”

  “We have never done that!” Stoneteller snapped. “That is not the way of the Tribe, and Stormfur knows it.”

  Stormfur bowed his head. Lionpaw exchanged a glance with Hollypaw, seeing his own anger reflected in his sister’s eyes. How stupid could this old cat be, not only to banish Stormfur from the Tribe but then to refuse the help he offered when he came back?

  “Stormfur did what he thought was best,” Squirrelflight broke in, her green gaze sparkling with annoyance. “So did Talon and Night. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in asking for help. Or would you rather let the Tribe die because you were too proud?”

  Stoneteller took a pace toward the ginger she-cat, his neck fur bristling. Lionpaw tensed his muscles to spring if the Tribe’s leader tried to attack his mother.

  Then the old cat’s tail drooped and the fur on his shoulders began to lie flat again. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting has sent me no signs about accepting help from the Clans.” Turning to Brambleclaw, he added, “I mean no disrespect to you or your Clanmates. I know how much we owed you in the past, and I believe you mean well now.”

  Brambleclaw opened his jaws to speak, but Stoneteller raised his tail for silence. “You should not have come,” he continued. “This is not your battle. You may stay here for tonight, but in the morning you will be escorted to the edge of the mountains, and you must not return.”

  “And how do you mean to stop us?” Breezepaw growled from just behind Lionpaw.

  For once, Lionpaw agreed with the WindClan apprentice. The Tribe didn’t have the strength to back up Stoneteller’s orders. But he guessed that Brambleclaw wouldn’t stay where the Clans weren’t wanted.

  “And what about us?” Brook demanded.

  Stoneteller turned his amber gaze on her. “We cannot feed two more hungry bellies.”

  Is that it? Shock froze Lionpaw’s paws in place and shivered through every hair on his pelt. Do we just turn around and go home without lifting a claw to help? He opened his jaws to protest, only to close them again when he caught Brambleclaw’s warning glance.

  “We’re guests of the Tribe.” Brambleclaw padded over and fixed all four apprentices with a stern gaze. “We mustn’t cause trouble.”

  “Not even when that stupid—”

  “No.” Brambleclaw sighed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, but we mustn’t make things worse. Do you all understand that?”

  “If you say so…” Lionpaw mewed reluctantly. Hollypaw and Jaypaw nodded agreement, and even Breezepaw growled, “Suppose so.”

  A gray-brown Tribe she-cat trotted across the cave toward them. “Hi, Brambleclaw,” she greeted him. “Remember me?”

  Brambleclaw put his head on one side. “Bird That Rides the Wind. You were with Talon when we first met.”

  “That’s right,” Bird purred. “It’s good to see you again. Stoneteller asked me to find you somewhere to sleep for the night. You and your warriors can come with me to the cave-guards’ place”—she flicked her tail toward one side of the cave—“and your apprentices can sleep with our to-bes.”

  Lionpaw stiffened, wondering if Stoneteller wanted to split up the Clan cats so they could be attacked more easily. But Brambleclaw agreed calmly, and common sense told Lionpaw that the Clans would have done exactly the same if a large group of cats had arrived to stay in their camps.

  As Bird led the apprentices farther into the cave, Lionpaw craned his neck to look around. By now night had fallen and the moon had risen, turning the waterfall to a sheet of tumbling silver and shedding a soft, wavering light throughout the cave. He could see scattered rocks around the edges of the cave, and here and there cracks in the walls that led up to narrow ledges. From the roof, high above his head, talons of stone pointed down to the cave floor.

  His belly rumbled as the scent of fresh-kill tickled his nostrils. At one side of the cave, Gray and his hunting party had brought in their eagle and were tearing it apart. I hope they give us some, Lionpaw thought. His last meal had been in the forest, which seemed like seasons ago now. There wasn’t much else on the fresh-kill pile: a couple of mice and a rabbit. No wonder they’re all so skinny!

  Bird took them to the back of the cave, where a pair of tunnels led off into darkness. A few tail-lengths away two young cats were wrestling while three or four others looked on.

  “These are our to-bes,” Bird announced.

  The wrestling cats broke apart and sat up to stare at the newcomers. “Who are they?” a pale gray she-cat asked. “Are they prisoners?”

  “No, Pebble, they’re guests,” Bird replied. “They’ll be staying with us tonight. Look after them and find them somewhere to sleep.”

  “What, all four of them?” a black tom exclaimed. “There isn’t room.”

  The gray she-cat gave him a hefty shove. “Don’t be so rude!” To the Clan apprentices she added, “Don’t pay any attention to Screech. He’s beetle-brained.”

  “Beetle-brained yourself!” Screech muttered.

  “You’ll be fine for one night,” Bird mewed briskly. With a friendly nod to the Clan cats she bounded back across the cave to where Brambleclaw and the others were waiting for her.

  Lionpaw felt embarrassed as the to-bes crowded around him and the others, sniffing at them curiously. “I’m Lionpaw,” he meowed, trying to sound confident. “This is my sister, Hollypaw, and my brother, Jaypaw, and that’s Breezepaw.”

  The gray she-cat dipped her head and stretched out one paw. The gesture surprised Lionpaw, though he had to admit it looked polite. “I am Pebble That Rolls Down Mountain,” she told them, “and this annoying furball is my brother, Screech of Angry Owl.”

  Screech curled his lip at his sister, before extending his paw in the same polite gesture. Lionpaw dipped his head in return, hoping the Tribe to-bes wouldn’t think he and the others hadn’t been mentored properly.

  “I’m Splash When Fish Leaps,” a small tabby she-cat added, bouncing up with her stubby tail sticking straight up. The other to-bes hung back, giving the newcomers doubtful looks.

  “You’ve come a long way,” Pebble commented. “I’ve never scented cats like you before.”

  Hollypaw began to tell the story of how Talon and Night had come to fetch them, but before she had reached the start of their journey she was interrupted by the prey-hunters, who padded over carrying pieces of the eagle in their jaws.

  “There.” Gray dropped his prey in front of the to-bes. “Plenty for all of you.”

  “Thanks.” Screech swiped his tongue around his lips. “This’ll be the first decent meal we’ve had in ages,” he added quietly to the visitors.

  “The intruders take all our prey,” Pebble explained sadly. “They watched us to see how we hunt, and now they’ve learned to do it themselves. There aren’t enough eagles to go around.”

  “Wait till I’m a prey-hunter,” Screech boasted. “I’ll soon find enough prey to feed all the Tribe.”

  “Yes, when eagles learn to talk!” his sister snapped.

  Lionpaw was afraid they would all have to wait to eat until the brother and sister had finished arguing. “It seems really strange to us,” he began, hoping to distract them. “We don’t split up the duties like that. We all hunt and fight.”

  “It can’t come naturally to you,” Splash mewed. “Learning all that must be really tough.”

  “It is,” Hollypaw agreed, to Lionpaw’s surprise. “But it’s fun, too.”

  “Stoneteller chooses what we’ll be,” Pebble told her. “Kits who look big and strong get to be cave-guards, and ones that look like they’ll run fast and leap high become prey-hunters. I’m go
ing to be a cave-guard.”

  Yes, fine, but when do we get to eat? Lionpaw’s belly was yowling in protest. He knew all this stuff anyway, from what Brook had told them back in ThunderClan territory.

  To his relief, Pebble and the other to-bes began dividing up the fresh-kill. The Tribe to-bes split into pairs; each cat took a bite out of its own piece of prey, then exchanged the food with its partner.

  “Maybe we’d better do that,” Hollypaw whispered. “Or they’ll think we’re really rude.”

  “Okay,” Lionpaw mewed. “You share with Jaypaw, I’ll have Breezepaw’s piece.”

  “Do what?” Jaypaw asked irritably. “Prey’s prey. Let’s eat.”

  Hollypaw crouched close to Jaypaw’s ear to explain to him what was happening, while Lionpaw tried not to make a face at the thought of eating prey that Breezepaw had bitten into.

  “Why’s she telling your brother what to do?” Pebble asked, raising her head from the fresh-kill she was devouring. “Why can’t he just copy us?”

  Lionpaw glanced uneasily at his brother, knowing how much Jaypaw hated it when cats talked about him as if he weren’t there. “Well, because he’s blind.”

  Pebble’s eyes stretched wide. “Wow, that’s really weird.”

  “How does he manage?” Screech asked curiously. “Do you have to lead him around by the tail?”

  Lionpaw saw his brother’s ears flatten. His jaws opened for a stinging retort, but Hollypaw slapped her tail across his muzzle. Jaypaw furiously spat out a mouthful of fur.

  “He may be blind, but he’s not deaf,” Lionpaw meowed, feeling annoyed for his brother but not wanting to start a quarrel. “And he manages just fine. Haven’t you ever seen a blind cat before?”

  “No,” Pebble replied, as if Lionpaw was foolish even to ask. “How can your Clan ever let him out on his own?”

  Lionpaw saw what she meant and shuddered. A blind cat wouldn’t last long in this rocky place. Even if it managed to avoid an eagle’s talons, it would probably fall over a precipice.

  “Jaypaw’s training to be a medicine cat,” Hollypaw put in, a touch of defensiveness in her tone.

  Pebble looked even more astonished at that, and most of the other to-bes pricked up their ears to listen.

  “That’s impossible!” Splash exclaimed. “How could a blind cat lead your Clan?”

  What? Lionpaw exchanged a glance with Hollypaw. “He won’t be leader.”

  “But you…oh, I see!” The puzzled look in Pebble’s eyes cleared. “In the Tribe Stoneteller is our Healer. And he picks out the cat who will be Healer after him. But I suppose you do things differently.”

  “We have a leader and a medicine cat,” Breezepaw explained, in a superior tone.

  “Weird…” murmured Screech.

  Privately Lionpaw thought the Tribe’s way was even more weird. How could Stoneteller make good decisions when he didn’t have a medicine cat to advise him? It didn’t look as if he even had a deputy. Maybe the Tribe could have come up with a solution to the problem of the intruders if every cat wasn’t so convinced that they had to do exactly what Stoneteller told them.

  “Hi. How are you getting on?”

  Lionpaw jumped when he heard Squirrelflight’s voice; she had padded up unseen behind him. “Fine, thanks.” He tried to sound convincing.

  “Great. But I think it’s time you settled down to get a good night’s sleep. It looks like we’ll have a long journey tomorrow.”

  Lionpaw gulped his last bite of eagle and glanced up at his mother. She didn’t look like her normal cheerful self; her tail trailed on the ground and her eyes were anxious. He guessed she felt they had made a huge mistake by coming so far, only to be turned away. Reaching up to brush his muzzle against hers, he wished he could comfort her and tell her that these stupid Tribe cats should be glad of their help, but it was impossible in front of all the to-bes.

  “Okay,” he meowed. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

  Squirrelflight brushed his shoulder with her tail, bent over to give Hollypaw and Jaypaw a swift lick around the ear, and padded softly away. Lionpaw’s gaze followed her as she headed across the cave to the other warriors, wishing he could be with them instead of a bunch of strange to-bes.

  “Come on,” Pebble mewed, flicking his ear with her tail. “I’ll show you where to sleep.”

  She led the apprentices to a place where several shallow dips had been scooped out of the cave floor. They were warmly lined with moss and feathers.

  “Choose any,” Pebble invited them.

  Lionpaw curled up in one of the larger hollows with Hollypaw and Jaypaw. At least the sleeping place was comfortable; for a moment he could almost believe they were back in the ThunderClan nursery. But in the nursery he had never had so many worries to keep him awake.

  He lay with his eyes slitted, watching the constantly changing light flickering over the cave walls and listening to the endless rumble of the waterfall. So much for standing on the hill overlooking the lake and feeling as if he could do anything. Their journey had come to nothing; these strange, proud cats were turning them away without even giving them the chance to help.

  Lionpaw let out a sigh. He had been desperate to make this journey for so long, to see the mountains for himself, and now that he was here, he just wanted to go home.

  CHAPTER 22

  Jaypaw heard his brother’s sigh and felt disappointment rolling off him like the waves on the lakeshore. He had picked up the same feeling from Hollypaw before she fell asleep, but he couldn’t share it. They had made it as far as the mountains, which was the main thing that mattered to him. His only worry was that he would be forced to go home before he had learned the secrets that awaited him here.

  He lay quietly in the warm nest, trying to build up a picture of the cave. He could locate the waterfall from the sound it made and identify where the cats were from their scent. There was a difference between cave-guards and prey-hunters, he discovered, just as there was between Clan and Tribe.

  Beneath their scents, he felt battered by the Tribe’s emotions, their sense of fear and vulnerability in a situation they could not control. And in addition, a desperate weariness, as if they were ready to give up their claim to live in the mountains.

  Where are their ancestors? Jaypaw wondered. Why aren’t the Tribe of Endless Hunting doing something to help?

  The image of Stoneteller rose in his mind, the grizzled tabby he had seen when he shared Brook’s memory of the battle and Stormfur’s banishment. The roaring of the waterfall grew louder, pulsing in his ears, until suddenly his eyes flicked open. He was standing on the exposed rocky outcrop where he had confronted Rock before. Stars glittered frostily above his head and an icy wind ruffled his fur. Stoneteller stood barely a tail-length away, with his back to him.

  Jaypaw darted into the shadow of a rock and peered out. Along the spine of stone another cat was approaching, a slender tabby like most of the Tribe cats, but with the shimmer of stars in his fur. Jaypaw pressed himself farther into the shadows. This must be one of the Tribe’s ancestors, from the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Curiously he wondered why Rock had brought him here in his earlier dream, if it was a place sacred to the Tribe.

  Stoneteller waited until the ancestor stood a fox-length away from him, then dipped his head. “Greetings,” he meowed. “What guidance have you come to give me?”

  For a moment the ancestor did not reply. Jaypaw thought there was an air of defeat about him, as if even the Tribe of Endless Hunting was sick of the fighting and ready to give up.

  “I have no guidance,” the ancestor replied at last. “Never in the Tribe’s history have we tried to fight an endless battle. Until now, the mountains have been protection enough.” His sigh was like the whisper of wind over the rock. “We can see no end to it.”

  “There must be an end!” Stoneteller protested. “My Tribe is dying. There must be something we can do.”

  The ancestor shook his head. “Not this time,” he mewed sadly. “We
thought this was a place of safety, but it is not.” He turned and began to pace away, fading into the shadows.

  “Wait!” Stoneteller took a step forward, lashing his tail, then halted, his head lowered in defeat. As if he was too exhausted to stay on his paws, he staggered to the shelter of a rocky overhang, flopped down, and closed his eyes.

  Instantly Jaypaw sprang out of hiding and raced along the stony ridge, ignoring the precipices on either side. After a few pounding heartbeats, the shape of the ancestor reappeared from the shadows, still pacing slowly away.

  “Wait for me!” Jaypaw called.

  The ancestor halted and glanced back over his shoulder. When his gaze fell on Jaypaw his ears flicked up and his eyes widened in shock. “You have come,” he whispered.

  Jaypaw stared at him. What did he mean? How could a cat from the Tribe of Endless Hunting recognize a Clan cat who had never set paw in the mountains until now?

  Before he could say anything, the cat spoke again. “Follow.”

  Jaypaw gulped. This wasn’t what he had imagined. But he was here now—and there were so many questions he wanted answers to. His paws carried him on almost against his will, as the ancestor crossed the last few fox-lengths of the ridge and set paw on a trail that led down into thick shadow.

  The narrow path, faint against the surface of the rocks, zigzagged across the face of a cliff. In the dim starshine Jaypaw couldn’t see the bottom. But at least I can see. This couldn’t be as bad as that awful journey yesterday, and it wouldn’t end in the humiliation of being carried like a kit. He pressed himself close to the rock face and tried not to think of how far he might have to fall.

  The ancestor padded on steadily, his pace never varying; now and again he glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Jaypaw was still following. Eventually he halted, beckoned Jaypaw with his tail, then leaped off the cliff and disappeared.

  Jaypaw’s claws scraped the stony surface of the ledge. Was he expected to launch himself into the shadows? If he didn’t kill himself, it would still break his dream, and he couldn’t bear to wake up until he’d had a chance to talk to the ancestor. But when he peered over the edge he saw the ground was only a couple of tail-lengths below. He jumped down easily and looked around.