by Erin Hunter
“Stormfur! It’s no use!” Brook wailed. “We can’t fight them all.”
“You go.” Stormfur’s voice was a hoarse growl; he touched his mate’s shoulder with his tail tip.
“Not without you.” Brook’s eyes were wide with fear, but she dug her claws into the thin soil.
Stormfur let out a hiss of frustration. “Go!” He gave Brook a hefty shove with one shoulder. “Go on—I’m coming.” Letting out one last snarl at the invaders, who were now barely a tail-length away, he raced upstream behind Brook.
The attackers didn’t bother to chase them. They just stood watching, their eyes gleaming with triumph, until the last Tribe cat had disappeared.
Jaypaw staggered, and when his vision cleared he found himself in the Tribe’s cave again. His pelt was still sticky with blood, but the noise of the battle had faded away. Silver light trembled on the cave walls as the moon shone through the falling water. The rushing of the river was the only sound.
Stoneteller was sitting on his rock, his fur ruffled and one ear dark with crusted blood. The rest of the Tribe was huddled around him. Jaypaw couldn’t see one of them who didn’t bear wounds from the battle. In the center of the cave several limp bodies were lying; Stormfur was stooping over one of them, and Jaypaw recognized the dark gray tom whose death he had witnessed.
“Jag,” Stormfur murmured. “You were a good friend. May you walk the mountains forever with the Tribe of Endless Hunting.” He bent his head and touched his nose to the matted gray fur. Quietly Brook padded up beside him.
“Come and rest,” she mewed.
But before the gray warrior could move, Stoneteller’s voice rang out from the other end of the cave. “Stormfur!”
The gray tom looked up.
“Stormfur, what have you to say?”
Stormfur’s eyes clouded. “What do you want me to say? The Tribe fought as well as it could have done. I couldn’t hope to stand beside braver warriors. We must make another plan, so that—”
“No.” Stoneteller’s voice was cold. “No more plans. Not from you. We took your advice, and we were defeated. Many good cats are dead.” His tail flicked once toward the bodies lying on the cave floor.
“I told you what would happen.” Rain was crouched at the foot of Stoneteller’s rock. “But would any cat listen?”
“I’m sorry—” Stormfur tried again.
“There is no place here for the ways of the Clans,” Stoneteller interrupted. “There is no place for Clan cats in the mountains. You will bring only more death and bad luck if you stay here. You must go and never return.”
“What?” Stormfur stared at him in disbelief. “You’re blaming me for this, when I—”
“Enough!” Stoneteller snarled. “Go now.”
Brook stepped forward. “Stoneteller, this isn’t right. Stormfur did his best to help us. He took the same risks as every cat. He could be lying there now, with Jag and the others.”
“If we hadn’t listened to him, those cats would still be alive.” Stoneteller’s gaze was colder than ice.
“He’s right, Brook.” Talon, standing beside Stoneteller’s boulder, flicked his ears uneasily. “Clan ways aren’t for us.”
Brook’s eyes widened; Jaypaw could feel the distress flooding through her as if it was his own. “But, Talon, you’re my brother.” Her voice quivered. “Can’t you understand?”
Talon scraped at the cave floor with his forepaws. “It’s what’s best for the Tribe.”
“Night?” Brook turned to appeal to the black she-cat. “We’ve been friends since before we were to-bes. We’ve hunted together. We fought together. Can’t you see that the Tribe needs Stormfur?”
Night’s green eyes narrowed. “I can see that you need Stormfur.”
Brook’s ears flattened and her jaws parted in the beginning of a snarl. “Are you saying I’m no longer loyal to my Tribe?”
Night turned her head away without answering.
“Enough of this,” Stoneteller meowed. “Stormfur, you are no longer welcome among the Tribe. You must leave at once.”
Brook’s tail fluffed up. “If he goes, I go!” she hissed.
“Brook, be careful,” Stormfur murmured.
The gentle prey-hunter’s eyes were blazing. “Do you think I could stay here, after this?”
“Stormfur is right when he says you should think about what you say.” Stoneteller rose to his paws, towering over the other cats from the top of his boulder. “Do you truly want to abandon your fate to this cat and his Clan? Can you trust him?”
“With my life,” Brook mewed.
Stoneteller’s contempt was obvious in the flick of his tail. “You have no more sense than a kit, after what this Clan cat has done to our Tribe.”
Stormfur arched his back and hissed. “You seem to have forgotten that my sister died for the Tribe. If it weren’t for Clan cats, every last one of you would have been eaten by Sharptooth.”
Jaypaw noticed that some of the Tribe cats—Talon included—looked uneasy, but none of them spoke.
“Come on, Brook.” Stormfur urged his mate toward the cave opening where the glittering water fell. “We’ll go and find the Clans.”
“Brook, if you leave now, you leave forever,” Stoneteller warned.
Brook didn’t even look at him as she and Stormfur padded away.
“Very well,” Stoneteller called after them. “I shall tell the Tribe of Endless Hunting that you are both dead to the cats you leave behind.”
CHAPTER 9
“Jaypaw! Hey, Jaypaw!” Jaypaw felt a sharp nudge in his side; Hollypaw’s scent drifted over him, tinged with exasperation.
He lurched on his paws, confused at the sudden return to blindness and the scents and sounds of the stone hollow. Every hair on his pelt still quivered with the feelings of grief and anger and betrayal he had felt in the cave.
Brook! he thought. I was feeling what she felt! And it wasn’t a dream; I’ve been awake all the time. Could I have found a way into her memories?
He drew in his breath sharply, full of excitement at the thought of a new and different power, but there was no time to explore it now.
“Jaypaw, I don’t know how you can daydream at a time like this,” Lionpaw mewed. “We need to listen to find out why these strange cats have come here.”
Jaypaw realized that while he felt as if he had spent several days with the Tribe, here in the clearing only a few heartbeats had passed. The newcomers were still crouched beside the fresh-kill pile, along with Stormfur, Brook, and Firestar.
“I think I know why,” he murmured. “And I don’t think Stormfur and Brook will be too pleased to see them.”
“What do you mean?” Hollypaw asked curiously. “Why wouldn’t they want to see their Tribemates?”
Before Jaypaw could explain—telling the story of his experience would have taken until moonhigh—he heard the harsh voice of Talon.
“Firestar, we have come to ask Stormfur and Brook to return to the mountains. The Tribe of Rushing Water needs them.”
Jaypaw felt his pelt prickling with excitement. The Tribe’s rejection of Brook and Stormfur still rang in his ears. But from the ThunderClan cats he picked up nothing but a cautious interest.
“What?” Stormfur’s voice was a low snarl of outrage. “How dare you come here and ask that? As far as the Tribe is concerned, Brook and I are dead!”
Jaypaw heard gasps of astonishment from the ThunderClan cats. “Told you,” he muttered to his littermates with a shrug.
“Stormfur, I think you’d better explain.” Firestar’s voice was calm, but Jaypaw could tell he was concerned for the two cats who had come to make their lives with ThunderClan.
Stormfur began to tell the story of the invading cats, but Jaypaw didn’t bother to listen. He had lived through it all, and he was far more interested in finding out how he had done it. I must have been inside Brook’s memories. He tried do it again, but the tabby she-cat was concentrating on what her mate was saying and
on the reactions of the other cats. Her memories were a blank.
Stormfur stopped at the sound of cats pushing their way through the thorn tunnel.
“Firestar!” Brambleclaw called out. “We scented intruders!”
“The intruders are here,” Firestar replied.
Jaypaw realized that Sandstorm and Squirrelflight were with Brambleclaw.
“Talon! Night!” Squirrelflight meowed. “I thought I recognized Tribe scent.”
“It’s strange to think that our mother and father spent so much time with the Tribe,” Lionpaw murmured.
“Well, we’re not the only ones who can have adventures,” Hollypaw purred.
“It’s great to see you both again,” Squirrelflight went on. “Why are you here?” She paused, then added, “And why is every cat looking as if the sky has fallen in?”
“I think you’d better hear what Stormfur has to tell us,” Firestar mewed.
The gray warrior began to speak again. Having seen him in Brook’s memories, Jaypaw could picture him now, strong and sleek-furred with anger smoldering in his blue eyes.
“Not long after the Clans left on the Great Journey,” Stormfur meowed, “another group of strange cats came to the mountains.”
“We thought at first they were only passing through,” Brook explained. “We would have welcomed them as guests for a while…”
“But they made it clear they wanted to settle,” Stormfur went on. “They took prey from the Tribe, even hunting close to the cave behind the waterfall.”
“Flea-bitten thieves,” Talon growled.
“We’d never had to share our territory before,” Brook meowed. “We drove out loners now and then, but we didn’t know what to do about such a large group of cats.”
Stormfur took up the story again. “I thought we needed a show of strength to defend our territory. And I led the Tribe cats into battle to make sure the strangers would know not to bother us or steal our prey.”
“They tore us to pieces,” Night mewed angrily.
“Tribe cats aren’t trained to fight like Clan warriors,” Stormfur explained. “We lost the battle and several cats died.” He hesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was filled with sorrow. “Jag was one of them.”
“Jag dead?” Squirrelflight exclaimed. “Oh, no—he helped us when we were stuck in the snow on the Great Journey.”
“We’ll all miss him,” Brambleclaw added. “Every cat who knew him.”
“Stoneteller blamed me for the deaths.” Stormfur’s voice sounded bitter as deathberries. “He banished me from the Tribe. Brook insisted on coming with me.”
“What else could I do?” Brook murmured, as if her words were meant for Stormfur alone. Jaypaw remembered seeing them together in the cave, their pelts brushing as they defied the leader of the Tribe.
“And what else could Stoneteller do?” Talon countered. “Cats were dead; something had to be done.”
“He told us we were dead!” Brook’s voice, so gentle a heartbeat ago, became a furious hiss.
“I can’t believe those Tribe cats dared to come here,” Hollypaw whispered into Jaypaw’s ear. “Not after what they did!”
“I’m so sorry, Stormfur.” Brambleclaw’s meow rumbled deep in his chest. “You should have told us before.”
“What good would it have done?” Stormfur demanded. “You made us welcome. We’re ThunderClan cats now.”
Jaypaw picked up a murmur from Brook, too low for him to make out what she said. She’s not a ThunderClan cat, he thought. She’s a Tribe cat and always will be. She’s never felt at home here.
Reaching out to her, he couldn’t enter her memory again, but he sensed that her mind was full of rock and wind, of cascading water and screeching birds high in the air, the shadow of their wings big enough to cover a whole patrol.
His attention snapped back to the clearing as Talon began to speak. “We have come to ask for your help.”
A swift intake of breath came from Stormfur, but he didn’t interrupt.
“Stoneteller was wrong.” Talon sounded awkward. “The other cats are stealing all our prey, and the Tribe is dying of hunger.”
“And how is that my problem?” Stormfur asked icily.
“I understand how you feel,” Talon meowed. “I was banished once, when I failed to kill Sharptooth, and I know. But—”
“It was only because of Stormfur and the other Clan cats that you were able to come back to the Tribe,” Brook reminded him.
“That’s true. But I was able to forgive the Tribe when I knew I could do something to help them. Besides, Brook, you’re my sister, and I miss you. I want you to come home. You may live under the shadow of trees here, with grass under your paws, but you still belong to the Tribe.”
Jaypaw heard a long sigh from Brook. “I will come back with you. I cannot let my Tribemates suffer, not if there is something I can do for them. Stormfur…” There was a catch in her voice. “You do not have to come. You are not a Tribe cat.”
“Where you go, so do I,” Stormfur told her. “That’s what you said when Stoneteller banished me. Do you think I would do any less for you? I will never forgive Stoneteller for killing me in the eyes of the Tribe, but that is no reason to let your kin suffer.”
“I’ll go too.” Jaypaw’s ears pricked up in astonishment at the sound of Brambleclaw’s voice. “My paw steps have been entwined with the Tribe’s before. I will honor our friendship.”
Jaypaw sensed Stormfur’s surprise. “You don’t have to do this,” the gray warrior meowed.
“Yes, I do. What the Tribe needs now are strong, fit warriors. How can they defend themselves when they’re weakened by hunger and constant fighting?”
“I’m coming too!” Squirrelflight sounded as if her mind was made up. “You didn’t manage to leave me behind last time, and I wasn’t even a warrior then.”
“Firestar?” Brambleclaw asked. “What do you think? May we go?”
Jaypaw’s belly tightened as he waited for Firestar’s answer. He hadn’t had the chance to work out what this might mean for him, yet he knew it was really important for ThunderClan warriors to go to the mountains. But Brambleclaw was Clan deputy; would Firestar let him leave the Clan?
“Yes, you may,” Firestar meowed. “The Tribe gave the Clans food and shelter on the Great Journey. It is our turn to help them. It’s for Stormfur and Brook, too,” he added. “You’ve been loyal ThunderClan cats. We owe you for your help after the badgers attacked.”
“Thank you.” Talon’s voice was husky with relief. “All the Tribe of Rushing Water thanks you for this.”
Jaypaw was aware of excitement and shared purpose surging from the warriors. His paws itched to share it. But even if ThunderClan warriors were traveling to the mountains, would they ever let an apprentice join them?
CHAPTER 10
Every hair on Lionpaw’s pelt prickled with excitement. The moment he’d longed for had come—the chance to go to the mountains! Four ThunderClan cats wouldn’t be enough to deal with the invaders, not if they were as strong as Stormfur and Talon said. Surely StarClan had arranged this, so that he could go visit the Tribe and find out about them, and show them how real warriors lived.
His claws scratched the earth floor of the hollow as the walls loomed overhead, closing him in. He had never felt so confined before. The weight of stone seemed to press on his fur. He wanted to race up the nearest cliff and run through the forest, across the hills, all the way to the mountains, with the wind in his fur.
“Calm down,” Jaypaw mewed. “They’re hardly going to take apprentices along!”
Lionpaw rolled his eyes. “Jaypaw, I wish you wouldn’t keep reading my mind.”
“You mean you want to go to the mountains?” Hollypaw asked.
“They’ll need more cats,” Lionpaw pointed out, ready to defend himself. “Four’s not enough. But Jaypaw’s probably right,” he added, his excitement fading as he realized that what the Tribe needed was help from experienced warriors.
“They won’t take apprentices.”
“Hollypaw wants to go, and so do I,” Jaypaw announced unexpectedly. “Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight are going, so why shouldn’t we see if we can go too? Even if they say no, they can’t claw us just for asking.”
“You really want to go?” Lionpaw meowed to Hollypaw.
She bounced to her paws, her tail fluffed out and her whiskers quivering. “I want to find out how the Tribe cats live. I’ve never met cats who are different from us. We could learn a lot.”
Jaypaw murmured agreement, though he said nothing about his own reasons for wanting to go. But that was Jaypaw, Lionpaw reflected; he always buried his thoughts deeper than hidden prey.
“I want to know what else there is besides the forest, too,” he confessed. “I know this is ThunderClan’s home, but there are loads of other territories out there. What are they like?”
“Well, then, we should—” Hollypaw began, breaking off as Firestar rose to his paws.
“We need to discuss this,” he meowed, “but my den is too small for all the cats who are going. Let’s go into the forest.” Glancing at the other cats who stood listening, he added, “Graystripe, Sandstorm, Leafpool, you come too.”
Lionpaw watched as the cats headed toward the thorn tunnel. The rest of the Clan seemed reluctant to go back to their dens or return to their duties. They huddled together, their eyes doubtful.
“There’s no way we should risk our own warriors to help the Tribe,” Spiderleg complained, loud enough for the departing cats to hear him. “Haven’t we got enough problems of our own?”
Firestar’s ears flicked as if he had heard what the young warrior said, but he didn’t stop to reply before vanishing down the tunnel.
“Things are pretty peaceful right now,” Whitewing pointed out.
“Whitewing’s right.” Ashfur rose from where he was sitting between Cloudtail and Brightheart. “We can easily spare a few warriors. Brambleclaw’s doing the right thing by helping the Tribe. Remember what they did for us when we made the Great Journey? We would have died in the snow if they hadn’t found us.”