by Erin Hunter
“Brackenfur has enough experience,” Mousefur suggested. “He is young and strong and has earned his warrior name many times over.”
Rainwhisker nodded. “Brackenfur would be a good deputy.”
“Why are you talking like this? Greystripe is not dead!” Firestar spat. “He is still our deputy.” The bristling fur along his spine warned the other cats not to argue. He shook himself and blinked, calming down. “But you are right. Someone must carry out Greystripe’s duties. So until he returns, the senior warriors shall share them.” He glanced at Brackenfur. “You shall organise the new hunting patrols. Sandstorm can organise work within the camp. Brambleclaw, you can help me try to convince ShadowClan and RiverClan that we must leave the forest together.” He stalked towards the overhang, and as he passed Leafpaw he called to her, “I want to speak to you,” he meowed. “Alone.”
Leafpaw followed him uneasily to the hollow. She glanced down at Cody, who was still in the makeshift nursery. The kittypet was busy washing Birchkit, ignoring the tiny kit’s mews of complaint. Ferncloud lay sleeping beside them. Feeling relieved that the cat who needed it most was resting, Leafpaw ducked beneath the overhang into the shadowy cavern.
Firestar looked urgently into her eyes. “Leafpaw,” he meowed. “You must tell me if you have had any sign from StarClan.”
“No, nothing,” she answered, surprised by his intensity. “What about Cinderpelt?”
“She has heard nothing either.” Firestar blinked. “I was hoping they might have spoken to you.”
Leafpaw shifted her paws awkwardly. Though she was pleased her father had such faith in her, she felt uncomfortable that he thought StarClan might share with her rather than the Clan’s medicine cat.
“Why are they so quiet?” Firestar continued angrily, unsheathing his claws against the cold stone floor. “Are they trying to tell us each Clan must look after itself rather than leave the forest together?”
“I felt the same when the Twolegs captured me,” Leafpaw admitted. “StarClan did not visit me once in my dreams while I lay in that stinking cage. I felt as if I was utterly alone. But I wasn’t.” She returned her father’s solemn gaze. “My Clanmates came to rescue me.”
Firestar opened his eyes wide as she went on. “StarClan won’t do anything to keep the Clans together. They don’t have to. Being one of four Clans—not two, not three, but four—lies within our hearts, just like the ability to track prey and hide in the forest shadows. No matter what the other Clans say, they cannot turn away from the divisions, the differences, the rivalries that bind us. The line that separates us from WindClan or RiverClan is also the line that connects us. StarClan know this, and it is up to us to have faith in that connection.”
Firestar stared at his daughter as though he were seeing her for the first time. “I wish you could have known Spottedleaf,” he murmured. “You remind me of her.”
Touched beyond words, Leafpaw lowered her gaze. She sensed that this was not the time to tell her father that Spottedleaf had spoken to her in dreams several times. It was enough that Firestar thought her a worthy companion of the former ThunderClan medicine cat, who padded tirelessly through the stars, watching over her Clanmates.
She just hoped with all her heart that Spottedleaf, and their other warrior ancestors, would come with them when the Clans finally abandoned the forest.
CHAPTER 10
Firestar led the patrol upriver, keeping close to the border where tempting prey-scent drifted across the water from RiverClan’s territory. Squirrelpaw padded behind him in step with Brambleclaw, while Ashfur brought up the rear. It was the first time in days that she and Brambleclaw had left the camp together. Firestar had taken the tabby warrior with him to RiverClan and ShadowClan, to plead with them once more to leave the forest. He’d done his best, but Leopardstar and Blackstar both still refused to believe that their future lay with the other Clans, far from their forest home.
Clouds had rolled in overnight, and freezing drizzle hung under the trees, refusing to fall as proper rain but still soaking everything it touched. Squirrelpaw’s fur clung uncomfortably to her body as the dampness soaked into her pelt. The trees shone wetly in the bleak leaf-bare light and dripped water on to the fallen leaves below, turning the loose, crisp piles into slippery clumps.
Suddenly Firestar stopped and lifted his nose to scent the air. Squirrelpaw took a deep breath, hoping to catch the welcome aroma of mouse or thrush or vole. But there was no prey-scent coming from this side of the river, only something that seemed strange and familiar all at the same time.
“I think I recognise that smell,” she whispered to Brambleclaw.
“It smells like a rogue,” Brambleclaw growled.
“Hush!” Firestar commanded. He paused, then dashed forwards with his hackles raised. The bushes ahead shivered and a tawny cat burst out. As it streaked away Brambleclaw yowled a battle cry, joining the chase.
“Come on!” he called, but Squirrelpaw was already charging after him.
The tawny cat swerved towards the scent-markers at the RiverClan border. Firestar headed after it without slackening the pace. Squirrelpaw felt a jolt of alarm as she neared the warning scents. The ThunderClan cats were gaining on the rogue as she pelted over the border. The moment Firestar’s paws crossed the line in pursuit, a furious yowl sounded close by, and a dark brown RiverClan warrior leaped from a swath of bracken, snarling viciously.
Firestar turned, skidding on the wet leaves, and stopped barely over the border. Brambleclaw and Ashfur almost crashed into him, but managed to stop in time.
“Hawkfrost!” Brambleclaw gasped.
Firestar took a step backwards over the border. But he continued to stare at Hawkfrost, his eyes stretched wide as though he were staring into the face of a StarClan warrior. Squirrelpaw was surprised that Hawkfrost’s ambush had shocked her father so much. It was hardly strange to encounter a warrior patrolling this close to the border, when every cat in RiverClan knew how close their neighbours were to starvation.
“What are you doing on RiverClan territory?” Hawkfrost demanded.
Firestar did not answer at first. Then he seemed to recover himself, letting his fur lie flat and relaxing his shoulders. “I was chasing that rogue out of ThunderClan territory,” he replied. He glanced at the tawny she-cat who had halted behind Hawkfrost. “Why challenge me when you have allowed a rogue to cross your borders?”
Hawkfrost exchanged a long look with the rogue before he answered. “My mother will always be welcome in RiverClan,” he meowed.
Sasha! Suddenly Squirrelpaw recognised the rogue she had helped escape from the Twoleg nest. She felt the mild triumph of curiosity satisfied. It was common knowledge that Hawkfrost and his sister, Mothwing, had been left in RiverClan by their rogue mother, though she hadn’t stayed in the forest long enough to be known by other Clans.
But Firestar seemed to have more unanswered questions, because he stood rigid, staring at mother and son with his ears pricked.
With a small dip of her head, Sasha meowed a greeting. “I have heard much about you, Firestar,” she murmured. “It is . . . interesting to meet you at last.” Her voice was icy and dignified, and Squirrelpaw felt self-consciously young and awkward by comparison.
“So you are Sasha?” Firestar meowed softly, his eyes glittering.
“You look as if you expected something else,” Sasha suggested.
Firestar’s gaze swept along her well-groomed pelt. “You don’t look like a rogue.”
“And you don’t look like a kittypet,” Sasha countered. Squirrelpaw winced, but her father showed no anger. Instead he met Sasha’s proud gaze evenly.
“I have often wondered why a rogue would choose to leave her kits with a Clan.”
“Why would a Clan make a kittypet their leader?” Sasha responded. She did not wait for an answer. “Not all cats are true to their birthright, Firestar. Some choose their own path.”
Firestar narrowed his eyes. “Are you such a cat?”
“Will you stay with RiverClan awhile?” Hawkfrost invited her. “We have plenty of prey.” He cast a mocking glance at Firestar, but Firestar didn’t react. He simply watched, his eyes still narrowed in thought as Sasha gave her answer.
“I won’t stay long,” she told him. “But I would like to see Mothwing before I leave.”
Hawkfrost curled his lip at Firestar. “I shall send a patrol as soon as I get back to the camp to make sure you have not been stealing RiverClan prey,” he warned.
“We have no need to steal,” Firestar retorted. He looked at his patrol. “Come on.”
Though the air still crackled with tension, Squirrelpaw knew that the danger had passed. Hawkfrost and Firestar turned from each other and padded away from the border. She prepared to follow her father, but before they had reached the safety of the trees, Firestar halted and called out to Sasha. His voice was strangely calm.
“Tigerstar was their father, wasn’t he?”
Sasha didn’t seem surprised by the question. She nodded. “Yes, he was.”
The ground lurched beneath Squirrelpaw. No wonder Firestar had looked so surprised when Hawkfrost had leaped out in front of him. He must have thought it was Tigerstar himself, granted a tenth life. He’d seen Hawkfrost before at moonlit gatherings, and at the disastrous meeting at Fourtrees the other night, but perhaps this was the first time they had come face-to-face in daylight.
Then she heard a gasp beside her and saw Brambleclaw standing with his eyes wide. “But Tigerstar was my father too!” he croaked. “Does this mean I have kin in two other Clans?”
Hawkfrost flicked his gaze to his half kin. “I’m surprised you hadn’t guessed,” he meowed. Squirrelpaw looked from one cat to the other, finally noticing the similarities in their tabby pelts and powerful shoulders.
“I thought Tawnypelt and I were the only ones . . .” Brambleclaw murmured.
“At least you had a chance to know our father.” Hawkfrost twitched his tail. “I envy you that.”
“I learned more from Firestar than I ever did from Tigerstar,” Brambleclaw retorted.
“But still, Tigerstar knew you. He never even set eyes on me.”
Squirrelpaw felt a twinge of sympathy for him, knowing how much she cherished her relationship with her own father, but she pushed it away. There was something about the RiverClan warrior that she didn’t trust.
Hawkfrost’s gaze hardened. “Get away from this border,” he warned, kneading the ground with his long, hooked claws—claws like those of the black-and-gold tigers that elders described in their stories; claws that had given his father his warrior name. “I will defend my Clan against any cat if I have to.”
He turned and led his mother down to the river, and together they waded through the water and disappeared into the bushes on the other side. Squirrelpaw watched them go in silence, knowing he meant his threat.
CHAPTER 11
The rain grew heavier as Firestar led the patrol back to camp. Squirrelpaw was disappointed with how little prey they had caught. Brambleclaw had managed to scramble up an oak and catch a squirrel dozing in the crook of a branch, but the effort had left him breathless, and Squirrelpaw realised that the hungry days since they had returned to the Clan were beginning to have an effect on them both.
“I think it’s best if we don’t tell the others what we learned about Hawkfrost,” Firestar decided as they trekked through the dripping trees.
“But shouldn’t the Clan be prepared in case”—Squirrel paw faltered—“in case anything happens?” she finished lamely.
Brambleclaw dropped the squirrel he held in his jaws. Rain-water streamed from his whiskers. “I think Firestar’s right,” he agreed. “It would be better for the Clan if they didn’t know.”
Squirrelpaw narrowed her eyes. Was it the Clan Brambleclaw was interested in protecting, or himself? Was he afraid of what the other cats would say? He had struggled long enough already to prove his loyalty, and yet no cat could forget his father’s efforts to destroy ThunderClan.
“There’s no point stirring up unnecessary hostility,” Firestar went on.
Ashfur gave a low growl. “But what if Hawkfrost shares his father’s ambition to take over the whole forest?” He clearly shared Squirrelpaw’s secret fear.
“We mustn’t jump to conclusions,” Firestar warned. “It’s clear that Hawkfrost’s first loyalty is to his Clan. He said he would fight to defend them. Does that sound like Tigerstar to you?”
Reluctantly, Ashfur shook his head, and Firestar went on. “Hawkfrost is no threat to us.”
“Yet,” Ashfur mewed pointedly.
“Until he proves he is, there’s no need to worry the rest of the Clan,” Firestar continued. “We might need RiverClan’s help before this is over.”
Ashfur swished his tail in frustration, but did not argue.
“Don’t worry, Ashfur,” Squirrelpaw reassured him. She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. “Hawkfrost is just Hawkfrost. Tigerstar has left nothing bad in the forest except memories.”
Brambleclaw picked up the squirrel without commenting and padded away towards Sunningrocks. Squirrelpaw cast an anxious glance at her father.
“He’ll be OK,” he meowed quietly as he brushed past her.
By the time the cats reached Sunningrocks, rain was battering the exposed rock, and water ran down in rivulets, turning the earth around the rocks to mud. But instead of finding shelter, the cats were gathered halfway up the slope, huddled in a circle. Moans of sorrow mingled with the rattling of the rain on the stone.
With a startled mew, Firestar bounded up the rock, and Squirrelpaw followed, pushing through the cats with her heart beating in her throat. A small dark brown shape lay in the center, pelted by rain which turned pale red as it streamed away down the stone. Squirrelpaw stared down at the limp, sodden body, too shocked to speak as she recognised the narrow muzzle. It was Shrewpaw.
Cinderpelt and Leafpaw crouched beside the apprentice.
“His neck is broken,” Cinderpelt murmured. “He must have died as soon as the Twoleg monster hit him. He would have felt no pain.”
Squirrelpaw closed her eyes. StarClan, what are you doing? she yowled silently.
A desolate cry sounded from the nursery hollow, and Ferncloud hurtled down the slope. Shrewpaw had been one of her first litter. The cats parted to let her see her dead kit.
“What have I done to StarClan that they would steal so much from me?” she wailed.
“Don’t blame StarClan,” Leafpaw mewed gently. “It is the Twolegs that have done this.”
“Why didn’t StarClan stop them?” Ferncloud sobbed.
“They are powerless against the Twolegs, just like we are,” Leafpaw whispered. She gave herself a shake, then straightened up and called, “Cody?”
Squirrelpaw watched the kittypet weave her way through the gathered cats. Her ribs were beginning to show through her flanks, but she hadn’t tried to insist that any warriors be spared from hunting patrols to take her home.
“I think Ferncloud should go back to the nursery,” Leafpaw meowed.
“It’s flooded with rain,” Cody told her. “I’ve put Birchkit in the warriors’ den beneath the overhang. I’ll take Ferncloud to join him.”
“Good idea,” Leafpaw mewed. “Do you still have the poppy seeds?”
Cody nodded. She looked at Ferncloud, who was distraught with grief. “Birchkit is hungry and crying for food,” she murmured. “But I think he can manage solid food if I chew it up first. Ferncloud isn’t going to be able to feed him herself for a while, poor thing.”
“Brambleclaw caught a squirrel. He could have that,” Squirrelpaw suggested.
“I’ll bring it to the den,” Ashfur offered.
Cody nudged Ferncloud with her nose, and with Leafpaw’s help they managed to lead her away from her dead k
it and back to the shelter of the warriors’ den.
“How did this happen?” Firestar demanded when they had gone.
“He was with me,” began Thornclaw, Shrewpaw’s mentor. His fur stood on end, and his eyes were huge with despair. “He was chasing a pheasant.”
“Why didn’t he see the Twoleg monster?”
“He was chasing a pheasant,” Thornclaw repeated. “It would have fed half the Clan. He forgot to be careful.”
“Didn’t you hear or smell the monster and warn him?” Firestar’s question was filled more with sorrow than accusation.
Thornclaw miserably shook his head. “With prey so scarce, the hunting is better if we split up. I wasn’t close enough to see what was going on.”
Firestar dipped his head, understanding.
“I’ll sit with him.” Whitepaw’s young voice sounded over the beating of the rain. Shrewpaw had been her denmate since kithood, and the sorrow of losing him glistened in her green eyes. “I don’t care if we’ve been driven out of our camp. We can still hold a vigil.”
“I’ll join you,” Thornclaw croaked. He leaned down and pressed his nose against Shrewpaw’s bloody flank.
The other cats began filing past to bid farewell to their young Clanmate. When it came to her turn, Squirrelpaw stooped low over Shrewpaw’s body, her heart aching. “You were an apprentice in ThunderClan, but you’ll be a warrior with StarClan,” she whispered.
She turned away and padded down the slope towards the shelter of the trees, her sadness feeling like part of the rain and tiredness that seemed to seep right through to her bones. She spotted Brambleclaw sitting beneath a larch tree, watching her.
“I can’t believe Shrewpaw is dead.” She sighed.
“I know,” Brambleclaw murmured, entwining his tail with hers.
Squirrelpaw leaned closer to him. “Ferncloud is heart-broken.”
“She will find comfort in having the rest of her Clan around her.” Brambleclaw sighed.
Squirrelpaw couldn’t help feeling that he was talking about more than Ferncloud’s grief.