SkyClan's Destiny

by Erin Hunter

  Frecklepaw, who held the other feather, had slid downward as she tried to avoid Petalnose. Ebonyclaw and Waspwhisker were too far away to take the feather from her, and began clambering through the branches to reach her.

  Tinycloud and Sparrowpelt were helping Petalnose to her paws. With a swift glance to make sure that the she-cat wasn’t hurt, Leafstar snatched up the feather and leaped into the tree. Thrusting herself up from branch to branch, she suddenly realized that Sharpclaw was crouched above her, his muscles tensed to fight once she came within reach.

  I’ve got to get past him. If we start tussling up here, we’ll both fall out of the tree.

  She feinted to one side; Sharpclaw moved to intercept her, and his paws slipped on the branch. With a hiss of annoyance he struggled to keep his balance, and Leafstar slid past him on the other side. Digging her claws into the topmost branch, she waved her tail and let out a triumphant yowl, managing not to let go of the feather. Down below, she could see her Clanmates circling at the foot of the tree with a mix of frustration and excitement in their eyes.

  Sparrowpelt’s triumphant shout drifted up to her. “She did it! Leafstar won!”

  CHAPTER 7

  “We won!” Sparrowpelt waved his tail as the cats poured back down the gorge toward the camp. “Snookpaw, you crept up to the tree like a shadow!”

  The apprentice blinked in embarrassment and let out a pleased purr.

  “We’ll go hunting tomorrow,” Billystorm promised him. “And you can try out that crouch on real prey.”

  “It was just bad luck that we lost,” Waspwhisker meowed; Leafstar was relieved to see that none of his teammates was looking angry that Sparrowpelt’s group had beaten them in both exercises.

  “Yes, you just wait till next time,” Mintpaw murmured, her eyes gleaming.

  “Did you see me trip up Tinycloud?” Bouncefire boasted. “She never saw me coming!”

  “I got in some good blows over your ears, though,” his sister retorted, giving him a flick on the shoulder with her tail. “You’re lucky my claws were sheathed!”

  “Frecklepaw, you did well, too.” Ebonyclaw brushed her tail against her apprentice’s shoulder. “You were a strong part of our group.”

  “It was fun,” Frecklepaw replied, her eyes shining. “Can we do it again some time?” she asked Sharpclaw shyly.

  The deputy nodded. “Of course. It’s the best way of keeping our skills sharp.”

  To Leafstar’s surprise, Sharpclaw sounded quite friendly as he spoke to the apprentice, as if he’d forgotten for now that she was a daylight-warrior. Training like this brings us closer together.

  Even the visiting cats seemed more at ease among the warriors now. “You could try racing up the cliff,” Stick suggested, pausing to scan the rock face stretching above him. “We could give you some tips there; we’re used to climbing walls in our Twolegplace.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Leafstar promised, though privately she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. The memory of Sagepaw’s fall was too vivid in her mind.

  Or does that mean we ought to do more climbing practice? she wondered. I’ll have to discuss it with Sharpclaw.

  “Or we could show you different ways of dealing with dogs.” Shorty scraped the ground with his front claws. “You must see plenty of them, with a Twolegplace so near.”

  Sharpclaw gave him a long look. “Thanks. That could be very useful.”

  “And what to do about monsters,” Cora put in. “Or young Twolegs.” She sighed. “Sometimes I think we spend our whole lives dodging something.”

  “You wouldn’t have to if you were in a Clan,” Tinycloud meowed, her tail proudly raised. “Clan cats look out for one another.”

  “There’s one thing that puzzles me,” Stick went on, as if Tinycloud hadn’t spoken. “In our Twolegplace, we hunt at night, and sleep in the day.”

  “But you’re awake all day,” Shorty mewed. “Somehow it doesn’t seem right for cats.”

  “Firestar said this is how the other Clans live,” Leafstar answered. “It’s easier to hunt and patrol our borders in daylight.”

  “And fight, if we have to,” Sharpclaw added; there was the hint of a challenge in his voice. “We could hunt by night if we wanted to, but we prefer it this way.”

  Leafstar spotted Shorty rolling his eyes at Cora, and heard him mutter, “Weird, or what?”

  She didn’t bother to argue with them. SkyClan hunted by day and slept by night because that was the way Firestar and Sandstorm had taught them. She couldn’t see that it mattered. As Sharpclaw had said, there was no reason why they couldn’t hunt at night, and sometimes two or three warriors would go out on patrol after dark, especially if the night was fine and the moon shone brightly.

  Rounding the last spur of rock, Leafstar saw the Rockpile and the camp ahead of her. Patchfoot and his hunting patrol were padding along the stream, their jaws laden with prey. Tangle and Lichenfur were already crouching beside the fresh-kill pile, sharing a plump pigeon, while Clovertail and Fallowfern lay stretched out at the water’s edge with Fallowfern’s kits scrambling all over them.

  As the other cats gathered around the fresh-kill pile, choosing pieces of prey for themselves, Coal emerged from Echosong’s den and bounded up to join them.

  “Stick, you have to go and meet Echosong!” he announced. “She’s amazing! She has herbs to cure every illness you can think of, cobwebs to stop bleeding, ointment for cracked pads.…”

  “Echosong is great!” Bouncefire chimed in. “She looks after every cat in the Clan.”

  “Are you going to set up your own Clan?” Tinycloud asked Stick, tipping her head to one side. “Is that why you’ve come here?”

  All four visiting cats looked shocked, their eyes wide and their fur beginning to bristle.

  “Never!” Stick exclaimed.

  “You should,” Tinycloud insisted. “In a Clan you’ve always got other cats to watch your back.”

  “We share prey,” Rockshade added. “No cat goes hungry.”

  “And we learn how to look after ourselves and our Clanmates.” Mintpaw stretched out her front paws and unsheathed her tiny claws. “Dogs and foxes had better watch out!”

  “We help one another,” Ebonyclaw mewed softly, while her apprentice Frecklepaw nodded. “We’re friends.”

  Leafstar’s chest swelled with pride as she heard how confident her Clanmates sounded. SkyClan is strong!

  Stick shook his head. “We have our own way of life.”

  “That’s right.” Leafstar thought that Cora sounded regretful, but there was no hesitation as she backed up the scrawny brown tom. “We can learn from one another, but we don’t want to decide that one way of life is better than all the others.”

  “Just what are they doing here, then?”

  The muttered words came from behind Leafstar; she looked over her shoulder to see Lichenfur glaring at the visitors from narrowed amber eyes. Leafstar glanced back at the visitors, but none of them seemed to have heard; Sharpclaw invited them to take prey from the fresh-kill pile and they settled down to eat.

  “It’s no surprise that other cats want to learn from us,” Rockshade pointed out to the mottled gray elder. “We’re so strong and fierce!”

  “And skilled!” Bouncefire put in.

  Lichenfur batted crossly at a pigeon feather that had got stuck to her nose. “And how did they hear about us, hmm? Squirrels passing whispers through the trees?”

  “They said that Firestar and Sandstorm told them,” Rockshade flashed back at her.

  The gray she-cat grunted. “Maybe.”

  A light touch on her shoulder distracted Leafstar; she turned to see Tinycloud standing beside her, the tip of her tail still resting on Leafstar’s pelt. “Leafstar, may I have a word with you, please?”

  “Of course.” Tipping her head to show Tinycloud she should follow, Leafstar picked her way among the feeding cats to a quiet spot near the cliff face. “What is it?”

  “I know how impor
tant the medicine cat is to a Clan,” Tinycloud began, “and I like helping Echosong. I’ve learned a lot from her, but I really, really want to be a warrior, and I feel that I’m missing out on training.” She dug her claws into the ground. “Please can I go back to ordinary warrior duties now?”

  The small white cat was so earnest and solemn that Leafstar had to bite back a purr of amusement. “Of course,” she meowed. “Just as long as you remember that if Echosong needs help, it’s the duty of every warrior to respond, for the sake of the Clan.”

  Tinycloud nodded seriously, then scampered off, skidding to a halt beside her littermates. “Watch out!” Her voice was an excited squeak. “I’m back in training!”

  Gazing after her, a sudden pang of concern banished Leafstar’s amusement. Echosong needs to start training an apprentice. She wasn’t exactly sure when a medicine cat usually started to train an apprentice, but it made sense to start sooner rather than later. We depend so much on Echosong. What would we do if we lost her?

  Tinycloud obviously didn’t have the passion she would need to live the life of a medicine cat. It’s going to be hard to find an apprentice, Leafstar thought. A medicine cat gives up so much for her Clan.

  Mintpaw and Sagepaw were desperate to be warriors like their dead father, Rainfur, and Leafstar knew that Clovertail would have the same ambition for the kits she was carrying now. Maybe one of Fallowfern’s kits will show a skill for healing. Leafstar swallowed a hiss of frustration. Echosong was young and healthy; worrying about her replacement seemed like one worry too far right now.

  The sun was sinking down below the top of the cliffs, and shadows began to creep across the gorge. As the cats finished eating, Sharpclaw began to sort out the evening patrols.

  Billystorm padded across to Leafstar, with Ebonyclaw, Snookpaw, and Frecklepaw just behind him. “Is everything all right?” he asked, concern in his green eyes.

  Leafstar took a breath, ready to tell the ginger-and-white tom what was on her mind, then stopped herself. I’m the Clan leader; it’s my job to sort out these problems on my own.

  “Yes, everything’s fine,” she replied.

  Billystorm looked as if he didn’t quite believe her, but all he said was “We’ll be off now, unless there’s anything else you want us to do.”

  “No, we’re all set for tonight. We’ll see you again in the morning.”

  Billystorm dipped his head and turned to go, then checked and looked back at his Clan leader. “I think you did the right thing about Harveymoon and Macgyver,” he meowed. “Being part of SkyClan means that they have to respect the warrior code—and you—above anything else.” He hesitated, then added, “If they don’t show respect, then they don’t deserve to be here.”

  Gratitude for the tom’s support warmed Leafstar from ears to tail-tip. It meant a lot to her, especially coming from another daylight-warrior. Billystorm knows it’s a real privilege to be part of SkyClan.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “Good night, and may StarClan light your path.”

  “Good night,” Billystorm responded, and padded away to the bottom of the nearest trail, waving his tail to beckon Ebonyclaw and the two apprentices.

  Leafstar rose and arched her back in a long stretch. The evening patrols had left, and the huddle around the fresh-kill pile was thinning out. Padding over to join the cats who remained, Leafstar saw that the four visitors were looking around curiously.

  “Why are those cats leaving?” Shorty asked, pointing the stump of his tail at Billystorm and the other daylight-warriors, who had climbed halfway up the trail. “Are they part of a patrol?”

  “They’re kitty-warriors,” Tinycloud meowed, adding hastily as she caught Leafstar’s eye, “I mean, daylight-warriors. But they do all the same things as real warriors.”

  The visitors looked confused and Cherrytail explained, “Billystorm and the others still have housefolk, and spend part of their time in Twolegplace, living as kittypets.” Her whiskers twitched in faint contempt. “Sometimes they come out at night, sometimes in the day.”

  “And you still let them join in with everything?” Stick asked, his surprise evident in his voice.

  Leafstar felt her pelt beginning to rise defensively, and choked the feelings down. “SkyClan is young,” she meowed. “We need all the help we can get to keep the fresh-kill pile stocked and the borders strong.”

  “But your borders won’t be strong if half your warriors are eating kittypet slop in a Twoleg nest,” Cora pointed out. Leafstar wondered how much her air of innocent inquiry was genuine. If the visitors wanted to cause an argument, they were going about it in exactly the right way.

  “SkyClan would have no trouble defending itself without the extra Clan members,” Sharpclaw meowed. There was a hint of warning in his voice.

  Narrowing her eyes, Leafstar watched the four visitors, but there was no sign of hostility from any of them. Stick merely nodded and murmured, “Interesting.”

  There’s something they aren’t telling us, Leafstar thought. They haven’t come here just to ask questions about Clan life. She exchanged a glance with Sharpclaw, and saw her suspicions reflected in her deputy’s green eyes. So I’m not imagining this! Sharpclaw thinks there’s something odd about these strangers, too.

  Leafstar felt as if her paws were slipping on the frozen surface of a river, with nothing to cling on to. She couldn’t find any fault with the visitors so far—they had been polite, interested, and willing to join in the battle training—but she felt unsettled and vulnerable with their presence in the camp. Had it been a mistake to let them take part in the training session? Had they learned anything they could use against SkyClan?

  I wish they hadn’t come.

  The last of the sunlight had gone, and the first warriors of StarClan were appearing in the sky. A chill night breeze whispered along the gorge and ruffled Leafstar’s fur.

  Sparrowpelt parted his jaws in a huge yawn. “I’m off to my nest,” he announced, rising to his paws.

  “Yes, it’s time,” Fallowfern agreed, sweeping her tail around to draw her kits close to her. “Come on, back to the nursery!”

  Petalnose padded up to Leafstar and murmured in her ear, “Where are the visitors going to sleep?”

  “There’s not enough room for all of them in the warriors’ den,” Sparrowpelt pointed out. “We’d be sleeping on top of one another!”

  “Maybe one of the new caves?” Petalnose suggested.

  Leafstar thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, but I don’t want them in there on their own. Some of our warriors should go with them.”

  Though she had spoken softly, Patchfoot overheard her and shot her a keen glance. “Why, don’t you trust them?”

  Not as far as I could throw the Rockpile, Leafstar thought, but she wasn’t going to admit it, even to her own warriors. “No, I just want them to feel that SkyClan welcomes them,” she replied.

  “I don’t mind sleeping in one of the new dens,” Patchfoot meowed.

  “Neither do I.” Bouncefire sprang to his paws. “We’ll get to try them first!”

  “I’ll go, too,” Sparrowpelt offered, with another huge yawn. “But let’s do it now, okay?”

  “Thank you.” Leafstar dipped her head. “It’ll be a good opportunity to see if the new dens will work for us.”

  “I want to sleep there, too!” Nettlekit announced, his tiny paws kneading the ground.

  “So do I!” Plumkit pattered up to Leafstar. “We’ll all go!”

  “No, you won’t.” Fallowfern stretched out her tail and drew her little daughter back. “You can’t leave the nursery yet.”

  Nettlekit leaned over to whisper into his sister’s ear. “We’ll sneak out when she’s is asleep.”

  Fallowfern’s ears twitched. “Don’t even try,” she mewed without looking around. “I hear everything, even when I’m asleep.”

  Gathering her kits together, she led them off to the nursery, with Clovertail plodding behind, her belly heavy with her unb
orn kits. “But I’m not tired!” Nettlekit wailed, stumbling over his paws as he headed for his nest.

  “It’s too late to start gathering fresh moss,” Patchfoot pointed out. “Let’s move some over from the warriors’ den; we can collect more in the morning.”

  “Good idea,” Sparrowpelt agreed. “Come on,” he added to the visitors. “We’ll show you what to do.”

  Stick, Shorty, and Coal followed the SkyClan warriors up the trail to the main den, but Cora lingered behind with Leafstar. For a while the two she-cats sat close together, watching the warriors as they carried balls of moss out of their den, showing the visitors how to carry it across the cliff face toward the biggest of the new dens. In the twilight their pelts smudged together, so that it was hard for Leafstar to distinguish her own cats from the visitors.

  She jumped when Cora spoke.

  “We haven’t come to cause you harm,” the black she-cat murmured. Her voice was distant, as if there was more that she did not say.

  Leafstar dipped her head, watching the cats as they eddied between the dens. “I hope not,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER 8

  A paw prodding him in the side woke Stick. “Wha…? Get off!” he growled.

  He had spent the night hunting and prowling the streets of Twolegplace; it felt as though he had only just closed his eyes. His muscles still ached with tiredness.

  The paw prodded Stick again, harder this time. Opening his eyes a crack, he saw Cora curled up close to him, and Snowy’s white tail poking out from behind a nearby garbage can.

  Shorty was standing over him, his amber eyes worried. “It’s happening again,” he meowed.

  Stick scrambled out of his shallow nest among the tree roots and shook scraps of dead leaf from his pelt. “Where?”

  Shorty angled his ears toward the far side of the patch of rough ground behind the Twoleg nests. “Follow me.” He led the way to the far corner near a gate in the Twoleg fence. “It’s Dodge, Skipper, and Misha,” he added, glancing over his shoulder at Stick.