by Erin Hunter
“You want to go back to fighting among ourselves?” Tall Shadow asked. “Having another battle, maybe?”
“No, of course not—” Thunder began to protest.
“Then I think both messages are important. We just have to figure out what the second message means. Grow and spread . . .”
“I hope the spirits aren’t blaming me for leaving the hollow,” Wind Runner interrupted waspishly.
“Well, it can’t mean that we all have to live together,” Gray Wing meowed. “That never worked, right from the beginning.”
“Only because some cats argued about where to live,” Tall Shadow pointed out.
Clear Sky’s neck fur began to bristle. “Are you saying we have no right to make that decision?”
Thunder could see that the meeting was going to break down in squabbling if he didn’t do something. Bunching his muscles, he leaped up onto the top of the Great Rock.
“Stop!” he yowled. When silence fell, with all the others gazing up at him, he went on, “We mustn’t fight among ourselves. We need to work together to find the exact meaning of their most recent message.”
Murmurs of agreement came from the other cats, except for Clear Sky, who barely seemed to be listening. Instead he seemed to be carefully scanning the area.
Choosing new boundaries? Thunder wondered, feeling his belly tense at the thought of more confrontation with his father. I hope not. I’ve had enough of boundaries to last me a lifetime.
The other four leaders jumped up to join Thunder on top of the rock, and after a pause, much to Thunder’s relief, Clear Sky followed them.
By now the morning sun was rising high in the sky, casting its slanting rays between the branches of the oaks and burning off the last of the dawn mist. The creak and rustle of the trees was all around them. Thunder felt peace like dew soaking through his pelt, and as the others relaxed he realized that they felt it too.
Clear Sky’s gaze was fixed on the horizon. “We need to work together,” he murmured. “We can do that, even if we don’t live as one group.”
Even greater relief flooded through Thunder, and he drew closer to his father. “Of course we can,” he responded.
“I’m not sure that I can take direction from other cats on my own territory,” Wind Runner mewed stiffly. “But I’ll think about it.”
Gray Wing and Tall Shadow exchanged a glance. “I’ll do whatever the rest of you ask of me,” Gray Wing stated firmly.
“So will I,” Tall Shadow added.
River Ripple was the only cat who hadn’t spoken. As Thunder turned to the loner who had already helped them so much, the silver-furred tom dipped his head in answer to the unspoken question. “I’ll unite with you,” he meowed. “Haven’t you noticed? I’ve been doing that ever since the day you first arrived here from the mountains.”
“The only difference,” Thunder told him, “is that now our survival depends on your help.”
Every cat fell silent, as if they were thinking of the enormous commitment they had just made to one another. But Thunder couldn’t feel satisfied.
“But what about when they said we had to grow and spread like the Blazing Star?” Thunder asked. “What does that mean?”
For a moment the six cats exchanged baffled glances. Then Gray Wing mewed, “I think I understand.”
BONUS SCENE
CHAPTER ONE
Sun Shadow slipped out from beneath a scrubby bush rooted in the shallow soil between two boulders. As he halted to sniff the cold mountain air he saw that the sun was already going down, flooding the gray rock walls with scarlet light.
Maybe I should head home, he thought. The rest of the Tribe would already be gathering to share the day’s prey in the cave behind the waterfall. Sharp Hail will claw my fur off if I’m late!
Curiosity had led Sun Shadow’s paws farther down the mountain than he had ever ventured before. But he knew that his mother’s new mate, Sharp Hail, would never understand his urge to explore.
My real father wouldn’t be so strict, he told himself sadly as he hurried along a winding path between sharp, jutting stones. I wish I could have known him.
The path curved around a massive outcrop; following it, Sun Shadow found himself facing an almost sheer cliff. Squinting through the fading light of sunset, he spotted a narrow crevasse gaping open in the rock face ahead.
Instantly Sun Shadow forgot the need for haste. His ears twitched curiously and his pads itched with the compulsion to find out what lay beyond the dark gap. It felt like the crevasse was tugging at him.
It might lead into a cave, like the one where we live. And it won’t take long to check it out. . . .
Sun Shadow’s pelt prickled with excitement as he padded cautiously forward. Ever since he was a kit, he had loved to explore. He’d always yearned to know what lay beyond the mountain peaks that surrounded his home.
Not that I get much chance to find out, with Sharp Hail always looking over my shoulder. Sun Shadow’s mother’s new mate was always finding chores to keep Sun Shadow close to the cave. But all I want to do is get out and see the world, he thought resentfully.
Envy bit into him like thorns when he thought of how his real father, Moon Shadow, had left before Sun Shadow was even born to follow the Sun Trail and find a new home. Several cats had left with him, and without so many mouths to feed, the Tribe was doing better—or so Sun Shadow’s mother, Dewy Leaf, said. Hunting had improved, and no cat was in danger of starving anymore.
So why is Sharp Hail so obsessed with keeping every cat safe? Sun Shadow asked himself. If I’d been born when my father left, I’d have gone with him.
Reaching the rock face, Sun Shadow stretched one paw out into the cleft and tentatively patted the ground. It felt solid, though when he tried to peer down the narrow passage he could see nothing beyond the first tail-length. When he tasted the air he picked up a strange scent, musty like earth, but it seemed a long way away.
Sun Shadow stepped into the opening, feeling his pelt brush against the walls on either side, and glanced over his shoulder at the dimming sunlight.
Just a quick look . . . It won’t hurt any cat.
As he slowly padded forward, Sun Shadow’s own body blocked out the last of the light, leaving him with only his whiskers and his sense of smell to guide him. He sensed that he was heading along a tall, narrow tunnel that sloped gently downward. From somewhere farther ahead he could hear the sound of dripping water, each drop waking a flurry of sharp echoes.
Maybe the tunnel opens into a larger cave, Sun Shadow thought. His heart thudded with excitement; he couldn’t wait to find out what lay ahead of him.
Then a sound from farther down the tunnel brought Sun Shadow to an abrupt halt. What is that? he wondered. He had never heard the high-pitched chittering before, or the oddly loud flapping, like many wings rustling together. It sounded like it was moving. . . .
Panic froze Sun Shadow, fixing his paws to the ground. It’s coming right toward me! he thought. Could it be an eagle?
The sounds grew louder. Whatever was making them was just a short distance away now. Sun Shadow crouched low, his shoulder fur bristling in terror, and let out a yowl as a whole flock of hideous creatures swept over his head, screeching and beating their wings. He choked as a musty smell filled the air.
In the darkness Sun Shadow couldn’t tell what the creatures were, and he didn’t care; he only knew he had to get away from them. Terrified, he tried to run back the way he’d come, only to crash face-first into a craggy rock wall.
“Ow!” Sun Shadow staggered back, letting out a yowl of pain. The scent and harsh taste of blood flowed over him.
The horrible creatures were still passing above his head. Sun Shadow stumbled forward, desperate to get out of the tunnel. He panted hard with relief as he burst into the open and saw twilight glimmering in the sky.
Sun Shadow’s whole face ached, and when he raised a paw, hesitantly touching his nose, it came back covered in blood. Oh, haredung . . .
that hurts!
Looking up, he saw a blur of brown, mouselike creatures disappearing into the sky, darting here and there on tough, featherless wings. Bats! Sun Shadow had seen a dead bat before, but never a whole group of them in flight.
And I don’t care if I never see them again.
Sun Shadow stood watching the ugly creatures for a few moments more, until his racing heart gradually slowed and his shoulder fur lay flat again. I’m glad no other cat saw me, he thought, beginning to feel stupid. Those things are disgusting, but they couldn’t hurt me.
“Sun Shadow! Sun Shadow!”
The young cat’s heart lurched again as he recognized the distant voice calling his name. “Sharp Hail!” he muttered. “Now I’ll have to put up with one of his lectures.” His head and tail drooped as he set off toward the cave. “But what choice do I have?”
Sun Shadow’s paws tingled with apprehension as he followed Sharp Hail back into the cave. By now darkness had fallen and moonlight glimmered on the waterfall, sending silver light dancing around the cavern walls.
Once inside, Sharp Hail swung around and thrust out his muzzle toward Sun Shadow. “Why did I have to go looking for you among the rocks again?” he demanded, narrowing his ice-blue eyes. “When will you learn to come back to the cave by sunset? And what in the world has happened to your face?”
Sun Shadow extended his tongue and licked toward his nose, tasting blood again. His pelt grew hot with embarrassment at the thought of confessing how he had fled from the bats. “I . . . uh . . . I ran into a hawk,” he mumbled.
Sharp Hail lashed his tail in frustration. “You expect me to believe that?” he snarled. “A scrawny thing like you would never stand a chance against a hawk. Besides, that injury is a bump, not a scratch—like you crashed into something.”
He waited, flexing his claws impatiently, but Sun Shadow had nothing more to say. He blinked miserably as he stared at the cave floor.
“We just want you to be safe.” Dewy Leaf spoke gently behind him. “Don’t you understand? After all that’s happened to us, here in the mountains . . .”
“Nothing has happened to us!” Sun Shadow blurted out, whipping around to face Dewy Leaf. “Not in my lifetime. I wish something would happen! Then living here might not be so boring.”
A look of horror flashed into Dewy Leaf’s eyes. At the same moment, Sun Shadow felt a stinging blow across his ears, and turned to see Sharp Hail glaring at him with one paw raised.
“That’s enough!” Sharp Hail yowled. “I’ve had it up to here with you whining about being safe and having enough to eat. You’re just like your father! Moon Shadow was always too restless to appreciate what he had.”
Sun Shadow had heard that accusation before, if not exactly in those words, and the truth of it stabbed him like a thorn in his pad. I am restless! And if I were with my father, at least I’d be around someone who understands me!
He had been too young to remember how his sister, Crow Muzzle, had died during her birth, and he had only a vague memory of his brother, Dancing Leaf, falling sick and dying a moon later. He had grown up alone. There had never been any cat who would listen to his dreams of life beyond the mountain.
“You need to be taught a lesson,” Sharp Hail went on, his voice cold. “To make up for worrying your mother tonight, you’ll spend the next half moon caring for Stoneteller.”
Sun Shadow nodded, feeling slightly bewildered. He liked Stoneteller, and admired how her wisdom guided the Tribe and how she cared for each of them as if they were her own kits. Ordinarily caring for her would have been an honor, not a punishment. But in the last few days Stoneteller had fallen ill with some kind of vomiting sickness. Sun Shadow had overheard the older cats reassuring one another that she would get better soon. They all believed she had many more seasons in her, and couldn’t imagine life without her.
I hope they’re right, Sun Shadow thought. But meanwhile, cleaning up after her will be pretty yucky.
“Well?” Sharp Hail’s voice broke into Sun Shadow’s thoughts. “Are you going to stand there all night? Get on with it!”
His belly still churning with resentment, Sun Shadow padded toward the back of the cave and the tunnel that led to Stoneteller’s den. He had never been allowed there before, and at the end of the passage he halted, his eyes wide with wonder.
The tunnel opened into a smaller cave, lit by starlight from a jagged hole in the roof. Reflections glinted from pools on the cave floor. Most astonishing of all, stone pinnacles rose from the cave floor, rising to meet spikes of stone that hung from the roof. Some of them were joined in the middle, so that Sun Shadow felt that he was gazing into a forest made of stone.
Hardly daring to breathe, Sun Shadow padded forward. “Stoneteller?” he called softly.
There was no reply. But a moment later Sun Shadow spotted the old white she-cat curled up beside one of the pools, her tail wrapped over her nose. Her body rose and fell gently with the rhythm of her breathing. She looked perfectly fine; there was no scent of vomit around her.
Sun Shadow retreated quietly and returned to the main cave. He crouched at the end of Stoneteller’s tunnel, trying to ignore the rumbling of his belly.
All the prey had been shared by the time I got back. And I’m not going to ask Sharp Hail if there’s any left!
A few tail-lengths away, Sun Shadow spotted Quiet Rain sitting beside her sleeping hollow and nibbling daintily on a mouse. As he watched her, his jaws watering, Quiet Rain glanced his way, then picked up her prey and padded over to him.
“You look like you could use some kindness,” she murmured, blinking sympathetically at his injured face. “Here.” She tore the mouse in two and pushed half of it toward him.
“Thank you!” Sun Shadow meowed, tearing hungrily into the prey.
“You look so much like your father,” Quiet Rain went on. “The same slender build and black pelt. It’s a pity he never saw you.”
Sun Shadow looked up, gulping down the last mouthful. “My father is a hero,” he declared. “He left the mountains and risked the dangerous journey down the Sun Trail to find new hunting grounds and save all the cats who stayed in the mountains.”
To his surprise, Quiet Rain seemed not to share his admiration. “That’s true, but to do that, he left your mother on her own, even though she was expecting kits,” she pointed out.
A pulse of anger shot through Sun Shadow. “It was a sacrifice he had to make!” But his anger died as he met Quiet Rain’s steady gaze, and he remembered that she too had been left behind. “Your kits—Clear Sky, Gray Wing, and Jagged Peak—were heroes too,” he went on. “Do you ever wonder about them?”
Quiet Rain did not reply, though her eyes misted over, as if she was gazing into the far distance. Sun Shadow found himself questioning whether the she-cat was lonely. She never took another mate, or had another litter. All her kits are gone.
“Do you ever think about what life is like at the end of the Sun Trail?” Sun Shadow asked her. “Beyond this mountain?”
Quiet Rain remained silent for a few heartbeats, and Sun Shadow hoped he hadn’t upset her. But when she met his gaze again, her expression was resolute.
“I often wonder how my kits are faring,” she replied. “I would like to see them once more before I die. But my place is here, on this mountain, with these cats.” She paused, running the tip of her tail along Sun Shadow’s back. “Perhaps every cat wonders about life beyond the mountain,” she mewed. “But you must find your place in the group here, where you belong.”
Without waiting for a reply, she padded back to her sleeping hollow and curled up inside it.
Sun Shadow watched her, impressed by her wisdom. But before he could think more about what she had said, he heard the sound of Stoneteller’s voice coming from her den at the end of the tunnel. It was too far away for him to make out the words, but there was an urgency in her tone that made him spring to his paws and race down the tunnel toward her.
Maybe she’s ill! I have
to help her!
But when Sun Shadow erupted into Stoneteller’s cave, he saw her standing erect on her paws, her head raised and her gaze fixed on the jagged gap in the roof. Her green eyes shone brilliantly, as if what she saw there filled her with mingled joy and sorrow. Sun Shadow didn’t dare speak; he could only watch and listen in wonder.
“Fluttering Bird . . . Shaded Moss . . . Bright Stream . . . Turtle Tail . . .” She breathed out. “Oh, my dear friends! I thought I would never see you again. How is it that you’re here now, with me?”
Stoneteller paused, as if she was listening to an answer, though Sun Shadow couldn’t hear or see anything.
Then Stoneteller bowed her head. “Now I understand,” she murmured. “I am not ready yet, but if that is what you wish . . .”
Fear gripped Sun Shadow, piercing his body like claws of ice as he realized what the old she-cat meant. Fluttering Bird was Quiet Rain’s kit who died of hunger. If Stoneteller’s talking about joining her, she must be talking about dying. . . . But she can’t! His heart thumped and his chest felt tight with panic. What will we do without our leader?
CHAPTER TWO
Stoneteller’s vision seemed to fade, and at last she turned with slow paw steps toward her nest at the far end of the cave. Sun Shadow followed her, ready to offer help if she seemed to need it, but she curled up among the moss and fell asleep almost at once.
Sun Shadow crouched in the shelter of one of the stone trees, reluctant to leave his leader yet knowing there was nothing he could do for her. Though his body ached with exhaustion, his horror at what he had overheard kept him awake.
We need Stoneteller! Every cat said she had many seasons left. What are we going to do when she’s gone?
Eventually Sun Shadow rose to his paws, stretched cramped limbs, and slipped back through the tunnel into the main cave. The sky beyond the screen of falling water at the entrance was dim gray, telling Sun Shadow that a new day was dawning.