by Erin Hunter
With a start, Cloudstar saw that even Redstar had joined the fight. He was nose to nose with Fernpelt, who had clawed a patch of fur from his flank as she swung from a branch into his hindquarters. Now she was on the ground, swiping at the dark ginger tom with alternate paws. Redstar looked down at her, then knocked her sideways with one mighty blow. Fernpelt spun away into the bracken and lay in an unmoving heap. Cloudstar was about to go to her when she scrambled up, shook herself, and raced back into the throng.
Cloudstar focused instead on an orange ThunderClan warrior named Amberclaw. The cat was looking the other way, so Cloudstar crouched down and steadied himself for a leap onto Amberclaw’s haunches. Just before he sprang, a voice from above called, “Watch out!”
In the next heartbeat, Mousefang hurled herself out of the tree and plummeted through the air. But the warning she had given to Cloudstar had been heard by Amberclaw too, and the ThunderClan warrior leaped sideways. Mousefang crashed into the earth with a sickening thud. She screeched in agony. Amberclaw’s eyes gleamed and he reared up on his hind legs, ready to claw her exposed belly. Cloudstar pushed down with his hind paws and sprang over Mousefang’s body, slamming into Amberclaw and shoving him backward. The ThunderClan cat writhed underneath him, and Cloudstar realized there was no way he was going to hold the warrior still. He rolled off before Amberclaw could sink his teeth into his neck.
At least it had given Mousefang a chance to crawl away, dragging her hind leg behind her. Cloudstar caught sight of her vanishing into the ferns, and he could tell from the angle of her paw that her leg was broken. He looked around at his warriors, their rage driven by fear and hunger, and he knew they were too weak and too thin to fight the sturdy, glossy-pelted ThunderClan cats. His Clanmates were making foolish mistakes out of desperation, and too often the ThunderClan warriors were simply waiting for their attackers to stumble over their own paws. The oak trees were still drenched in ThunderClan scent, even though their trunks and the fallen leaves were spattered with SkyClan blood. Cloudstar knew this was a battle he could not win. If he let his warriors fight any longer, there would be worse injuries than Mousefang’s broken leg.
Weary beyond measure, burning with pain from more than the scratches on his pelt, Cloudstar raised his head. “SkyClan, retreat!”
CHAPTER 9
“Clanmates, we lost.”
Cloudstar dragged his aching paws into the clearing. Every scratch on his pelt burned like fire, and his paws were numb from leaping onto the hard, dusty ground. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
Birdflight trotted up to him, her eyes dark with horror. “You…you lost? But you said we had to win this battle!”
“Yes, we had to. But we didn’t!” Cloudstar snapped. He saw Birdflight flinch, and he softened his tone. “I’m sorry. You’re right, we should have won. We need that piece of territory to feed us.”
Buzzardtail squeezed under the brambles, one eye closed and swollen, his pelt sticky with blood. “Go straight to Fawnstep,” Cloudstar ordered.
All around the clearing, queens and elders huddled around the returning warriors. They spoke so quietly, Cloudstar could hear a thrush warbling somewhere in the territory. Brave, foolish bird, he thought. If you stay here, you’ll be prey tomorrow. There were so few birds left, he wondered if he should send a warrior now to catch it. But every cat fit enough to hunt had fought in the battle, and all had come back with injuries, from ripped ears to Mousefang’s broken leg.
Cloudstar wondered if StarClan had watched their humiliating defeat. It certainly hadn’t felt as if any of SkyClan’s warrior ancestors were on their side.
“You need to get that cut on your flank seen to,” Birdflight told him.
“Not yet,” Cloudstar replied. “I must speak to the Clan first, tell them that we’re not giving up after one defeat.”
He clawed his way up to the branch in the gnarled thorn tree. The branch seemed higher than usual, and his hind leg exploded with pain when he tried to push himself up. Cloudstar hauled himself up with his front paws instead and balanced on the swaying twigs. Once he could stare into the trees from here and only guess where his territory ended. Now the half-built Twoleg nests loomed beyond the thin screen of branches, red and hard and threatening.
A cough below him brought his attention back to the cats below. The cats who had fought alongside him looked empty and battered beyond recovery; the only signs of hope were in the eyes of the cats who had stayed behind.
“Cats of SkyClan!” Cloudstar raised his voice, trying to sound like a leader his cats could have faith in to save their Clan. “The reason we lost today is that ThunderClan fought harder and better. They wanted victory more than us.”
There were a few looks of surprise from his exhausted warriors, but others nodded and twitched their tails as if they were feeling guilty for letting their Clanmates down. Something stabbed deep inside Cloudstar’s heart. He knew his warriors had given everything they could, but they were outnumbered, hungry, and exhausted from too many fruitless hunting patrols.
“I don’t blame any of you. All I ask is that you look at what you did today and see if you could have done any more. If the answer is yes, then there will be other battles, other chances to prove what it means to be a SkyClan warrior.”
The cats below stirred, lifting their heads as if already contemplating future clashes with their neighbors. Cloudstar winced at their defiance. I can’t bear the thought of making you fight again, yet we will have to. I’m so sorry.
He finished: “SkyClan will take back what is rightfully ours. We will seize that territory from those ThunderClan thieves!”
There were a few thin cheers. Cloudstar let out a sigh. His cats were so brave, so loyal. He could ask for no better warriors; but could they ask for a better leader? He jumped carefully down from the thorn tree and limped to Fawnstep’s den. He needed cobwebs and something to ease his bruises—but not poppy seed. He had to stay awake tonight and figure out a better way to attack ThunderClan, a different strategy that would give his warriors the best—perhaps the only—chance of winning.
“Cloudstar! Cloudstar, wake up!”
A wet muzzle was thrust into Cloudstar’s ear. Grunting, he swatted it aside and sat up. Through the branches of his den, he could see the sky turning milky with dawn, but it was dark enough that the stars still glittered overhead. Are you still watching, StarClan? Any words of wisdom now?
“Cloudstar, I have to talk to you!”
“What is it?” Cloudstar demanded, recognizing Fawnstep’s grassy scent. “Is Birdflight having her kits?” He jumped up, wide awake. “Is she all right? Do you need me to fetch herbs?”
“Sit down,” hissed Fawnstep, “or you’ll wake every cat in the Clan. Birdflight is fine. Her kits will be here in the next quarter moon, but not tonight. She’s sleeping peacefully in the nursery.” She shuffled farther into the den and sat down. Her pale brown fur was just visible against the leaves, and her eyes gleamed when she turned her head toward him.
“I’ve had a dream,” she began. Her voice was higher pitched than usual, and Cloudstar recognized another scent beneath the herb-dust clinging to her pelt: fear.
“I’m sure StarClan was showing me the future. Not far off—Birdflight was there with your kits, and they were still very small—”
“But strong?” Cloudstar interrupted. “There’s nothing wrong with them, is there?”
Fawnstep shook her head. “No, your kits looked…healthy.” She took a deep breath. “SkyClan was leaving the forest. We were at a Gathering, all of us. We…we had asked to stay, but the other Clans refused. We couldn’t stay here any longer.”
“What? That’s absurd!” Cloudstar lashed his tail. “It’s not up to the other Clans whether we stay here or not. This is our territory!”
Fawnstep gazed at him, and Cloudstar winced at the sorrow in her eyes. “You don’t understand,” she meowed gently. “There was no territory left. Not for us. The Twolegs had taken it all, and we had nowhere else to go.”
<
br /> Cloudstar stared at her in dismay. Was this really how it was going to end, with SkyClan hounded out of their home like a fox?
Fawnstep rested her tail on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Cloudstar. You should not have lost that battle. It is a defeat that we cannot survive.”
CHAPTER 10
A pale half moon cast a beam of light into the nursery. Birdflight opened her mouth to let out a thin wail. Cloudstar crouched over her.
“You’re doing really well,” he urged. “Just one more push, and our first kit will be here!”
Birdflight’s eyes rolled around to fix him with a furious glare. “Don’t make it sound so easy!” she hissed between clenched teeth. “You have no idea what this is like!”
“Ah, but it’s the same for all toms,” Fawnstep mewed. “Cloudstar’s doing the best he can. Focus on your breathing, Birdflight.”
Cloudstar grimaced as Birdflight sank her claws into his front leg. He reminded himself that it was nothing compared to the pain his mate was in. A spasm rippled along Birdflight’s belly and a tiny shape slithered onto the moss. Fawnstep leaned over and nipped the birth sac with her teeth. The little shape started wriggling, and Birdflight twisted around to lick its wet fur.
“A tom!” Fawnstep announced, nudging the kit closer to Birdflight’s belly. Cloudstar gazed down at his son in delight. His dark fur was spiked all over from Birdflight’s tongue, and his eyes were tightly shut, yet he still found his way to the source of the milk scent.
Birdflight stiffened. “There’s another one coming,” she gasped.
“Good!” Cloudstar meowed. “We want four, remember?”
Birdflight just glared at him. One more heave, and a second shape appeared, even smaller than the first. Fawnstep freed the kit’s muzzle from the birth sac and pushed it toward Birdflight’s head. The kit was much less wriggly than the first one.
“Is it all right?” Cloudstar asked.
Birdflight started licking the kit with vigorous strokes of her tongue. The kit lifted its head and let out a tiny wail.
“She’s fine,” Fawnstep purred. “A lovely little she-cat to join her brother.” The medicine cat ran her paw along Birdflight’s belly. “That’s all, I think. I’ll bring you some soaked moss, Birdflight. Try to get some sleep while they suckle.” Fawnstep slipped out of the nursery, and Cloudstar heard Hazelwing, who was waiting just outside, ask about the kits.
He bent down and rubbed his muzzle gently over Birdflight’s ears. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmured. “A son and a daughter!”
Birdflight looked up at him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you two more.”
“Don’t be mouse-brained. These two are perfect. They’ll keep us busy enough for the moons to come!” Cloudstar studied the tiny, squirming shapes beside Birdflight’s belly. “What should we call them?”
Birdflight raised her head to look at them. “The spiky-furred tom looks like a tuft of gorse! How about Gorsekit?”
“Perfect,” Cloudstar mewed. He ran his paw softly over the she-kit. “Look, her fur is turning dappled as it dries, like the sun shining through leaves. Spottedkit for this one?”
“Spottedkit and Gorsekit,” Birdflight murmured, settling back in her nest. “Our precious kits…” Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes.
Cloudstar padded out of the den and took a deep breath. This should have been the most joyful night of his life, but nothing could shift the heavy stone of sorrow that was lodged in his belly. He raised his head and looked at the silhouettes that loomed around the Clan. Where once they had been circled by trees, now yellow monsters surrounded them on all sides. The rest of the forest had gone, cut down and hauled away to make room for more rows of gray and blood-red stones. Only the densest part of the woods remained—the part where SkyClan had made their home.
Cloudstar pushed through the brambles and walked into the empty, churned-up space where the glade of birch trees had once stood. He stared up at the claw-pricks of silver light glimmering in the purple sky. Warriors of StarClan, do you see that I have new kits? Are you going to watch over them, or abandon them like you have abandoned the rest of us?
Suddenly a wave of tiredness swept over Cloudstar. He had spent all day hunting in the reeds by the river, the only place left where there was any hope of finding prey. Some of the warriors had even tried to hook fish out of the water like RiverClan cats, but had received only scraped claws and wet fur for their efforts. Every cat had started to loathe the taste of water vole, even Hazelwing’s kits, who complained loudest of being hungry.
Cloudstar closed his eyes and tucked his nose under his tail. He slipped into sleep, and found himself walking in StarClan, through the lofty, whispering trees where he had met his ancestors before. He looked around, sniffing the air, searching for those cats who had told him how strong and safe SkyClan was, how it would survive in the forest forever. But the forest was empty, with only the scent of leaves and tree bark on his tongue.
“Cowards!” Cloudstar yowled. “Where are you? Come and face me, and tell me now that SkyClan is safe!” He began to run through the trees, ferns whipping at his ears and snagging his tail. Had the whole of StarClan vanished into the night? Or were his ancestors watching him in secret, avoiding him because they had realized they were powerless to help?
Cloudstar halted in a clearing, his sides heaving. “Give me a sign that there is still some hope,” he begged. “Show me that you haven’t given up on us! You are all we have left!”
But there was nothing except the rustling of the leaves, which grew louder and louder until Cloudstar’s ear fur quivered. He put his paws over his ears, trying to block out the terrible noise, but it drew steadily nearer. With a gasp, he lifted his head and saw a yellow monster bearing down on him, huge and menacing against the milky dawn sky. With a shriek, Cloudstar raced back to the edge of the empty ground and watched as the monster rumbled past, growling.
“I doubt our ancestors even recognize their old home,” rasped a voice beside him.
Cloudstar turned, startled, to see Starlingfeather crouched in the dirt, his pelt ruffled and his eyes cloudy from age. “I have come here every day to watch the Twolegs destroy our territory,” the old cat went on. “Tail-length by tail-length, they have taken our trees, our prey, and our shelter. And worst of all, they have taken our hope.”
Cloudstar lashed his tail. “Don’t say that! We will fight on! We have to!”
Starlingfeather fixed his rheumy gaze on him. “Cloudstar, look at what lies around you. There can be nobility in admitting defeat and seeking another path. You have always led this Clan well, and that will not change, even though everything else might.”
“Our only hope lies in finding more territory,” Cloudstar meowed. He looked down at his paws, smeared with mud. “At the next Gathering, I shall ask the other Clans to help by giving us some of theirs, just as Duskstar did once.”
“And if they refuse?” Starlingfeather prompted.
Cloudstar stared bleakly at the old cat. “Then I don’t know what else I can do,” he confessed.
The full moon hung heavily in the cloudless sky, turning the forest to silver and the pelt of every cat to a pale, washed-out gray. Cloudstar slipped through the bushes at the top of the hollow and led his Clanmates down over the edge. The scents on the warm air told him that the other Clans had already arrived. Cats circled beneath the four great oak trees, and the leaders waited on the Great Rock. They were staring in astonishment at the SkyClan cats stumbling down the side of the hollow.
“Cloudstar!” Swiftstar called. “What kept you?”
Cloudstar didn’t answer at once. Instead, he pushed his way through the cats below the rock and scrambled up to join the other leaders. He looked down at the rest of his Clanmates emerging from the bushes that grew on the slopes of the hollow. The apprentices were bunched together, wide-eyed and nervous beneath the stares of the other cats. Next came Starlingfeather and Hawksnow, looking far too frail to be at a Gathering.
Cloudstar heard hisses of disapproval from elders belonging to the other Clans; they all expected to be left in peace once they reached such a great age.
There was a short gap, then Hazelwing and Birdflight appeared. Hazelwing carried Gorsekit, whose mouth gaped wide as he protested about being dragged through the thorns. Birdflight held Spottedkit, looking even tinier as she dangled from her mother’s jaws. Webkit, Hatchkit, Emberkit, and Mistlekit stumbled behind the queens, too tired from the trek along the river to be excited anymore about attending a Gathering. The warriors circled the queens and elders protectively, bushing up their tails and pressing close as if they wanted to save their Clanmates from the gasps of alarm around them.
“Great StarClan!” Swiftstar exclaimed. “Cloudstar, any cat would think you’d brought your whole Clan to the Gathering.”
Cloudstar forced himself to meet the WindClan leader’s gaze. “Yes,” he mewed, “that’s exactly what I’ve done.”
“Why in the name of StarClan have you done that?” Birchstar demanded.
Cloudstar took a deep breath. This is the moment I have to beg the other Clans for help. Oh StarClan, is this really what you wanted? “Because we can no longer live in our territory,” he announced. “Twolegs have destroyed it.”
“What?” Redstar stepped forward. “My patrols have reported more Twolegs in your territory, and noise from monsters, but they can’t possibly have destroyed it all.”
“They have.” Cloudstar stared through the dark trees, as if he might be able to see all the way to SkyClan’s ravaged home. “They came with huge monsters that pushed over our trees and churned up the earth. All our prey is dead or frightened off. The monsters are crouched around our camp now, waiting to pounce. SkyClan’s home has gone.” He turned back to the other leaders. “I have brought my Clan here to ask your help. You must give us some of your territories.”
Yowls of protest rose from the cats below the rock. Cloudstar’s heart ached as he saw his Clanmates stiffen, as if they were bracing themselves for an attack. We are only asking for help!