by Erin Hunter
“It might.”
Firestar straightened up, suddenly looking very young. “Then it’s even more important to get them back!” he burst out. “I’ll lead a patrol myself.”
“I’ll come with you,” mewed Sandstorm. Raising her voice, she added, “Leafpaw, you’ve had time to sniff every piece of fresh-kill on that pile. Cinderpelt will be waiting—and remember that you’ve promised not to say anything to any cat about this message from StarClan.”
“Yes, Sandstorm.” Leafpaw grabbed a vole and headed back to the medicine cat’s den. She wondered if she ought to confess what her sister had told her about the journey—but she had promised Squirrelpaw to keep silent, too. The weight of the two secret prophecies weighed on her fur like raindrops. She did not know how she would manage to keep both her promises, and stay faithful to her vows as a medicine cat to act only for the good of the Clan, all at the same time.
For the rest of that day, Cinderpelt kept Leafpaw busy going over their stocks of herbs, sorting out what needed to be replenished before leaf-fall set in for good. The sun was going down and the air growing cold with the scent of damp leaves when they heard the noise of a cat brushing through the fern tunnel.
“It’s Firestar,” Cinderpelt meowed, glancing out of the mouth of the den. “You carry on with that, and I’ll see what he wants.”
Leafpaw was thankful to stay hidden in the hollow rock and count juniper berries. She caught a glimpse of her father in the clearing outside, the sun turning his pelt to brilliant flame, and shrank further back so that he would not see her.
“There’s no sign of them anywhere.” Firestar sounded weary. “I tried to follow their scent, but the rain last night must have washed it away. They could be anywhere. Cinderpelt, what do you think I should do?”
“I don’t see what else you can do, except stop worrying.” Cinderpelt’s voice was brisk but sympathetic. “I remember a couple of apprentices who were always sneaking off for one reason or another. No harm ever came to them.”
“Me and Greystripe? That was different. Squirrelpaw—”
“Squirrelpaw has a strong young warrior with her. Brambleclaw will look after her.”
There was a short silence. Leafpaw risked another glance out of the opening in the rock to see her father sitting with his head bowed. He looked utterly defeated, and Leafpaw’s heart twisted in pity. She wanted to go and comfort him, but there was no comfort she could give without breaking her word.
“It’s my fault,” Firestar went on in a low, shaken voice. “I should never have said what I did. If they don’t come back, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Of course they’ll come back. The forest is safe at the moment. Wherever they are, they will be well fed and sheltered.”
“Maybe.” Firestar didn’t sound convinced. Without saying any more, he got up and disappeared into the fern tunnel.
When he had gone, Cinderpelt came back into the cave. “Leafpaw,” she meowed, “do you know where your sister is now?”
Leafpaw chased with her paw after a juniper berry that had rolled across the floor, not wanting to meet her mentor’s gaze. When she thought about Squirrelpaw, she had a sensation of warmth and safety, and the presence of other cats. She guessed they were at Ravenpaw’s barn, but she couldn’t be sure. She answered truthfully, “No, Cinderpelt, I don’t know where she is.”
“Hmm . . .” Leafpaw was aware of Cinderpelt’s gaze, and she looked up into her mentor’s blue eyes to see no anger there, only deep pools of wisdom and understanding. “If you did know, you would tell me, wouldn’t you? A medicine cat’s loyalties are not the same as other cats’, but in the end we are all loyal to StarClan and the four Clans in the forest.”
Leafpaw nodded, and to her relief her mentor turned away and started to examine their stocks of marigold leaves.
I didn’t lie to her, Leafpaw told herself miserably. But it didn’t help. StarClan prophecy or not, she knew the warrior code as well as any Clan cat. One of the worst things an apprentice could do was lie to her mentor, and even though the words she had spoken had been the exact truth, Leafpaw felt desperately guilty.
Oh, Squirrelpaw, she protested. Why did you have to go?
CHAPTER 13
“This isn’t the quickest way to Fourtrees,” Squirrelpaw protested when Brambleclaw paused on the edge of a bramble thicket. She flicked her tail. “We should be going that way.”
“Fine.” Brambleclaw sighed. Squirrelpaw had been unusually quiet after saying goodbye to her sister, but unfortunately the silence hadn’t lasted. “Go that way, if you feel like a swim. This way the stream is narrower, and there’s a rock we can use to jump across.”
“Oh—OK.” Squirrelpaw seemed disconcerted for a moment, but then she shrugged and raced through the trees at Brambleclaw’s side; they crossed the stream in a couple of bounds and headed up the last slope that led to Fourtrees. Brambleclaw realised that the whole disk of the sun had risen above the horizon by the time they reached the edge of the hollow.
He paused, sweeping his tail to hold back Squirrelpaw so that she wouldn’t go dashing into the clearing before they knew what they would find there. Drinking in the air, he could taste the mingled scents of the three other Clans, and when he looked down the slope he saw Tawnypelt, Feathertail, and Stormfur sitting at the base of the Great Rock, while Crowpaw paced restlessly up and down in front of them.
“At last!” Tawnypelt sprang to her paws as Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw burst out of the bushes at the foot of the slope. “We thought you weren’t coming.”
“What’s she doing here?” Crowpaw demanded, glaring at Squirrelpaw.
Squirrelpaw returned the glare, her neck fur bristling angrily. “I can speak for myself, thanks. I’m coming with you.”
“What?” Tawnypelt padded up to her brother’s side. “Brambleclaw, have you lost your mind? You can’t bring an apprentice. This is going to be dangerous.”
Before Brambleclaw could reply, Squirrelpaw hissed, “He’s an apprentice!” and flicked her tail at Crowpaw.
“I was chosen by StarClan,” Crowpaw pointed out immediately. “You weren’t.” Seeming to think that settled it, he sat down and started to wash his ears.
“He’s not chosen either,” Squirrelpaw protested, transferring the glare to Stormfur. “Don’t tell me he’s here just to say goodbye to his sister!”
The two RiverClan cats said nothing, just exchanged a worried glance.
“She’s coming, and that’s that.” Brambleclaw’s patience was rapidly running out. At this rate the mission would fall apart in bickering and bad temper before it had even started. “Now let’s get going.”
“Don’t order me around!” Crowpaw snapped.
“No, he’s right,” Tawnypelt sighed. “If we can’t stop Squirrelpaw coming—”
“You can’t,” Squirrelpaw put in.
“—then we might as well get moving and make the best of it.”
To Brambleclaw’s relief, even Crowpaw seemed to see the sense in that. He got to his paws, turning his back on Squirrelpaw as if she didn’t exist. “Pity you can’t leave your Clan without dragging along a burr in your pelt,” he jeered at Brambleclaw.
The two RiverClan cats rose too, and padded up to join the group. “Don’t worry,” Feathertail murmured, touching Squirrelpaw’s shoulder briefly with her muzzle. “We’re all feeling a bit nervous. It’ll be better once we’re on our way.”
Squirrelpaw’s eyes flashed as if she were about to make a sharp reply, but meeting Feathertail’s gentle gaze she clearly thought better of it, and dipped her head, her neck fur beginning to lie flat again.
As if obeying an unspoken command, all six cats padded through the bushes to the top of the slope, emerging at the edge of WindClan territory. When Brambleclaw looked out on the moorland slopes, the tough, springy grass ruffled by the wind like the fur of a huge animal, his heart pounded until he thought it would burst right out of his chest. This was the moment he had been waiting for, ever since Bluestar ha
d spoken to him in his dream. The time of the new prophecy was here. The journey had begun!
But as he took his first steps across the moor, he was pierced by a sharp pang of regret for everything he was leaving behind—the familiar forest, his place in the Clan, his friends. From now on, everything would be different.
Can we really live by the warrior code outside the forest? Bramble claw wondered. Glancing back to the dark line of the trees, he added silently, Will any of us ever see our Clans again?
Brambleclaw crouched in the shelter of a hedge and looked down at the clustered buildings of a Twoleg farm. Behind him, the other cats shifted restlessly.
“What are we waiting for?” Crowpaw demanded.
“That’s the barn where Ravenpaw and Barley live,” Brambleclaw replied, indicating it with his tail.
“Yes, I know,” meowed the WindClan apprentice. “Mudclaw took me there when I made my apprentice journey to Highstones. We’re not stopping there now, are we?”
“I think perhaps we should.” Brambleclaw was careful not to sound as if he were giving the touchy apprentice an order. “Ravenpaw knows about the sun-drown place. He might be able to tell us something useful.”
“And his barn is crawling with mice.” Tawnypelt swiped her tongue around her whiskers.
“We could do worse than spend the night there,” Brambleclaw agreed. “A couple of good meals will help to build up our strength.”
“But we could easily make Highstones before dark if we keep going,” Crowpaw pointed out.
Brambleclaw suspected uncharitably that the WindClan apprentice was arguing just for the sake of it. “I still think it might be best if we stay here for tonight,” he meowed. “This way we’ll get to Highstones early next morning, with most of the day to get a good start in unknown territory.”
“Would you rather sleep on bare stone with no prey,” Stormfur murmured, “or warm and comfortable with a full stomach? I vote for Barley’s barn.”
“Me too!” Squirrelpaw mewed.
“You don’t get a vote,” Crowpaw retorted.
Squirrelpaw refused to be crushed. Green eyes gleaming with anticipation, she sprang to her paws. “Let’s go!”
“No, wait.” Feathertail pushed in front of the eager apprentice a heartbeat before Brambleclaw. “There are rats around here. We have to be careful.”
“Dogs, too,” Tawnypelt added.
“Oh—OK.”
Brambleclaw remembered that Squirrelpaw hadn’t yet made the journey that all the apprentices took to Highstones before they could be made into warriors. In fact, this must be the first time she had left ThunderClan territory beyond Fourtrees. Privately, he admitted that she had done well so far, crossing WindClan territory without fuss and being sensible about avoiding WindClan patrols so that Crowpaw’s departure could remain secret. Perhaps she would cope better than he first feared with the longer path that lay ahead of them.
Brambleclaw emerged from the hedge and led the way past the farm buildings toward the barn. He froze briefly when he heard the barking of a dog, but it sounded distant, and the scent that came to him was faint.
“Get on, if we’re going,” Crowpaw muttered at his shoulder.
The barn was some way away from the main Twoleg nest. There were holes in the roof, and the door sagged on its supports. Brambleclaw approached warily and sniffed at a gap at the bottom of the door. The scent of mouse flooded his senses; his mouth started to water and he had to concentrate hard to distinguish the cat scent that was almost drowned out.
A familiar voice spoke from just inside. “I smell ThunderClan. Come in, and welcome.”
It was Ravenpaw. Brambleclaw slid through the gap to see the sleek black loner standing just in front of him. Barley, the black-and-white cat who shared the barn with him, was crouched a pace or two behind, his eyes widening uneasily as Brambleclaw’s companions slipped in as well. Brambleclaw realised that Barley had probably not seen so many cats since he came to the forest to help the Clans fight against BloodClan, four seasons ago.
“I took your advice, Ravenpaw,” Brambleclaw meowed. “I think StarClan sent me the dream because they want me to travel to the sun-drown place. These are the cats StarClan has chosen to go as well.”
“Or some of us are,” Crowpaw muttered disagreeably.
Brambleclaw ignored him, and introduced the rest of the cats to Ravenpaw and Barley. The older loner merely dipped his head in greeting and slid away into the shadowy depths of the barn.
“Don’t mind Barley,” Ravenpaw meowed. “It’s not often we have so many visitors all at once. So this is Squirrelpaw,” he went on, touching noses to greet the young apprentice. “Firestar’s daughter! I’ve seen you before, when you were a kit in the nursery with Sandstorm, but you won’t remember that. I said then that you would look just like your father, and now I see I was right.”
Squirrelpaw scuffled her paws in embarrassment; Brambleclaw guessed she was for once lost for words to meet this cat who had played such a large part in the history of her Clan.
“What does Firestar think about the journey?” Ravenpaw asked Brambleclaw. “I’m surprised he let Squirrelpaw go so far when she isn’t a warrior yet.”
Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw exchanged an uneasy glance. “It wasn’t quite like that,” Brambleclaw admitted. “We left without telling him.”
Ravenpaw’s eyes widened with shock, and for a heartbeat Brambleclaw wondered if he would send them away again.
But Ravenpaw only shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that you couldn’t tell him what’s going on,” he meowed. “Perhaps you’ll tell me more when you’ve eaten. Are you all hungry?”
“Starving!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed.
A mrrow of laughter escaped Ravenpaw. “Feel free to hunt,” he invited them. “There are plenty of mice.”
A short time later, Brambleclaw was curled up comfortably in the straw, his stomach stuffed full of mice that had almost lined up to leap into his mouth. If Ravenpaw and Barley ate like this every day, it was no wonder they looked so strong and healthy.
His companions were sprawled around him, equally full and growing sleepy as the sun went down, sending shafts of red light through the holes in the barn roof. All around they could hear scuffling noises and faint squeaking in the straw, as if their hunt had made no difference at all to the number of prey.
“If you don’t mind, we’ll sleep here tonight and leave first thing in the morning,” Brambleclaw meowed.
Ravenpaw nodded. “I’ll come with you as far as Highstones.” Before Brambleclaw could protest that there was no need, he went on, “There are even more Twolegs than before around the Thunderpath. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, so I know the safest ways to go.”
Brambleclaw thanked him, only to feel Crowpaw shift closer to him and mutter into his ear, “Can we trust him?”
Ravenpaw’s ear twitched; he had obviously heard the remark. Brambleclaw thought he was going to sink through the floor with embarrassment, and Squirrelpaw lifted her head to aim a furious hiss at Crowpaw.
“Don’t be angry with him,” Ravenpaw meowed. “That’s good thinking, Crowpaw. Thinking like a warrior, in fact. Where you’re going, you must trust nothing and no cat without very good reason.”
Crowpaw ducked his head, looking pleased at the loner’s praise.
“But you can trust me,” Ravenpaw continued. “I may not be able to do much to help with the rest of your journey, but at least I can see that you get to Highstones safely.”
Wind struck Brambleclaw squarely in the face, flattening his pelt to his sides and almost carrying him off his paws. When he unsheathed his claws to steady himself, they scraped against bare rock. He and his companions were standing on the summit of Highstones, gazing out over endless, unknown territories.
They had set out in the first faint light of dawn and reached the stony slopes well before sunhigh, led swiftly by Ravenpaw. He stood beside Brambleclaw now, his ears pricked into the distance.
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��You’ll avoid that tangle of Thunderpaths,” he meowed, pointing with his tail to the thick grey smudge in the landscape. “Just as well. That’s the place where WindClan took refuge when Brokenstar drove them out. It’s full of rats and carrion.”
“I know about that!” Squirrelpaw put in. “Greystripe told me how he and Firestar went to fetch WindClan back.”
“There are many smaller Thunderpaths to cross,” Ravenpaw went on. “And Twoleg nests to avoid. I’ve travelled that way now and again—not far, but far enough to know that it’s not a place for warriors.”
Squirrelpaw shot a nervous glance at Ravenpaw. “Is there no more forest at all?” she asked.
“Not that I saw.”
“Don’t worry,” Brambleclaw meowed reassuringly. “I’ll look after you.”
To his surprise she whirled on him, the light of fury in her green eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t need looking after!” she spat. “If you’re going to behave like Firestar all the way to the sun-drown place, I might as well have stayed at home.”
“Oh, don’t we wish,” Crowpaw murmured, rolling his eyes.
Tawnypelt gave Squirrelpaw a curious glance. “Are you going to let an apprentice talk to you like that?” she asked her brother.
Brambleclaw shrugged. “You try stopping her.”
His sister’s ears twitched. “ThunderClan!”
Feathertail exchanged a glance with Stormfur, and then padded up to Squirrelpaw’s side. “I’m nervous, too,” she admitted. “I get shivers all along my spine when I think of being so close to all those Twolegs. But StarClan will bring us through.”
Squirrelpaw nodded, though her eyes were still troubled.
“If you’ve all quite finished,” Crowpaw mewed loudly, “it’s time we were moving.”
“OK.” Brambleclaw turned to Ravenpaw. “Thank you for everything,” he meowed. “It makes a difference that you understand why we are doing this.”
The loner dipped his head. “Think nothing of it. Good luck, all of you, and may StarClan light your path.”
He stood aside, and one by one the six cats began to pick their way down the far slope of the hill. The rising sun cast long blue shadows in front of them as they took the first steps on the longest journey of their lives.