by Erin Hunter
Heatherstar looked at the elders. They returned her gaze in silence.
Then Flailfoot spoke. “Talltail is right.”
Lilywhisker nodded. “There are no boundaries in StarClan.”
“If Barkface and Talltail are willing to ask RiverClan for help on behalf of their Clanmate, we should honor them.” Whiteberry dipped his head.
“Very well.” Heatherstar nodded briskly. “If it must be done, then do it now. There’s no time to lose.” She turned toward the medicine den and ordered over her shoulder, “Go!”
Talltail turned and dashed toward the camp entrance. He felt Barkface’s breath on his tail as he raced through the tunnel.
“Not so fast!” Barkface panted when Talltail hared down the slope.
He glanced over his shoulder. Barkface was trailing behind as they streaked toward the border. Talltail slowed. “How are we going to cross the river?” he asked as Barkface caught up.
Barkface frowned. “We might be able to signal a RiverClan patrol from this side.”
“Good plan.” Talltail wasn’t looking forward to getting his fur wet. He wasn’t even sure he could swim. Please let a RiverClan patrol be passing.
Talltail didn’t pause as they crossed the border markers, ignoring the RiverClan scent as it touched his tongue. They scrambled down the steep path at the end of the gorge, and met the river where it widened and slowed after tumbling between the cliffs. Downstream, thick sedge hid the far bank.
“The RiverClan camp must be somewhere over there.” Barkface pointed with his tail toward the dark green rushes.
Talltail tasted the air. Damp, lush scent rolled over his tongue. Then he scanned the flat meadowland beyond the river, hoping to catch sight of a pelt moving through the long grass. “No sign of a patrol. We’re going to have to swim across.”
“Can you swim?” Barkface asked.
“Let’s find out.” Talltail padded over the pebbly shore and waded into the water. He was surprised by the weight of the current. It pushed against his legs and dragged at his belly fur, cold as ice. He shivered. “Do you want to wait here?” Was there any sense in risking both their lives?
Barkface splashed into the water beside him. “They’re less likely to attack if I’m with you,” he meowed. He pushed determinedly into the river.
Talltail watched the water swallow Barkface’s shoulders. “Are you swimming?”
“My paws are still on the bottom.”
Talltail’s heart pricked with hope. Perhaps it was so shallow they’d be able to wade across.
“I’m swimming now!” Barkface’s call was cut short as he disappeared beneath the surface. He appeared a moment later, splashing and coughing.
“Barkface!” Talltail dived after his friend. The icy water soaked through his fur, its chill piercing his bones in a heartbeat. As the bottom disappeared from beneath his paws, he fought panic. Flailing, he tried to haul himself forward, stretching his neck to keep his muzzle in the air. “Barkface!”
“I’m okay!” The medicine cat’s dark pelt moved ahead of him. Barkface wasn’t splashing now; instead he was moving steadily through the water.
Talltail churned his paws, struggling to keep up. The river seemed to be trying to drag him downstream, pulling harder at his haunches than his shoulders so that Talltail felt himself spinning slowly around. He pushed harder with his forepaws, trying to keep straight, his gaze fixed on Barkface. Gulping air, he moved forward jerkily. Imagine that you’re running. Push against the water the same as you would against the earth. He forced his paws into a steady rhythm and braced himself against the current.
He suddenly realized that the far bank was getting closer. A moment later, Barkface was wading out of the water, his pelt dripping, and Talltail felt pebbles roll beneath his pads. He scrabbled to find his paws, weak with relief to be walking on solid ground. He felt as light as air as he staggered from the river.
“We made it!” Barkface stood on the bank and shook the water from his pelt.
Talltail ducked away before the drops showered his face. He’d never felt so cold! A shiver ran through him and he sneezed. “Let’s find a patrol and get out of here,” he growled through chattering teeth.
Barkface stared past him, eyes widening in fear. “Tall—”
A menacing snarl cut him off. “If you’re looking for a patrol, trespassers, you just found one.”
CHAPTER 42
Talltail stepped backward, shielding Barkface. “We need to speak with Brambleberry.”
Three RiverClan cats glared at him. He recognized the sleek pelts of Ottersplash, Rippleclaw, and Owlfur from Gatherings.
Rippleclaw, a black-and-silver tom, tilted his head. His eyes glittered threateningly. “Did Heatherstar send you?”
“Yes.” Barkface ducked out from behind Talltail. “I’m Barkface of WindClan. I must speak with your medicine cat.”
“I know who you are.” Ottersplash curled her lip. “I’d get back in the river, if I were you.”
“Unless you want to be shredded.” Owlfur stepped forward, his brown-and-white pelt twitching.
“There’s no time for fighting,” Barkface hissed. “One of our kits is dying. I need Brambleberry’s help.”
“A kit?” Ottersplash glanced at Rippleclaw.
Rippleclaw’s tail stilled. “Dying?”
Owlfur showed his teeth. “Why’d you bring a warrior with you?” He padded forward and stopped a whisker from Talltail’s muzzle. Fishy breath clouded from his mouth.
“I’m here to protect him.” Talltail dug his claws among the pebbles. “Would you let your Clanmate travel into enemy territory alone?”
The brown-and-white tom’s eyes gleamed. “Then you admit you’re on enemy territory?”
“Do you think we swam the river without noticing?” Talltail looked at the RiverClan warrior’s sleek pelt. “Not all warriors are half fish.”
“Talltail!” Barkface’s sharp mew cut through the freezing air. “We need their help!”
Talltail dipped his head, suddenly remembering Jake’s gentle respect toward Jay, the old she-cat in Twolegplace. His approach had gotten them the information they wanted. “I’m sorry.” He rounded his eyes. “Please let us see Brambleberry. Hopkit’s life may rest in her paws.”
“Let them see her.” A gruff mew sounded from the reeds and Piketooth slid out. He caught Talltail’s eye, wary and tense. Talltail suddenly wondered if Piketooth’s Clanmates knew about his catch on WindClan territory.
Barkface leaned forward. “If Brambleberry says no, we’ll leave.”
“It’s Hailstar who will decide.” Rippleclaw barged past and slid into the reeds.
“This way.” Piketooth beckoned Talltail forward with a flick of his tail and followed Rippleclaw.
Talltail padded after him. “Stay close to me,” he hissed to Barkface. The reeds were stiff as he pushed his way through. Piketooth’s tail disappeared a few paw steps ahead. Behind him, the stalks rattled as Barkface, Ottersplash, and Owlfur followed. After walking along the river for several long moments, during which Talltail felt as if he was being lashed on both flanks by the springy reeds, they emerged into a clearing. The river lapped at one side, seeping through a thick wall of reeds and silvering the marshy earth. Dens dotted the camp, woven from sticks.
“They look like more like birds’ nests than dens,” Talltail whispered in Barkface’s ear.
“They float if it floods,” Barkface whispered.
Talltail blinked, surprised at the ingenuity of the RiverClan cats. Were they as smart as WindClan?
“Wait.” Rippleclaw nodded to Barkface, then ducked into one of the tangled dens.
RiverClan cats blinked from the edges of the clearing, staring in surprise at their visitors.
“Rainflower! Look!” a russet kit squeaked to a gray she-cat.
“What is it, Oakkit?”
“Intruders!” The kit fluffed out its fur, hissing.
Ottersplash padded across the clearing. “They
’ve come for our help.”
Rainflower sniffed. “Why should we help WindClan cats?”
“They say they have a sick kit.” Owlfur prowled beside the reed wall, hackles up.
Rippleclaw reappeared, Hailstar following. The RiverClan leader was round-eyed, his gaze anxious. “You need medicine.”
Barkface hurried forward. “It’s leaf-bare. Our herbs aren’t strong enough. We were hoping Brambleberry would share some sweet-sedge. It’s powerful even in the hardest season.”
Brambleberry’s white face appeared from one of the stick dens. “What’s going on?” She slid out, the black spots on her fur like smudges in snow.
“Brambleberry!” A weak cry sounded from inside the den.
Barkface craned his head, trying to see in. “You sound like you have a sick kit of your own.
“Stormkit.” Brambleberry’s eyes clouded. “He fell.”
“Can I help?” Barkface offered.
“There’s nothing more to be done.” Brambleberry glanced back into the shadows. “Time and care will see him through.” She turned back to Barkface. “Why have you come?”
“Hopkit has an infected paw. The infection’s spreading fast.”
Brambleberry cut him off. “You want sweet-sedge.”
Barkface’s eyes lit. “Can you spare some?”
Brambleberry glanced at her leader. Hailstar dipped his head. “I have some,” Brambleberry mewed, turning back to her den. “Come.”
Talltail watched Barkface disappear into the shadows after the RiverClan medicine cat. He could feel the probing eyes of the RiverClan warriors, hot on his pelt. Shellheart, the dappled-gray deputy, sat on the arching root of a willow, watching through narrowed eyes. Nightsky appeared beside Piketooth. She whispered into her clanmate’s ear, then dipped her head to Talltail. He nodded back. He’d been right to let them cross the border to feed their Clan. Now RiverClan was returning the favor. StarClan willing.
Hailstar lifted his chin. “WindClan has never asked for help before.”
Talltail met his gaze. “WindClan has never needed help before.”
Owlfur’s growl hardened. “But now you do. Has leaf-bare weakened you?”
Talltail’s hackles lifted. Was the RiverClan warrior goading him? He dug his claws deep into the marshy ground. You’re outnumbered, Talltail. Jake’s voice echoed in his mind. Are you really going to start a fight? Warmth stirred in his chest and his fur smoothed. “WindClan is grateful for your kindness.” He bowed his head low to Hailstar.
“No warrior would let a kit die, no matter the Clan.” As Hailstar spoke, Barkface padded from Brambleberry’s den with a thick, white root between his jaws.
“He must swallow the sap!” Brambleberry called after him.
Barkface flicked his tail, his mouth too full to answer.
Hailstar stepped forward. “Ottersplash and Rippleclaw will help you cross the river.”
“We managed to get here alone,” Talltail pointed out.
“You were lucky,” Hailstar meowed grimly. “There are dangerous currents when rain has swollen the waters.”
Talltail pushed back a growl. He hated being treated like a kit. And he suspected that the RiverClan leader was more interested in making sure they left his territory than in keeping them from drowning. But they had been given what they’d come for. That was enough. He paused as Rippleclaw pushed in front of him and led him along a winding trail through the reeds. Barkface trotted after him with Ottersplash at his heels.
At the shore, Rippleclaw stayed close to Barkface as the medicine cat waded into the water. The RiverClan warrior guided Barkface across, boosting him forward with her shoulder.
“I can swim by myself,” Talltail told Ottersplash.
Ottersplash stared at him coldly. “Would you let me run through rabbit tunnels by myself?”
Talltail stiffened. Did RiverClan know about the maze of tunnels beneath WindClan? Of course not. She’s just guessing that we chase rabbits into their burrows.
“Come on, then!” Ottersplash was already padding into the water.
Talltail braced himself as the freezing water lapped over his shoulders. He churned his paws clumsily while beside him, Ottersplash moved through the water like a snake. As he struggled to stay afloat, she glided at his side, hardly ruffling the surface. An eddy tugged him suddenly, spinning him off course. Water dragged at his paws down. The river was trying to swallow him! He thrashed in panic, jerking his head around. Where was Ottersplash? Had the river swallowed her too?
Suddenly something hard pushed against his belly. Beneath the water, a strong back steadied him while he regained his balance, then disappeared. A moment later, Ottersplash broke the surface. She blew water from her nose.
“Hailstar warned you about the currents,” she murmured, and swam close beside Talltail until they reached the shore where Barkface and Rippleclaw were shaking out their pelts.
Talltail stretched his feet down to the pebbles, relieved as he felt them underpaw, and staggered out after Ottersplash. “Thanks,” he grunted.
Ottersplash shrugged. “I’m impressed a WindClan cat can swim at all.”
Rippleclaw nodded along the trail toward the gorge. “We’ll watch you go,” he meowed. “To make sure you don’t have trouble on the path. It’s steep beside the gorge.”
He wants to make sure we cross the border. Talltail prickled with irritation. Why was an invisible scent line so important?
“Thanks.” Barkface shook the water from his fur. He dipped his head to the RiverClan warriors, the precious plant in his jaws.
Talltail swished his tail, stirring the pebbles behind. “Thanks,” he grunted, and headed toward the gorge.
At the top, Barkface dropped the root at Talltail’s paws. “Take this to Hawkheart as quickly as you can. You’re faster than me and he’ll know what to do with it.”
“Okay.” Talltail grabbed the root and pelted up the slope toward camp. The wind streamed through his ears, freezing the tips.
As he burst into camp and raced across the clearing, Hawkheart stuck his head out of the medicine den. “You got it!” He snatched the root from Talltail’s mouth and disappeared inside. Talltail paced in a tight circle outside.
Meadowslip hurried over with her mate, Hickorynose.
Hickorynose glanced at Talltail’s wet pelt. “Did you swim the river?” His eyes widened.
“It was the only way across.”
Hickorynose dipped his head. “Thank you, Talltail. Your courage may have saved our kit’s life.” He looked past Talltail toward the medicine den.
Talltail followed his gaze. “Let’s hope it works.”
“I smell grouse.” Dawnstripe jerked her head toward the heather. It shimmered, frost-tipped, in the early morning sunshine. Beside her, the bramble that marked the Fourtrees border still reeked with the stench of ShadowClan.
Aspenfall tasted the air, nodding. “Definitely grouse.”
Plumclaw lifted her tail. “It’ll make a good meal for the elders.”
Talltail was impressed with how willingly the tunnelers had slipped into the role of moor runners now that all the tunnels had been blocked off. Their underground duties had given them agility and strength, traits easily turned to hunting on the moor.
Dawnstripe headed across the grass. “Perhaps Hopkit will be well enough to eat some today.”
In the sunrises since Talltail and Barkface had returned from RiverClan, Hopkit had rarely been conscious. The sedge root hadn’t cured him overnight, but it seemed to have slowed the infection and given the young tom a chance to fight for his life. Barkface had even reported that the swelling in his paw had begun to ease. Hopkit might yet recover.
“Talltail?” Dawnstripe’s mew jolted Talltail from his thoughts. Plumclaw and Aspenfall were already nosing their way into the wide swathe of heather. “Are you coming?”
Talltail’s nose twitched as he scented rabbit. “You can catch grouse without me,” he told her. “I smell prey here.”
“You’d rather hunt alone?” Dawnstripe narrowed her eyes, then followed her Clanmates without waiting for an answer.
Why waste four warriors on one catch? Talltail watched her tail disappear into the heather, then sniffed the grass. The ShadowClan stink from the bramble was distracting, but as he followed the faint rabbit scent along the slope to where it dipped toward the Thunderpath, it grew stronger. His mouth began to water. He’d never caught rabbit here before. Rabbits rarely strayed this far from their burrows. Halfway down the slope, he paused. Unease pricked in his pelt.
Lifting his head, he tasted the air. There was more than one rabbit scent here. There were many. Had they dug new burrows on the slope? He scanned the grass, looking for tunnel openings, but it was smooth and unbroken. Why had so many rabbits passed this way? Deep in his belly, worry churned harder.
The Thunderpath ran along the bottom of the slope. Monsters hurtled past, their roars ringing through the stone-cold air. Talltail blocked out their stench and tried to focus on the scent of rabbit. He suddenly realized it was tinged with blood. He wasn’t smelling live prey; he was smelling fresh-kill! He padded farther down the slope, flattening his ears. His time in Twolegplace had taught him that the monsters were more noise than danger so long as he stayed clear of their path.
The blood stench sharpened as he drew closer. Perhaps rabbits were killed by monsters here. Talltail scanned the glittering, black stone of the Thunderpath. There was no sign of crow-food. Sniffing, he followed the blood scent along its edge. He slowed. He was nearing the tunnel that passed underneath the Thunderpath and joined WindClan territory to ShadowClan’s border, echoing with the howls of the monsters hurtling over it. He hadn’t been here in a long time. Dawnstripe had shown him the opening when he was an apprentice, but WindClan warriors rarely patrolled in this corner. There was little to hunt here, and ShadowClan scent markers didn’t begin until the other side of the Thunderpath.
Curiosity pulled Talltail on. The blood scent tainted the air, stronger as he neared. He scrambled down the ditch at the edge of the Thunderpath and pushed through the long grass choking the tunnel entrance. Blood streaked the stems, and as he slid into the dank, stinking tunnel, he saw more blood frozen into the muddy water pooled at the bottom. How many rabbits had been killed and dragged through here? Talltail swallowed. ShadowClan scents hung fresh in the air.