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Chapter Text

ThunderClan

Leader: Firestar-ginger tom with a flame-colored pelt

Deputy: NA

Medicine Cats: Cinderpelt-dark gray she-cat

    Apprentice, Leafpaw

Warriors: 

Dustpelt-dark brown tabby tom (father to Ferncloud’s kits)

Apprentice, Squirrelpaw

Sandstorm-pale ginger she-cat

Cloudtail-long-haired white tom

Apprentice, Spiderpaw

Brackenfur-golden brown tabby tom (father to Sorreltail’s kits)

Apprentice, Whitepaw

Thornclaw-golden brown tabby tom

Brightheart-white she-cat with ginger patches

Brambleclaw-dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Ashfur-pale gray (with darker flecks) tom, dark blue eyes

Rainwhisker-dark gray tom with blue eyes

Sootfur-lighter gray tom with amber eyes

Sorreltail-tortoiseshell and white she-cat with amber eyes

Apprentices: 

Squirrelpaw-dark ginger she-cat with green eyes

Leafpaw-light brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes

Whitepaw-white she-cat with green eyes

Spiderpaw-long-limbed black tom with brown underbelly and amber eyes

Queens:

Ferncloud-pale gray (with darker flecks) she-cat, green eyes, mother to Birchkit-light brown tabby tom

Sorreltail-tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat with amber eyes

Daisy-cream-colored, long-furred cat from the horseplace

Elders:

Goldenflower-pale ginger coat, the oldest nursery queen

Longtail-pale tabby tom with dark black stripes, retired early due to failing sight

ShadowClan

Leader: Blackstar-large white tom with huge jet black paws

Deputy: Russetfur-dark ginger she-cat

Medicine Cat: Littlecloud-very small tabby tom

Warriors: 

Oakfur-small, light brown tom with green eyes (father to Whitewater’s kits)

Apprentice, Smokepaw

Nightwhisper-scrawny, sleek brown tom with green eyes and a distinctive pointed muzzle (father to Tallpoppy’s kits)

Apprentice, Snowpaw

Nightwing-black she-cat with green eyes

Snaketail-dark brown tom with tabby-striped tail

Marrowflight-dark ginger she-cat with amber eyes

Apprentice, Ratpaw

Cedarheart-dark gray tom

Apprentice, Kinkpaw

Rowanclaw-ginger tom

Apprentice, Talonpaw

Tawnypelt-tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

Crowfrost-black-and-white tom

Apprentices:

Talonpaw-silver tabby with white paws and amber eyes

Smokepaw-black tom

Kinkpaw-tabby she-cat, with fur that sticks out at all angles

Snowpaw-pure white she-cat

Ratpaw-brown tom

Queens:

Tallpoppy-long-legged light brown tabby she-cat, mother to Applekit-mottled brown she-cat, Toadkit-dark brown tom, and Marshkit- patched brown tom with orange eyes

Whitewater-white she-cat with long fur, blind in one eye, mother to Ivykit-black, white, and tortoiseshell she-cat and Owlkit-light brown tabby tom

Elders:

Runningnose-small gray and white tom, formerly the medicine cat

Boulder-skinny gray tom

WindClan

Leader: Tallstar-elderly black and white tom with a very long tail

Deputy: Mudclaw-mottled dark brown tom 

Medicine Cat: Barkface-short-tailed brown tom

Warriors: 

Tornear-tabby tom

Apprentice, Owlpaw

Webfoot-dark gray tabby tom

Apprentice, Weaselpaw

Ashfoot-gray she-cat

Apprentice: Dewpaw

Onewhisker-brown tabby tom

Emberfoot-gray tom with two dark paws

Thistleleaf-light brown tabby tom (father of Whitetail’s kits)

Willowclaw-gray she-cat

Apprentice, Antpaw

Leaftail-dark tabby tom with amber eyes (father of Briarnose’s kit)

Snowflight-white tom with gray eyes

Hailpelt-light gray she-cat

Crowfeather-dark gray, almost black tom with blue eyes

Nightcloud-muscular, wiry, sleek-furred black she-cat with amber eyes

Gorsetail-very pale gray-and-white she-cat with blue eyes

Apprentices:

Owlpaw-light brown tabby tom

Weaselpaw-ginger tom with white paws

Antpaw-brown tom with one black ear

Dewpaw-spotted gray tabby she-cat

Queens:

Briarnose-brown she-cat, mother of Harekit-a brown-and-white tom and Kestrelkit-a soft-furred mottled gray tom with white splotches like kestrel feathers and blue eyes; fostering Darkk; fostering Darkkit-a white tom with patches of black spots, vivid blue eyes, and a long, black tail

Whitetail-small white she-cat

Elders:

Morningflower-tortoiseshell she-cat

Rushtail-light brown tom

RiverClan

Leader: Leopardstar-unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat

Deputy: Mistyfoot-gray she-cat with blue eyes

Medicine Cat: Mothwing-dappled golden she-cat

Warriors:

Blackclaw-smoky black tom

Apprentice, Volepaw

Heavystep-thickset tabby tom

Apprentice, Stonepaw

Mintfur-light gray tabby tom (father of Dawnflower’s kits)

Otterheart-dark brown she-cat

Apprentice-Pinepaw

Duskfur-brown tabby she-cat

Apprentice, Rainpaw

Hawkfrost-dark brown tom with a white underbelly and ice-blue eyes.

Reedwhisker-black tom

Apprentice, Ripplepaw

Swallowtail-dark brown tabby she-cat

Apprentice, Beechpaw

Apprentices:

Volepaw-small brown tabby tom

Stonepaw-gray tom

Ripplepaw-dark gray tabby tom

Beechpaw-light brown tom

Rainpaw-mottled gray-blue tom

Pinepaw-very short-haired tabby she-cat

Queens:

Mosspelt-tortoiseshell she-cat, mother to Willowkit-small, lithe, sleek, thick, and soft-furred pale gray tabby she-cat with bright green eyes (half-sister to Dawnflower)

Dawnflower-pale gray she-cat, mother to Minnowkit-sleek-furred, dark gray-and-white she-cat, Tumblekit-black she-cat, and Pebblekit-mottled gray tom

Elders: NA

Chapter Text

Brambleclaw stood at the top of the slope, gazing at the claw-pricks of silver fire reflected in the lake below. The Clans had finally found their new home, just as Midnight had promised. StarClan was waiting for them, and they were safe from the Twoleg monsters at last.

Around him, warriors from all four Clans murmured to each other, staring uneasily at the dark, unfamiliar space at the foot of the hill. Rowanclaw of ShadowClan pressed close to Tawnypelt, Brambleclaw’s sister who had left ThunderClan to join ShadowClan. Leaftail, Emberfoot, and Snowflight of WindClan looked around nervously, while Duskfur and Heavystep murmured reassuringly to their apprentices Rainpaw and Stonepaw. All of the medicine cats were holding a whispered conversation, except for Leafpaw, who was standing with Crowfeather and Nightcloud.

“It’s impossible to tell what’s down there in this light.” Brightheart, a ginger-and-white ThunderClan warrior, swung around so that her one good eye could take in the whole of the landscape.

Her mate, Cloudtail, twitched his tail. “How bad can it be? Think what we’ve come through to get here. We can fight off anything on four legs.”

Brightheart’s brothers, Brackenfur and Thornclaw, pushed their way through the crowd of cats to join their sister. “StarClan has guided us this far,” Brackenfur said calmly.

Thornclaw nodded. “This is where they want us to be. Everything will work out.”

Brambleclaw purred. For as long as he could remember, Brightheart and Thornclaw had been somewhat separate from their littermates, since Bluestar had apprenticed Brackenfur and Cinderpelt early. But the loss of the forest and the journey to find a new home had brought them closer, much like it had with with all the Clans. Brightheart had helped Cinderpelt with herbs several times, and all three of the warriors had been hunting together more often.

ThunderClan’s youngest warriors, the littermates Rainwhisker, Sootfur, and Sorreltail were with the group as well. The three cats had a stronger sibling bond than most, as their father Whitestorm had been killed in the battle against BloodClan, and their mother Willowpelt had died fighting a badger going after Sootfur during the gray warrior’s apprenticeship. They were also close to Brightheart and Ferncloud, who’d watched over them initially after Willowpelt’s death. Brambleclaw had grown closer to them as well, having trained with them for part of his apprenticeship, and he thought of them as younger siblings.

“We can fight off any animal that comes after us,” Rainwhisker promised.

Sootfur nodded agreement. “Nothing will get past us!”

Brightheart pressed her muzzle against Rainwhisker and Sootfur’s in turn, while Brackenfur stroked his tail along Sorreltail’s flank.

“And what about Twolegs?” demanded Russetfur, the ShadowClan deputy.

“The journey has left us all tired and weak,” Blackclaw of RiverClan added. “Foxes and badgers could track us down when we’re all out in the open like this.”

For a moment, Brambleclaw felt a tremor of fear. Then he braced his shoulders. StarClan would not have brought them here if they did not believe the Clans could survive in their new territories.

“What are we waiting for?” a new voice spoke up. “Are we going to stand here all night?”

Stifling a mrrow of laughter, Brambleclaw turned to see his Clanmate Squirrelpaw standing behind him. Warmth flooded through him as the ginger apprentice tore the tough, springy grass with her front claws, her green eyes glowing in anticipation.

“Brambleclaw, look!” she purred. “We did it! We found our new home!”

She tucked her hind legs under her, ready to dash down the hill, but before she could take off, Firestar and Sandstorm pushed through the cats and stood in her way.

“Wait.” The ThunderClan leader touched his daughter’s shoulder affectionately with the tip of his tail. “We’ll go together and keep a sharp lookout for trouble. This may be the place that StarClan wished us to find, but they would not expect us to leave our wits in the forest.”

“And there will be plenty of time for us to explore once we know it’s safe,” Sandstorm added, her whiskers twitching in amusement.

Squirrelpaw dipped her head respectfully and stepped back, but when she shot a sideways glance at Brambleclaw, he saw that her eyes still gleamed with excitement. For Squirrelpaw, their journey’s end could not possibly be scary. Even if there was danger, Brambleclaw was well aware that she could face it fiercely. She was going to be an excellent warrior.

Firestar padded over to join Blackstar and Leopardstar, the leaders of ShadowClan and RiverClan. “I suggest we send a patrol ahead,” he meowed. “Just a couple of cats, to find out what it’s like down there.”

“Good idea–but we can’t just stand here and wait for them to return,” Leopardstar objected. “It’s much too exposed.”

Blackstar grunted in agreement. “If a fox came along now, it could pick off the weaker cats with trouble at all.” At his words, Ferncloud and Briarnose, drew their kits closer to them. Both queens had lost kits during the destruction of the forest.

“But we need to rest.” Mudclaw of WindClan came up to join the discussion. His leader, Tallstar, lay on the ground a little way off, with the medicine cat Barkface crouching over him. “Tallstar can’t go much further.” Resignation filled his voice.

“Then let’s send the patrol right away,” Firestar suggested, “and the rest of us will follow more slowly until we find somewhere more sheltered. Yes, Mudclaw,” he added, as the WindClan deputy opened his mouth to argue, “we’re all tired, but we’ll sleep more easily if we’re not stuck out on the open hillside like this.”

Blackstar called Russetfur over to him, while Leopardstar signaled with her tail for her deputy, Mistyfoot.

“I want you to go as far as the lake, then come straight back,” Leopardstar ordered. “Find out what you can, but be quick, and stay out of sight.”

The two cats flicked their ears, then whirled and raced away, loping along with their bellies close to the ground; within a couple of heartbeats, they had vanished into the darkness.

Firestar watched them go before letting out a yowl to call the rest of the cats around him. Mudclaw went back to Tallstar and nudged the old leader his paws, allowing the weaker cat to lean against his shoulder. The Clans clustered together behind the leaders of ThunderClan, RiverClan, and ShadowClan and began to follow them down the slope toward the lake.

Brambleclaw hesitated for a moment. “What’s the matter?” Squirrelpaw demanded, noticing that he wasn’t moving. “Why are you standing there like a frozen rabbit?”

“I want…” Brambleclaw glanced around and spotted his sister Tawnypelt padding past a little way off; he summoned her with a jerk of his head. “I want all of us to go down together,” he explained when the tortoiseshell she-cat joined, pressing her muzzle to his in greeting. “All the cats who made the first journey.”

Four cats remained from the six who had left the forest in search of the sun-drown-place they’d received dreams and signs of. They had gained something very precious on that journey: as well as a message about how to find a safe place for their Clans to live, a strong bond had been forged between them, stronger than rock and deeper than the endless water that washed against the cliffs where Midnight the badger lived.

Now Brambleclaw wanted to travel with his friends one more time before their duties to their separate Clans forced them apart.

Tawnypelt let out a purr of approval. Meeting her green gaze, Brambleclaw knew that, like him, she understood they would soon be rivals again; that the next time they met, once the Clans separated, could be in battle. The pain of parting swelled in his heart, and he pressed his muzzle to his sister’s again, feeling her breath warm against his whiskers.

“Where’s Crowfeather?” she asked.

Brambleclaw looked up and spotted the young WindClan warriors a few tail-lengths away, still with Nightcloud and Leafpaw, anxiously pacing beside Tallstar. The WindClan leader looked so exhausted he could hardly put one paw in front of the other; his long tail dragged on the ground, and he was leaning heavily against Mudclaw and the brown tabby warrior Onewhisker. The WindClan medicine cat, Barkface, had left the other medicine cats, and was walking close behind, a worried look on his face.

“Hey, Crowfeather!” Squirrelpaw called.

The WindClan cat bounded across. Nightcloud remained to watch over Tallstar, but Leafpaw came with him. “What do you want?”

Brambleclaw ignored his unwelcoming tone. Crowfeather’s tongue was sharp enough to slice a cat’s ears off, but if danger threatened, he would fight to his last breath to defend his friends. The dark gray warrior had also started to soften since he and Nightcloud had started becoming close.

“Travel down to the lake with us,” Tawnypelt urged. “We should finish this journey how we started–together.”

Crowfeather bowed his head. “There’s no point,” he murmured. “We’ll never be together again. Stormfur lives in the mountains now, and Feathertail is dead.”

Brambleclaw ran his tail lightly over the young warrior’s shoulder. He shared his grief for the beautiful RiverClan cat who had sacrificed her life to save Crowfeather and the Tribe cats from the terrible lion-cat known as Sharptooth. Then Feathertail’s brother Stormfur had stayed with the Tribe of Rushing Water because of his love for the prey-hunter Brook. Brambleclaw missed him bitterly, but he knew that pain was nothing compared to the agony Crowfeather felt over Feathertail’s death. It seem that only his determination to save his Clan and his friendship with Nightcloud (he could see the two becoming mates) and Leafpaw were the only things keeping him going.

“Feathertail is with us now,” Squirrelpaw insisted, coming to join them. Her eyes shown with the strength of her belief. “If you don’t know that Crowfeather, you’re even more mousebrained than I thought. And we’ll see Stormfur again, I’m sure. We’re closer to the mountain here than we were in the forest.”

Crowfeather let out a long sigh. “Okay,” he meowed. “Let’s go.”

Leafpaw turned to leave, but Brambleclaw motioned for her to stay. “You’re just as much a part of this as any of us,” he told her. “Especially since you’re the one who received most of the messages StarClan sent to guide us here.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Most of the cats had gone past them already, moving cautiously across the unfamiliar territory, keeping close to each other as they had done throughout the long and dangerous journey to get here. A little way ahead, Brambleclaw saw Mothwing, the RiverClan medicine cat, and her brother Hawkfrost walking beside a group of apprentices from all four Clans. His half-brother was looking around carefully, seeming surprisingly protective of the younger cats. On the far side of a patch of gorse, the ground fell away into a grassy hollow. Tallpoppy and Dawnflower, ShadowClan and RiverClan queens respectively, were struggling to guide the kits down the steep slope; Cloudtail and Brightheart hurried over to help, along with Nightcloud and Thistleleaf of WindClan and Blackclaw. All five warriors picked up a kit in their jaws. Farther down the slope, Cedarheart, a gray ShadowClan tom, and Whitetail, a small white she-cat, prowled along the edge of a thorn thicket, gazes flicking back and forth as they kept watch for foxes and badgers that might be looking for easy prey. Reedwhisker, Sootfur, and Sorreltail conversed easily with Weaselpaw and Owlpaw of WindClan. Reedwhisker of RiverClan was telling a joke to several apprentices, including his own, Ripplepaw, Dewpaw of WindClan, and Talonpaw of ShadowClan.

If he had not known these cats all his life, Brambleclaw would not have been able to distinguish one Clan from another; they walked side by side, helping one another. He wondered grimly how long it would be before they were divided again, and how painful that separation would be. At least most of these cats had their whole families in their own Clans, though he suspected Birchkit would be devastated when Applekit, Marshkit, and Toadkit of ShadowClan would have to leave. The kits were too young to understand why the Clans had to be separated.

At an impatient exclamation from Squirrelpaw–“Come on, Brambleclaw, or we’ll leave you to make a den for yourself here!”–he headed down the slope, pausing every so often to draw in the night air. The scent of cat was strongest–to be expected when all four Clans were so mingled–but beneath it, he could detect the scents of mouse and vole and rabbit. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten; surely the leaders would allow them to hunt soon?

He was imagining the delicious taste of mouse when he was startled by a hiss from Tawnypelt, who was a couple of tail-lengths ahead of him. “Look at that!” spat the ShadowClan warrior, pointing with her tail.

Brambleclaw’s ears pricked when he saw the thin mesh of a Twoleg fence shining like a huge cobweb in the pale dawn light. Two or three of the other cats had paused to stare apprehensively at it as well.

“I knew we’d come across Twolegs sooner or later!” Squirrelpaw meowed with a disgusted twitch of her tail.

Brambleclaw tasted the air again. He could pick up the scent of Twolegs, but it was faint and stale. There was another, less familiar scent too, and he had to think hard before he remembered what it was.

“Horses.” Crowfeather confirmed his guess. “There’s one over there.”

He gestured with his tail, and Brambleclaw noticed a large, dark shape standing under a cluster of trees some way inside the fence. He thought there was another one beside it, though it was hard to tell in the shadows cast by the branches.

“What are horses?” Whitepaw mewed worriedly, as she peered through the fence.

“Nothing to worry about,” Tornear from WindClan reassured her, touching the apprentice’s shoulder with the tip of his tail. “They used to run across our territory sometimes, with Twolegs on their backs.”

Whitepaw blinked as if she couldn’t quite believe him.

“We saw some of them on our journey to the sun-drown-place,” Brambleclaw added. “They didn’t take any notice of us when we crossed their field. It’s the Twolegs looking after them that we need to watch out for.” Privately, he guessed the Clans would never stop watching out for Twolegs.

“I can’t see any Twoleg nests,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “Maybe these horse things look after themselves.” Tornear looked skeptical about that, but he didn’t argue.

“Let’s hope so,” meowed Brambleclaw. “Horses alone shouldn’t bother us.”

“Provided we stay away from their clumsy feet,” added Squirrelpaw.

Bramblepaw purred good-naturedly. “They’d never catch you anyway,” he told her. “You’re much too fast for them.”

“Unless you get stuck again,” Tawnypelt teased.

Whitepaw’s eyes widened. “Stuck?” she echoed.

Crowfeather snorted in amusement. “Squirrelpaw has a tendency to get stuck in things,” he told her.

“Stop it, mousebrain!” Squirrelpaw hissed playfully. “We don’t need to talk about this.”

The cats followed the Twoleg fence until they came to a thicket of trees where the other cats were gathering. Glancing around, Brambleclaw spotted Cinderpelt, the ThunderClan medicine cat.

“What’s going on?” Squirrelpaw demanded. “Why are we stopping?”

“The patrol the leaders sent has just come back,” Cinderpelt explained.

Following her gaze, Brambleclaw saw the leaders of the four Clans and Mudclaw standing close together beside a tree stump. Mistyfoot and Russetfur faced them. The other cats had sunk down on the short springy grass around the tree stump, glad of the chance to rest.

With the others behind him, Brambleclaw weaved through the cats until he was close enough to hear what the Clan leaders were saying.

Mistyfoot was just giving her report: “The ground’s very boggy by the lake. There’s no point going any farther until daylight. We don’t want to lose any cats in the mud.”

“ShadowClan is used to wet ground underpaw,” Blackstar reminded her, before any of the other leaders could comment. “But we’ll stay with the rest of you if that’s what you want.” There was an edge to his tone, as if ShadowClan were granting them a huge favor by not going ahead to explore on their own.

Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes. It seemed too soon for the Clans to begin competing with one another over who claimed which part of the new territory. He had grown used to having all four Clans around him, ignoring the differences that had kept them apart for more seasons than any cat could remember. He was also afraid that some cats were weaker and more exhausted than others, which might make any clashes more damaging than they needed to be. 

He hoped the leaders would decide to stay where they were for the rest of the night. The hills were still close to cut down the force of the wind, and the trees provided even more welcome shelter. A strong scent of prey drifted from the shadows, and his paws itched to hunt.

“I think we should stay here,” Firestar meowed, to Brambleclaw’s relief. “We all need to rest, and it sounds pretty uncomfortable by the lake.”

Leopardstar murmured agreement. Before Firestar had finished speaking, Tallstar collapsed onto his side and lay there panting, as if he couldn’t manage a single pawstep more.

Mudclaw bent down beside him and sniffed him briefly. “Just rest now,” he told the WindClan leader, sounding gentler than Brambleclaw had ever imagined possible. “I’ll watch over the Clan.”

“Tallstar looks exhausted,” Brambleclaw murmured to Crowfeather. “This is his last life, isn’t it?”

Crowfeather nodded, his face somber. “He’ll be fine now that we’re here,” he meowed, though Brambleclaw suspected that he was trying to convince himself as much as any cat.

Blackstar leaped up to the top if the tree stump. The powerful white tom stood with tail held high, his huge black paws planted on the rough wood. He lout out a commanding yowl, and the faces of all the cats turned toward him to listen.

“Cats of all Clans!” he called as the last stragglers came up. “We have reached the place StarClan meant us to find, but we are all tired and hungry. We will make camp here until we have rested.”

“Who asked him to speak for the leaders?” Squirrelpaw muttered. Her green eyes flashed indignantly as Brambleclaw, spotting a couple of ShadowClan warriors within earshot, silenced her with a flick of his tail across her mouth.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “but we don’t want to start any fights right now.” She nodded reluctantly.

“What about fresh-kill?” a cat called from the back.

“We will wait until sunrise,” Blackstar replied. “Then the prey will be running and there’ll be enough for us all.”

“Meanwhile, we ought to keep watch,” Firestar added, leaping up beside Blackstar so that the ShadowClan leader had to step back a pace. “Deputies, find two or three warriors who can stay awake for a while longer. We don’t want foxes sneaking up on us while we’re asleep.” He nodded at Brackenfur, indicating that the senior warrior should take on the task for ThunderClan.

Mudclaw, who seemed to be speaking for WindClan since Tallstar was so weak, meowed his agreement, followed by Leopardstar. The brief meeting broke up, and the cats began looking for places to sleep. Barkface nudged Tallstar to his feet and helped him to a clump of long grass, where the frail leader lay down again, trembling from nose to tail. Onewhisker sat close to him and began to lick his fur gently.

“I guess I’ll be needed,” Crowfeather mewed. He pressed his muzzle to Leafpaw’s before loping away to join the rest of his Clan. Nightcloud licked his cheek.

Tawnypelt touched noses with her brother. “I’d better check in with Russetfur,” she meowed. “See you later, Brambleclaw.” Whisking around, she headed for a group of her Clanmates who were clustered around the ShadowClan deputy. Rowanclaw smiled when he saw her and the two cats twined their tails together.

Brambleclaw wondered if he ought to volunteer to keep watch. Even though he had been a warrior for fewer than four seasons, ThunderClan needed every cat to help feed and protect their Clanmates, especially since they had lost their deputy just before leaving the forest. Shivering, Brambleclaw remembered how Graystripe had been trapped by Twolegs and carried away inside a Twoleg monster. He glanced at Firestar to see his leader talking with Thornclaw and Brackenfur. He guessed he wouldn’t be needed right away, so he looked around to see if any of the other ThunderClan cats could use his help. 

Dustpelt stood in the shadows beneath the trees with his mate, Ferncloud, and their son Birchkit, the only one of their latest litter to survive the cold and lack of prey back in the forest. Ferncloud was crouched over Longtail, nosing him anxiously as he lay in the grass. Longtail was not many seasons older than Dustpelt, but he had been forced to join the elders when his eyesight failed, and though the journey from the forest had been particularly hard for him, he’d hunted as much as any cat. Goldenflower, Brambleclaw’s mother, lay close to his flank on the other side.

She purred when she saw him. “Brambleclaw!” she greeted warmly, rasping her tongue over his forehead.

He purred back. He hadn’t been able to spend much time with Goldenflower on the journey, instead focused on trying to lead the Clans to their new home.

Dustpelt nudged the pale tabby tom’s shoulder. “Come on, Longtail,” he meowed. “Not far now.”

Squirrelpaw bounded over to help and Dustpelt flicked his tail at her fondly. Brambleclaw spotted a sheltered place where the ground fell away a couple of tail-lengths beyond the clump of trees; grass grew thickly there, and a few bushes with low-growing branches.

“What about making a den over there?” he suggested, pointing with his tail.

“Good idea,” meowed Dustpelt. He nosed Longtail again. “It’s all right, Longtail; you can sleep as long as you want once we get you to a more sheltered place.”

Longtail heaved himself to his paws. Squirrelpaw padded beside him with her tail on his shoulder to guide him. Brambleclaw let Goldenflower lean on his shoulder, while Ferncloud encouraged Birchkit to follow.

“This had better be the place we’re looking for,” Dustpelt remarked, looking around at the exhausted cats. “None of us has the strength to travel any farther.”

Brambleclaw didn’t reply. He knew Dustpelt was right–but he couldn’t tell him for sure that this was the place StarClan had meant them to find. He watched the others slide between the branches and settle into the piles of dry leaves under the bushes. Behind him, Leafpaw was padding with a mouthful of moss for bedding she’d wisely thought to bring; he recalled the medicine cat apprentice’s unquestioning faith that their warrior ancestors had made the journey with them. He wished he could feel the same certainty. All along, he had clung to the belief that their troubles would be over when the reached their new territory. Now, daunted by the strangeness of everything around him, he could see they were only just beginning.

Squirrelpaw’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Dustpelt, do you want us to hunt for you?” Brambleclaw felt a surge of respect and affection for the she-cat, who was as exhausted he was, but she was still trying to help out.

Her mentor flicked her ear with his tail. “No, we’ll all hunt later. Look at you; you’re asleep on your paws. Go with Brambleclaw and get some rest.”

“Okay,” Squirrelpaw’s jaws split into an enormous yawn.

“What about under that gorse bush?” Brambleclaw led the way to the spot he had pointed out a few tail-lengths up the slope, and crawled under the lowest boughs.

Squirrelpaw followed him and curled into a tight ball with her tail over her nose. “Good night,” she murmured indistinctly, as Leafpaw curled up beside her.

Brambleclaw spotted Spiderpaw and Whitepaw looking around and beckoned for them to join the group. “Come on,” he meowed. The two apprentices scurried over and practically fell asleep immediately.

He scrabbled in the debris beneath the bush until he had made a comfortable nest in front of the apprentices. Curling up close to Squirrelpaw, he breathed in her warm, familiar scent. He was glad that they had not made a proper camp yet, where warriors and apprentices would have their separate dens. He would miss sleeping next to Squirrelpaw.

Looking around the area outside the bush, he saw Sorreltail, Rainwhisker, and Sootfur in a glorified kit-pile. Just beside them was Ashfur, who was glaring directly towards Squirrelpaw and Leafpaw. Before Brambleclaw could think about this any further, sleep covered him like the lapping of a soft black wave.

*  *  *  *  *

“Wake up, Brambleclaw! You’ve been asleep forever–what do you think you are, a hedgehog?”

Brambleclaw’s eyes flew open to see Squirrelpaw prodding him with her forepaw. Watery yellow daylight was seeping through the branches of the gorse bush. Looking around, he saw the other cats stirring, a scowl on Leafpaw’s face.

“Honestly, Squirrelpaw, is that really necessary?” The medicine cat apprentice growled at her sister.

“It’s morning,” Squirrelpaw pointed out. “Let’s go see if we can hunt. If you can stop hibernating, that is.”

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Brambleclaw staggered to his paws, shook scraps of dead leaves from his pelt, and followed Squirrelpaw into the open. Whitepaw and Spiderpaw padded behind them, while Leafpaw came more slowly.

As his exhaustion faded, it was replaced by a renewed feeling of anxiety as he looked at the landscape in daylight for the first time. He wondered if this vast, unfamiliar place would ever seem like home.

A cold breeze blew, ridging the surface of the lake and rattling through the reeds that edged the shore. The shining gray water stretched in front of Brambleclaw almost as far as he could see; above the hills that rose on one side, a glow in the sky showed where the sun would shortly rise. Back the way they had come, the land sloped up more gently to bare moorland. The Twoleg fence stretched across it, and in the growing light, Brambleclaw could just make out a couple of Twoleg nests in the distance. He let out a faint sound of approval; such small nests couldn’t hold many Twolegs, and being so far away, they were unlikely to interfere with the Clans.

Farther around the lake, below the hills, was a smudge that looked like gray-green mist; Brambleclaw realized it was a mass of leafless branches, stretching along the shore and up to the crest of the ridge. His heart lifted to think that soon he could be underneath trees again, however strange they might be.

At the far end of the lake, the gray smudge of trees darkened, and Brambleclaw guessed that they were pines, still green in the depths of leaf-bare. They covered the ground like a gently rippling pelt as the wind stirred them. The flow on the horizon grew too bright to look at as the sun edged up; the last stars were fading, and the sky was a clear, pale blue.

Brambleclaw suddenly realized Ashfur was nowhere to be seen and turned to Squirrelpaw. “Did you have an fight with Ashfur?” he asked her.

Surprise lit her gaze. “I haven’t really talked to him,” she replied.

“That’s strange,” Brambleclaw muttered. “He was glaring at you and Leafpaw last night.”

Spiderpaw groaned. “Yeah, he’s been acting really weird since Larchkit died,” the black tom meowed. “I thought it was because he was grieving, but then he started grumbling about Firestar when the senior warriors weren’t around.”

Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes. “I’ll keep an eye on him. The last thing ThunderClan needs right now is someone stirring up the Clan when we have no deputy.”

Squirrelpaw nodded in agreement. “Time to hunt, though,” she said firmly.

The cats, including Leafpaw, to Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw’s surprise, headed towards the lake. “I can hunt,” the medicine apprentice muttered defensively.

“She can fish too,” Whitepaw added cheerfully.

Before they could respond, Leafpaw stiffened, turning her head slightly. She sniffed the air, then dropped into a crouch. She crept forward silently and pounced, slamming her paws down on something before leaning forward and delivering a quick nip. She back away and turned around, a large mouse in her jaws.

“Nice catch!” Brambleclaw congratulated her.

Squirrelpaw nodded. “That was incredible!”

Leafpaw shrugged. “It’s easy when there’s so much prey around.”

She was right. After only a few minutes, the group had caught two more mice, a pair of voles, a squirrel, a chaffinch, and Spiderpaw had even managed to kill a large rabbit.

“Great job, everyone,” Brambleclaw purred in delight. The others smiled, but Spiderpaw seemed distracted.

Squirrelpaw nudged him. “Is everything all right?” she meowed, clearly concerned.

Spiderpaw didn’t answer at first, sadness clouding his gaze. “I miss Shrewpaw,” he admitted eventually. “He should be here with us.”

Sympathy welled up inside Brambleclaw. Of course the younger tom would miss his littermate. It hadn’t been long since Shrewpaw had been killed by a monster while chasing a pheasant to feed the Clan, and Ferncloud and Dustpelt, his parents, were still grieving him along with Larchkit and Hollykit.

Whitepaw pressed against her friend. “This is the first time you’ve talked about him since the vigil.”

“I wanted to be strong for my parents,” he murmured. “They’ve been suffering so much since my siblings died, and they don’t need another burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” Leafpaw reminded him. “You’re their son, and you lost as much as they did.”

“Maybe more,” Squirrelpaw added sadly. “I know how close you were with Shrewpaw. But it’s okay to be sad, and it’s okay to talk about it. I guarantee Ferncloud and Dustpelt will understand.”

Spiderpaw sat down, digging his claws into a tussock of grass. “He should be here with me!” His words became a whimper, and Whitepaw continued to press against him. “He would have loved it here.”

Brambleclaw laid his tail on Spiderpaw’s back. “I know how it feels to lose siblings,” he told him gently. “Tawnypelt and I were very close with a cat named Snowkit when we were kits. He was almost our age, and we played together all the time. Because he was deaf, he didn’t always play the same way we did, but he could have been a great warrior. Unfortunately, the fire that swept through the camp burned away the protective cover and a hawk took Snowkit. It could have been any of us, and Tawnypelt and I lost our brother that day. And you know that I lost Tawnypelt when she chose to join ShadowClan. These journeys are are the most time I’ve been able to spend with her since we were apprentices.”

Spiderpaw looked up at him. “So what do I do now? What do I have left?”

“You have Birchkit,” Squirrelpaw reminded him. “You still have one brother, who needs you.”

Leafpaw nodded in agreement. “He’s grown very close to Tallpoppy’s kits,” she added. “And he’s too young to understand why he won’t get to see them anymore.”

“Spend time with him,” Squirrelpaw urged. “I think he’ll appreciate it.”

“Don’t be afraid to talk to your parents,” Whitepaw meowed. “They love you, and I’m sure they want you to spend time with them.”

Spiderpaw let out a shaky breath. “You’re right.” He stood up. “Thank you.” Gratitude laced his words.

“And we’re here to talk to if you need it,” Squirrelpaw promised. “You have a whole Clan looking out for you.”

He nodded, grasping the rabbit in his jaws, and headed back towards where the cats were gathered. By this point, many of the cats had woken up and were sharing tongues. The five cats approached a group of elders and queens that included Rushtail and Morningflower of WindClan, Mosspelt and Willowkit of RiverClan, and Boulder of ShadowClan.

“We brought fresh-kill!” Squirrelpaw announced, depositing her mouse in front of Mosspelt.

Boulder purred. “Ah, nothing like a fresh chaffinch in the morning.” He nudged it towards Willowkit. “Care to try some?” he offered.

She squeaked offendedly. “That’s not fish!”

“Hush, Willowkit,” Mosspelt meowed sternly. “These cats were very nice to hunt for us. You’ll eat it without complaining. Now apologize.”

“Yes, Mosspelt,” she muttered. “Sorry, Boulder.”

He flicked her ear gently. “No harm done.”

“You have your paws full with that one,” Rushtail commented in amusement.

Brambleclaw didn’t hear the queen’s reply, as he and the others padded towards Ferncloud and the others, who were still in the den they’d made the night before.

“Nice catch!” Dustpelt called, spotting the rabbit Spiderpaw was carrying.

Spiderpaw dipped his head. “Thanks,” he purred. He hesitated, clearly nervous. Whitepaw nodded at him encouragingly. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” Ferncloud asked. She sat down in front of him.

“Shrewpaw should be here with us,” he meowed. “It isn’t fair; why did he have to die!?”

Dustpelt immediately stepped forward and pressed his muzzle to his son’s. “You’re right. It wasn’t fair that he died. But he was trying to feed his Clan.”

“Why did it have to be him! I’d already lost my sisters. I didn’t need to lose a brother too!” Spiderpaw’s voice broke. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

“You haven’t lost us,” Ferncloud told him quietly. “And you still have Birchkit. He’s missed you.”

Spiderpaw stared at her. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to spend time with him,” he admitted at last. “You were so protective and I didn’t…” he seemed to be searching for the words. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Ferncloud pressed against him. “You’re never a burden, Spiderpaw.”

“I know it’s hard trying to prove your worth while you’re grieving,” Dustpelt said. “My first mentor Redtail was killed before I became a warrior, and I didn’t think I was allowed to mourn him because of my duties.” He purred. “Not to mention Firestar showed up and offset things too.”

Birchkit didn’t seem to notice the emotions of his family. With a complete lack of stealth, he crept forward and leapt onto Spiderpaw’s back. “Grr!” he growled playfully. “I’ve got you now, badger!”

Spiderpaw mewed in pleasure, the grief finally fading from his gaze. “You think so, huh?” he challenged. “I guess we’ll find out.” He stomped around the den, taking exaggerated steps. Birchkit squealed, delight in his voice.

Naturally, this was the moment when Applekit, Marshkit, and Toadkit decided to join in the game as well, tackling Spiderpaw at the same time. The apprentice went down under the weight of the kits. A fifth kit, a small brown-and-white tabby with hazel eyes, stood nearby, watching them with a faint smile on her face. She appeared to be the same age as the others.

“I remember when you and Tawnypelt used to play like that,” Goldenflower remembered with a raspy purr, as Brambleclaw settled down next to her. “She used to get you into trouble.”

“Brambleclaw got us into plenty of trouble on his own,” Tawnypelt meowed, joining them. She gave Goldenflower’s ears a lick. “He was just better at hiding it.”

Goldenflower looked at both of her grown kits. “You’ve both become such incredible warriors,” she told them. “Brambleclaw, you did such a good job with the apprentices before all this trouble, and today as well,” she added. “And, Tawnypelt, I will never be able to apologize enough for everything you went through. I am so proud you’ve managed to find your way in ShadowClan. Both of you are credits to your Clans.”

Brambleclaw purred. Pressing his cheek against hers, while Tawnypelt sat down beside them, for a moment, it almost felt as though things had never changed. The three of them shared a mouse and a vole.

Squirrelpaw came to join them again. By this point, Leafpaw had joined Cinderpelt, and Brambleclaw guessed they were discussing herbs or something.

“Mudclaw’s still representing WindClan,” the ginger she-cat noted.

“I wonder if Tallstar went to join StarClan during the night,” he muttered, his belly clenching with grief at the thought. The WindClan leader was the last of the original leaders from before he had been born. His death would be a massive change.

Squirrelpaw shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she mewed. “Or they would have brought his body out so his Clan could pay their respects.”

Brambleclaw hoped she was right. Before he could say anything else, Firestar leaped onto the tree stump where the leaders had addressed the Clans yesterday. Blackstar jumped up beside him, and Mudclaw scrambled up on the other side. There was barely room for all three cats to stand together on the flat top o the stump, so Leopardstar did not try to join them, but sat on a twisted root at the base.

“We’ll need a new place to hold Gatherings,” Squirrelpaw remarked.

“StarClan will show us the right place,” Goldenflower reminded her.

Firestar yowled, calling all the Clans together. Stems of grass and fern parted, and the branches of bushes shook as the cats emerged from their sleeping places. They all looked thin and worn, easy prey for any hostile creatures the territory might conceal, and they glanced around nervously as if they could feel hungry eyes burning into their pelts on every side. I will protect you until my dying breath.

Brambleclaw bounded down the slope toward the stump, following Squirrelpaw, who was moving as fast as her namesake. Halfway down he spotted Tallstar’s black-and-white shape curled in the grass where he had gone to sleep the night before. The WindClan medicine cat, Barkface, was sitting beside him, sniffing anxiously at his fur. Neither cat made any attempt to join the others gathered around the tree stump; it was obvious Tallstar wasn’t well enough to take part in the meeting.

“Cats of all Clans,” Firestar was announcing as Brambleclaw reached his Clanmates. “Today there are decisions to be made and tasks to be carried out–”

“Hunting patrols will go out right away,” Mudclaw interrupted, shouldering Firestar aside. “WindClan will take the hills and RiverClan can fish in the lake. ThunderClan–”

His Clanmate Onewhisker sprang to his paws with a hiss of anger. “Mudclaw, what are you doing, giving orders like this?” he growled. “The last time I looked, Tallstar was still leader of WindClan.”

“Not for much longer.” Mudclaw’s voice was full of sadness. “He’s dying.”

Brambleclaw blinked in surprise at the deputy’s pronouncement. He looked over at Tallstar, who was still asleep in his grassy nest with Barkface beside him.

“Some cat has to take charge,” Mudclaw went on. “The Clans are about to divide up this territory and I will make sure WindClan is represented.”

Onewhisker glared at Mudclaw, his fur bristling and his eyes blazing with fury. “Show a bit of respect!” he spat. “Tallstar was the leader of our Clan when you were a kit mewling in the nursery.”

“I’m not a kit now,” Mudclaw retorted. “I’m the deputy. And the best way for me to show respect is to lead the Clan in Tallstar’s absence. Do you think I want him to be like this?”

“That’s enough.” Firestar silenced the WindClan deputy with a wave of his tail. “Onewhisker, I know you’re worried about Tallstar, but Mudclaw is only doing his duty.”

“He needn’t act like he’s leader already,” Onewhisker growled. He sat down with a sharp glance from side to side, as if he were challenging any other cat to make a comment.

“Someone has to,” Crowfeather defended his former mentor. “It is his right by StarClan and Tallstar to lead us right now.”

Nightcloud nodded. “This isn’t the time for rash challenges.”

Mudclaw gave his Clanmates a grateful look. “I know it’s difficult for me to stand in for Tallstar when I’m only the deputy. It’s as difficult for me as the rest of the Clan,” he admitted. “I wish StarClan would heal him so he can lead us to our new home.”

“Well said,” Rushtail called.

Blackstar growled. “If WindClan has a problem over their leadership, let them discuss it in private. We’re wasting time.”

Mudclaw let out a resigned sigh. Brambleclaw was surprised at the change in the formerly aggressive warrior, who seemed to have aged seasons in the last few days. He wondered what that would mean for WindClan.

Firestar’s voice interrupted his troubled thoughts. “I would like to start ThunderClan’s life here by honoring a new warrior. Squirrelpaw, where are you?”

Chapter Text

“I would like to start ThunderClan’s life here by honoring a new warrior. Squirrelpaw, where are you?”

Surprise filled Squirrelpaw. “What? Me?” To her embarrassment, her astonishment caused her to squeak like a kit. This couldn’t be right. She was too young. Spiderpaw and Whitepaw were supposed to be the ones getting their names, not her.

Brambleclaw gave her a reassuring nod. “Go on,” he whispered. “You’ve earned this.”

She sprang to her paws, her ears pricked and her tail standing straight up.

“Yes, you.” Amusement gleamed in her father’s eyes as he beckoned to her. “ThunderClan owes you more than I can say for making the journey to the sun-drown-place, and helping lead the Clans to this new home. Dustpelt and I agree that if ever an apprentice deserved her warrior name, you do.”

“Go on,” Brambleclaw said again. He stretched out and gently touched his muzzle against the tip of Squirrelpaw’s ear. “Firestar is right,” he murmured. You deserve to become a warrior after everything you’ve done for the Clan.”

She blinked at him, too shocked to speak, then turned and picked her way to the tree stump where Firestar was waiting. Before she reached it, Sandstorm stepped forward. Squirrelpaw stopped in front of her. Sandstorm’s eyes glowed with pride as she gave her a few swift licks to smooth her fur. Leafpaw came over as well to press her muzzle against her side.

“What about Spiderpaw and Whitepaw?” Squirrelpaw couldn’t help asking. “They’ve been training longer than I have. They deserve their names too.”

She looked over to where Spiderpaw was still covered in kits. Whitepaw was gently nudging Toadkit off of him. “I think I’d prefer to wait until the Clans have a chance to decide on and settle into their territories,” the black tom answered.

“You don’t have to worry about upsetting us,” Whitepaw promised. “You’ve earned this.”

Dustpelt padded up to her. “They are right,” he told her. “Firestar and I did not make this decision lightly.” He led her the rest of the way to the stump and stood beside her as they waited for Firestar to speak.

Firestar leaped down and blinked encouragingly at Squirrelpaw before lifting his head to address the gathered cats. “This is the first time any cat has spoken these words in our new home,” he began. “I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn.”

There was a burning intensity in his eyes. Squirrelpaw turned to meet Brambleclaw’s gaze, and she knew he understood, just as she did, how much this moment meant to Firestar, not just for ThunderClan but for all four Clans that had journeyed her from their home far away. By calling upon StarClan to make a new warrior, they were claiming this unfamiliar place as their own. There had been many, many times on the journey when they had feared they had left their warrior ancestors, and it had seemed Leafpaw was the only one who could communicate with them. But Firestar addressed them now as confidently as if their starry spirits glowed overhead.

“Squirrelpaw,” the ThunderClan leader continued, “do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

She felt her resolve harden. “I do,” she replied clearly.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Squirrelpaw, from this moment you, you will be known as Squirrelflight. StarClan honors your courage and your determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”

Firestar rested his muzzle on Squirrelflight’s head, and she gave his shoulder a respectable lick. Determination was an unusual virtue to mention in the warrior ceremony. Not that I’ve seen that many, she thought wryly. She knew that in herself, it could sometimes show as stubbornness and get her into trouble, like how she’d ended up on the journey to Midnight, or stuck in things…repeatedly.

When she stepped away from Firestar, Leafpaw bounded up to her, greeting her by her new name. “Squirrelflight! Squirrelflight!”

Her call was taken up by the cats around them. Squirrelflight looked around, pride rising up inside her. All four Clans seemed pleased that she had been given her warrior name–but then, they’d all had plenty of time to see and decide if she deserved it. Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, and Crowfeather headed towards her. The loudest voices came from Spiderpaw and Whitepaw, and surprisingly, all of the kits, who seemed to be competing over who could cheer the loudest.

Only one cat hadn’t joined the call–Ashfur. The gray warrior had turned away, his pelt bristling. But he was one of the only cats who was actually happy I was back at first, Squirrelflight thought in confusion.

“Congratulations,” Tawnypelt meowed, cutting off her thoughts, while Crowfeather nodded and rested his tail-tip on her shoulder for a moment…a major sign of affection for him. But then, the cats who had made the journey to Midnight’s cave would always have a special bond. And for just a few seconds, she thought she could feel Feathertail's presence beside her, radiating pride and affection.

Brambleclaw pressed his muzzle to hers, pride and affection in his eyes. “Well done, Squirrelflight,” he murmured. “Mind you,” he added teasingly, “you’ll still have to pay attention to senior warriors.”

Wicked amusement rose to the surface. “Then that means you can’t order me around now–I’m not an apprentice anymore.”

“I can’t see that it will make much difference,” Dustpelt put in with a roll of his eyes, overhearing her. “You never did as you were told anyway.”

Squirrelflight let out a mrrow of laughter and affectionately butted her former mentor on his shoulder. “I must have listened to something,” she meowed. She blinked and added, “Really, thanks for everything, Dustpelt.” He purred and touched her ear with his tail tip.

The meows of welcome died down as Blackstar stepped forward and signaled with his tail for silence. “This is all very touching, but now we must find out about this new place so that we can start establishing our new territories.”

“Honestly, Blackstar, we can wait a little longer so Squirrelflight can enjoy having just become a warrior,” the scrawny brown ShadowClan warrior Nightwhisper noted. “I remember how excited I was when I got my name.”

“He’s right.” The agreement came from Marrowflight, a dark ginger she-cat with amber eyes.

More murmurs of agreement came from several of the gathered cats, though mainly from the youngest warriors.

Blackstar frowned, while Firestar and Leopardstar exchanged surprised looks. Meanwhile, Mudclaw seemed almost amused. “If you must,” Blackstar eventually grumbled ungraciously. He pointedly turned away and began to speak with the other leaders.

“So that’s what happens when all four Clans work together.” The brown-and-white she-kit had left Birchkit and the others and come over to join Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw. “Impressive.”

“It is,” Brambleclaw admitted. “We may enjoy being separate, but we’re stronger together.”

Leafpaw sniffed the kit curiously. “You’re not from ThunderClan, little one. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Spikekit,” she replied, seeming a bit nervous.

“Where’s your mother?” Squirrelflight asked.

Spikekit shrugged. “She wanted me to play with the other kits; I think she’s tired.” She looked at Brambleclaw. “What’s it like being a ThunderClan warrior?”

He shifted his paws. “I’m probably not the right cat to answer that,” he murmured. “I was gone for so long, and my father-”

“It doesn’t matter who your father was!” Spikekit hissed fiercely, just as Squirrelflight opened her mouth to protest. “I don’t care. You aren’t responsible for Tigerstar’s choices. All that matters is what you choose to do.”

“She’s right,” Squirrelflight meowed. That’s very insightful for a kit. “You are not Tigerstar. He tried to destroy the Clans; you saved them!”

“Exactly. Birchkit wants to be you when he gets older. So do the other kits. Well, besides Willowkit and Kestrelkit: they want to be medicine cats,” Spikekit added, apparently as an afterthought.

“She’s right,” Firestar said from behind them. Squirrelflight turned to look at him. “I can’t think of any warrior better for a kit to look up to.”

Brambleclaw ducked his head. “I thought you’d lost faith in me.”

Regret filled Firestar’s eyes. “I was wrong to treat you the way I did–both of you,” he corrected, nodding at Squirrelflight. “I am so sorry I did, and I think it’s time I explained." He opened his mouth to explain.

“For StarClan’s sake, that’s enough celebration,” Blackstar growled from the tree stump. “We’re going to send a patrol with two cats from each Clan to explore the lakeshore and the land around it.”

Firestar sighed. Squirrelflight tensed, while Brambleclaw pricked his ears. Surely Blackstar could have waited just a little longer so Firestar could tell us why he acted the way he did, Squirrelflight though in annoyance. Looking over, she saw Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt exchanging an excited look.

“We decided to send the cats who made first journey together,” Firestar went on. “Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight from ThunderClan, Crowfeather from WindClan, and Tawnypelt from ShadowClan.”

Squirrelflight felt excitement burning deep in her pelt. Her father really did trust her. And it felt right that the cats who had made the first journey should be chosen.

Blackstar curled his lip as Firestar named each cat, but didn’t argue. “And since there is strength in numbers, as I said before, two cats will go from each Clan. Rowanclaw will also represent ShadowClan.”

“Huh! Tawnypelt muttered. “It’s the first time he’s ever let me represent ShadowClan.”

“That’s mouse-brained,” Spikekit purred. “You’ve more than earned it by now.”

Brambleclaw swept his tail soothingly over his sister’s shoulder and met Squirrelflight’s eyes. She could tell he was thinking what she was: Blackstar was unlikely to forget that Tawnypelt had been born in ThunderClan, however hard she tried to prove she was a loyal warrior of ShadowClan.

“Nightcloud will go as WindClan’s second representative,” Mudclaw announced.

“Mistyfoot will go for RiverClan,” meowed Leopardstar, speaking for the first time, and reminding Brambleclaw painfully that neither of the RiverClan cats who had made the journey was still with their Clan. A hollow place yawned inside him as he thought of Feathertail and Stormfur. “As will Mosspelt.”

Yowls of shock and protest rang out among the gathered RiverClan cats. Loudest of all was Blackclaw. “Why should she go?” he demanded. “She’s a queen and might slow down the patrol.”

Squirrelflight felt fury flaming inside her on behalf of the RiverClan queen. She prepared to speak in her defense but immediately realized it wasn’t necessary.

Mosspelt stalked forward to meet Blackclaw’s gaze. “Do you really think a queen can’t manage a patrol, Blackclaw?” she growled. “I’ve been a warrior of RiverClan for my whole life. I’ve fought beside you, hunted with you, and worked as hard as any cat. And I am just as strong as I’ve ever been! I am proud to represent RiverClan and help search for our new camp.” 

“She’s right,” Hawkfrost called from where he was seated. “Queens are the lifeblood of the Clans. They have more strength than any warrior.”

Another round of yowls sounded, this time in support of Mosspelt. She smiled, while Blackclaw narrowed his eyes and dropped back.

Onewhisker called out, “Why should younger warriors like Crowfeather and Squirrelflight be the first ones to see our new home? Some of us have been serving our Clans loyally since before they were born.”

“In the old territory, young warriors sat vigil upon becoming warriors. They also visited the Moonstone, but we obviously can’t do that right now, since we have no proper meeting place with StarClan just yet,” Firestar pointed out. “Exploring around the lake could take the place of that just this once.” Onewhisker nodded, apparently satisfied.

Blackstar glanced at Leopardstar, who twitched her tail, giving nothing away. Squirrelflight guessed she didn’t have a problem with it, having already made a surprising choice in her Clan’s second representative. Mudclaw dipped his head. “WindClan has no objection,” he meowed. “Crowfeather sat vigil in the mountains, but he has still earned this chance.”

With all questions seemingly answered, Firestar stepped forward. “Go all the way around the lake, and explore as much of the surrounding land as you can,” Firestar instructed. “We need to know what kind of territory it is, and where the best hunting places will be. Think about the different sorts of hunting each Clan will require, because it might help with setting boundaries later on. It would be good to get an idea of how the territory could be split up, and where might be good places for camps. And keep a close watch for Twolegs, or anything else that might be dangerous.”

“Is that all?” Crowfeather muttered.

To Squirrelflight’s shock, Spikekit let out a mrrow of laughter. “At least he didn’t tell you to swim across the lake,” the kit joked.

Who is this kit? Squirrelflight wondered.

“I reckon you’ll need two days to travel all the way around the lake,” Firestar went on. He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes as he peered across the water, trying to judge the distance. “Try not to spend too much time exploring. We’re exposed to danger while we stay here, so we need to get all the Clans settled as soon as we can.”

“We’ll do our best, Firestar,” a new voice called out. Squirrelflight looked over her shoulder at the same time as Brambleclaw to see Mistyfoot padding over to join them.

“Hi there,” Brambleclaw mewed, moving up to make room for her. She seemed wary about joining the close band of cats that had made the first journey, staying closer to the other cats on the patrol.

“Good luck,” called Leopardstar, with uncharacteristic warmth in her voice, and Firestar added, “May StarClan go with you all.” Goldenflower stepped forward and gave Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt each a quick lick.

By now the sun had risen well above the hills. Brambleclaw was practically vibrating with anticipation beside her, Squirrelflight realized, and he dipped his head toward Firestar and the other leaders. He raised his tail to signal for the others to follow him. Squirrelflight saw Tawnypelt wince, while Crowfeather let out a hissing intake of breath. She felt his fur prickle with embarrassment. He stopped and took a pace back; Mistyfoot gave him an amused look, then nodded briefly as she took the lead.

“Mousebrain!” Squirrelflight whispered.

They headed for the edge of the lake, with Blackstar’s voice drifting behind them one the breeze as he began to arrange the hunting patrols.

“Squirrelflight! Wait!” Turning her head, she saw her sister bounding after her, Spikekit apparently going back to join Birchkit and the others. “Be careful, won’t you?” Leafpaw begged.

Squirrelflight touched noses with her. “Don’t worry about us,” she meowed. “We can look after ourselves.”

“But you’re as tired as the rest of us from the journey,” Leafpaw warned. “Hunt as soon as you can, and don’t stray too far from the lake or you might get lost.”

Purring, Squirrelflight brushed her tail across Leafpaw’s mouth to stop her. “We’ll be fine,” she insisted. She lifted her head and pointed with her nose to the gleaming stretch of water below them. “Look, you can see exactly where we’re going. We’ll be back before you know it.” She paused for a moment, then added quietly, “Have you had a sign from StarClan? Is that why you’re so worried?”

Leafpaw shook her head. “No, nothing like that, I promise. It’s just hard to let you go again. It feels too much like the first time you left, when you went to the sun-drown-place.” Her voice quivered a bit at the last part.

Brambleclaw went over and rested his muzzle against Leafpaw’s shoulder to comfort her. “And we came safely home, didn’t we? Trust me, Leafpaw, I’ll look after her.”

Squirrelflight jerked away in mock indignation. “I don’t need looking after! It’s more likely to be me watching out for your battered old fur!”

“Unless you get stuck in a bush or a vine again,” Tawnypelt teased, ignoring the sour look Squirrelflight shot her.

Leafpaw gave a purr of amusement, letting them lighten the mood. “Well, just take care, all of you. And if you have a chance to look out for any herbs, that would be great. Our medicine supplies will need refilling very soon.”

Squirrelflight licked her sister’s ear. “Sure. I’ll keep my eyes open–when I’m not looking for foxes, badgers, Twolegs, Thunderpaths…”

“Are we going or not?” Crowfeather growled, though there wasn’t much bite in his words. “We don’t have much daylight, and we need to get at least halfway around the lake before nightfall.”

Leafpaw ignored him. “StarClan go with you,” she murmured to Squirrelflight, before whisking around and bounding back up the slope.

Squirrelflight tasted the air and listened to the lapping of waves on the shore. The gray water was flooded with color as the sun rose higher over the hills. It stretched ahead so far that the trees on the distant shore were nothing more than a greenish blur, and curved hungrily around the marshy land in front of them. Something about the stillness of the water, the silence that hung over it like mist, made it clear that it was much, much deeper than the river in the forest, even when it flooded. Brambleclaw gave Mistyfoot a swift sidelong glance. She looked daunted too, though like all RiverClan cats, she was an excellent swimmer.

As if aware that his eyes were on her, the RiverClan deputy gave herself a shake. “Right,” she meowed, gazing around at the patrol. “This is it. Let’s see where StarClan has brought us.”

Chapter Text

Leafpaw stopped halfway up the slope and turned to watch her sister and the rest of the patrol make their way down to the lake. From the tingling of her own fur, she could tell how excited Squirrelflight was, not just at the prospect of exploring the new territory, but because she was with the friends she had made on the journey to the sun-drown-place once more. For a few heartbeats Leafpaw felt almost breathless with envy, wishing that she could have a bond that strong, based on that depth of trust and that many shared experiences, with another cat.

Her gaze was drawn to the dark shapes of Crowfeather and Nightcloud. Of all the others, Crowfeather was the hardest to understand, but she had gotten to know both WindClan cats during their stay in the mountains. She’d bonded with Crowfeather over their somewhat shared grief of losing Feathertail and Graystripe. Nightcloud had done her best to support Crowfeather and get to know Leafpaw, but it wasn’t easy for any of them.

Crowfeather seemed the least willing to trust cats from another Clan, yet during the long journey through the mountains, she had seen him put himself in danger over and over to help cats who weren’t from WindClan. Leafpaw’s pelt prickled, making her shiver from nose to tail. Something told her the two WindClan cats had an important path laid out by StarClan, but she had no idea where it might lead, nor was there any reason for StarClan to let her know the destiny of cats from another Clan.

She jumped as something brushed against her shoulder, and turned to see Cinderpelt gazing at her with wise blue eyes.

“Do you wish you were going with them?” the medicine cat asked.

Leafpaw hesitated. She was a medicine cat, not a warrior–her duties lay with her weak and exhausted Clan. so why did she feel a tug in her paws to follow the patrol that was padding away along the line of the shore? Her mind flooded with an image of bounding after them.

“Are you all right?” mewed Cinderpelt, looking at her closely.

Leafpaw blinked. “Yes, I’m fine. Of course I don’t want to go with the patrol. There’s enough work for me to do here. But it’s hard to let Squirrelflight go again, even if she’s a full warrior now and can take care of herself.”

“I understand.” Leafpaw blinked in surprise. “It’s difficult to watch the ones we care about take a path we cannot follow,” Cinderpelt continued, sympathy in her gaze. “I have watched my littermates become warriors, and fight in battles I never will.”

“How do you let go?” Leafpaw meowed. “There’s a part of me that wants to stay with her wherever she goes because I’m afraid she’ll get into trouble.”

“It’s certainly possible,” Cinderpelt agreed, which was not comforting. “But sometimes all it takes to ease your worry is to distract yourself. And it’s true what you said before. We have four Clans of exhausted cats to look after, and our stock of healing herbs barely amounts to a couple of leaves and a pawful of crushed berries. Hopefully there will be enough supplies for every Clan.”

Leafpaw gulped, suddenly wondering if she should have gone with the patrol after all to look for new supplies of medicine.

“We’re going to meet with the other medicine cats,” Cinderpelt went on. “We need to discuss what to do about finding new herbs and how we are going to share tongues with our warrior ancestors when we are so far from Highstones.” She gazed up at the sky, where the half moon drifted behind wisps of cloud, and her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I hope we find another Moonstone place soon.”

She gestured with her tail, and Leafpaw saw her friend Mothwing sitting in the shelter of a bramble thicket with Littlecloud, the medicine cat from ShadowClan. Around them, warriors and apprentices from all four Clans were dividing into groups as the hunting patrols prepared to leave.

At the outskirts of one group, Hawkfrost sat watching over Willowkit, Mosspelt’s daughter. Antpaw of WindClan and Smokepaw of ShadowClan were playing with her, and Leafpaw was surprised that the warrior was allowing this. He looked worried, though she wasn’t sure why.

Spikekit bounded over to him, not at all afraid as she began talking. Maybe she’s RiverClan, then, Leafpaw thought when Hawkfrost relaxed and began to converse with her.

Cinderpelt waited until most of the patrols had gone before joining the other medicine cats. Leafpaw bounded over to touch noses with Mothwing.

Mothwing blinked nervously at her. “I feel so helpless!” she murmured into Leafpaw’s ear. “I have no supplies, and the cats are so tired and weak.”

She wasn’t surprised her friend was anxious. Although Mothwing had trained as a warrior and received her warrior name several seasons ago, she had not been a medicine cat for as long as Leafpaw. And since Mudfur had died before they had left the forest, Mothwing had been forced to take on all the responsibilities of a medicine cat alone, while grieving, before she had finished her training. Leafpaw felt a wave of gratitude that Cinderpelt was still alive, and young and strong enough to live for many, many more moons. She was in no hurry to lose her mentor, and she didn’t envy Mothwing at all. But she reminded herself that Mothwing had been taught well, and the medicine cats would all be helping each other anyway.

She gave Mothwing’s ear a quick lick. “You’ll be fine,” she promised. “We’ll all help you.”

Cinderpelt glanced around. “Where’s Barkface?”

“Still with Tallstar, I guess,” Littlecloud replied. He let out a sigh. “I’m not sure there’s much any cat can do for him now.”

Leafpaw flinched. It didn’t seem fair that StarClan should summon the WindClan leader to join them when he hadn’t even seen his Clan’s new home.

“Here he comes now.” Cinderpelt twitched her ears to where Barkface was approaching with his head bowed and his tail trailing.

“How is Tallstar?” Littlecloud demanded.

Barkface heaved a sigh from the depths of his belly as he flopped down under the brambles beside the other medicine cats. “Sleeping,” he replied. “He is very weak. The journey has been too much for him, and it is clear that StarClan is waiting for him to join them.”  The pain in his voice reminded Leafpaw that Barkface was more than just Tallstar’s medicine cat, but his closest friend as well.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Leafpaw meowed.

Barkface shook his head. “We may have traveled all the way from the forest, but Tallstar has a longer journey than all of us ahead of him. He has been a noble leader, but he cannot go on forever.”

“All the Clans will honor him,” Cinderpelt murmured. All of them fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment, bowing their heads. Straightening up, Cinderpelt gave her fur a shake. “Meanwhile, there are tasks that we must do.”

“We need to look for herbs,” Mothwing meowed. “Disease could spread easily when we’re all tired and hungry.”

“True,” replied Cinderpelt. “Soon we’ll go and search, and hope that StarClan leads us to what we need. But before that…” Her voice trailed off, and she scratched at the ground with her forepaw before she went on. “There may be a patrol out looking for new camps for each Clan, but we need more than that if this is going to be our home. Where are the Clans going to gather at full moon? What about the Moonstone? It’s many days’ journey from here to Mothermouth. The patrol will not have time to search for everything.”

Leafpaw’s paws ached at the thought of retracing her steps all along the weary paths they had followed since they left Highstones. Surely it would be impossible to travel there every half moon to meet with StarClan? But where would new leaders go now to receive their names and their nine lives?

There was a long pause. None of the cats had the answer–or knew where to suggest looking.

“Are we sure this is the right place?” Littlecloud meowed at last. “Without the Moonstone, the only way we can reach StarClan is through dreams and signs, and I’ve seen nothing to reassure me that this is where we are supposed to be.”

“It must be right,” Leafpaw pleaded. She struggled to think how she could make the other medicine cats believe her, when they were so much more experienced than she was. “Stoneteller met with his Tribe’s ancestors in the Cave of Pointed Stones,” she added, remembering their stay with the Tribe of Rushing Water. “So maybe there are other places like the Moonstone.”

“I believe that StarClan sent us a sign when we saw their reflections shining in the lake,” Cinderpelt mewed, and Leafpaw felt the fur on her shoulders lie down in her relief. “But we’ll still need a place where we can share tongues with them. Signs can only go so far.”

“Maybe they’ll send us a sign to tell us where we can find another Moonstone,” Barkface suggested.

“Maybe.” Littlecloud sound dubious. “I just hope it’s soon, that’s all.”

“But how do we know we’re looking for a stone?” Mothwing asked. “Couldn’t StarClan communicate with us from another…”

Her voice died away as the other medicine cats stared at her in astonishment. Leafpaw’s eyes widened. What did she mean?

Cinderpelt’s face grew thoughtful. “Go on,” she meowed.

“I know that we had the Moonstone to communicate with StarClan back in the forest, but how do we know that’s what we’ll use here? Before, we had two important stones: the Moonstone and then the Great Rock at Fourtrees for the leaders. StarClan was reflecting out of the lake, so maybe what we need is–”

“A body of water,” Leafpaw finished, amazed.

The other medicine cats stared at them, clearly unsure what to think. “It’s possible,” Barkface decided eventually.

“StarClan works in mysterious ways,” Littlecloud agreed.

Cinderpelt nodded. “We’ll keep that in mind as we search.”

“Unfortunately, we really don’t have time for that now,” Mothwing pointed out. “We really need to start searching for herbs first.”

“I suppose we could start restocking our supplies,” meowed Littlecloud.

Barkface heaved himself to his paws. “If you don’t mind, I ought to stay with Tallstar. But I’d be grateful for some coltsfoot, if you can find it. He’s having some trouble breathing.”

“There’ll be no coltsfoot leaves until newleaf,” Mothwing pointed out anxiously. “Would juniper berries do as well?”

Barkface nodded. “Quite right. Thanks, Mothwing.”

“We’ll bring you some,” Cinderpelt promised. She gave Mothwing an approving nod.

With a brief grunt of thanks, Barkface padded to the clump of grass where Tallstar lay, an unmoving heap of black and white fur. Leafpaw saw him exchange words with Onewhisker, who was keeping vigil beside his dying leader. Then he settled down with his flank touching Tallstar’s, letting his old friend know that he would not be alone as he began his long, dark journey.

Curled up against Tallstar as well was Onewhisker’s son Darkkit. It had been a surprise when Onewhisker had turned up with the kit just before the Clans left Barley and Ravenpaw’s barn. Apparently his mate, a kittypet named Smoke no one had known about, had begged him to take the kit with him, and he had reluctantly agreed. Briarnose had chosen to foster Darkkit, who adored her, though he still missed Smoke. Onewhisker had mostly ignored Darkkit on the journey, along with all of the kits, in favor of helping take care of Tallstar, so his son had taken it upon himself to help as well. This of course wasn’t something Darkkit could do much with, so he had mainly been keeping Tallstar company. It was certainly helping endear him to the rest of his Clan.

“Well done, Mothwing!” Leafpaw congratulated her friend. “I didn’t think of using juniper berries instead.”

Mothwing turned her head to give Leafpaw’s ear a quick lick. “Where shall we go first?”

Cinderpelt stood up swiftly, favoring the leg she had injured long ago on the Thunderpath. “If we go that way,” she began, gesturing with her tail, “we’ll end up in the Twoleg horseplace. I think we should head the opposite way, closer to the lake.”

“Firestar says it’s boggy there,” Leafpaw reminded her.

“There’s all sorts of good stuff growing in bogs,” meowed Mothwing. She gave Leafpaw a gently flick around the ear with her tail. “If you were a RiverClan cat, you wouldn’t mind getting your paws wet!”

“And I wouldn't mind catching a frog or a toad to eat,” mewed Littlecloud. When the other cats stared at him in surprise, he added defensively, “They don’t taste that bad! There were always plenty in ShadowClan’s territory, even when the rest of the prey was scarce.”

Mothwing snorted. “And you think RiverClan is weird because we eat fish,” she muttered, causing Leafpaw to laugh.

As they drew nearer to the lake the tough moorland grass gave way to sedge and moss. The ground was spongy, and water oozed up around Leafpaw’s paws at every step.

“I hope it’s not all like this,” she muttered to herself, pausing to shake droplets of water from each paw. Looking ahead, she saw that although this stretch of marshland reached right down to the lake, trees were growing on the bank farther around, and in the distance, a wooded tongue of land stretched out into the water. That might be a good place for a camp, she thought.

She broke into a run to catch up with the others, and found them standing beside a large clump of horsetail; farther away were more clumps of the big, healthy plants. Leafpaw’s spirits rose. Thank StarClan!

“This is excellent,” Cinderpelt meowed. “It never grew as well as this in our old territory. We’ll collect some on our way back.”

“And I’m sure there cats with infected wounds who will need some,” Leafpaw replied. Better for her to answer before the question was asked.

Littlecloud nodded. “Unfortunately true. The journey has left too many cats with a variety of scrapes and scratches.”

“We must remember where to find it,” Cinderpelt decided.

She set off again, and the other cats followed. Leafpaw was pleased when she was the first to spot a clump of watermint, one of the best cures for bellyache.

“We’re never going to find juniper berries down here,” Mothwing pointed out, leaping over a tiny stream. “It’s much too wet.”

“Why don’t you and Leafpaw head away from the shore?” Cinderpelt suggested. “I can see some bushes over there. Some of them might be juniper.”

“Hopefully.” Mothwing swerved away from the water, heading toward the ridge they had crossed on the previous night. Leafpaw followed close behind, relieved to feel drier harder ground under her paws.

When they reached the higher ground, they pushed their way into a sheltered thicket of trees. Leafpaw quickly recognized the spiky dark leaves and purple berries of juniper bushes among the undergrowth.

“Just what we need,” she mewed happily, beginning to bit off some of the stems.

When they had collected as much juniper as they could carry, they turned back toward the lake. Emerging from the trees, Leafpaw spotted the tiny, indistinct figures of Cinderpelt and Littlecloud in the distance, following the water’s edge. From up here, she realized that what she thought was a wooded spur of land stretching out into the lake was actually an island, separated from the shore by a narrow channel of water.

“Look!” she meowed to Mothwing. “There’s an island in the lake.”

The young medicine cat’s eyes shone. “That would make a great place for a Gathering!” she exclaimed. “It’s big enough for all the Clans, and nothing would disturb us there. Let’s go down and tell the others.” Snatching up her collection of juniper stems, she bounded of toward the other two medicine cats.

Leafpaw picked up her own stems and followed more slowly. Mothwing hadn’t given her the chance to point out that only RiverClan cats felt confident about swimming, and none of the other Clans would be able to reach the island. It was a pity, because Mothwing was right: the island would be a perfect place for the Clans to meet, safe from predators, and more importantly, Twolegs.

When she reached the others, Mothwing was excitedly telling them about the island. All four cats padded down to the edge of the lake to have a closer look. The ground was drier here, falling away into a rocky shore with a few tough thorns rooted in cracks.

“It looks safe enough,” meowed Cinderpelt, “but how would we get there? Do you fancy telling the elders that they have to swim every time they want to go to a Gathering?”

Littlecloud gave a snort of amusement. “Boulder might not mind, but Runningnose’s cold would get worse for a quarter moon afterwards.” Mothwing looked wounded.

“Maybe it’s shallow enough to wade,” Leafpaw suggested diplomatically, though she wasn’t keen on finding out.

Mothwing, however, had no problem with this suggestion. “I could swim over there and have a look,” she offered.

Cinderpelt nodded. “If you want to.”

Needing no more encouragement, Mothwing launched herself down the rocks toward the water.

“Be careful!” Leafpaw called after her.

Her friend waved her tail in acknowledgement before wading out into the lake. Soon the water reached her belly fur and she had to swim, pushing through the water with strong, confident strokes. So it wasn’t possible to wade all the way to the island, Leafpaw thought. She narrowed her eyes against the sunlight reflected in the water as she tracked the small dark head bobbing through the waves.

Behind her Littlecloud meowed, “Why don’t we hunt while we’re waiting? I’m so hungry I could eat a badger!”

His words made Leafpaw conscious of her own grumbling belly, but she did not move until she had seen Mothwing reach the shore of the island; she pulled herself out of the water and waved her tail cheerfully at Leafpaw before vanishing among the bushes. Clearly she’d missed swimming.

Leafpaw turned away just in time to see Littlecloud pounce on a vole and crouch down to devour it in swift bites. She couldn’t help feeling relieved that he hadn’t found a frog or a toad after all, in case he offered her some. It would have been rude to say no, but Leafpaw didn’t think she was quite hungry enough to eat something that looked so unappetizing. He clearly saw her relief, as he rolled his eyes.

A little way off, Cinderpelt was stalking something in the long grass that grew at the foot of the rocks. A heartbeat later she made her kill and beckoned to Leafpaw with her tail. “Come on. Mothwing will be fine. There’s plenty of prey over there.”

She cast another glance back at the island, but there was no sign of her friend, and nothing she could do to help her. Padding softly up to the nearest tumble of rocks, she heard the scuffling of a tiny creature and froze. A grass stem twitched aside to reveal another vole scrabbling among the fallen seeds underneath. Leafpaw crept forward, hardly lifting her paws from the rough ground. Once she was in range, she leaped and dispatched her prey with one swift bite to the neck.

Leafpaw couldn’t remember when she had last seen such a plump vole. The prey that remained in the forest after the Twolegs started to tear it up had been scrawny and terrified, and opportunities for hunting on the journey head had been limited.

She was just finishing the last, satisfying bite when Littlecloud called, “Mothwing’s coming back!”

Leafpaw swallowed her mouthful and dashed down to the water’s edge. Mothwing was swimming strongly toward the shore, and soon she waded out to stand on dry ground and shake the water from her pelt.

“Well?” Cinderpelt demanded. “What did you find?”

Mothwing left out a gusty sigh, clearly pleased. “It’s perfect! Trees and bushes grow all around the edge, but in the middle there’s an open stretch of grass. There’d be room for all the Clans to gather there.”

Littlecloud shook his head. “RiverClan maybe, but you’d never get the other three Clans to join you.” His tone was worried as he added, “Some cats with more courage than sense would drown if they tried.”

“And right in the middle of the open space,” Mothwing went on enthusiastically, as if Littlecloud hadn’t spoken, “there’s this huge oak tree. As big as the oaks at Fourtrees, but it has low-growing branches, so the leaders could climb up there to address the Clans.” Her amber eyes shone. “I wish we could use it!”

“Well, we can’t,” Cinderpelt said regretfully. “Although you’re right, Mothwing; it sounds ideal. Thanks for checking it out.”

“There’s prey too.” Mothwing swiped her tongue over her jaws.

Leafpaw wanted to ask Mothwing if she had noticed anything unusual about the island, like a strange-shaped rock or a twisted tree, anything that would suggest the presence of StarClan. Perhaps the island wasn’t meant for Gatherings, but they still might be able to use it.

Littlecloud sighed. “The only way we’d be able to use the island is if StarClan themselves helped us.”

The sun flashed unexpectedly and Leafpaw stared up at it. It flared so brightly that she couldn’t see for a moment. Spots danced across her eyes and then a shadow fell past her vision in front of the island.

How can a cat cross a lake without ever touching the water? a painfully familiar voice breathed in her ear. Feathertail? she wondered, feeling the lost RiverClan warrior’s presence beside her. StarClan is still with you. You will find everything you need in this place.

“Leafpaw?” Cinderpelt was calling her name, worry in her voice. “Leafpaw, are you all right?”

Blinking, she looked at her mentor, who was staring at her. Mothwing was pressed against her flank, while Littlecloud seemed like he was looking for something no one else could see. 

She turned her head, looking towards the island. It was the same as it had been before. Whatever shadow she’d seen was gone. “How can a cat cross a lake without ever touching the water?” she whispered.

“Leafpaw, what happened?” This time it was Mothwing who spoke.

“I think I had a vision.” With the words out of her mouth, she recognized the truth in what she’d said. “The sun flashed as brightly as the Moonstone and a shadow fell in front of the island. Then Feathertail came to me and said, ‘How can a cat cross a lake without ever touching the water?’”

“A bridge!” Mothwing exclaimed.

The two older medicine cats looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean, bridge?” Littlecloud asked.

“Back in RiverClan’s old territory, there was a twoleg bridge we used to get back from Gatherings,” Mothwing explained. “Mistyfoot even said Crookedstar had let ThunderClan use it to get home after a Gathering one time when the other Clans wouldn’t let them through their territory. I think there was a flood or something.”

“I remember that,” Cinderpelt admitted. “I didn’t go to that Gathering, but Firestar talked about it.”

“That was not one of my Clan’s finer moments,” Littlecloud muttered.

Mothwing shook her head. “Anyway, what if we could somehow make a bridge to get to the island? That would be perfect.”

Leafpaw smiled. “Or maybe StarClan will make us a bridge instead. Feathertail also said that StarClan’s with us and we’ll find what we need here. Maybe we’re supposed to trust them.”

Cinderpelt nodded. “We’ve trusted them to bring us this far. We might as well take a chance on this.” She pressed her muzzle against Leafpaw’s. “Well done.”

Leafpaw shivered. The Clans need a place to gather and a new place to communicate with StarClan. But if their ancestors hadn’t abandoned them, then maybe their future in this new territory wasn’t filled with shadows of doubt.

Chapter Text

It shouldn’t have taken a journey and separation from everything he’d ever known for Hawkfrost to feel safe. But ironically, their ancestors’ inability to contact them ended up being the best thing that could have happened to Hawkfrost.

Just a couple seasons ago, the night after his first Gathering as a warrior, Hawkfrost had curled up in his nest, happily feeling the warmth of his sister and the other warriors around him, before falling asleep. He’d opened his eyes a moment later, and to his horror, a face nearly identical to his own, had greeted him.

“Welcome, my son,” Tigerstar had purred smoothly. “I have been watching you.”

Hawkfrost hadn’t been sure what to say. He’d never wanted to meet this cat. Despite what his mother had told him, he knew what a monster Tigerstar had been, and likely still was. “This isn’t StarClan,” he’d guessed, looking around to see slimy moss and rotting trees. Above him, the sky was dark, with no sign of starlight to be found.

Tigerstar had narrowed his eyes. “Why would I join StarClan?” he’d asked calmly. “They’re weak and foolish. This is the Dark Forest, where the warriors with courage and ambition can rule as they please.”

It hadn’t escaped Hawkfrost that there were no other cats in sight, and mist closed in around the two of them, as if to intentionally keep them separated from others. Cats did not come here to rule, but to suffer alone. “What do you want with me?” Hawkfrost had wondered.

“I’d have thought was obvious,” Tigerstar had purred. “I want to train you. I can make you stronger than any other warrior, help you become leader of your Clan. Don’t you want that?”

He’d wanted it once. Hawkfrost had been trained by the leader of his Clan. But he wanted to earn it fairly. Staring into Tigerstar’s burning eyes, he realized that the training he was being offered wasn’t a choice. If he rejected this, his father would kill him, here and now. 

“Very well,” Hawkfrost had agreed. “I accept.”

Thus had come moons of brutal training. Tigerstar didn’t hold back when he fought, and Hawkfrost had taken some severe injuries. Thankfully, he’d healed from them whenever he woke up in his nest, but he still felt the pain.

And then Tigerstar had brought him to watch as StarClan left a moth’s wing outside Mudfur’s den, the sign his sister needed to become a medicine cat. With a sinking feeling, he had watched as Tigerstar had pressed one claw to the wing, piercing it through.

Tigerstar had ordered him to take responsibility for the sign, to tell Mothwing he’d been the one to leave it there. It would shatter her faith in StarClan, leave RiverClan cut off from their ancestors, and essentially tie Mothwing to Hawkfrost in order to stay medicine cat. If he didn't tell her, Tigerstar would kill her instead, which would still leave RiverClan vulnerable if Mudfur died.

Her face had crumpled when he’d told her. The joyful gleam in her eyes had darkened. Faith had turned complete disbelief and betrayal. And something between them broke. Hawkfrost wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to fix it.

Then Twolegs had begun to destroy the forest, and Tigerstar had been thrilled. When Firestar’s daughter Leafpaw had begun venturing into RiverClan territory to fish, Hawkfrost had always known she was there. Tigerstar, who had spent every waking moment stalking Hawkfrost in the waking world as well, invisible to most cats, thankfully had never known her scent. Whenever Mothwing covered for Leafpaw, he’d been able to pass it off as a misunderstanding.

Tigerstar was still not satisfied, and he’d ordered Hawkfrost to proclaim his ambitions to his sister and her hidden friend. When Sorreltail had accidentally crossed the border, Mothwing’s impressive bluffing had been enough to convince their father Hawkfrost could let the ThunderClan warrior return to her territory.

The worst part had been when Mistyfoot had gone missing and Hawkfrost had been made deputy in her place. All the ambition he’d ever felt had come to the surface, and it was something he never wanted to feel again.

He’d finally been released when Twolegs had overturned the Great Rock. The disruption of something so pivotal to the Clans’ connection to their ancestors, second only to the Moonstone, had weakened Tigerstar’s power. He’d only seen him once since then, a faint, flickering dream in the Dark Forest, before finally receiving a much-needed dreamless sleep.

Now that the Clans had reached their new home, Hawkfrost worried that it was only a matter of time before Tigerstar began to communicate with him again. He was taking every opportunity he could to get to know the members of the other Clans as cats, not as rivals and enemies. This mostly worked with the apprentices and kits, since the warriors still struggled to forget everything they’d known. His half brother and sister seemed to want nothing to do with him. And Ivytail, his mate, the cat he was closest to in the Clan at the moment was currently discussing fishing methods with Sorreltail of all cats. There was no way he could risk going over there.

Willowkit’s excited purr drew him out of his musings. The kit squealed happily as Smokepaw’s back as she dug her tiny claws in. He stomped around dramatically, and Antpaw decided to make the game more complicated by pretending to stalk him.

“Why are you so worried?” Spikekit meowed, appearing out of nowhere.

Hawkfrost glanced at her. “This is a strange place,” he replied, avoiding the real problem. He couldn’t exactly tell a kit what he was dealing with. “Who knows what we might find out there?”

A mischievous look crossed her face. “Water?” she joked.

“Funny,” he said. Sniffing her, he tried yet again to determine her scent. The kit wasn’t RiverClan. In fact, she smelled like none of the Clans and all of them at the same time. He had no idea where she’d come from, since she’d just appeared once the Clans started their journey. “I was referring to dangers…like foxes and twolegs.”

She tilted her head quizzically. “Surely StarClan wouldn’t have led us somewhere unsafe. They would have chosen somewhere the Clans could thrive, somewhere that would work for everyone.”

“You’re very insightful for a kit.”

“I’ve heard that a lot.”

He finally allowed himself to relax. “Well, I suppose you’re right. StarClan wants what’s best for us.”

Just then, Leopardstar padded over. “The Clans are arranging patrols,” she told him, giving Spikekit a suspicious look. “Firestar suggested you lead one, since you’ve had some experience as deputy, and for once I agree with him.”

He nodded. “Did you have anyone else in mind?”

“Duskfur and Rainpaw, Ashfur of ThunderClan, Nightwhisper and Snowpaw of ShadowClan, and Leaftail of WindClan,” she replied. “With seven cats, you should manage. And StarClan knows why I’m saying this, but I suppose Smokepaw and Ashpaw can handle watching Willowkit for now.”

The cats she had named came to join him. Leopardstar walked away, apparently trusting him to manage on his own.

It was still strange working with cats from other Clans. Rainpaw, one of the friendliest cats in RiverClan, immediately butted his head against Hawkfrost’s flank, causing Duskfur to flick her tail at him. Leaftail gave Hawkfrost a friendly nod, and Nightwhisper scanned him for a moment. Ashfur, meanwhile, gave him a glare and pointedly turned away.

“Who put crowfood in his freshkill?” Snowpaw muttered. Nightwhisper shook his head at her sternly.

The patrol headed towards the lake. Remembering who he was with, Hawkfrost led them towards an area that looked a bit drier.

Something moved nearby and he dropped into a crouch. Sniffing carefully, he detected the scent of mouse. Creeping forward, he spotted the mouse, hidden behind a patch of taller grass. He checked to make sure the mouse hadn’t noticed him, then sprang, landing squarely on the mouse. He killed it quickly with a single bite, then picked it up in his jaws.

“Nice catch!” Nightwhisper called. The others didn’t speak, though Rainpaw purred.

Ashfur meanwhile glared at him even more. Before he could ask the ThunderClan warrior what was going on, Ashfur turned and began hissing something about Firestar.

For a moment, everyone looked at each other. Then Leaftail rolled his eyes. “Well, at least you know how to catch something besides fish,” he teased. The joke seemed to ease some of the tension.

“Fish are awesome!” Rainpaw protested.

“Frogs are better,” Snowpaw argued.

Hawkfrost snorted. “No cat should ever enjoy frogs. They’re slimy and disgusting and cold.”

“That’s not true,” Nightwhisper retorted. “I can’t exactly describe how they taste, but it’s delicious.”

Leaftail shrugged. “Pretty sure most cats don’t like either of them.”

“But fish taste like freedom and the unknown,” Hawkfrost meowed. “There’s nothing like chasing a carp in the deepest parts of the river.”

“Just imagine what it will be like catching fish in the lake!” Rainpaw exclaimed.

Snowpaw glanced at him. “I wonder if there are places with fish and frogs in the lake.”

“Every cat is allowed to enjoy whatever prey they can find in their territory,” Duskfur put in. “Whether that be fish, or if you must, frogs.”

This drew laughter from everyone except Ashfur, who let out a fierce hiss. They stared at him, confused.

“What is the matter with him?” Rainpaw whispered.

Unfortunately, Ashfur’s mood affected the rest of the patrol. They lapsed into silence, hunting quickly and efficiently. Hawkfrost caught another mouse and a vole, then headed towards a small pool for a drink. Looking towards the lake, he saw Mothwing swimming towards the other medicine cats. Briefly, he wondered what she’d been doing.

Meeting up with the rest of the patrol, except for Ashfur who’d gone back ahead of them, he picked up the first mouse he’d caught and beckoned the others to follow him back to where the Clans were.

Spikekit was being her naturally confident self, discussing something with Ashfur. “You shouldn’t treat your Clanmates like that,” she was saying when Hawkfrost came into earshot.

To his surprise, Ashfur drew back his lips and snarled at the kit. “My Clan is my business!” he growled.

“That’s enough!” Hawkfrost hissed, coming up to stand next to Spikekit, who apparently wasn’t scared of the gray warrior. “Warriors do not treat kits like that!”

“She’s an outsider,” Ashfur muttered. “Or at the very least, she’s not in ThunderClan.”

Hawkfrost fought the urge to slash his claws against the other warrior’s ears. “But she’s still a kit. The Warrior Code says to protect them, not threaten them.”

Ashfur didn’t seem to have the same restraint. He raised his forepaw, claws glinting in the sunlight.

“Ferncloud, help!” Birchkit’s nervous voice sounded nearby, and Hawkfrost saw the kit standing a few tail-lengths away, watching them.

Ferncloud came over immediately. “Ashfur, what do you think you’re doing? This is not the time for warriors to be fighting each other.”

“He’s just mad that Hawkfrost wouldn’t let him snarl at me for telling him he should have cheered at Squirrelflight’s ceremony,” Spikekit announced.

“You snarled at a kit?” Ferncloud sounded incredulous. “And you didn’t cheer at Squirrelflight’s ceremony? That’s not how Clanmates act.”

Ashfur growled again, but turned and stalked away. His tail lashed furiously, and his ears flicked so rapidly, Hawkfrost felt a bit worried.

“Thank you for the help,” Spikekit said, dipping her head to him as well as Ferncloud. “He was really getting on my nerves.”

“Mine too,” Hawkfrost admitted. “And like you said, now is not the time for fighting.”

The queen gave him an understanding look. “Ashfur has been angry since I lost my kits. Unfortunately, he hasn’t had a chance to work things out yet. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually; he’s a good cat at heart.”

“Can I go play with Tallpoppy’s kits?” Birchkit mewed.

Ferncloud snorted. “Well, I suppose,” she agreed. He dashed off towards his friends, knocking a clump dirt into Toadkit’s side in the process.

“Hey, Hawkfrost, come tell about how you chased off that dog!” The call came from the WindClan warrior Snowflight, a white tom with strangely gray eyes.

Hawkfrost glanced at Ferncloud, who gave him an amused nod. “Go,” she agreed. “The cats who went on the first quest are not the only heroes the Clans have. You might as well share your victories with the younger warriors.”

He purred and quickly joined the group which, in addition to Snowflight, included Snowflight’s sister Hailpelt, Nightwing of ShadowClan, Rainwhisker and Sootfur, and Reedwhisker. They shifted to make room for him, eyes fixed on him as he began the story.

“It all began after we’d crossed the large Thunderpath beyond the forest…”

Chapter Text

Mistyfoot led the patrol across the marshy shore at a steady trot. Brambleclaw took a deep breath, and Tawnypelt did the same, tasting the prey-scented air and basking in the warmth of the pale leaf-bare sun on her fur. Beside her, Brambleclaw was walking tensely, clearly forcing himself to stay at the pace Mistyfoot had set, a wise decision, since there was a long way to go. She felt a pang of sympathy for her brother, who had grown used to leading, or at least trying to lead their small group on their quest to find Midnight.

“This is no good,” Squirrelflight grumbled as she slipped into yet another boggy hollow. She stopped and flicked water from her hind paw with a disgusted expression on her face. “We’ll all end up with webbed feet if we live here.”

“Definitely reminds me of Carrionplace after a storm,” Rowanclaw added. His fur was ruffled with annoyance.

“It might not be so bad for RiverClan,” Mistyfoot replied. “But there won’t be much prey on ground like this, so it wouldn’t be much use.”

“We don’t have to use all the territory around the lake,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “There’s plenty of space, so it doesn’t matter if no cat wants this bit.”

Mosspelt nodded. “And there’s more land here than there was in the old forest. The Clans don’t need something they won’t use.”

“As long as there’s something better up ahead,” Crowfeather added.

They stopped to scan the land around them. On one side the land rose steeply to a ridge of hills. The Twoleg fence and the horses were behind them now, and beyond that the grassland sloped up until it vanished beneath a thick growth of gorse and other bushes. Ahead, the swampy ground stretched along the lakeshore. In the distance, Tawnypelt could see a wooded spur of ground jutting out into the lake, and more trees right ahead.

“It looks as if we’ll be out of the marshes soon,” Brambleclaw meowed.

“Can’t we climb the hill, Brambleclaw?” Squirrelflight asked. “Please. I’m sick of wet paws.”

“There’ll be prey up there, too,” Tawnypelt mewed longingly. “What do you say? We need to hunt.”

Rowanclaw nudged her slightly. She glanced at him and he jerked his head towards Mistyfoot. Remember who’s leading the patrol, his eyes seemed to say.

Brambleclaw hadn’t noticed the exchange. “We’re supposed to be patrolling the lake,” he replied.

“And the territory around it,” Crowfeather reminded him.

“I suppose we could make a few forays away from the lake,” Brambleclaw meowed thoughtfully. “We won’t learn much if we stick to the shore the whole time. Let’s start by heading up to the ridge. We’ll hunt on the way, and–”

A quiet cough interrupted him and his fur prickled. Tawnypelt saw Mistyfoot give him a level stare, while Mosspelt and Nightcloud both let out purrs of laughter. “S-sorry, Mistyfoot,” he stammered. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

Amusement glimmered in Mistyfoot’s eyes. “Look, Brambleclaw, maybe it’s best if you lead. Half these cats are obviously used to taking orders from you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Brambleclaw replied, sounding embarrassed. “We discussed things, mostly, when we were on our journey.”

“He means we argued,” Tawnypelt meowed dryly. “At least, some of us argued.” She gave a pointed look at the youngest two members of the group.

“What, us?” Squirrelflight’s eyes opened wide in feigned innocence and her tail curled up. “Never!”

Brambleclaw appeared to be suppressing a laugh.

Mosspelt didn’t even try. “You young cats did what came naturally,” she noted. “Without a given leader, you figured things out on your own.”

Mistyfoot stepped aside and let Brambleclaw lead the way up the slope to drier ground. It was a relief that the other cats understood that they had fallen into a habit of organizing themselves on their quest. And now, it felt good to be traveling with friends again, this time with the added bonus of Rowanclaw. While Stormfur and Feathertail’s absence felt like claws raking her pelt, at least the rest of them had finished what they’d started. And there was no way of knowing what things would be like when the Clans separated and they couldn’t follow the same paths anymore. At least she had Rowanclaw, who had always trusted her even when ShadowClan hadn’t, and Crowfeather had Nightcloud, and Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight had each other. None of them would be alone.

There was prey among the bushes farther up the slope, and it did not take long for all eight cats to hunt successfully and settle down to a good meal.

“Mmm…” Squirrelflight murmured, lying on her side and splaying out her paws in a luxurious stretch. “That was the tastiest mouse I’ve tasted in moons. It’s nice to know that our hunting earlier wasn’t a onetime thing. Now I could do with a good, long sleep.”

“Oh no, you don’t!” Brambleclaw prodded her with his paw. “We’ve got a long way to go, and we need to get as far around the lake as we can in daylight.”

“All right, keep your fur on.” Squirrelflight scrambled up, her green eyes teasing. “You’re such a bossy old furball. Don’t forget I’m a warrior now!” She whisked around him, flicking him with her tail.

“You don’t give me the chance to forget,” Brambleclaw retorted, laughter in his voice.

Tawnypelt purred. It was good to see her friends enjoying themselves. “Honestly, you two,” Mosspelt teased. “Any cat would think you’re still kits.”

Nightcloud smirked. “Are they not?”

Brambleclaw ignored her and gathered the others together–Mistyfoot was watching him without saying anything, the expression in her eyes impossible to read–and they set off once more, taking a slanting route down to the lake. Looking back at the temporary camp, Tawnypelt realized there was a small island near the shore; three tiny, fuzzy shapes were standing on the bank looking out at it.

“There’s Leafpaw!” Squirrelflight meowed.

Tawnypelt exchanged a glance with Brambleclaw. How could Squirrelflight recognize her sister from so far away? He shook his head slowly, and Tawnypelt wondered if it was some kind of special connection the two she-cats shared. They were lucky to have each other, especially in the same Clan. But Tawnypelt had made her choice seasons ago, and she wasn’t going to change her mind.

They headed down from the ridge toward a point on the lakeshore farther away from the island. To her relief, the marshy places and small reed-fringed pools thinned out; instead the ground was covered with long grass that felt cool and comfortable under her paws. ShadowClan may be used to wet ground, but that didn’t mean they enjoyed it.

“This is more like it!” muttered Crowfeather. Of course, Tawnypelt thought. WindClan cats were the least used to wet ground, since the moorland they’d lived on before had been elevated and sandy, draining well. It was likely one of the reasons they’d suffered the most from the drought that had hit the Clans before the Twolegs did.

Sunhigh came and went as the eight cats traveled along the edge of the lake. A stretch of smooth round pebbles ran down to the water, reminding Tawnypelt of the banks of the river in the forest. From the looks on their faces, the RiverClan cats felt the same way. A little way from the shore, spreading ripples indicated that a fish had just risen.

“Plenty of prey for RiverClan,” Brambleclaw pointed out to Mistyfoot.

She nodded. “Mind you,” she meowed, “we might need to work out new ways of fishing. We’re used to standing on the bank or on stepping stones and scooping them out with our paws. What would we do if all the fish went to hide in the middle of the lake?”

There was an amused snort from Squirrelflight, but it quickly stopped at Brambleclaw’s glare. Mistyfoot hadn’t been joking–her Clan could starve next to a lake full of prey if they didn’t have the right hunting techniques. He narrowed his eyes and stared across the lake. Tawnypelt could guess what he was thinking, since she was too. The forests she could see appeared to be similar to those of ThunderClan and ShadowClan territory back home. Surely hunting would be the same, or maybe better, than it had been back in the forest?

Mosspelt was eyeing the lake thoughtfully. “We could always try to construct some kind of barriers to keep the fish closer to the shore,” she suggested. “And Leopardstar and the older warriors know how to chase fish underwater.”

“Hawkfrost does too,” Mistyfoot agreed. “Leopardstar taught him the technique. I think he enjoys the thrill of testing how long he can hold his breath. Frankly, it’s incredible that he’s even willing to go in the water after he nearly drowned as a kit, twice. The first time, his littermate Tadpole did drown.”

Tawnypelt saw a look of longing fill her brother’s eyes. “What’s he like?” Brambleclaw asked. “I’ve heard about Mothwing from Leafpaw and Cinderpelt, but I barely know anything about my brother.” Brother. The word filled Tawnypelt with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify.

Mosspelt purred. “He’s fiercely loyal to the Clan. He tends to bring back more prey than the other warriors, and he’ll even take patrols alone if he thinks it’s necessary. And because of his parentage, he seems to put extra pressure on himself, as does Mothwing.”

“He’s definitely reckless,” Mistyfoot added. “But it’s gotten worse since Feathertail failed to come back from the mountains. He and his sister were really close with her when they were younger, especially after Sasha left them.”

“I met him at a Gathering once,” Rowanclaw said. “Any cat could tell that he would do anything to help RiverClan. And he was very protective of the younger cats during the journey.”

Brambleclaw sighed. “I should have tried to get to know him better during the journey. Of all cats, I know how it feels to have barely any family in my Clan and to have the suspicions of others because of our father.”

“Hawkfrost is not Tigerstar,” Mosspelt said immediately. “But now that the Clans know the truth, he’ll need more support than ever.”

Tawnypelt spoke up for the first time. “If he ever wants to talk, at Gatherings anyway, I’m more than willing. Siblings watch out for each other.” She sighed when Squirrelflight gave her a surprised look.

“And I’m here too,” Brambleclaw agreed.

The group fell into a comfortable silence after this and continued on.

The pebbles beneath their paws grew larger and more slippery, and they slowed down to pick their way carefully, without getting their feet trapped between the stones. The lake bulged into the land ahead of them, and Brambleclaw stopped so they could look at the opposite shore. Pine trees surrounded a grassy area at the edge of the water, where a wooden structure stuck out into the lake. It looked a bit like the Twoleg bridge in the old territory, but it didn’t seem to lead anywhere.

“What’s that?” Brambleclaw asked, signalling with his tail.

“Some Twoleg thing,” Crowfeather replied disdainfully.

“I hope that doesn’t mean Twolegs swarming all over the place,” meowed Tawnypelt.

Nightcloud shrugged. “If they stick to the lake, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Unless they decide the lake isn’t enough,” Rowanclaw muttered.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Mistyfoot assured them. “I can’t see any Twolegs there now. Maybe they only come in greenleaf, like they used to in our old territory. Their kits like to play in the water.”

“So they’re RiverClan, but taller and with less fur,” Rowanclaw joked.

Crowfeather sniffed. “I always thought Twolegs were mousebrained.”

“Are you saying RiverClan cats are mousebrained?” Mosspelt challenged.

He shrugged. “Some of them can be.” At Mosspelt’s narrowed eyes, he added, “Obviously not you. Any cat who manages to put up with a litter of kits has more patience and sense than most cats.” 

His voice was sincere. Tawnypelt remembered how close he was with his mother Ashfoot, especially since the recent death of his father Deadfoot. It was something he’d mentioned soon before they’d returned to their Clans.

Squirrelflight was staring across at the bridge thing, her jaws parted to drink in any scent carried on the breeze. “I can’t smell anything but forest scents and prey,” she reported at last.

“We’re too far away to pick up all the scent trails,” Brambleclaw meowed. “We’ll check it out when we get over there. That’s definitely something the Clans will want to know more about. But Mistyfoot’s right that there aren’t any Twolegs around now.” 

He signaled for the patrol to move on again. They walked in silence, as if the Twoleg halfbridge had reminded them of their old enemies, and made them warier. Tawnypelt bristled and felt the urge to growl.

Rowanclaw pressed against her, his warm fur instantly calming her. “Everything’s going to be all right,” he whispered in her ear. “StarClan wouldn’t have brought somewhere Twolegs would be dangerous.”

“I know,” she sighed. She knew it would take a long time for her fear to fade.

Before long, there was another sound above the gentle lapping of waves on the shore: the gurgle of running water. The ground underpaw grew wetter, and just ahead she could see a thick line of reeds winding away from the lake.

“A stream!” Mistyfoot exclaimed, bounding forward with Mosspelt at her side. The excitement was clear in both of the RiverClan cats.

The rest of the patrol picked up their pace until they joined them on the bank. Brambleclaw pushed through the reeds, and ahead of him, Tawnypelt saw that the stream flowed out of the lake; it was wider than the streams they had crossed previously, too broad to jump across, with deep channels curving around pebbly shallows and small stony islands. The water looked green and cool, shaded by reeds and the occasional tree that grew out along the banks. Clumps of brown, dry bracken all around promised more lush vegetation in greenleaf.

Mistyfoot looked around, the tip of her tail twitching. “RiverClan would love a place like this.”

Mosspelt nodded eagerly, slipping into the stream and diving under the water, appearing a moment later with a silver fish in her jaws. At the others’ surprised looks, she shrugged. “Didn’t say Hawkfrost was the only one who likes it underwater.”

It hadn’t escaped Tawnypelt’s notice that Mistyfoot hadn’t made an instant claim to this territory on behalf of her Clan, but there was longing in her eyes as she surveyed the stream. This would definitely be a good place for RiverClan, but it wasn’t the patrol’s decision to make. Their duty was to report back to the rest of the cats when they had explored the land around the lake, and the leaders would decide how to divide it up, or at least, a rough division.

“Hey!” Squirrelflight mewed. “I just saw another fish.”

A heartbeat later, it surfaced with a silver flash that sent ripples spiraling out.

“Perfect!” Mistyfoot exclaimed. “Shall I catch some for us?”

“You’re welcome to share this one as well,” Mosspelt offered.

“We know how to catch our own, you know,” Tawnypelt said politely, but ensuring the edge remained in her tone.

Mistyfoot gave her a curious look. “Where did you you learn that?”

“On our journey,” Crowfeather meowed abruptly. “Feathertail taught us.” Grief filled his voice. He turned away and stalked a few paces downstream, where he sat close to the water, staring into the depths with one paw raised, ready to strike. Nightcloud pressed against him in silent comfort.

Tawnypelt felt an aching sympathy for him. She’d felt a deep sense of loss when she’d left ThunderClan, unable to stay with them after they’d continuously compared her to her father.

None of them would ever forget the brave and gentle RiverClan cat who had done so much to help Crowfeather feel at ease in the group, and in the end had given her life to save him from Sharptooth. Tawnypelt wondered for a moment if his pain would ever be healed. Sometimes he seemed as prickly and self-contained as he had been at the start of their journey, before he had learned to trust his companions, and before he had fallen in love with Feathertail. But now, seeing how he relaxed against Nightcloud’s flank, his face softening, perhaps he would find happiness after all.

Mistyfoot gave a sympathetic murmur, grief in her eyes; she’d been Feathertail’s mentor. But the RiverClan deputy didn’t attempt to join Crowfeather. She didn’t need to comfort him; Nightcloud was there for him, and he wouldn’t welcome an intrusion by a cat he barely knew. Instead, she crouched down where she was to wait for a fish. Tawnypelt and Squirrelflight joined her, but Brambleclaw stayed close to the reeds with Rowanclaw, clearly keeping watch. They still didn’t know what this new territory might conceal, and if most of the cats were intent on hunting, they would be easy prey for a hungry fox.

By the time they’d hooked fish out of the river, there had been no sounds to disturb them.

“Aren’t you hungry, Brambleclaw?” Squirrelflight asked, padding up to him and setting down the plump silver fish she carried in her jaws. “Or have you forgotten how to fish?”

“I was keeping watch,” he protested, breaking off when he realized she was teasing. 

“Mousebrain,” she purred, patting the fish toward him with one forepaw. “I knew exactly what you were doing, and I caught enough for both of us. “Come and share.”

Tawnypelt settled down next Rowanclaw, setting her catch in front of the two of them. She shot Brambleclaw a look from narrowed eyes as he sat beside Squirrelflight. “You seem pretty close,” she remarked quietly. “No need to ask StarClan what your future holds!”

He squirmed in embarrassment, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of other cats gossiping about who he chose to spend time with. And he couldn't exactly tease her about her relationship with Rowanclaw because they’d been together since before she’d even had the first dream. Apparently he decided that he didn’t need to be secretive with his own sister though, because he retorted, “Then that makes one less thing for StarClan to worry about.”

When the meal was over, he stood up, swiping his tongue around his jaws. “Where now?” he asked. “Back to the lake, or shall we have a look downstream?”

“I’d like to have a look downstream,” meowed Mistyfoot. “We could see if there are any good places for a camp.”

Brambleclaw nodded, and the cats padded in single file along the bank of the steam, away from the lake. He let Mistyfoot take the lead, most likely because she would have the best idea of what RiverClan would need for their camp. All around were plenty of places her Clanmates would feel at home: reed beds, clumps of bramble thickets for prey that wasn’t fish, with the gurgling of fish of the stream always in their ears. Before very long, they came to a small trickle of water that fell down a slope thickly covered with fern and moss to join the main stream. The land between the two streams was sheltered by clumps of hazel and brambles.

“That’s perfect!” Mistyfoot’s eyes shone; she crossed the main stream, leaping from one pebbly island to the next. Mosspelt followed more slowly, though it was clear that she was excited as well. As if realizing she should still be watching out for danger, Mistyfoot lifted her head to taste the air before vanishing into the undergrowth.

“It looks as if RiverClan is settled,” Tawnypelt commented.

“Nothing is settled,” Crowfeather reminded her sharply. “It’s for the leaders to decide how the territories are divided up.”

“Well, don’t tell me WindClan wants to live by a stream, because I won’t believe you,” Squirrelflight retorted.

“Crowfeather’s right, but there’s no need to argue.” Brambleclaw was clearly trying to sound neutral. “With any luck, we’ll find somewhere right for all of us.”

Nightcloud rolled her eyes. “You really do argue a lot,” she noted.

Mistyfoot soon came back with Mosspelt, her tail in the air and her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “I’ve seen enough for now,” she mewed. “We could definitely make a camp here. Let’s keep going, and see if we can find somewhere for your Clans too.”

Her voice was smug, and Tawnypelt couldn’t stop her pelt from bristling at the thought that Mistyfoot was acting like she was doing the rest of the patrol a big favor by accompanying them when RiverClan seemed to have found their perfect home. Mosspelt noticed and shot Mistyfoot a sharp, reprimanding look.

Brambleclaw took the lead to join the RiverClan cats on the other side of the main stream. They headed back to the lake, past the spot where they had stopped to fish, and emerged from the trees into an open space stretching down to the shore. Not far ahead was the Twoleg halfbridge, and now that they were closer, a faint but familiar tang filled the air.

“There’s a Thunderpath nearby!” Brambleclaw hissed. The hair on his shoulders lifted.

Tawnypelt tried to block out the memories of Twoleg monsters gouging through the forest, ripping the trees out of the ground and leaving an unrecognizable landscape of mud and ruts. Surely the Twolegs wouldn’t drive them from this place too, so soon after they’d found it?

Beside Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight stood with her paws braced against the ground and her fur fluffed up, as if she too was watching their home being destroyed all over again.

“I haven’t heard any monsters,” Mistyfoot meowed calmly. Tawnypelt wondered how she could be so confident, when she’d been there for the forest’s destruction longer than any of the questing cats and even been captured by Twolegs. “Let’s go and look.”

She took a pace forward, glancing back when she realized that none of the others had followed her. “Look,” she went on, “we lived near the old Thunderpaths for seasons and seasons, and the never did any cat any harm, so as long as we were careful. This one is quieter already–we haven’t heard a single monster today. There’s no need to lose your fur over it. Now come on.”

Brambleclaw shook himself, being the first of the group to pad forward after Mistyfoot, the others bunched warily behind him. The scent of the Thunderpath strengthened and and soon, the hard, black surfacing, winding through the grass like a flattened snake, came into view. It was much narrower than the old Thunderpath, and as Mistyfoot had pointed out, there were no monsters charging back and forth on it.

“What’s it for?” Crowfeather wondered, walking right up to the edge. “Look– it just goes down to the lake.

He was right. The Thunderpath ended beside the lake in a wider area with the same hard, black stuff. At one side was a small Twoleg nest made of wood.

“The Twoleg scent is faint and stale,” Tawnypelt remarked, feeling relived. “I’d guess they haven’t been here for moons.”

“Look what I’ve found!”

Squirrelflight’s call made Tawnypelt turn to see that the ThunderClan warrior had ventured right out onto the halfbridge, and was gazing down into the water.

“Be careful!” Brambleclaw called, bounding over to her. His paws made a soft thudding noise on the planks of wood, and Tawnypelt saw them rattle ominously every few paces.

“Look!” Squirrelflight leaned over the edge and pricked her ears.

Tawnypelt followed her gaze and saw another Twoleg object floating on the water. It looked like an upturned leaf, but it was much bigger and made of wood. It was partly hidden by the halfbridge, so they hadn’t seen it from the shore.

“What is it?”

“Twolegs call it a boat,” Mistyfoot told them, padding up. Her fur lay flat on her shoulders, and she obviously wasn’t bothered by the rattling halfbridge. “They used to bring them onto our river sometimes–did you never see one? Sometimes they used them for fishing.”

Mosspelt snorted, unfazed by the sight. “More often they ended up falling into the river because the wind blew over their boats. Stupid Twolegs.”

“So this must be a place where the Twolegs come in greenleaf, like the river,” Mistyfoot went on. “That means we don’t have to worry about them now.”

“We’ll need to worry in greenleaf, though,” Squirrelflight meowed.

Mistyfoot shrugged. “We’ll think about that when the time comes. There’ll be thicker growth by then.” She lifted her head to look squarely at Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight, and her gaze took in the others, who were waiting anxiously where the halfbridge joined with the shore. Her expression softened, as if remembering how young they all were. “Of course there will be dangers in our new home, wherever we end,” she meowed, “but we mustn’t forget that we had enemies back in the forest, even before the Twolegs brought their monsters. If StarClan brought us here, it was not because there were no dangers here at all, but because we could learn to live among them, just as we did before.”

Squirrelflight nodded, chastened, but Brambleclaw curled his lip. Tawnypelt sighed, guessing he was annoyed at Mistyfoot’s words, but he’d have to get over it.

“Are you going to stay here forever?” Squirrelflight had padded past him and was looking over her shoulder with her tail raised questioningly. Mistyfoot was already back on the shore with the others.

“No, I’m coming,” Brambleclaw muttered. He followed Squirrelflight off the halfbridge. Tawnypelt rolled her eyes. Mistyfoot led the way out of the clearing, away from the Thunderpath.

“She’s the deputy of her Clan,” Squirrelflight murmured, dropping back to walk close beside him.

Tawnypelt could see his annoyance from where she was. She guessed he was about to retort, but to her surprise, he calmed down and stretched his head forward to lick Squirrelflight’s ear instead. “I know,” he meowed. “And everything she says is true. Come on, let’s not get left behind.”

Rowanclaw flicked her shoulder with his tail gently. “You know, it’s usually safer to face the direction you’re going,” he whispered.

She pretended to growl. “I’ll have you know I am more than capable of using my other senses to know what’s in my path.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

Before she could bat him with her paw, he dashed off, leaving the Twolegplace and the halfbridge behind. She raced after him, catching up after a moment. Without hesitating, she pushed off from the ground in a massive leap and landed on his back. He collapsed on the ground with an explosive oof, and she smirked.

“Honestly, are you kits?” Mistyfoot demanded. Annoyance filled her eyes. “We only have a little more than a day to make it around the lake. There’s no time for messing around like this.”

“Oh, let them have this, Mistyfoot,” Mosspelt purred. “No one has had any chance for fun since greenleaf.” She ignored Mistyfoot’s glare.

Tawnypelt sighed and scrambled off of Rowanclaw, who pushed himself to his paws. “I’ll get you for that later,” he promised.

They were approaching the dark green smudge visible across the lake from the Clans’ temporary camp. As she had guessed, it was a pinewood, ShadowClan’s old territory, whose pines had given way to sticky, marshy ground where only a few stunted trees grew. Thankfully, the air carried no sign of the bitter stench left by tree-cutting monsters, and the ground was smooth and flat, unscarred by the ruts that monsters left behind.

The sun had started to go down, and a red light sone through the trees, casting dark shadows across their path. Tawnypelt felt the fading light touch her pelt and her eyes gleam with readiness.

“Do you think ShadowClan would like to settle here?” Brambleclaw asked her, having caught up with the group.

“Maybe.” Tawnypelt twitched her tail. “But back in the forest there were more trees with lower branches. We’d have trouble climbing most of these.”

She saw that her brother understood. The pines around them grew straight up, with smooth, slippery trunks, and the lowest branches began well above a cat’s head. An energetic warrior could claw their way up the trunk, but elders or queens with their kits would have trouble. If foxes or badgers attacked, the weakest cats would find it hard to escape.

“But you won’t camp in the trees,” Crowfeather meowed. “If you make this your territory, you’ll need somewhere easy to defend for your camp.”

Rowanclaw was looking around the trees. “On the bright side, there’s more prey here than there was in our previous territory. We won’t necessarily have to rely on birds we can reach. And we can always come up with new training methods,” he added brightly. “Tree-climbing could become a new part of assessments.”

Tawnypelt nodded, brushing against him lightly. She looked around. The old camp had been in the shelter of a clump of bramble bushes, dense enough to keep the cats hidden and prickly enough to discourage even the most curious foxes. “I can’t see anywhere here,” she commented.

“You’ll find something,” Nightcloud promised.

The ground sloped gently upward from the lake, which was just visible through the trees as a glimmer of silver. As far as she could see, the forest floor was smooth and clear, with little undergrowth where prey might found. And squirrel scent seemed to be the the strongest here. Rowanclaw might be right about ShadowClan developing new tree-climbing techniques. At least this place seemed more welcoming than the old territory, which had been dreary and unwelcoming: partly bog, partly scrubby forest with few tall trees.

“It might be different farther on,” Brambleclaw mewed encouragingly. “Let’s head away from the lake.”

Tawnypelt took the lead as they moved warily up the slope. The thick covering of brittle pine needles muffled their pawsteps; everything was so quiet that their meows sounded too loud, and gradually every cant fell silent. She looked back just in time to see her brother nearly jump out of his fur when a bird shot up with a loud alarm call. She let out a mrrow of laughter.

Squirrelflight sniffed at a clump of yellowish fungi and drew back with her lip curled in disgust. “I wouldn’t want to live here,” she muttered to Brambleclaw. “Do you think there’s any point in going farther?”

“It’s up to Tawnypelt,” he replied. She smiled at her brother’s words. “This is more like ShadowClan territory than anything we’ve seen so far.”

They padded on, but before they had gone many more pawsteps, Mistyfoot stopped. “This is no good,” she meowed. “We’re getting farther and farther away from the lake, and it’s going to get dark soon.”

“I need to find somewhere for a ShadowClan cat,” Tawnypelt insisted, feeling determination in her belly.

“But the Clans sent us to patrol the whole lake.” Mistyfoot’s tail twitched. “We can’t waster time exploring one place more than anywhere else. You’ve already said that these trees remind you of your old home, so maybe this should be ShadowClan territory.”

“And what do you think I’m going to say to Blackstar about where we’ll actually live?” Tawnypelt felt her voice sharpen, her neck fur rising. I can’t fail. This is my only chance to finally prove myself as a loyal and worthy ShadowClan warrior! “You needn’t think ShadowClan is going to take the worst territory. If there’s nowhere to camp, then forget it!”

Mistyfoot’s neck fur bristled too. “Trust ShadowClan to be difficult!”

“It’s alright for you, isn’t it? RiverClan’s got everything sorted out. You were pretty quick to stake a claim when we found that stream!’

Mistyfoot let out a furious hiss, unsheathing her claws, and Tawnypelt braced herself to fight the RiverClan deputy.

“That’s enough!” Mosspelt thrust herself between the quarreling cats, her gaze firm. “This is no time time for a fight,” she went on steadily. “None of us can afford to deal with injuries out here, not when there’s no medicine cats or herbs to use. We’ll never finish this mission if we’re fighting each other.”

Brambleclaw joined her. “Exactly. Tawnypelt, no cat will force ShadowClan to settle in a place they don’t want to.”

“Huh!” Tawnypelt shot a last glare at Mistyfoot before turning away.

Rowanclaw stroked her flank with his tail. “Everything’s going to be all right,” he promised. “We’ll find a camp, and then no cat will be able to doubt your loyalty.”

She gave him a surprised look. “What do you–?”

“I know that’s why you’re feeling so strongly about this. You want to prove yourself to ShadowClan and to Blackstar.”

“They’ve never trusted me,” Tawnypelt whispered. “I don’t know what it will take to convince them.”

He pressed his muzzle to hers. “Well, you don’t have to prove yourself to me.” She breathed in his familiar scent, relaxing.

“I think we should go on a bit farther,” Brambleclaw mewed to Mistyfoot. “We need to find somewhere to spend the night.”

“I know.” Mistyfoot was clearly still upset. “I just think we should head back to the lake.”

“But–” Brambleclaw broke off. “More cats!” he exclaimed.

“What?” Squirrelflight bounded over. “Where?”

Brambleclaw angled his ears in the direction they had been going. “Up ahead.”

“They must be rogues or loners.” Crowfeather sounded concerned. “Or maybe some other Clan has already staked a claim here.

While the suggestion clearly worried Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt didn’t think that it was likely. StarClan had brought them here; they wouldn’t have led them to another Clan’s home.

“Maybe they’re just passing through,” he meowed. “But we ought to check it out.”

“I don’t think it’s important now.” Mistyfoot waved her tail as Brambleclaw opened his jaws to protest. “All right, all right. But you can tell the leaders why it took us so long to get back.”

“Someone’s touchy,” Nightcloud muttered with an eye roll, drawing an amused purr from Crowfeather.

Mosspelt shrugged. “She’s still trying to prove herself after being captured by Twolegs,” the tortoiseshell explained.

“Fine,” Brambleclaw agreed, before heading through the trees in the direction of the scent. Soon they came to a low wall of rough gray stone with a Twoleg nest beyond it.

“Twolegs!” Tawnypelt growled in disgust. Why couldn’t they ever escape them? “Those must be kittypets we can smell.”

Squirrelflight rolled her eyes. “All this fuss about kittypets!”

“You stay here,” Brambleclaw mewed softly. “I’m going to take a closer look.”

“What for?” Mistyfoot’s tail twitched impatiently, but she didn’t say anything else when Brambleclaw crept forward. Naturally, Squirrelflight ignored what he’d told her to do and followed him closely.

While they were gone, Crowfeather drew Nightcloud away. “We won’t be long,” he promised. They began discussing something quietly.

“Well, I guess our patrol has now been split in half,” Mistyfoot muttered.

Mosspelt gazed at her sympathetically. “I know you want to get back to the others, but at least now they might find some catmint. From what Mudfur said, it really only grows in Twoleg gardens.”

“She’s right,” Rowanclaw agreed. “And the more of that we find, the better it will be for all the Clans.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Mistyfoot conceded reluctantly.

A moment later, furious yowling sounded from the garden. “Well, it seems that those two have managed to get themselves into a fight,” Tawnypelt observed dryly.

Mistyfoot charged forward. “Which is the last thing we need.”

Entering the garden, Tawnypelt saw with horror that Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight were locked in combat with two lean, dangerous kittypets, who both looked well-fed and battleworn. 

Brambleclaw was pinned beneath the black-and-white tom, who snapped his teeth at his ear. The kittypet’s claws raked over Brambleclaw’s side, with the warrior battering vainly at his opponent’s belly.

Mistyfoot reached them first, swiping her claws down the kittypet’s shoulder, and giving Brambleclaw a chance to regain his paws. Before the kittypet could face her, she leapt out of reach. While he was still unbalanced, she leaped onto his back and sank her teeth into the scruff of his neck.

Just then, Squirrelflight’s opponent, a light brown tabby, broke away from the ginger warrior and raced around the side of the nest, yowling. Mosspelt and Rowanclaw pelted across the garden, but before they reached the fight, the door of the nest was flung open. A Twoleg stood in the doorway, letting out a loud screech. It raised a forepaw to throw something, but a brown-and-white flash of fur dived between its legs. Another kittypet? Tawnypelt wondered. The Twoleg gave another loud screech as it wobbled and fell to the ground with a heavy thud. The noise distracted Mistyfoot, and the black-and-white tom wrenched itself from under her paws and fled toward the nest.

The brown-and-white kittypet intercepted the tom, knock his paws out from under him. She pinned him to the ground and hissed, “I’ve told you before, Holton, leave the other cats alone!” Before he could reply, she raised a paw and slammed it, claws sheathed, against his head. He slumped down, the light fading from his eyes. “Enjoy your nap, you mangy piece of crowfood.”

The new kittypet stepped off of him and turned to face the Clan cats. Tawnypelt felt a small sense of recognition. “Wait, don’t I know you?” Squirrelflight meowed.

“Hmmm, I don’t believe we’ve ever met before,” the kittypet replied.

“But you look so familiar,” Tawnypelt argued.

“She looks like Spikekit,” Brambleclaw realized.

Before the kittypet could answer, the Twoleg started to slowly stand up. “Time to go,” she announced firmly. She led them out of the garden and towards their friends.

Mistyfoot gave her a hard stare. “Would you mind telling us who you are?” she pressed firmly.

The kittypet shrugged. “Who I am is a long story which I would be happy to explain while I guide you to the next place you need to find.”

“You know where we need to go?” Rowanclaw sounded incredulous.

“Who are you?” Squirrelflight demanded.

“My name is Astral,” the kittypet introduced herself. “And if you’ve met a kit who looks as much like me as you’re saying, then that means that the newest Protector has been born, and she is destined to join one of the four Warrior Clans.”

Chapter Text

Crowfeather settled down a few tail-lengths away from the others. “We won’t be long,” he called to the others.

Nightcloud sat down next to him. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

“Leaving WindClan, to go try finding the sun-drown-place, it isn’t what I would have chosen.”

“But StarClan chose you,” she reminded him.

“My father chose me–” his voice caught in his throat. “He could have chosen you, he could have chosen any WindClan warrior, but he chose me. Why?”

Nightcloud gave him proud look. “Deadfoot chose you because he knew what kind of cat you are: how loyal and dedicated you are to your Clan and your friends.”

“I guess so.” Crowfeather wasn’t sure. His father had only died a moon before the vision, two days after Nightcloud’s warrior ceremony. How could a young apprentice be the kind of cat worthy to go on a mission to save all four Clans?

“Your father was my mentor,” she reminded him. “I learned so much from him. One thing that was very clear was how much faith he had in you. He loved you more than any other cat.”

Crowfeather closed his eyes. “When I went on the journey, I kept telling myself it was a mistake. No way I was supposed to be working with cats from other Clans. Especially Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight, who had recently caught me with a patrol stealing prey. But we managed to get along most of the time. We found Midnight and we found our way home. The others proved themselves trustworthy and loyal.”

“I am honored to have met them.”

“Feathertail always tried the hardest to make me feel like I was welcomed, like I belonged,” he admitted. “When she tried to teach me to fish, I ended up with a mouthful of saltwater, and thought she and the others were messing with me. But then we realized that it was my turn to get my salt water sign. I was the last one to get it, and she was so excited for me.”

Nightcloud sighed. “I’m glad she was there for you.”

“We loved each other. Stormfur didn’t approve, but we did. It wasn’t right, and we didn’t know each other enough for it to work. But I thought nothing could go wrong until we ended up with the Tribe. I got trapped by Sharptooth and Feathertail leaped onto a pointed stone on the roof of the Tribe’s cave. It fell and killed Sharptooth, and Feathertail fell and died too, sacrificing herself for the Tribe. I felt like I lost everything. Stoneteller promised that the Tribe would honor her, but it didn’t seem fair,” Crowfeather said. “I didn’t it was possible for me to open up again. But then you came to you me. You accepted me after I’d left, and you knew how I felt about Feathertail but you stayed with me anyway.”

“Clanmates don’t leave each other,” Nightcloud whispered.

Crowfeather tipped his head to one side. “Most of the Clan wasn’t thrilled I was back. I was another mouth to feed, a cat who’d left and come back having eaten well with other warriors. It wasn’t till I began tirelessly catching everything I could find that they began to trust me again. The only cats I had were you and Tallstar and Mudclaw and my mother.”

She growled angrily. “They should have trusted you! You were–are the most loyal cat in the Clan.”

He purred faintly. “I wasn’t exactly being loyal when I fell in love with Feathertail. And I know that it’s not fair to you for me to be your mate right now, not when I’m still grieving, still thinking about her.”

“What are you saying?” Nightcloud whispered again.

Crowfeather took a deep breath. “I love you, Nightcloud. I love you more than any other cat. So I am asking for time to process my grief, to accept what happened to Feathertail and let her go properly. I’m asking for this because I want you to be my focus, to be the most important cat in my life, and I want you to know that you are not a second choice. I choose you and I will always choose you. But it’s not fair to you to ask to be your mate right now. You deserve a cat who loves you with his whole heart, who’s not distracted by a mistake from his past.”

A stunned look filled Nightcloud’s eyes. “And that’s why Deadfoot chose you,” she told him. At his questioning look, she added, “He knew that you do your best to make the right decisions, that you want what’s best for the cats you care about.”

“I think you’re right,” Crowfeather murmured.

“As to what you asked for, my answer is yes. I will give you time to mourn and be at peace with Feathertail’s death and your own decision. My heart belongs to you, and I will wait for you as long as you need. I’ll be here if you want someone to talk to. You can always come to me,” Nightcloud promised.

Crowfeather purred. “Thank you, Nightcloud. I promise to do right by you. My heart belongs to you too.”

They settled down on the pine-covered forest floor in a peaceful silence.

Too soon, the silence was disturbed by the patrol coming to join them. At the head of the patrol was a brown-and-white she-cat.

“So you found someone?” Crowfeather asked calmly. Judging by the ruffled pelts of both Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight, he guessed this newcomer hadn’t been the only one they’d found.

“This is Astral!” Squirrelflight introduced breathlessly.

Rowanclaw snorted. “She helped save them from a Twoleg and some fierce kittypets.”

“How fierce?” Nightcloud questioned curiously. 

“Well, they’ve clearly been in fights before,” Brambleclaw explained. “They were stronger and better fed than we were, so that was a problem.”

Astral rolled her eyes. “Holton and Carla have been been terrorizing the cats who come around here for seasons. I’ve been protecting cats ever since Twolegs adopted me six months ago.”

“Exactly how old are you?” Mosspelt asked.

“I was born at the beginning of the previous leafbare,” Astral said. “But you can question me later; right now it’s time I lead you where you need to go.”

She turned and padded away in what Crowfeather realized was a different direction from the one they’d come. Tall pine trees stood all around them, with not a hint of where the lake might be.

Mistyfoot quickened her footsteps so she was walking beside Astral. “It’s getting dark. I hope you’re not planning on getting us lost in strange woods.”

Astral shook her head. “I’m just helping you find a place to find the night so we can find our way around the lake in the morning.”

“How long are you staying with us for?” Mosspelt sounded surprised.

“Just long enough to help you get through the forest. I suspect that it will rain tomorrow and you all will want some shelter, so I will explain things to you then. After that I must return and ensure that those two pieces of crowfood aren’t bullying someone else.”

Brambleclaw seemed discouraged, and Crowfeather guessed that he was feeling guilty for the fight. He kept to the rear of the group, his tail dropping, and hardly looked up when Squirrelflight dropped back to give him an affectionate nuzzle.

“Cheer up!” she mewed. “It’s not that bad. We have a guide, and we found out something that ShadowClan will need to be warned about if they decide to settle here.”

“Blackstar won’t want those two kittypets in his territory,” Brambleclaw muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Squirrelflight’s gaze flicked toward the rest of the group and then she lowered voice. Crowfeather couldn’t make out what she’d said.

Whatever it was, it amused Brambleclaw, as he let out an purr of laughter. The two ThunderClan warriors hastened their pace to catch up with the rest of the patrol. The ground started to slope more steeply, with rocks jutting out here and there. Tussocks of grass and small bushes were rooted in the gaps between the rocks, and the scent of prey grew stronger.

Tawnypelt reached the top first, having overtaken Astral in excitement. Halting on a flattened boulder, she called back, “Come and see this!”

Crowfeather sprang up with Mistyfoot beside Tawnypelt. Nightcloud, Rowanclaw, and Mosspelt came a moment later, with Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw joining them a few seconds later. Even though the last of the sun had gone and shadows were gathering, Crowfeather could see a wide, shallow dip in the ground, half-hidden under dense brambles. The half moon, shining through thin clouds, cast watery beams of light onto the trees that surrounded the hollow, their gnarled branches almost sweeping the ground.

Squirrelflight rasped her tongue over Tawnypelt’s ear. “A camp for ShadowClan!” she whispered. “We’d have never found it if Brambleclaw hadn’t gone looking for those kittypets. And since the moore is close to where the Clans are camped, that just means we’re looking for ThunderClan territory.”

Mistyfoot shot her a glance that was half annoyed, half amused.

“Maybe it would make a good camp.” Tawnypelt was trying to sound calm, even though she was obviously excited. “But that will be for Blackstar to decide, if ShadowClan moves into this territory.”

“At least it’s possible,” meowed Mistyfoot. “You might find even better places, once you’ve had the chance to explore properly.”

“But it’s too late to go any farther tonight,” Crowfeather pointed out.

“You’re right,” Squirrelflight agreed. “My paws are dropping off. Where are we going to sleep.

Brambleclaw led them down the slope to a pool of water. Mistyfoot crouched beside him and asked, “Do you want to hunt? Or shall we leave it till morning?”

“Morning,” Squirrelflight responded, despite the fact the question hadn’t been addressed to her. She gave a huge yawn. “I’m so tired I couldn’t catch a mouse if it sat on my paws. Besides, we’ve eaten enough today to feed a whole Clan!”

She was right. Back in the forest there had been many days when the Clans hadn’t found as much fresh-kill as they had caught since they left on their patrol.

When all the cats had taken their tun to drink, they settled down to sleep among the grass at the foot of the slope. Mistyfoot organized sentries, and Crowfeather took first watch. Rowanclaw curled up next to Tawnypelt. “You did it,” he whispered encouragingly.

Astral had settled a few paw-lengths away from the others. Mosspelt left where she been next to Mistyfoot and came to join her. “Thank you for helping us,” the RiverClan queen said.

Crowfeather kept his eyes fixed on the dark forest around them. We’ve done well, he thought. Two of the Clans have homes and Astral said WindClan territory will be at the end. Now we just need to find some place for ThunderClan.

* * * * *

Clouds covered the sun the next morning as the patrol set off to find their way back to the lake. Heading in what Astral said was the right direction, they stopped when they smelled scent markers, and spotted the walls of the Twoleg nest through the woods.

“Yuck!” Squirrelflight’s lip curled. “That’s worse than fox dung. Those kittypets must have marked their territory.”

Astral scowled. “I’ll have to discuss this with them later.”

The patrol skirted the markers warily, but thankfully, there was no sign of the hostile kittypets. With the nest in view, it wasn’t long before Astral brought them back to their earlier scent trail.

“This way!” she meowed, showing no sign of caring that they’d very much gone out of their way to find the potential ShadowClan camp.

A chill wind shook the tops of the pines, and as they reached the shore, the cats felt the full force of the wind. From the look of their position, they’d likely traveled about halfway around the lake. Back the way they had come was the dark smudge of the island against a background of pale green hills. The surface of the lake was gray and choppy, under clouds that bulged with rain.

“Just what we need!” Tawnypelt grumbled, tucking her nose into her chest.

Astral waved her tail for the rest to follow her into the trees. “We might as well stay under cover,” she offered. “It’s more sheltered here.”

“Just as long as we don’t get lost again,” Mistyfoot warned. “Let’s stay where we can see the lake.”

Astral gave her a sour look. “Do you really think I don’t know my way through these woods?”

The others were all happy to get out of the icy wind. They moved off, keeping the lake in sight through the outlying trees but not venturing onto the open shore.

They had not gone far before Crowfeather let out a muffled grunt and streaked off, feeling his tail streaming behind him. Ahead was a gray-furred creature nibbling a pinecone at the foot of one of the trees. Its ears flicked up in alarm as Crowfeather raced toward it. Dropping the pinecone, it sprang for the safety of the tree. But Crowfeather was faster. With a mighty leap, he grabbed the squirrel’s tail and pulled it back to the ground. Warm triumph flooded him as he padded back with the limp body dangling from his jaws.

“Good catch!” Squirrelflight meowed.

Crowfeather nodded as he dropped the fresh-kill in front of them. Rowanclaw had caught a thrush. “Come on; let’s eat.”

Everyone crouched beside the prey to eat their share, though Brambleclaw was clearly impatient. It made sense, since the leaders expected them home by nightfall to report what they had discovered. They still had a lot of territory to explore–and two Clans still needed homes.

“Let’s go,” Brambleclaw meowed as soon as they had finished. Mistyfoot didn’t protest, swiping her tongue around her jaws. She kept pace with him behind Astral, who led them through the trees at a steady trot.

It was obvious that the ThunderClan warrior was still worried. As if she could read the thoughts Crowfeather couldn’t, Tawnypelt padded up beside her brother and touched her muzzle briefly to his side. “Worried about something?” she mewed.

“I’m okay,” he told her, sounding as though he were trying to convince himself. “I’ll just be happier when we’ve found some territory for ThunderClan.”

Astral turned back to look at him. “I promise you, young warrior, there is a place for your Clan here.”

“And there’s a long way to go yet,” Tawnypelt mewed encouragingly.

Soon they came to a wide path winding through the trees. The pine-needle cover gave way to short grass; regular dents in it had filled with water to form small pools.

“Horses have been along here,” Crowfeather mewed, recognizing the scent. He lapped at one of the puddles.

Tawnypelt tasted the air. “Twolegs, too. But there’s no sign of them now,”

“That’s because most of the Twolegs who visit here don’t see a point in coming in winter,” Astral replied.

Mistyfoot was gazing up at a tree close to the edge of the path. “That’s a Twoleg thing,” she reported, flicking her tail at something above her head.

Everyone looked where she had indicated. A round shape made of something hard and shiny had been fastened to the tree. It was bright blue, the same glittering color as some of the monsters on the Thunderpath.

“What do you think it’s for?” Squirrelflight asked.

“Maybe it’s like a Twoleg scent marking,” Brambleclaw suggested. “This path could be a boundary between two territories.”

Nightcloud scoffed. “Only Twolegs need to be able to see their boundary markers.”

There seemed nothing dangerous about the mark, and all the cats besides Astral looked around warily as they crossed the path. No one had been that scared of Twolegs before they’d destroyed the forest, Crowfeather reflected. Most likely no Clan cat would ever feel truly safe around them again. Thankfully, they soon reached the shelter of the trees on the other side.

Gradually the pine trees began to thin out. Cold rain began to fall, billowing over the cats as the wind rattled the branches above them, sending a prickly shower of pine needles onto their heads.

“I’d give anything for a nice warm den!” Squirrelflight grumbled, flicking raindrops from her ears.

“This is too much rain even for RiverClan,” Mosspelt agreed.

Heads down, they plodded on until the trees stopped altogether, giving way to a broad, straight-edged grassy clearing. At the edge of the wood they crossed another Twoleg path, narrower than the first, the grass worn away by many feet. By now, everything was so wet that no cat could pick up a scent, other than being sure that no Twolegs were there now.

“There’s another one of those halfbridges,” Brambleclaw mewed, pricking his ears toward the wooden structure that jutted out into the lake. Squirrelflight didn’t seem keen on venturing onto it this time–not when billows icy rain scudded across the surface of the lake and rattled against the wood.

They cautiously crossed the exposed space beyond the trees, crouching down until the short grass brushed their belly fur. For a while there was no sound except for the falling rain and the trees clattering in the wind. They had a clear view of the lake from here. Now they were about to enter the last stretch of the trees before the bare ridge of hills; beyond was the place where the horses were, and then the copse of trees where all four Clans waited to hear about their new homes. If WindClan was going to take the hills, which seemed logical, Crowfeather realized that this was ThunderClan’s last chance to find somewhere to live.

To no cat’s surprise, Astral didn’t seem worried at all, and Crowfeather was starting to feel more curious about who this strange kittypet was.

Brambleclaw’s ears twitched, and Crowfeather picked up the sound of running water. May be there was a place for a ThunderClan camp nearby, with somewhere to drink nearby.

“It must be another stream,” he meowed.

Beneath their paws, the ground sloped down and the grass gave way to pebbles, which in turn disappeared beneath a broad, fast-flowing stream. Unlike the stream they had found in the place where RiverClan might make their camp, there were no stepping stones or islands to help the cats across. 

“We’ll have to wade,” Tawnypelt decided. “It doesn’t look too deep.”

Nightcloud was staring at the water in annoyance. “Well, we’re already wet; we might as well be soaked,” she grumbled.

She followed as Tawnypelt padded down to the edge of the water and dipped in her paw, drawing it out again with a hiss; the water was obviously icy cold. Then she shook herself and walked into the water, placing each paw carefully on the slippery pebbles. There were fewer reeds here than in the first stream where they had stopped to fish the day before, and hardly any shrubs or other undergrowth. Crowfeather felt sympathy for Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight. This was no place for a camp, especially not with traces of Twolegs so close by.

“Watch out when you get to the middle,” Mistyfoot called. “Sometimes there are hollows that you can’t see above the water, and it could suddenly get deeper.”

The water had almost reached the two she-cats’ belly fur by now. Tawnypelt paused and nodded without looking back, while Nightcloud’s pelt bristled anxiously. The two of them went on more cautiously.

Mosspelt went next. “Mistyfoot will bring up the rear,” she said. “That way if something happens, we can help.” The others followed. Crowfeather let out a startled meow as he slipped on a loose stone, but he found his balance again after some rather undignified splashing, and managed to keep his head above the surface of the water. I am never doing this again! he thought angrily.

Tawnypelt and Nightcloud jumped out and shook themselves from nose to tail, scattering drops of water around their paws. “You’ll be fine,” the tortoiseshell called to the others. “I didn’t have to swim at all.”

Brambleclaw let out a miserable hiss. “I don’t think that really matters,” he muttered. “I’m already cold and soaked.” Beside him, Mistyfoot padded confidently through the water as if she were on dry land. She was keeping an eye on Squirrelflight, who the shortest legs of all of them and had to tip back her head to stop the water from lapping at her muzzle. Mosspelt had already made it to the other side and was carefully watching the rest of the group.

After a moment, they all made it across the stream. Besides the RiverClan cats, the only one who didn’t seem bothered by their crossing was Astral. Mosspelt gave her a surprised look. “There was a river where I was born,” the kittypet explained. “I wasn’t supposed to go near it, but I swam there a couple times. I had…special permission.”

“I’m starting to wonder more and more about your history,” Rowanclaw meowed.

She smirked. “Don’t worry, I suspect I’ll be telling you all about it in a few moments.”

There was another stretch of open grass on the far side of the stream, with more trees beyond, and the cats made a dash for cover. Unfortunately, the branches here had shed their leaves and didn’t offer much shelter from the rain.

The trees here were oak and beech, not pines like the forest they had just left. “This will provide good shelter for the mice and birds ThunderClan is used to hunting,” Brambleclaw said, sounding a bit happier. “Still not a fan of all these signs of Twoleg activity, though.”

“What do you think?” Mistyfoot asked Squirrelflight.

She scuffled with one forepaw among the discarded beech shells lying in the grass. “With all these nuts around, there should be plenty of squirrels,” she meowed.

Mistyfoot narrowed her eyes at Brambleclaw, who still seemed uneasy. “Why don’t we rest for a bit?” she suggested. “Find somewhere out of the rain and hope it stops soon.”

“Hope catches no prey,” Crowfeather commented dryly.

“That’s a good idea, Mistyfoot,” Brambleclaw meowed.

“If we can find any shelter,” Tawnypelt added.

Astral let out a small cough. “If only you had a guide, who knew somewhere we could all get out of the rain.”

Mosspelt winced. “Sorry, Astral,”

“Clan cats aren’t exactly used to kittypets helping them,” Nightcloud added apologetically.

The brown-and-white cat sighed. “Come on. There’s a place farther into the woods that’s a little warmer.”

They padded into the trees on a slanting course that led away from the lake. When they could still make out the silver sheen of water behind them, they came to a huge, ancient oak standing among the beech trees. The ground had fallen away around the twisting roots, and there was a faint, stale scene of rabbit, as if this had once been used as burrow. There was room for all the cats to creep in among the roots, where the were sheltered from the wind, though a few drops of rain still trickled in.

Brambleclaw huddled close to Squirrelflight and began to lick drops of rain from the fur around her neck and shoulders.

“This feels way harder than anything we had to do on the journey,” she murmured after a while. “All that way–all the danger we faced getting here, the times we nearly didn’t make it–and now we have to decide where the Clan is going to make its new home. It doesn’t feel as if StarClan is going to lead us straight to a nice safe camp. What if we make the wrong decision?”

“I thought it would be easier than this too,” Brambleclaw admitted.

Squirrelflight peered out of their shelter. “These are the right sort of trees, but it’s so open here compared with the old territory. ThunderClan won't feel safe if there isn’t enough cover.”

“Don’t worry,” Crowfeather purred from where he’d settled next to Nightcloud. By unspoken agreement, each cat had settled next to his or her Clanmate, with the exception of Mosspelt. The RiverClan queen had once again joined Astral, forcing Mistyfoot to follow. “You’ll find a place. Besides, if I know you, you’ll run straight into it,” he added with a purr.

“And what if the territory’s full of Twolegs,” Brambleclaw pointed out.

“Come on!” Tawnypelt stopped licking her chest fur and looked up to face him. “There were plenty of Twolegs back in the forest. It wasn’t a problem then, and it won’t be a problem now.”

She was talking sense, but Brambleclaw looked like he still didn’t feel safe.

“It’ll look better in newleaf,” Mistyfoot meowed encouragingly. “Everywhere does.”

“She’s right,” Nightcloud agreed. “Leafbare makes everything look worse than it is. At least we know the hunting’s good.”

Mosspelt purred. “The prey here’s been lured into a false sense of security. Most of it’s probably never even seen a cat.”

“Hmm…” Squirrelflight shifted so that she could lick the damp fur at the base of her tail. “We still have to find a camp, though.”

Rowanclaw swished his tail. “And you’ll find one,” he promised. “Remember, we barely found a ShadowClan camp before it was too dark to see anything.”

“You’ve hardly set paw in the territory yet,” Crowfeather added.

“I know.” Brambleclaw seemed like he was making an effort to stop worrying, instead concentrating on giving Squirrelflight a few more vigorous licks.

Her jaws gaped in an enormous yawn. “This rain doesn’t help. If it goes on much longer, it’ll wash my fur off.”

Brambleclaw stopped and rested his muzzle against Squirrelflight’s flank.

“Well then, I suppose now would be a good time for a distraction,” Astral said.

The Clan cats settled down, making themselves more comfortable. Nightcloud pressed herself against Crowfeather’s sighed, and he purred. Mistyfoot gave Astral a penetrating stare. “You said you’re something called a Protector. What exactly is that?”

Astral tucked her paws underneath herself. “I am from a group of cats that has existed as long as the Clans themselves,” she began. “We were once many, but eventually famine and tragedy wiped out everyone except for three pairs of mates. Those six cats each had a litter of kits, but only one kit from each litter survived. Growing older, the parents knew that the last remnants of the group would soon die out and be forgotten, so they sought the ancestors for help.

“That very night, some of the ancestors appeared in the living world to the kits’ parents. The older cats would never have other litters of kits, they said; their group would be lost. But there was a way to ensure that the blood of these cats survived. They brought the kits to speak with them and offered them a chance to travel and become protectors of new families. If they accepted, they would be blessed by the ancestors with stronger instincts, an ability to discern the intentions of other cats, and a life of adventures and excitement. If chose not to accept, they would remain with their parents and live out a peaceful life. There was no wrong choice.

“Two of the kits accepted the offer, and together with their parents, left the home of their birth and went to join others. The third kit and his parents remained by the sun-drown-place and they eventually passed away after a final reunion with their old friends. The other two kits were guided by their dreams to new homes. One, a she-cat named Star, joined the Tribe of Rushing Water. As one of their prey-hunters, she took on the name Star That Lights the Night Sky. She became mates with a cave-guard, Boulder on Large Mountain, and they had a litter of three kits, one of whom became the next Protector of Star’s lineage.

“The second kit, a tom named Eagle, joined one of the five Clans with his parents. He trained as a warrior and earned the name Eaglestorm. He became mates with a she-cat named Fernbreeze, and their daughter Stripestalk became the next Protector of Eagle’s lineage.

“I am from Eagle’s Clan lineage. Seasons ago, two kits in a litter were chosen as Protectors. One of them was meant to leave the Clans and become a kittypet, while the other joined SkyClan just before they were driven out of the forest. After that, I know that the second Protector’s descendants stayed near SkyClan’s new territory, even after its destruction by rats. The first Protector’s descendants, along with those of Star, spread out across the world. Some became kittypets, some stayed with the Tribe, some left to live in barns, some became rogues–”

Sounds of surprise came from the warriors. Astral looked up, an unreadable expression on her face.

Mosspelt was the first to speak. “There were once five Clans?”

Astral nodded. “You are not the first to be driven away from your forest by Twolegs. That devastation goes to SkyClan. The Twolegplace and Treecutplace near ThunderClan’s territory is the original SkyClan’s territory. I will not tell you their full story, as that is not place to tell, but suffice it to say that Twolegs destroyed SkyClan’s territory and the other Clans refused to help, ordering them to leave the forest instead.”

Rowanclaw’s eyes widened. “How could we have done that?”

“Yes, I don’t understand,” Crowfeather added. “Were the Clans so cruel as to make SkyClan potentially go to their Clan’s death?”

“I’m afraid they were,” Astral meowed. “And SkyClan essentially did die out. Overwhelming hordes of rats decimated the Clan and forced them out of their new home. Some of the warriors became kittypets, while other stayed and died as warriors. And until about a season before I was born, SkyClan stayed gone, until Cloudstar came to Firestar and requested that he restore the fifth Clan.”

Brambleclaw’s eyes widened. “So that’s where Firestar went!”

Mistyfoot rolled her eyes. “He does have an overwhelming need to help everyone,” she muttered.

Astral went on. “That is where and when I was born, just a season after Firestar left to return to his Clan. I grew up as a kit in SkyClan, with the name Lightkit.”

“You were a member of SkyClan?” “Why did you change your name?” Nightcloud and Mosspelt asked at once.

“Yes, I was. And to answer the second question, I suppose it’s best to get back my explanation of Protectors,” Astral decided. “Protectors can only come from the litters of other Protectors. While the kits in those litters who have not become Protectors learn everything their Protector littermates, they use those teachings in the places they are born, where they stay for the remainder of their lives. A chosen Protector will begin having dreams as soon as they are old enough to understand what is happening. In these dreams, they will be transported to the location and beings they must protect, before returning to their families when they awake. Eventually they will travel there to stay and will take on a name that allows them to fit in with their new families. Most of the time only one kit in a litter will become a Protector, though sometimes there are multiple. And not all litters will have a Protector born.

“As I mentioned before, Protectors are born with keen instincts, and they can tell if a cat means harm to others. Often, there is a specific enemy they must protect their new family from, and usually this means they strike up an immediate hostile relationship with this enemy.”

Squirrelflight frowned. “I’m guessing Spikekit is the new Protector, then. I don’t know her, but she was watching Birchkit and Tallpoppy’s kits play with Spiderpaw and Whitepaw. Then she started a conversation with us.”

“How long has she been among the Clans?” Astral asked.

The seven warriors gave each other confused looks. Crowfeather had barely noticed her even when she’d come to talk with Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw.

“She joined us just after we left Highstones,” Mosspelt replied. When the others stared at her in surprise, she rolled her eyes. “I’m a queen, mousebrains. It’s my job to look after kits. And she wasn’t hurting anyone, so I kept an eye on her.”

“What exactly has she been doing?” Mistyfoot asked cautiously.

Mosspelt smiled. “She’s befriended all the kits. She’s extremely friendly and gently. Darkkit especially adores her. Half the time, Spikekit will go up to a warrior or an apprentice and start a conversation, which usually confuses that cat.”

“When is she going to officially join one of the Clans?” Rowanclaw wondered aloud.

“Most Protectors leave to join their new homes at around six moons of age. However, it depends on when a kit is ready, so it may be sooner or later than that,” Astral explained. “But if you’re about to separate, you might not see her again until she’s at least six moons. And expect her to join whichever Clan has the fewest young cats.” The former SkyClan cat fixed them all with a fierce gaze. “Remember that she is young and most likely alone among you. Don't treat her with suspicion, it's not necessary.”

Nightcloud nodded. “If she joins WindClan, we will welcome her.”

“RiverClan will be happy to have her,” Mistyfoot meowed.

“As will ShadowClan,” Rowanclaw said.

Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight exchanged a glance. “ThunderClan only has one kit and Spiderpaw and Whitepaw will become warriors soon. So hopefully she'll join us,” Squirrelflight purred.

Astral dipped her head gratefully. “Thank you, warriors. And when she comes to join you, please give me a chance to meet her. She is my kin, and it's been moons since I met anyone in my family.”

“You have my word,” Mosspelt promised. “We will bring her to meet you when she joins us.”

Chapter Text

Squirrelflight was pretty sure Brambleclaw was falling asleep. Astral’s story had been just like one she might have heard while checking Speckletail or Dappletail’s ticks, except she hadn’t been worried about being snapped at for pressing too hard. I hope they’re safe in StarClan, she thought sadly.

She looked outside, wriggling, and saw with relief that the rain had faded from steady pattering on the grass outside into uneven, short-lived bursts. The wind had dropped, and a watery beam of sunlight glinted on the drops that hung from every branch and twig.

“I think it’s easing off,” she said. Brambleclaw shifted and opened his eyes blearily.

Tawnypelt meowed, “The clouds are breaking up.”

Brambleclaw scrambled out from the roots. Outside it was clear that it was nearly sunhigh. The rest of the patrol emerged behind him. Mistyfoot scented the air, while Crowfeather groomed the ruffled fur on his gray-black shoulder. Mosspelt stretched, the smooth fur on her back rippling.

“Any chance of hunting?” Squirrelflight meowed, stretching each hindleg in turn. Then they could see what prey was really here.

“Sure,” Brambleclaw replied. “Let’s look for something on the way.”

The cats spread out among the trees. The only smell in the air at first was wet leaves and dripping branches. Surely there weren’t enough Twolegs here to drive away all the prey. At least the ground was becoming more even, with bushes and clumps of dead bracken where little creatures might hide.

Suddenly she picked up a tiny scuffling sound among the leaves at the foot of a tree. Brambleclaw heard it too, but Squirrelflight streaked forward before he could move. This one’s mine! she thought. Her paws pounded on the ground after the prey–a vole, she realized–shot out and vanished into a clump of brambles. Squirrelflight raced after it with her nose stretched out.

Behind her, Brambleclaw groaned and Crowfeather commented, “She won’t catch it now.”

I’ll show them. Squirrelflight plunged into the bushes, branches waving around her. The vole was just ahead of her. She lunged for it, but it darted to one side. A split second later, she let out a yowl of shock and fury as the ground beneath her vanished and she dropped.

Pain pricked her as she came to land in a clump of brambles. She hissed irritably, feeling the sharp points stabbing into her pelt. Wrenching herself free, she felt clumps of fur rip from her pelt and stick to the brambles. An annoyingly large number of thorns stayed fastened to her instead.

She looked around, hoping to find a way to get back to her friends, but froze when she saw where she was. It was a hollow, carved into the stone. Around her was a large flat space, plenty large enough for a Clan, and easily defendable. Several tail-lengths away, there was another cliff, one that was much farther down than where she’d fallen.

A moment later she heard Brambleclaw calling, the desperation in his voice indicating it wasn’t his first try. “Squirrelflight!”

“I’m down here!” She looked up at where he was staying down at her.

“Squirrelflight!” he gasped. “Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not!” she meowed crossly. “I’ve got so many thorns in me I feel like a hedgehog. And I never caught that wretched vole. But I’ve found something amazing! Come and see.”

“Will we be able to get out again?”

Does he really think I’d be inviting him down here if we couldn’t? she thought wryly. “Honestly, Brambleclaw, are you a mouse? Get down here. You’ve got to see this.”

This is it. This is our new home.

*  *  *  *  *

The group watched Squirrelflight plunge into the bushes. For a heartbeat, her dark ginger fur was visible among the waving branches before it disappeared. A fading yowl came out of the bushes and then all was still.

“What happened?” exclaimed Tawnypelt.

Brambleclaw dashed toward the brambles, the vole forgotten. “Squirrelflight!” he yowled. “Squirrelflight, where are you?”

He pushed his way into the thorny branches.

“Careful!” Mistyfoot warned him from behind.

Brambleclaw scarcely heard her. Springy twigs slapped him across the face, and he felt a thorn sink into his pad. “Squirrelflight!” he called again. What would I do if I lost you?

“I’m down here!” the faint reply came from somewhere below.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked down and gasped. A tail-length in front of him the ground fell away sharply; another couple of pawsteps and he would have slipped over too.

Glancing back over his shoulder he saw Tawnypelt pressing up close behind him. “Stay back,” he warned. “There’s some sort of cliff here. Let me have a look first.”

Keeping his belly close to the ground, he crept forward until he could look over the edge. Remembering the gorge in the mountains where Foxpaw had fallen, he braced himself to see Squirrelflight’s broken body lying on stones far below. Instead, she was standing in a clump of brambles no more than three or four fox-lengths beneath him, staring up at him with wide green eyes.

“Squirrelflight!” he gasped. “Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not!” Squirrelflight meowed crossly. “I’ve got so many thorns in me I feel like a hedgehog. And I never caught that wretched vole. But I’ve found something amazing! Come and see.”

“Will we be able to get out again?”

Squirrelflight sighed. “Honestly, Brambleclaw, are you a mouse? Get down here. You’ve got to see this.”

Brambleclaw felt his fur prickle with excitement. He glanced back at the other members of the patrol. Tawnypelt was standing where he had left her. Mistyfoot and Crowfeather peered anxiously around her flank, while the others were farther back, since there wasn’t space for them at the front.

“Is Squirrelflight hurt?” Mistyfoot called.

“No, I think she’s fine,” Brambleclaw replied. “She wants me to go down there. Will you keep watch?”

Mistyfoot nodded, and Brambleclaw turned back to the cliff. When he looked at it closely, he saw that it wasn’t as sheer as the gorge. It was steep, but there were plenty of paw holds on jutting stones and tussocks of grass. Half slipping, half scrambling, he made his way down until he reached Squirrelflight, who was standing among the brambles looking rather disheveled, having pulled out most of the thorns caught in her pelt.

“There!” She spun around, impatiently twitching her tail. “See?”

Brambleclaw followed her gaze more slowly. They were standing on the edge of a bramble thicket; a wide grassy space stretched in front of them, surrounded by walls of stone. Where he and Squirrelflight had come down, the walls were fairly low, but on the opposite side of the clearing they stretched above their head for many fox-lengths.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t fall down on that side,” he meowed, pulling out the remaining thorns.

“Yes, I know, but don’t you see, Brambleclaw?” Squirrelflight demanded. “This is ThunderClan’s new camp!”

“What?”

“Look at it,” she insisted. “It’s perfect.”

Brambleclaw unhooked a bramble from his fur and padded into the center of the clearing. The stone walls rose all around him except for a gap not far away, which was choked with dead ferns and grass with whiskery, seedy stems. There were more bramble thickets all around him, and he could see one or two cracks that might lead to caves in the highest part of the wall. He could see what Squirrelflight meant. The place could make a good camp, but something about it spooked him all the same.

“I don’t know…”  he began, not wanting to crush Squirrelflight’s excitement but unable to ignore the disquiet that made his paws itch. “Look at the surface of the stone, how smoothly it’s been cut. Only Twolegs could have done that, and we can’t camp anywhere near Twolegs.”

“But that must have been ages ago,” she argued, coming to join him in the center of the clearing. “Look at the grass and bushes growing up the walls. They didn’t spring up overnight, did they? And there’s no scent of Twolegs.”

Brambleclaw tasted the air. She was right. No Twolegs had been there for a long time. She was right about the bushes, too. Twolegs must have cut out the stone–maybe to build their nests–and then gone away and left the hollow in the middle of the forest. In a way, it reminded him of the ravine that had sheltered the old ThunderClan camp. Perhaps that would make it feel like home to the Clan.

He forced himself to be calm. His Clanmates needed him to be strong, and not see danger in every shadow and stirring leaf. “It might do, I suppose.”

Squirrelflight flicked her ears. “Don’t get too enthusiastic, will you?” she mewed.

“I’m just wondering what it would be like to defend. That part over there would be fine”–he gestured with his tail to the highest, steepest wall–“but it’s pretty low where we came in. “And what about that gap?”

“Well, it’s an easier way in and out than the one we took just now! We can fill it in with thorns or something to keep out uninvited visitors.”

She bounded over and prowled through the long grass, sniffing here and there. Watching her, Brambleclaw felt a wave of homesickness sweep over him, and he closed his eyes. The feeling seemed to pick him up and swamp him like the waves at the sun-drown-place, and for a few heartbeats he thought he would drown in it. He wanted the old ThunderClan camp with its strong thorn walls and the gorse tunnel that was so easy to defend. He wanted to lie down in the warriors’ den among the thornbush, or visit Cinderpelt in her den among the soft green ferns. He wanted to eat fresh-kill by the nettle patch while the apprentices scuffled by their favorite tree stump, their fighting moves carefully imitated by the kits outside the nursery.

The pain of knowing he could never go back was almost too much for Brambleclaw to bear. The Twoleg monsters would have torn up every part of the camp by now, all the places that were so deep in his heart. It wasn’t fair! Why had StarClan let this happen?

The wind picked up, rattling the branches of the trees that surrounded the hollow and jolting Brambleclaw back to his surroundings. Taking a deep breath, he padded over to Squirrelflight, who was still nosing about in the gap between the walls.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re limping.”

“Oh–there’s a thorn in my pad.” He had almost forgotten about it.

“Lie down and let me look.”

When Brambleclaw obeyed, she licked experimentally at his pad and managed to get the end of the thorn between her teeth. With a sharp tug it came away.

“There,” Squirrelflight meowed. “Now give it a good lick.”

“Thanks. You’re nearly good enough to be a medicine cat!”

She gave a little mrrow of laughter. “Well, they’d have to change some parts of the code, then,” she purred. The laughter died from her eyes as she looked closely at him. “You don’t like it here, do you?”

“It’s not that.” Brambleclaw paused in rasping his tongue over his injured pad. “It’s just…well, I suppose I wanted to find a camp exactly like the one we left behind, in a ravine with gorse to keep out invaders…”

He trailed off, afraid Squirrelflight would think he was being ridiculous; instead she pressed her muzzle affectionately against his. “I miss it too,” she mewed quietly. “There isn’t a cat among ThunderClan or any of the Clans who doesn’t want their old homes back. But it’s gone now. StarClan has brought us to a new place, and we’ve got to find out how to live here. Don’t you think this hollow would make a good camp? Twolegs don’t come here, and there’s no sign of Thunderpaths.”

Gazing into her shining eyes, Brambleclaw knew that he had brought with him from the forest everything that was truly important. “You’re right,” he murmured, leaning into the warmth of her fur. “I couldn’t do this without you. You know that, don’t you?”

Squirrelflight’s tongue rasped gently over his ear. “Stupid furball.”

He returned the affectionate lick, then froze as he heard the sound of something approaching through the gap.

“Hi, there.” It was Crowfeather’s voice, muffled by a mouthful of prey. He shouldered the long grass aside as he came up to them and dropped the fresh-kill at their paws. “You’ve been so long, we started to think a fox might have gotten you.”

“No, we’re fine,” replied Brambleclaw.

“If fox had gotten me,” Squirrelflight added, “you would have heard about it, don’t worry.”

“I daresay we would,” Crowfeather meowed, pushing the vole toward them. “This is for you,” he went on. We hunted while we were waiting for you to come back. Well, technically, Mosspelt, Rowanclaw, and Nightcloud wenting hunting. They said something about wanting to form their own friends from other Clans group.”

Brambleclaw laughed. “Thanks, Crowfeather.”

The WindClan warrior acknowledged his thanks with a wave of his tail.

“Well, what do you think of the new ThunderClan camp?” Squirrelflight demanded.

“Here?” Crowfeather blinked, and turned slowly while the ThunderClan warriors shared the vole in swift, hungry bites. “I suppose it’s okay,” he meowed at last, “if you want to be closed in like this. It would be easy to defend, but it wouldn’t do for WindClan.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not offering it to WindClan,” Squirrelflight pointed out.

Crowfeather flicked his ears, a mischief filling his eyes. “So, how exactly did you find this incredible camp?” he meowed to her sarcastically.

She gave him a scowl. “I found it when I was chasing the vole.”

Brambleclaw laughed. “She means she fell into it.”

“Imagine a cat guessing that’s how you’d find it,” Crowfeather said dryly.

He looked around the hollow, and Brambleclaw wondered if he was worried about finding somewhere suitable for his Clan. Astral had promised they’d find it before they returned to the Clans; he was certain he could trust her. Now that they’d found this hollow, amid the right sort of woods for voles and squirrels and birds, Brambleclaw was starting to believe there might actually be territories for every Clan around the lake.

Tawnypelt and Mistyfoot padded into the hollow, tasting the air as they gazed around at the sheer walls of rock.

“No foxes or badgers,” Mistyfoot remarked. “Pretty sheltered, too.”

“All the same, you’ll need to be careful,” Tawnypelt urged Brambleclaw. “If Twolegs made this place, how do you know won’t come back?”

“Twolegs haven’t been here for seasons,” Squirrelflight replied calmly. “There’s no scent of them, and there wouldn’t be so much undergrowth if they were still cutting out the rock.”

But Tawnypelt’s words made Brambleclaw unsheathe his claws and sink them into the rain-damp ground. The memory of Twoleg monsters ripping through their old him was too recent; it was all too easy for him to imagine them coming here to cut more stone out of the hollow. And yet ThunderClan would be mouse-brained not to use a place that seemed to have nearly everything they would need for a safe and sheltered camp. In the end it was Firestar who would have to make the decision.

“Are you ready?” Mistyfoot interrupted his thoughts. “It’s way past sunhigh.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Where are the others?

“Astral led them to the edge of the forest, so they could get in some bonding away from us,” Tawnypelt replied. “She said all we had to do was follow her scent trail.”

Looking around, Brambleclaw tried to get his bearings. Not far away from the entrance to the hollow, he noticed that the ground sloped upward. “Come on,” he said, detecting the direction Astral had brought the others.

The rest of the patrol murmured agreement, and the cats padded side by side out of the hollow. As they pushed through the undergrowth, leaving the sheltering stone walls behind them, Squirrelflight paused and looked over her shoulder. “We’ll come back, won’t we?”

She spoke so quietly that Brambleclaw wasn’t sure if she was talking to him, but he replied anyway. “Yes,” he said, stretching forward to touch his muzzle to the tip of her ear. “I think we will.”

“Come on,” Crowfeather called. “We want to be back before it gets dark.” He didn’t add that they still had to find somewhere for WindClan to live, but Brambleclaw knew that it must be in his thoughts. Astral’s guidance wouldn’t matter if they ran out of time.

He trotted up the slope with Squirrelflight beside him, leaving the hollow to be swallowed up once more among the close-growing trees. Wet grass brushed at his fur, chilling him through, but above his head the clouds had cleared away to reveal the pale blue sky of leafbare. The sun shone, though there was little warmth in it.

Brambleclaw stopped and looked down at the sweep of leafless branches below. The stone hollow was totally hidden, safe an secret in the surrounding forest. Could it really become ThunderClan’s new camp? He had expected to feel more certain when he discovered somewhere his Clanmates might be able to live; he had though it would feel like home. Instead there was something oppressive about this place, as if the rocks themselves did not want to welcome the newcomers.

As they climbed, the trees began to thin out, and the dense undergrowth gave way to stretches of crisp fallen leaves. After a while, Brambleclaw saw glimpses of open moorland between the trunks, and soon they reached the edge of the forest, with the ridge of hills rolling away in front of them. The lake was a gleam of silver in the valley below. Straight ahead lay a gray-green swell of moorland grass, rippled by the wind. Gorse thickets were dotted over it, and Brambleclaw could hear the sound of running water. There could be no doubt that they had found a home for WindClan.

“Hey, Crowfeather!” he called. “What do you think?”

The WindClan warrior’s eyes gleamed, but he did not reply until he had opened his jaws and carefully tasted the air. “Rabbits!”

“Right, that’s WindClan sorted out,” Squirrelflight meowed. “Let’s get back to the others.”

Crowfeather shot her a look from narrowed eyes.

“Only joking,” Squirrelflight said hastily. “Come on; let’s find somewhere for your camp.”

Before they had gone more than a few pawsteps, they finally found the rest of the patrol. The three warriors were laughing about something, while Astral also looked faintly amused.

She looked up when they came to join them. “So you found a camp for your Clan.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a satisfied assertion.

“We did,” Brambleclaw confirmed.

“I am glad I was able to help,” Astral purred. “But now it is time for me to return home. My Twolegs are very understanding of my need to roam freely, but Holton and Carla will take advantage of my absence if they can.”

Mosspelt dipped her head to the brown-and-white she-cat. “Thank you for your help. I am honored to have met you.”

“And I enjoyed being in the company of warriors again,” Astral said. “I hope we will meet again soon.” She started to leave but turn back. “You should know that you would have found what you needed without my help. StarClan would have guided you one way or another.” She paused. “One other thing you should know is that Protectors can choose to reject their destiny. Whatever journey your Clans made, Spikekit could have left at any time. But she chose to continue on with you, even though it was dangerous.”

“StarClan guided us to you, and Spikekit to us,” Rowanclaw meowed. “May StarClan light your path.”

“Farewell, warriors.” Astral padded away, eventually disappearing in the trees.

The eight cats stood silently for a moment. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I may miss her,” Mistyfoot mewed after a moment.

“She was a blessing sent when we truly needed her,” Nightcloud agreed.

Brambleclaw looked around. He knew they needed to look for a camping place for WindClan, but already the sun was slipping down the sky, casting long shadows over the grass.

“We should get back to the others,” he began awkwardly. “I’m sorry. I don’t think we’ve time to explore these hills properly. Tallstar can send another patrol tomorrow to check out a site for your camp. I think we should head straight across the ridge to the end of the lake now.”

Crowfeather’s tail-tip twitched. For a few heartbeats he stood motionless, studying the sweep of hillside before lowering his head to sniff the grass. Brambleclaw worried that he was about to insist they explore further, but in the end he just meowed, “It’s okay. You’re right; we should be heading back.”

There was a guarded look in his eyes as he spoke, and Brambleclaw guessed he wasn’t sorry that cats from other Clans weren’t getting a chance to explore WindClan’s new territory first. Pain stabbed at the young tabby’s heart. Crowfeather was ferociously loyal to his Clanmates; it wasn’t surprising that he would be the first to start setting up the old barriers again.

“Astral said we would find a place here,” Nightcloud added. “I trust her. There is a home for us here, and it shouldn’t take long to find it once we bring our Clan.”

They started to follow the slope up to the top of the ridge, with the lake stretching out below them like a shining sheet of sky. Brambleclaw padded beside Squirrelflight, while Mosspelt, Nightcloud, and Rowanclaw walked together, gazing at this new stretch of territory. They climbed a shoulder of the hill to a stream that foamed over rocks and vanished into the trees they had left behind. They followed it up hill for a few fox-lengths until they came to stepping-stones where they could cross. A smaller stream joined it here, gurgling down a steep, grassy slope.

“We need to decide what to say about Astral,” Mistyfoot meowed after a while. The others looked at her, surprised. “She helped us find the ThunderClan and ShadowClan camps, but she’s also something that’s a bit difficult to explain.”

“All we have to say is that we were guided by a former warrior,” Brambleclaw replied.

Rowanclaw frowned. “She said she came here when she was six moons. That means she’d have been barely old enough to be apprenticed.”

“But she’s old enough now,” Crowfeather pointed out. “And she’s been protecting innocent cats from those two kittypets–I’d say that justifies us calling her a warrior.”

Mistyfoot nodded. “That’s fine with me. Does anyone disagree?” Surprisingly, no one argued, and they continued.

Before the reached the top of the hill, they came to a spot where the ground fell away, as if some enormous monster had taken a bit out of the hillside. But not a Twoleg monster, Brambleclaw realized; this hollow had been formed by time and weather alone. Boulders were scattered over the ground in the middle, while gorse and other shrubs grew thickly around the edges. Inside, it would be sheltered from the wind, but not as closed-in as the walls of stone that encircled the possible ThunderClan camp.

Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes. “What about that for your camp, Crowfeather?” he asked.

Crowfeather kneaded the ground in excitement as he looked down the slope. “It looks good,” he agreed. “We’ll check it out.”

“Are you sure?” Brambleclaw meowed. “I don’t think we should leave you on your own.”

“I’ll be fine,” Crowfeather promised, flexing his hind legs, ready to dash off. “There’s no scent of Twolegs or foxes. And we can find my own way back to the camp by the horseplace. I can smell those creatures from here!”

Before any of the others could argue, he streaked off down the hill. Brambleclaw watched him pause on the edge of the dip before plunging into the gorse cover, the trembling branches the only sign of where he had been a moment before.

Nightcloud followed him. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him out of trouble!” she  promised, before also disappearing beyond the gorse.

“I hope he’s right about the Twolegs and foxes,” murmured Mistyfoot, coming over to stand beside Brambleclaw.

Too late, he wondered if he should have consulted Mistyfoot before letting the WindClan cats go off on their own. He opened his mouth to defend them, but she stopped him, speaking gently to take any sting out of her words. “It’s all right, Brambleclaw. I can see how much respect these cats have for you. That’s something to be proud of, not to apologize for. Few cats are born leaders, but I think you are.”

He blinked at her, partly grateful and partly surprised. It seemed strange having a RiverClan cat make a judgment like that about him. He wondered if she thought Hawkfrost was a born leader too.

Suddenly a gust of wind buffeted them so hard that Brambleclaw’s eyes watered, and for a couple of heartbeats he thought it would sweep him off his paws. It brought a strong scent of horse with it. Shaking his head to clear away the tears, Brambleclaw spotted the horseplace at the far end of the ridge, and beyond it the small copse where the four Clans waited for the patrol to return.

“We’re almost there!” Squirrelflight exclaimed. She bounded forward, and the other cats followed, their paws flying over the smooth ground. It was much faster to travel out here than in the forest, and for a moment, Brambleclaw understood why WindClan cats ran more swiftly than any other, and seemed restless when they were closed in by ferns and tree trunks.

The sun was setting behind the pine trees, turning the surface of the lake to fire, as they trekked down the hill. They had just reached the bottom when Crowfeather and Nightcloud caught up, both cats panting.

“Well?” Squirrelflight demanded.

Crowfeather swiped his tongue around his jaws as if he had just swallowed a juicy piece of fresh-kill. His eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. “It’s great!” he mewed. “There’s a tunnel under one of the gorse bushes that looks as if it might lead to an old badger set, but the badgers are long gone. There’s not even any scent left.”

“You could use the set as a den,” Tawnypelt suggested.

Crowfeather sniffed. “WindClan cats sleep outside. Only badgers and rabbits live in burrows.”

“But we could make it into the nursery,” Nightcloud reminded him. “It would be a good place to shelter the kits.”

In twilight they slipped along the edge of the lake, past the fence of the horseplace. All of Brambleclaw’s senses were alert for dogs and Twolegs, but they saw nothing except for one huge horse looking over the fence. Squirrelflight jumped as it blew out a noisy breath, then hissed to hide how startled she had been.

Moments later they heard a loud meow coming out of the darkness. “Who’s there?” Stifled giggles faintly echoed immediately after.

“It’s okay, Hawkfrost, it’s only us,” Mistyfoot called.

The RiverClan warrior emerged from the shadows, his powerful shoulders flexing smoothly under his tabby pelt. “Leopardstar and the other leaders sent us to look out for you,” he meowed. “They’re all expecting you.”

“Us?” Mosspelt repeated.

A second later, a white shape exploded forward and streaked towards the WindClan cats. “Crowfeather!” a kit’s voice exclaimed.

Crowfeather purred. “It’s good to see you too, Darkkit,” he told the small figure wreathing around his legs.

“I missed you so much,” Darkkit mewed, rubbing against Nightcloud’s flank, loud purrs vibrating his entire body.

“And we missed you,” Nightcloud said. She licked his forehead gently.

“Can I stay with you two tonight?” he asked, sounding nervous. “Tallstar said he’s enjoyed my company but he doesn’t want me to have to watch him join StarClan. But I don’t want to bother Briarnose; she’s done so much for me.”

The two warriors exchanged sad looks. “Of course you can stay with us,” Crowfeather agreed. Under his breath, he added, “And Onewhisker should be there for his own son.”

Nightcloud stroked his should with her tail. “If he won’t, we will be.”

Spikekit had come too, though she was a bit calmer than the younger kit. “Welcome back,” she said to the patrol. “I hope StarClan gave you what you needed.”

“They did,” Brambleclaw answered. At least now we know why she sounds older than she is, he thought wryly. But I don’t think it’s something the Clans should know–at least not yet. “We managed to find camps for all four Clans.

“What does ThunderClan’s look like?”

Squirrelflight snorted. “You’ll find out when we tell everyone,” she told her.

Rowanclaw looked at her curiously. “Why were you two with Hawkfrost? I’m assuming that the leaders didn’t actually assign you to keeping watch.”

Hawkfrost snorted. “Spikekit hasn’t left my side since I came back from hunting yesterday.”

“Which means I got an early lesson,” Spikekit added. “But he needed me to go with him.”

“And why is that?” Mosspelt seemed curious as well.

Though Hawkfrost didn’t seem like he wanted the others to know, Spikekit told them anyways. “I told Ashfur that he shouldn't refuse to cheer at his Clanmates’ ceremonies and he snarled at me. Then Hawkfrost came over to stop him and Ashfur tried to attack him. It was crazy! If Ferncloud hadn’t stopped him, I think he would have done it.”

“He snarled at you?” Brambleclaw felt a ripple of fury pass through him. Then the reason Ashfur had done so made him pause. “What do you mean about him refusing to cheer at ThunderClan’s ceremonies?”

Squirrelflight answered this. “He didn’t cheer when Firestar made me a warrior. Every other cat did except him.”

Tawnypelt started walking off purposefully. “Excuse for a moment. I need to have some aggressive negotiations with Ashfur.”

Rowanclaw went after her and held out his tail to block her way. “As fun as that would be to watch, we really can’t afford to get into fights right now.”

Her fur bristled, but she nodded reluctantly. “Fine.”

“I’m sorry Ashfur almost attacked you,” Squirrelflight meowed to Hawkfrost. “I really don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. But thank you for watching out for Spikekit.”

He dipped his head. “She might not be part of RiverClan, but she’s a good kit.” Turning around, he said, “Now, please, everyone’s expecting you.”

Hawkfrost led them to the trees near the horseplace where the Clans had stopped to rest the day before. Firestar and Blackstar were talking together beside the tree stump, but otherwise the clearing looked deserted. Brambleclaw wondered where the others had gone.

As soon as the patrol appeared, Blackstar leaped up on the stump and let out a yowl. “Cats of all Clans! Gather around!”

At once, the shadowy shapes of cats began to appear out of hollows and clumps of long grass. One or two jumped down from low-hanging branches. Mudclaw pushed his way through his Clanmates from where he’d been with Tallstar and made his way to the stump. Leopardstar was there as well, and after a moment, Mudclaw stepped back to give her a spot on the stump, sitting at the base of it instead.

Firestar padded over to stand in front of Brambleclaw. “Welcome back,” he meowed, pride in his voice. “No trouble, I hope?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Brambleclaw replied. He glanced guiltily at Squirrelflight as he remembered the fight they had nearly lost against the kittypets.

“One of you had better come up on the stump so we can all hear you,” Firestar decided. “Mistyfoot, would you like to join us?”

She dipped her head. “Actually, Firestar, I think Brambleclaw should speak on behalf of the patrol. He has more experience with describing unknown places.”

Brambleclaw looked quickly at her, but there was no edge to her words. Instead, she stepped back to let him reach the tree stump. “Thanks,” he murmured as he went past. She nodded.

He bunched his hind legs beneath him and sprang onto the stump. It was a tight squeeze, and his flank brushed against Blackstar’s as he shuffled around to face the cats below. The ShadowClan leader drew away with the faintest hiss, and Brambleclaw tried not to let the hostility ruffle his fur. His heart pounded at the thought of describing the long journey around the lake to all four Clans. The cats gazed up at him, and Brambleclaw could feel their hunger for his news pulsing through the air. Briefly, he wondered if this was what it was like to be a Clan leader with every cat hanging on his words.

Then he heard Dustpelt’s voice raised impatiently above the rustle of the branches overhead. “Get on with it, Brambleclaw! Tell us what you found.”

Brambleclaw swallowed uncomfortably, wondering where to start. He couldn’t say that choosing a new home was not all he had hoped for. In spite of Midnight’s directions, the dying warrior, the starlight reflected in the lake, he didn’t feel as if the Clans truly belonged in this territory. It was too easy to imagine Twoleg monsters tearing through the woods, turning the ground to mud and shattering the walls of the stone hollow until the newly built ThunderClan dens were exposed to the sky, and every cat was as helpless as a newborn kit…

But that wasn’t what the Clans wanted to hear, and none of the other cats on the patrol had seemed to doubt that this was where they belonged now. They could be right, Brambleclaw told himself firmly. They had proved that the Clans could live here; what more could he expect?

“It’s good news,” he began, taking a deep breath. “We have found territories that are suitable for all the Clans–reeds and water for RiverClan, pine forest for ShadowClan, leafy woods for ThunderClan, and moorland for WindClan.”

As murmurs of excitement broke out, Leopardstar called, “What about prey?”

“There seems to be plenty,” Brambleclaw replied, “given that it’s leafbare. We didn’t go hungry, that’s for sure.”

“And Twolegs?” queried another cat–Brambleclaw thought it was a ShadowClan warrior, but he couldn’t be sure.

“We saw some evidence that they visit the lake, but there are none there now,” he meowed. “Mistyfoot thinks there’ll be more of them around in greenleaf. That’s when they used to bring their kits to swim in the river, back in the forest.”

He noticed several of the cats glance anxiously at each other, and felt the familiar tremor of fear at the thought of what Twolegs had brought to the forest, apart from their kits. He was relieved when Mistyfoot added, “We’ll be able to keep out of their way. They won’t be a big problem.”

“Well…that’s all.” Brambleclaw wasn’t sure what else to say. “Maybe each of us should tell our own Clans what we saw in more detail.”

“We need to decide where the boundaries will be,” Blackstar growled.

“Right,” meowed Firestar from where he was sitting at the base of the stump, next to Mudclaw. “We can do that when we have a clearer idea of each territory. Thanks, Brambleclaw.”

Brambleclaw dipped his head gratefully at his leader; he may have led his friends to the sun-drown-place and back again, and explored the territory, but around the other leaders, he knew he wasn’t ready to be in charge of a Clan. His fur prickled, and he noticed Hawkfrost staring at him from the edge of the cats seated around the stump. Twitching his ears with surprise, Brambleclaw jumped down. Unsure what to expect from this, he braced himself.

To his surprise, there was a friendly gleam in his half-brother’s blue eyes.

“Thanks for finding the new territories,” Brambleclaw,” he meowed. “I’m sorry that we’ll be going our separate ways. I’d have liked to get to know you and Tawnypelt.”

Brambleclaw blinked. Did his half-brother really feel something like kinship with him? If they’d been members of the same Clan, might they have been friends like Firestar and Graystripe, who had risked their lives for each other countless times?

“We still can,” he said. “We’ll have chances to talk at Gatherings.”

“Brambleclaw, we need to talk to Firestar.” Squirrelflight padded up, staring at Hawkfrost with a searching expression. “He and the others are waiting for us.”

Hawkfrost dipped his head. “Of course. Leopardstar will be waiting for me as well.”

“What did he want to talk to you about?” Squirrelflight asked when Hawkfrost was out of earshot.

Brambleclaw sighed. “He said he wished he’d gotten a chance to know me and Tawnypelt.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about him,” Squirrelflight admitted. “Back in the forest he was arrogant and a bit harsh, but ever since we left, he’s been different. Calmer, kinder.”

“I’d noticed that too,” he meowed.

“Mistyfoot said he was close with Feathertail before she left,” Squirrelflight remembered. “And Mosspelt said he was completely loyal to RiverClan, but he felt extra pressure to prove himself because of who his parents were.”

Brambleclaw sighed again. “I know exactly how that feels. It took me directly rejecting Tigerstar before your father seemed to completely trust me. Even now, I feel my father’s shadow around me.”

“You are not Tigerstar.” Squirrelflight’s voice was confident and determined. “Tawnypelt isn’t Tigerstar either; neither is Hawkfrost or Mothwing. Each of you has your own path to follow. Who you are depends on the choices you make along that path.”

“Do you think I shouldn’t try to get to know him?” Brambleclaw whispered.

“I think you deserve to know all the family you have. What you were talking about before with the others was right. Hawkfrost deserves a better support system.”

He gave her a grateful lick. “What does Leafpaw think about him?”

She shrugged. “Leafpaw isn’t sure what to think of him. When we left to explore the lake, she didn’t trust him at all, but I think something changed while we were gone.”

“Spikekit trusts him.”

“Not only does she trust him, she seems to think he needs her protection from Ashfur–though I’m not sure how well a kit can protect anyone,” Squirrelflight said thoughtfully.

“Did he really not cheer at your warrior ceremony?” Brambleclaw demanded. She shook her head sadly. “Excuse me for a moment.”

With an amused snort, she blocked his path, much like Rowanclaw had done to Tawnypelt earlier. “We have more important things to worry about right now–like bringing ThunderClan to its new home.”

“Fine. But I’m going to talk to Hawkfrost later and ask him the full story about what happened. Do you trust him?”

She met his gaze squarely. “I’m not sure I trust him, though I don’t know him that well. But I trust you more than any cat, so whatever you decide, I’ll accept.” Flicking his shoulder with her tail, she turned and headed towards the rest of their Clan.

Warmth flooded Brambleclaw’s pelt. Being trusted by other cats was still a new feeling to him. But trust from Squirrelflight was special, like a clear stream on a hot greenleaf day, and he valued it. I won’t let you down.

Chapter Text

When Brambleclaw had finished speaking and leaped down from the tree stump, Leafpaw looked around for Squirrelflight. She was dying to hear about their new territory, and to know if her sister had found any useful herbs.

She spotted Sorreltail and bounded over to join her friend, who gave her a smile and a nod in greeting. “Have you seen Squirrelflight?”

The tortoiseshell warrior shook her head.

Leafpaw was about to keep looking when a burst of warmth flooded her like a river. She tilted her head, confused for a moment. Something had made Squirrelflight very happy, and she could guess what it was. The patrol had come safely home, and it sounded as if there were territories for all the Clans around the lake.

“Everything okay?” Sorreltail asked.

“What? Oh, yes, fine,” Leafpaw assured her friend. “I just need to ask Squirrelflight something.”

“I’ll help you look,” she offered, touching Leafpaw’s shoulder with her muzzle. “I can’t wait to hear about our new home!”

Leafpaw nodded and began to weave her way through the other cats, searching for the familiar dark ginger pel. She felt a rush of relief when she spotted her sister with some other ThunderClan cats, her tail waving animatedly as she explained something to them. It was obvious that she was excited.

She padded over with Sorreltail beside her.

“It’s a stone hollow, with walls all around, Squirrelflight was mewing. “There’s plenty of space inside for dens, the nursery, even a training area.” Her eyes were warm and bright.

“Is this hollow empty?” Dustpelt asked. He was sitting in front of Squirrelflight wit Ferncloud at his side; Birchkit was rolling around in the grass with Tallpoppy’s kits, all far too excited to sleep. Spiderpaw and Whitepaw were watching them, both keeping one ear angled towards Squirrelflight so they could hear as well. “It would be just like you, Squirrelflight, to expect us to camp in a badger’s set.”

Squirrelflight’s tail curled up indignantly. “Dustpelt, I promise I’ll eat any badgers you find in there. Foxes, too. We didn’t scent anything like that.”

Dustpelt grunted, though there was affection for his former apprentice in his eyes.

“I think it sounds great.” Brightheart stepped up to Squirrelflight and pressed her muzzle against the younger warrior’s side encouragingly. “How did you find it?”

“I…well, I fell into it,” Squirrelflight admitted.

Of course you did, Leafpaw thought, amused.

Cloudtail let out a snort of laughter. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Now look–” Squirrelflight spun around to face the white warrior, but before she could say any more, a yowl rose into the air.

“Cats of all Clans!”

Leafpaw turned to see that Cinderpelt had climbed onto the stump, moonlight turning her gray fur silfver. She signaled with her tail for silence, and the excited mewing gradually died away.

“Before we separate and go into our territories,” her mentor meowed, “we must decide where we’re going to hold the next Gathering. StarClan will expect us to meet together when full moon comes.”

“But where?” asked Russetfur. “Did the patrols find anywhere like Fourtrees?”

Mistyfoot, who was sitting near the base of the stump, rose to her paws. “No,” she replied, raising her voice so all the cats could hear her. “Nowhere like that, but with didn’t have time to explore everywhere properly.”

“StarClan will show us a place.” Littlecloud spoke up from where he was sitting beside Russetfur and Blackstar.

“They have shown us already.” Mothwing sprang to her paws, her amber eyes shining. She began to describe the island close to the shore of the lake. “It’s safe, sheltered, and not too far away. Perfect for Gatherings,” she finished.

“But we’d have to swim to get there!” The protest came from Mousefur, a ThunderClan warrior. “I’m not swimming in that lake every full moon, not if StarClan themselves come down and beg me.”

“And what about the elders?” croaked Runningnose, the former ShadowClan medicine cat.

A chorus of agreement rose up. Leafpaw glanced worriedly from one face to another. Not one cat seemed to show any enthusiasm for Mothwing’s suggestion.

Hawkfrost, for once not accompanied by Spikekit, padded over to stand next to Mothwing. “I trust my sister’s judgment,” he announced. “She has been trained as both a medicine cat and a warrior and reached full status in both. And she was trained by Mudfur, who taught her everything he knew.” His voice softened as grief entered his mew. “Will you doubt his judgment in choosing her?”

Mothwing shot him a surprised, but grateful look, and Leafpaw realized that now was the time to tell them about her vision. “Cats of all Clans!” she began. “I can confirm that what Mothwing says is true. I had a vision that proves StarClan intends for the island to be our meeting place for Gatherings.”

“Oh, fantastic,” Blackclaw snorted. “The second most inexperienced medicine cat and the youngest. Why should we believe you? Surely StarClan would have communicated to Barkface or Cinderpelt about this.”

Leafpaw was about to defend herself, but Barkface spoke up first. “I was not with the medicine cats when they met and Leafpaw has this vision, but she can be trusted. Young as she might be, this apprentice possesses one of the strongest connections to StarClan I’ve ever seen. If she says that StarClan told her island is where we will meet, then she speaks the truth.”

Nightwing spoke up. “What did StarClan say?”

Leafpaw took a deep breath and felt a tail stroke her reassuringly. She turned to see Firestar. “Go on,” he murmured.

“I was with the medicine cats on the shore across from the island. We were discussing whether or not we’d be able to use the island for Gatherings. Then the sun flashed like lightning and a shadow fell directly across the water between us and the island. Feathertail came to me and told me that StarClan is still with us and we would find everything we need here. She also mentioned crossing the lake without getting wet, which Mothwing recognized as referring to a bridge.”

“So what exactly does this vision mean?” Onewhisker grumbled. “I see no bridge here.”

Cinderpelt cleared her throat. “This vision is clear. StarClan will make a bridge for us to use. All we have to do is trust them.”

Mudclaw spoke up. “I trust our ancestors, so if the rest of the Clans agree, I suggest that we meet here at the shore to the island. If StarClan wants us to meet there, they will provide us a way to get there.”

“What about Twolegs?” Kinkpaw of ShadowClan asked. “Aren’t we still close to that Twoleg nest on the other side of the horseplace?”

“That can’t be helped,” Blackstar said gently, and Firestar nodded.

“We’ve been here for two days and nights now and we haven’t had so much as a sniff of a Twoleg. I think it should be fine.”

“Besides, if StarClan provides us with a bridge, we won’t have to be there long anyway,” Leopardstar added.

The cats began to slip away from the tree stump, back into the shadows. Ferncloud signaled with her tail for Birchkit to come to her. “It’s time you got some sleep, little one. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

Birchkit abandoned his play fight with Tallpoppy’s kits and Spikekit and bounced over. “Can Toadkit and Applekit and Marshkit come too?” he asked.

“No, we belong to ShadowClan,” Tallpoppy explained gently. “We’ll have our own territory now.”

“But that’s not fair! ” Birchkit wailed, and four of the kits clustered together, gazing at the two queens with huge, pleading eyes. “If they can’t come, I don’t want to go.”

Leafpaw flinched. They were so innocent! They had no idea how different their lives had been from the lives of their older Clanmates. Their earliest memories would be the horror of starving in the forest, every cat fearing for its life, until they found new friends when the Clans came together for the exhausting trek through the mountains. They had no sense of Clan rivalry, or the importance of being a warrior in service of one Clan alone. They probably hardly knew there were four Clans at all.

“Don’t be so silly.” Ferncloud padded over to her kit and gave his ears a sympathetic lick. “That’s the warrior code. When you’re apprentices you’ll meet again at Gatherings.”

“It won’t be the same,” Toadkit muttered, with a mutinous look at his mother.

“And there are no other ThunderClan kits for me to play with,” Birchkit added sadly.

Applekit bent over to whisper in his ear, so quietly that Leafpaw had to strain to hear, “We’ll just have to sneak out to see each other.” I’m sure that’ll go well, Leafpaw thought in amusement.

Ferncloud and Tallpoppy looked at each other, and Leafpaw saw genuine regret in their eyes–it wasn’t just their kits who had made strong friendships across Clan boundaries.

Finally Tallpoppy dipped her head and gathered her kits around her with a sweep of her tail. “Say goodbye now,” she mewed briskly.

“Goodbye,” Toadkit and Marshkit chorused. Before Tallpoppy could stop her, Applekit darted up to Birchkit and touched her nose to his. “Goodbye,” she whispered.

Birchkit stared after his leaving friends. Desperately, he turned towards Spikekit. “What about you?” he meowed quietly. “Can’t you come?”

She sighed. “I can’t join you yet. The last part of the journey is for the Clans alone to make.”

“But you said that ThunderClan was your destiny!”

“It is,” Spikekit admitted. “But there is someone else I will need to bring with me. You must be strong. I will see you soon.”

Leafpaw watched in surprise. I knew something was off about Spikekit, but this makes no sense at all.

Looking completely devastated, Birchkit stared after his friends, who were padding away sadly. Spiderpaw came and sat down next to you. “I know it won’t be the same as having other kits around, but I’ll play with you any time,” the long-limbed apprentice offered.

“Really?” Birchkit’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean it?”

Spiderpaw nodded. “I promise,” he said. “I’m your big brother after all.” He smiled when Birchkit threw himself against his flank, purring wildly.

Whitepaw came to join them, twining her tail with Spiderpaw’s. “You know, Birchkit, I used to play with Spiderpaw when we were kits. We made up some of the best games, and I can show you how to win them all.”

“You would do that?”

“That’s not fair!” Spiderpaw growled playfully. “I think he should figure them out all on his own.”

“Well, I don’t,” Birchkit purred. He pulled himself onto Whitepaw’s back. “Teach me everything you know,” he ordered.

Leafpaw felt her heart ease at the thought that the lonely kit wouldn’t be so lonely, though she still ached for all the cats who would miss friends they had made in other Clans. A couple of tail-lengths away she spotted Thornclaw saying good-bye to Ashfoot and Onewhisker from WindClan; he jumped guiltily when he saw Leafpaw watching, as if he had been disloyal to his Clan by becoming friends with them.

“It’s okay,” Leafpaw meowed, padding over to touch noses with the ThunderClan warrior. “It’s hard to give up new friends like this.” I’m one of the lucky ones, she thought gratefully. I can still be friends with Mothwing. Clan divisions weren’t so important to medicine cats, especially where the other medicine cats were concerned.

She decided to go and ask Cinderpelt if there was anything she could do to help the cats prepare for tomorrow. As she wove her way through the other cats, she came across Crowfeather standing over a WindClan elder, a skinny tom with creamy brown fur, who was comfortably curled up in a nest of dry leaves underneath a tree.

“Look, Rushtail,” Crowfeather was meowing frustratedly, “WindClan is gathering farther down the hill. If you stay here, you’ll get mixed up with ThunderClan.”

“So? ThunderClan never did me any harm,” rasped the elder. “I’m not moving a pawstep from here, young fellow, until I’ve had something to eat.”

Crowfeather rolled his eyes. “Great StarClan!”

“Can I help?” Leafpaw offered, wondering if Rushtail was being stubborn, or if he really felt too weak to move. She might be able to find some herbs that would help restore his strength, like the travelling herbs they used to eat before journeying to the Moonstone.

Crowfeather turned around with a surprised expression on his face. “Leafpaw! Er, yes, I’d appreciate the help. Rushtail may have served WindClan well, and I respect that, but right now we really have to join the rest of our Clan. Plus, Darkkit and Nightcloud are waiting for me.”

Leafpaw gave a mrrow of amusement. “Elders really are the same in all the Clans,” she commented wryly.

She bent down to sniff the WindClan elder, but he’d forced himself to his paws. “You’re taking care of Darkkit tonight?” 

Crowfeather nodded. “Tallstar was worried about Darkkit seeing him join StarClan, which isn’t something a kit should ever have to see, and Darkkit didn’t want to be a burden to Briarnose. I watched over him a couple times on the journey, so I don’t mind.” He led the way back to the WindClan cats.

“You show great honor in looking out for the little one,” Rushtail purred. “Mind you, Onewhisker should be spending time with his own kit. He’s been so different since your father died. Deadfoot was his mentor, you know.”

“I know,” Crowfeather replied. “And Briarnose doesn’t seem Darkkit as a burden at all. The poor thing feels so unsure because he’s being rejected. I won’t let him be alone.”

Leafpaw brushed against him comfortingly. “He’s not alone. Pretty much all of WindClan has warmed up to him since he started keeping Tallstar company, and I know for a fact that the elders in other Clans wish their own kits would do the same.”

Rushtail nodded. “You tell Darkkit that if he ever feels lonely, he can join Morningflower and I in the elders’ den…wherever that ends up.”

“I will, Rushtail, thank you.” Crowfeather told the elder. Once they made sure Rushtail had settled down next to Morningflower and Whitetail, he gave Leafpaw a parting lick and went to find Nightcloud and Darkkit.

“Leafpaw, are you coming?”

She turned to see Sorreltail bounding over to her, followed by Rainwhisker and Sootfur. “Was that Crowfeather?” she asked. “His tongue’s as sharp as a fox’s teeth. Is he giving you trouble? I’ll sort him out for you.” Her amber eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Or better yet, I could tell Squirrelflight and she can have a discussion with him like she used to with Brambleclaw.”

“You mean an argument, ” Leafpaw corrected, touching her friend’s shoulder with the tip of her tail. “And he and I are friends, you know. I was helping him get Rushtail to join the WindClan cats. We had a lovely conversation about how Crowfeather is watching out for Darkkit, since Onewhisker refuses to, and Darkkit feels like a burden on Briarnose.”

“Crowfeather’s watching out for the little guy?” Rainwhisker said. “Then he’s all right in my book. Anyone who takes in kits who aren’t their own is basically a StarClan cat in the living world.”

Sootfur nodded. “Yeah, like how Ferncloud and Brightheart watched over us after Willowpelt died…” His voice trailed off, and Leafpaw guessed he didn’t want to think about that day.

Sorreltail shook herself briskly. “Anyways, Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight made a small pile of leaves to sleep in and they said there was enough space for us. Care to join?”

“Is Brackenfur going to be there?” Leafpaw teased.

Sootfur snorted. “He’s sleeping with his littermates.”

“I’m glad the journey has made them closer,” Rainwhisker noted. “I can’t imagine what things would be like without having these two with me.”

“Well, you won’t have to find out,” Sorreltail promised. “Now, come on.” She headed towards a small, sheltered patch of ground that was covered in leaves. The familiar scents of Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight greeted Leafpaw and she purred.

Leafpaw made her way over to where Squirrelflight was and lay down, pressing against her sister. Squirrelflight gave a sleepy murmur and turned so she was lying even closer, the warmth from her pelt seeping into Leafpaw. Brambleclaw was lying in such a way that he could keep an eye out for anyone coming, just like he had their first night at the lake. Sorreltail flopped down against Leafpaw’s other side, with Sootfur and Rainwhisker next to her.

I’m going to miss this, Leafpaw realized. There was something reassuring about sleeping surrounded by cats she could trust. As a medicine cat, she’d share a den with just Cinderpelt unless cats were sick or injured.

The warmth of the gathered cats made her sleepy and she closed her eyes. The last thing she heard was Squirrelflight’s familiar quiet snoring.

Chapter Text

It was cold. Crowfeather felt a sense of unease in the air around him. A tail-tip gently touched his shoulder and he looked up to see Barkface.

“It’s time,” the elderly medicine cat murmured. “Tallstar wants to see you.”

His voice was quiet, but it woke Darkkit and Nightcloud nonetheless. “Is he going to join StarClan?”

“Yes,” Crowfeather meowed gently.

“I want to say goodbye,” Darkkit mewed.

Nightcloud shifted her paws. “Tallstar didn’t want you see him like this.”

“He didn’t want me to see him join StarClan,” Darkkit argued. “I’ll just say goodbye and then leave. Please?”

Crowfeather exchanged a glance with Nightcloud, who nodded and looked at Barkface. “It’s alright with me,” Barkface agreed with a nod. He turned and headed for where Firestar lay with Sandstorm.

The others crossed the open ground to the gorse bush where Tallstar lay dying. Its outer branches swept the ground, and there was no sign of any cats at first, but as they approached, Crowfeather heard the sound of harsh, uneven breathing. Ducking down, he peered through a gap to see Tallstar stretched out on his side in a nest of dead leaves, Mudclaw and Onewhisker crouched above him.

The younger warrior inhaled sharply when he saw his son and turned away with a hiss. Crowfeather felt a surge of anger but forced it down. This was not the time to deal with Onewhisker.

Firestar came up behind them with Barkface. “Firestar’s here, he meowed, stepping back to let the ThunderClan leader enter. He followed slowly behind, his tail curled around Darkkit.

“Is that Darkkit?” Tallstar asked weakly. “I didn’t want to him to see me like this. Death is not something a kit should witness.”

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Darkkit mewed. He crept forward and buried his nose in Tallstar’s flank. “Thank you for taking me in. I promise to take care of WindClan when you leave.”

Tallstar purred faintly. “I know you will. You have more loyalty in you than most cats. I’m going to miss you.”

Darkkit stayed pressed against Tallstar for another moment, then his shoulders drooped. “I’m ready now,” he said to Nightcloud.

She dipped her head. Brushing her muzzle lightly against Tallstar, she whispered, “May StarClan welcome you with honor.” Standing up, she guided Darkkit out of the gorse bush with her tail draped around his shoulders. Sadness made the kit’s limbs hang heavily.

“Come, all of you,” Tallstar instructed. Crowfeather flattened himself against the ground and crept under the low branches beside him. It pained him to see his leader fighting for breath, exhaustion resisting every effort to raise his head.

But in the faint moonlight that filtered through the branches, Tallstar’s eyes shone with the light of StarClan. “Firestar, I must thank you,” he rasped. “You have saved my Clan.”

Firestar gave a murmur of protest.

“And Crowfeather…” Tallstar went on. “As only an apprentice, you faced a journey and trials that would have made a leader pause. You found a place for us, facing dangers no cat has seen before. And you did what so few cats can allow themselves to do: you made friends within other Clans, which will only make you stronger. I am so proud of you.”

Mudclaw nodded. “As am I,” he said. “It was an honor to be your mentor."

Crowfeather gasped. To be praised by Tallstar was one thing, but to receive it from Mudclaw meant a lot. His former mentor, though fair, had been strict, and any praise he gave meant that he had truly earned it.

He dipped his head to his leader and deputy. “It wasn’t just me–I could never have done this alone. It as all of us together.”

“You’re tiring yourself, Tallstar.” Firestar’s voice was gentle. “You need to rest.”

“Rest will do me no good now,” his leader meowed.

Barkface bent down and sniffed him carefully. “I’m afraid he’s right. There’s nothing any cat can do for him now.”

To Crowfeather’s relief, Firestar did not try to pretend that there was any hope he would get better. That wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. “You will be a noble addition to the ranks of StarClan,” he told him. He crouched down so he could press his muzzle to Tallstar’s.

“Before then…before then I must say…” Tallstar started to choke, and his paws scrabbled in the dried leaves.

Barkface placed some kind of berry in front of Tallstar’s muzzle. “Please, eat this,” he urged him. “It can’t save you, but it will at least ease your breathing.”

Tallstar nodded and managed to chew and swallow it. The pain in his expression faded and he relaxed. “Thank you, old friend.”

Seeing there was nothing else he could do, Barkface lay down next to him, pressing against his pelt as if he thought the dying leader would freeze.

“Before I go to StarClan, there is something I must do.” Tallstar’s voice was stronger now. “Mudclaw you are a strong and brave warrior. I have watched you lead WindClan in my absence, and I know you will take care of them. But I must advise you to keep peace with the other Clans. The future of the Clans must not lie in war and bloodshed but in peace. We must not be enemies while we are still settling into the territories.”

Crowfeather saw Firestar exchange a glance with Onewhisker; both cats seemed uncomfortable at the thought of this ideal, which probably wouldn’t last long. It was natural for the Clans to be rivals–it was even part of the warrior code. So where was Tallstar going with this?

“I offer some advice to you, Mudclaw,” Tallstar advised. “Leading a Clan is something no cat can do alone. There is a reason the leader is to choose a deputy to help and support them. But the best deputies aren’t afraid to challenge their leaders, to think differently and fill in their own unique strengths where the leaders do not have them. At one point, I would have suggested Onewhisker.”

Onewhisker gasped in surprise. “Me?”

“You are friends with Firestar and would have tempered Mudclaw’s determination and strength. But now I know that you can never lead WindClan.”

Shock filled the brown cat’s eyes. “Why?”

It was Firestar who answered, apparently guessing what Tallstar was going to say. “Because of Darkkit.”

“Exactly,” Tallstar agreed. “You proved that would never make a good leader when you decided to abandon your mate and your son.”

Onewhisker frowned. “I didn’t abandon–”

Tallstar cut him off. “You might have brought him here, but you refuse to acknowledge him as your son. He continues to seek your love and approval, something he shouldn’t have to fight for, and you treat him like he’s just a piece of crowfood.” His voice intensified. “A leader and deputy must show respect to everyone in the Clan. And by failing as a father, you have shown that you will fail as deputy.”

Realization shone in Mudclaw’s eyes. “You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you.”

“Yes.” The answer was so simple Crowfeather wasn’t sure if Tallstar would continue. “When I was an apprentice, WindClan had a rank besides warrior. We had tunnelers, cats who could dig and navigate the burrows and tunnels beneath the moore. My parents were both tunnelers, and father expected me to follow in his pawsteps. But I knew the tunnels were no place for me, and so did WindClan’s previous leader Heatherstar. When I couldn’t bring myself to be in the tunnels, my father basically abandoned me, decided I wasn’t worthy to be his son. And that’s exactly what you’ve done to Darkkit. So you can never lead this Clan.”

“I promise I’ll do better,” Onewhisker meowed hurriedly. “I can be a good father.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” Mudclaw growled. “Tallstar is right. Even if you change now, it will only be because you want a position you do not deserve.” He turned to Tallstar. “I promise I will follow your wishes.”

Tallstar took as deep of a breath as he could. “Crowfeather, I have seen how you are looking after Darkkit. I know that I do not have to ask this but I will do so anyway. Please continue to watch over him. He will need someone to look out for him.”

Crowfeather dipped his head. “It will be my honor.”

Tallstar let out a sigh. His glittering, star-filled gaze traveled from his Clanmates to Firestar. “I am grateful to have brought the Clan this far. Mudclaw, I know that you will lead our Clan well, and I will be watching over you from StarClan.”

“I’ll do my best, Tallstar,” Mudclaw murmured. He touched his muzzle to Tallstar’s ear.

Onewhisker stretched out a paw Tallstar’s shoulder, but Tallstar’s head had slipped down into the leaves. His eyes closed, and his breathing became quick and shallow.

Crowfeather felt a faint breeze and heard the murmur of pawsteps. Something brushed his pelt, and he saw starlight reflected in Firestar’s eyes. A few seconds later, four sleek-furred flanks swept against against him, their starlit shapes filling the tiny den.

One was a ginger-furred tom, nearly identical to Firestar. He didn’t look like a warrior, but he stood beside the ThunderClan leader and pressed his muzzle against his. “You have done well, my son,” the cat murmured. Turning to Tallstar he added, “Thank you for watching out for my son.” Shock filled Crowfeather. Tallstar knew Firestar’s father? How is that possible?

The second cat was a dark brown tom with yellow eyes. He stood next to Barkface, his eyes warm. “Shrewclaw!” Barkface gasped. “You came to lead Tallstar to StarClan?”

“Oh please, brother,” Shrewclaw purred. “They made me.”

“No, they didn’t,” Barkface snorted. “You chose to come.”

Shrewclaw shrugged. “He was there for me when I died. I merely wanted to return the favor.” He knocked his shoulder against Barkface’s.

The last two cats, a small, pale pinkish-gray she-cat Crowfeather recognized from Deadfoot’s stories as Heatherstar, WindClan’s leader before Tallstar, and a dark brown she-cat with white stripes stood with Mudclaw above Tallstar.

“StarClan looks forward to giving you nine lives,” Heatherstar said to the deputy. “We will make sure the Clans find the place they need to communicate with us properly, since we will be unable to come in numbers like this again.”

The other she-cat gave Tallstar a gentle lick. “Come, my old apprentice, it is time for you to go.”

Barkface nodded to her. “Watch over him, Dawnstripe.”

She nodded. “We will. StarClan will be with you all.”

The starlit cats turned to pad away. Tallstar released one final breath, and then his body fell still. His spirit stood up, and he joined the others, bounding and leaping into the sky like a young cat once again.

The den fell still and silent. Crowfeather closed his eyes, feeling a new pang of grief at the loss of his wise, kind leader. WindClan is going home, but Tallstar has another journey to take.

“Tallstar walks with StarClan now,” Barkface murmured. His eyes were dark with sadness. “He will be watching over us.”

Crowfeather looked away. Tallstar had been WindClan’s leader for long time. He had been a noble cat, and nothing would be the same now that he was gone.

After a few moments, Firestar curled his tail to touch Onewhisker on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Onewhisker raised his head, his eyes filled with a chaos of grief and confusion. “He doesn’t believe in me anymore.”

“Then prove him wrong.” Mudclaw walked over to stand with Crowfeather. “If you want to regain his trust, and mine, then do your job and be a father to your son. Crowfeather is watching over him, but he is not old enough to be his father.”

An unreadable expression filled Onewhisker’s eyes. “I have no son. Darkkit ruined everything for me, and I will not reward him for it.”

Rage exploded inside Crowfeather and he opened his mouth to snarl at the other warrior. Before he could, Mudclaw thrust his tail in front of his muzzle. “I can’t force you to do this, Onewhisker. Please reconsider.”

Onewhisker hissed and stalked from the den.

“How could he do that?” Crowfeather spat as soon as Mudclaw lowered his tail. “How could he reject his own son?”

“Because he is angry and guilty and devastated,” Mudclaw replied softly. “I fear what this will mean for Darkkit.”

Crowfeather steadied his racing heartbeat. “I won’t let him get hurt.”

“I know you won’t. And neither will I.” It was Nightcloud. She was standing at the entrance to the den. Darkkit wasn’t with her. Crowfeather gave her a questioning look. “Spikekit said you would need me, and Briarnose is giving Darkkit a bath. He’s not all that fond of it. Thinks he can do it himself.”

“How much of that did you hear?” he asked.

She sighed. “Enough to know that Onewhisker disowned his own son. I’m glad Darkkit wasn’t there to hear.”

“He’ll figure it out soon enough,” Barkface noted.

“Well, I’m not leaving him,” Crowfeather growled.

Firestar cleared his throat. “It’s time to tell the others,” he meowed.

Mudclaw nodded. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” He led the way to the clearing and leaped up on the stump. “Cats of all Clans! Gather to hear the news I have to tell you.”

All around the clearing, cats stirred in their makeshift nests, like a ripple in long grass when wind passed over it. From close by, some cat muttered crossly, “What does he want? Can’t he let us sleep in?”

Mudclaw repeated the call until one by one the cats slipped out of their temporary dens and crept forward until they surrounded the stump.

Squirrelflight padded over sleepily with Brambleclaw, her jaws gaping in a huge yawn. “What’s happening? What does Mudclaw want?”

“It’s best you hear it from him,” Crowfeather meowed. He felt relieved when her eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh no,” she mewed sadly. She sat down next to him, gently touching his ear with her tail.

“Cats of all Clans, I have some very sad new,” Mudclaw began. “Tallstar has gone to join StarClan.”

“Tallstar’s dead!” exclaimed Tornear. “He became leader before I was born. What will happen to WindClan without him?”

Beside him, his apprentice, Owlpaw, bowed his head, too overcome to speak. Mosspelt touched the young cat on his shoulder with the tip of her tail. “He was a noble cat,” she murmured. “He will be welcomed by StarClan and walk with the best of them.”

“He has already been welcomed by them,” Barkface announced. “I saw the StarClan warriors myself.”

From somewhere near the back a single voice rose up in a wail of grief. Crowfeather felt it in his heart.

“I was there when he died,” Firestar said.

“StarClan came down directly to lead him to their new hunting grounds,” Mudclaw added.

“Mudclaw, you’re our leader now,” meowed Webfoot. “We will all grieve for Tallstar, but we need you to help us settle in our new home.”

A murmur of agreement came from Crowfeather’s Clanmates. Mudclaw dipped his head in acknowledgement, but his eyes gleamed with sadness. “I had truly hoped that Tallstar would have a chance to see his new home, to lead us there,” he told everyone. “But I will do my best to honor him by finishing what he started.”

A few tail-lengths away, some cat let out a growl. Crowfeather turned to see Onewhisker sitting with Ashfur. “Right, honor him,” he snarled. “I’m sure you’re happy Tallstar’s dead. We all know you can’t wait to our leader.”

“What are you talking about?” Barkface demanded. “Mudclaw is just as upset about Tallstar’s death as any cat. He has earned the right to lead us.”

“He hasn’t earned anything,” Onewhisker shot back. “He just wants power.”

“Mouse dung to that!” Nightcloud snapped, drawing back her lips in a snarl. “There’s no cat better able to lead the Clan.”

A small voice called, “Yeah!” Darkkit was sitting next to Briarnose with Harekit and Kestrelkit.

If Onewhisker had been upset before, now his face was black with fury. He stormed over to glare at his son. “Shut up, you little runt! This is none of your business.”

“I’m part of this Clan too,” Darkkit protested.

“No, you’re not,” Onewhisker hissed. “You’re just a half-Clan runt who should have died with the rest of your littermates. You don’t belong with WindClan or any of the Clans.”

A brown shape flashed forward, and Briarnose swung her forepaw directly across Onewhisker’s muzzle. He stumbled backwards and she stepped between him and her son. Behind her, Kestrelkit was licking Darkkit reassuringly, while Harekit huddled against the shaking kit.

“ How dare you!” Briarnose shouted. “How could you say that to him? He’s a kit, and you’re his father. You should be treating him better.”

“He is not my son!” Onewhisker’s rage exploded. “I should have left him with his mother. He’s as soft as she was and no son of mine. It’s his fault Tallstar lost faith in me.” Crowfeather’s blood went cold.

“Enough!” Mudclaw was so furious his voice was shaking. “Tallstar said what he did because he wanted you to be better, because he didn’t want Darkkit to grow up the way he did. But you have taken this too far. You may try to disown him, but he is part of WindClan. He is your son!”

Onewhisker glared at him. “No, he’s not.”

Mudclaw swiped at the stump, scoring claw marks against its bark. “I will deal with you later,” he announced. “For now, you are responsible for caring for the elders…alone. None of the apprentices will be helping you.”

The gathered cats went silent. None of apprentices cheered, thankfully seeming to realize that it wasn’t the time. Meanwhile, Onewhisker stalked off and started whispering with Ashfur.

“He’s wrong, Darkkit!” Harekit squeaked. “You’re just as a much a part of this Clan as any of us.”

“You belong here,” Kestrelkit agreed. He continued to lick Darkkit, who couldn’t seem to stop trembling.

Crowfeather padded over to him. Briarnose had wrapped herself around him, trying to comfort him. She gave Kestrelkit a nod, indicating that he could stop his fervent grooming, then starting doing it herself.

“I’m sorry, little one,” Crowfeather whispered. Waiting for Briarnose to give him and approving nod, he stroked Darkkit’s pelt with his tail. “Something is seriously wrong with that mangepelt.” He barely stopped himself from using stronger words.

“I-I wish you were my father!” Darkkit mewled.

Crowfeather sighed. “I’m not old enough for that,” he murmured. “But I can be your brother. We are kin after all.”

“Really?” Darkkit’s shaking finally calmed and he stared up at Crowfeather. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that my mother Ashfoot is Onewhisker’s sister. She’s from a previous litter of course, but they are still related. So that technically makes us cousins.”

“Well, I would be thrilled to have you as my big brother,” Darkkit whispered, managing a faint purr. He touched his nose to Crowfeather’s.

Behind him, cheering broke out from the WindClan cats. “Mudstar! Mudstar! Mudstar!” He turned to join in and realized that all the voices were enthusiastic and approving. If Onewhisker had gained any support with his challenge, he had lost everything from how he’d just treated Darkkit. Blackstar and Leopardstar stood at the edge of the crowd, exchanging a horrified look. They may not have been disappointed to see potential quarrels in WindClan, but this was unacceptable even for them.

Mudclaw dipped his head. “Thank you,” he mewed “But I haven’t received my name or my nine lives from StarClan. Once I do, then you may call me by my leader’s name. And now it is time for me to choose who will be deputy.”

He started looking around. After a moment, he nodded, seeming satisfied with his choice.

“I say these words before StarClan, and before the spirit of Tallstar, that he may hear and approve my choice. Ashfoot will be the new deputy of WindClan.”

Pure delight warmed Crowfeather’s pelt. He bounded over and pressed his face to her muzzle. Behind him the other WindClan cats called out, “Ashfoot! Ashfoot!” He was glad that she was such a popular choice.

Darkkit’s little mew sounded out, mixing with Harekit and Kestrelkit’s. “Ashfoot! Ashfoot!” Crowfeather smiled at the young cats.

Mudclaw leaped down from the stump, and Firestar followed. Ashfoot came forward to touch noses with her new leader. “Thank you, Mudclaw,” she meowed. “I’ll do my best. I never imagined–”

“I know,” Mudclaw interrupted, giving her an approving nod. “That’s one reason why I chose you. I don’t want a cat who thinks she deserves power…it’s bad enough Onewhisker thinks I think that. But I don’t hold his choices against you. I want a cat who will help me make our Clan strong again when we reach our new home.”

Ashfoot purred. “Then that is what I will do.”

Turning to Firestar, Mudclaw meowed, “I’m sorry that was so difficult. I had no idea Onewhisker would do something like that.”

Firestar nodded. “I can’t support him after what he’s done. And I know that you will make an excellent leader of your Clan. You have your Clan behind you.”

Mudclaw nodded, guarded anxiety in his eyes. Crowfeather only noticed because he’d spent so much time with Mudclaw as his former apprentice, though he wasn’t sure if Firestar could tell. “Now I have to get my lives and my name, Firestar. But there’s no Moonstone here. And I’m sure as StarClan not going to leave and visit Highstones now. The journey there and back would take nearly a moon.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Firestar agreed. “I’m sure you won’t have to wait long. StarClan will show us a place.”

“There must be another Moonstone close by,” Ashfoot meowed with sturdy common sense. “StarClan wouldn’t have brought us here otherwise. We’ll find it as quickly as we can–and until we do, our Clan’s loyalty will be enough.”

Mudclaw sighed. His voice weary, he mewed, “We can’t do any more now. Though dawn is already here, we must sit vigil for Tallstar.”

He led the way across the clearing and crouched beside the unmoving black-and-white shape, pushing his nose into Tallstar’s cold fur. Ashfoot and Crowfeather settled down on each side of him, as if they wanted to shelter him while he grieved for his dead leader. This is worse than a normal vigil because we can’t sit vigil for a full night. It’s almost time for the Clans to move off to our new homes. Crowfeather felt the weight of his responsibility press down on him. Once again he wondered whether his father had made the right choice.

Chapter Text

Brambleclaw slipped through the trees, jaws parted to distinguish ThunderClan scent from among the mingled Clan scents that hovered in the air. It wasn’t easy; they had traveled together for so long the Clans no longer kept their separate, distinctive scents. Cats were darting everywhere, trying to say goodbye to friends in other Clans. There was so much activity, so much tension crackling between different cats that Brambleclaw could almost imagine he was in the thick of a battle–except in this battle there were no enemies.

Already it was sunhigh, and Firestar was eager to set out for the new territory. He had sent Brambleclaw to make sure no cat was left behind when they set out for their new home.

He spotted Mousefur saying goodbye to Heavystep. She looked thin and tired, but Brambleclaw was confident she would be fine once they settled into the hollow. The lakeside forest was full of prey, even though it was leafbare, and it was only a matter of time till everyone regained their strength.

“Hi, Mousefur,” he meowed. “Firestar would like us all to gather near the stump now.” He carefully avoided giving her a direct order. Mousefur had a short temper, and he didn’t want his tail snapped off.

“Okay, I’m coming.” Mousefur gave Heavystep’s ear a quick lick. “Go safely,” she told him. “I’ll see you at the Gathering.”

“Goodbye, Mousefur.” Heavystep watched her go before nodding to Brambleclaw and slipping into the trees where RiverClan was gathering.

Brambleclaw almost ran into Squirrelflight, who skidded around the trunk of a tree right under his paws.

“Hi, I was looking for you,” she panted. “Come with me.”

She doubled back and led him down into a small hollow where Tawnypelt and Crowfeather were waiting. “We have to say goodbye properly,” she meowed. “This is the end of our journey, now that the Clans are separating.”

A thorn of sorrow pierced Brambleclaw’s heart. Squirrelflight was right. Their quest was at an end. They had faced danger side by side, and somewhere amid the fear, the darkness, and the desperate race to save their Clanmates, they had found true friendship. But their first loyalty had to be to their Clans. It seemed like nine lifetimes ago that they had first left the forest, and sometimes it was even hard to remember how strong their friendship had become on their long journey to the sun-drown-place. Brambleclaw looked at Squirrelflight and knew he trusted her with his life. He hoped she felt the same.

He padded over to Crowfeather and Tawnypelt and touched noses with them. Gazing into their eyes, he saw memories swimming there like fish.

“We’ll never forget what we did,” Tawnypelt murmured.

Brambleclaw brushed against her side. “It was nice seeing you for longer than a Gathering.”

She pressed her muzzle to his. “I’ll miss you.”

All four cats stood in silence until Crowfeather mewed somberly, “We should be six.”

Brambleclaw flinched as he thought of the two cats who would never return to their Clan: Feathertail, who had selflessly given her life, and Stormfur, left behind with the Tribe of Rushing Water.

“We are six,” Squirrelflight mewed softly. “They’ll always be with us as long as we remember them.”

Crowfeather’s face cleared. “You’re right. We remember those we don’t have, and make sure we focus on those we do.”

Tawnypelt nodded. “I’d best be off. I’ll see you all at the next Gathering.”

She turned and bounded away, the others calling goodbyes after her.

Crowfeather dipped his head. “May you travel safely,” he mewed, backing away.

“We’ll be traveling together for a while,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “We have to cross your territory to get to ours.”

“I know, but I need to be there to watch out for Darkkit.”

“And perhaps Nightcloud?” Squirrelflight teased. Ignoring her, he turned and disappeared over the top of the hollow.

Brambleclaw stared after him. While he hoped the WindClan warrior would be well in their new home, he was disappointed they wouldn’t be able to make the most of the last of their time.

Squirrelflight brushed his ear with her tail-tip. “Come on. Firestar will be looking for us.”

On their way back, they caught up with Spiderpaw and Whitepaw, who were saying goodbye to Ripplepaw and Beechpaw. Squirrelflight gave Spiderpaw, who had Birchkit clinging to his back like an overenthusiastic burr, a friendly cuff around the ear and told the two to come with them before they got left behind.

When they reached the stump, they found the rest of ThunderClan sitting in small groups, waiting to leave.

Dustpelt was trying to check that every cat was there. “Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight are missing,” he meowed irritably to Firestar as he came within earshot. “And Spiderpaw and Whitepaw went to find Birchkit–oh, there you are,” he added as he spotted them.

Spiderpaw snorted. “He was trying to sneak away to join Tallpoppy’s kits.”

“Was he now?” Mirth shone in Dustpelt’s eyes. “We might have to figure out a suitable punishment for him then.”

“No, thank you!” Birchkit squeaked. He flattened himself against Spiderpaw’s back.

Dustpelt gave him an amused lick. “All right, I guess I won’t punish you this time,” he decided. “As long as you promise to never do something like this again.” Birchkit nodded, rocking Spiderpaw in the process. “And get off your brother,” he ordered. “You’re old enough to walk.”

Birchkit unhooked his claws from Spiderpaw’s pelt. Spiderpaw arched his back gracefully. “Thanks, Dustpelt.” Dustpelt gave him a lick too.

Brambleclaw exchanged a look with Squirrelflight. “I wish I had an older brother,” he whispered. “I know I had Swiftpaw, but I barely knew him. He didn’t really talk to Tawnypelt and me.”

An over-eager mrrow came from behind him, and a sudden weight crashed into his back. A moment later he realized Rainwhisker and Sorreltail had jumped him and were now proudly sitting on top of him. “Hey, we actually got him,” Rainwhisker said in surprise.

“If you can’t have older siblings, at least you have younger ones,” Squirrelflight purred.

Brambleclaw groaned playfully. “I’m pretty sure younger siblings don’t squash you like a bug.”

“Ah, but at least yours don’t stick their claws in you,” Whitepaw pointed out. “And they’re not likely to try getting a badger ride out of you.”

“Well, we could,” Sorreltail laughed. “But then he’d be really squished.”

She stepped off him. Rainwhisker followed, while Squirrelflight helped Brambleclaw regain his paws.

“Right, Firestar, that’s every cat,” Dustpelt meowed. “Though we might want to get moving, since our youngest warriors seem to have forgotten that they’re warriors and not kits.”

“Let them be,” Firestar purred. “It’s good for them to have fun for once.”

He leaped onto the tree stump, where Blackstar was already waiting. Leopardstar joined them a moment later, and Mudclaw sat below them among the roots.

The rest of the cats stirred restlessly, and one or two stood up and clawed the ground. They were too excited at the prospect of finding their new homes to sit quietly and listen to their leaders.

“The four of us have been discussing possible boundaries,” Blackstar began, “and we need to tell you what we have decided.”

Brambleclaw’s ears pricked. Wasn’t it rather early to settle this? After all, his patrol hadn’t had a chance to explore every pawstep of the new territories. But maybe it was better to prepare the cats for the extent of each territory, to avoid one Clan claiming more than their share.

“Tawnypelt and Rowanclaw reported a small Thunderpath running alongside the pine woods,” Blackstar went on. “ShadowClan will take that for its boundary with RiverClan. Farther around the lake, the clearing where the stream runs through the middle can be the boundary with ThunderClan.”

“We don’t know how far upstream the clearing goes,” Tawnypelt reminded him from where she sat among her Clanmates. “We’ll need to mark the boundary through the trees as well.”

Blackstar nodded. “We’ll check that out as soon as we arrive.”

“Then ThunderClan’s territory will begin at the clearing,” Firestar meowed. “And Brambleclaw says there’s a stream on the other side of the wood, at the foot of the ridge of hills, that might make a good boundary with WindClan.”

“RiverClan’s territory will begin here at the horseplace,” Leopardstar spoke up. “And stretch as far as the Thunderpath at the edge of the pinewoods.”

“Then WindClan territory will be from the horseplace to the stream that Firestar mentioned,” Mudclaw finished.

Brambleclaw caught Tawnypelt’s eye across the clearing and nodded. That sounded fair. Each Clan would have a good stretch of territory with access to the lake and plenty of space for hunting the prey they were most used to.

“This is only a rough idea,” Firestar warned. “We need to get to know the territory better before we put down our scent markers. We’ll announce the exact boundaries at the next Gathering.”

“And let’s try to do it without fighting,” Barkface called out. “Before you claw some cat’s ear off, kindly remember that we medicine cats haven’t had time to build up our stores of herbs yet.”

A ripple of amusement passed through the cats, and Brambleclaw saw several nodding in agreement. But it wasn’t the threat of a low supply of herbs that made fighting seem wrong. Much more than that, it would feel strange to fight cats who had struggled side by side to survive the destruction of the forest and the long journey through the mountains.

“Before we get going, there’s something I would like to say,” Mudclaw called out.

Some of the cats groaned, and Onewhisker yowled, “Can’t we just wait for the Gathering!”

Mudclaw ignored him. “Before he died, Tallstar made it clear that the Clans survive best when there is a measure of unity between them. Therefore, I would like to propose adding a new position to the Clans to aid with this.”

“What kind of position did you have in mind?” Leopardstar demanded.

“I suggest that each Clan chooses two of its cats to become messengers. Messengers would be a way Clans could communicate between each other without looking like an invasion. They would be allowed to visit each camp without challenge, but still not hunt in another territory.”

Blackstar scoffed. “You can’t be serious. Clans can’t have outside warriors running wildly in their territory. It goes against–”

“That seems promising.” Firestar cut him off. “I think it’s a wise suggestion. If we did have messengers, then the Clans could pass along warnings of dangers like foxes or Twolegs.”

“Exactly how old do you think these messengers should be?” Thornclaw called. “Surely you don’t want apprentices roaming around before we’ve even started explored our new homes.”

Mudclaw dipped his head. “To start with, messengers should be cats who are at least a few moons beyond warrior age. That way they can have a chance to figure out what they are doing before any apprentices join them.”

“If apprentices begin training as messengers too soon, won’t their mentors still be learning themselves?” Blackclaw noted.

“We don’t have to decide every detail right now,” Ashfoot reminded him. Brambleclaw guessed she’d discussed this with Mudclaw already. “We just have to decide whether or not we’re are going to add the role or not.”

Firestar was the first to decide. “I already said I think this is wise. You have my vote.”

Leopardstar and Blackstar exchanged a look. “I suppose we can try,” the RiverClan leader grumbled. “But we’re going to have to decide specific routes for them to take. I don’t want cats from other Clans traipsing all around my territory.” Mudclaw nodded.

“I will agree to this under one condition,” Blackstar announced. “We must hold a trial run to see exactly how it goes. If something goes wrong and proves this a bad idea, I will remove my vote.”

“Thank you, Blackstar,” Mudclaw meowed. “And thank you, Leopardstar, Firestar.”

“All Clans must decide their messengers by full moon,” Leopardstar decided. “They will be announced at the Gathering.”

Blackstar rolled his eyes. “And at the suggestion of our two least experienced medicine cats, we will meet on the shore across from the island no cat wants to swim to and hope StarClan gives us a way to get there…and stay dry.”

“You’d make a great messenger,” Brambleclaw whispered to Squirrelflight. “You’re really fast. And you’ve certainly got enough energy for it.”

She smiled. “No way! I’m a warrior all the way.”

Goldenflower padded over to the ShadowClan cats to say goodbye to Tawnypelt. She pressed her muzzle to her daughter’s. “I’m so proud of you. May StarClan watch your path.”

“Thanks, Goldenflower,” Tawnypelt purred.

Rowanclaw twined his tail with her. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch over her,” he promised Goldenflower.

She flicked his muzzle with her tail-tip. “You’d better. I’ll be keeping an eye out.”

“Let’s get going,” Firestar urged. “And may StarClan be with us all.” He jumped down and padded over to the ThunderClan cats, his tail sticking straight up in the air with barely restrained excitement. “Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, you’d better lead, since you know the way.”

Brambleclaw dipped his head and went to the front of the Clan. Goldenflower gave Tawnypelt one more proud lick and hurried to rejoin ThunderClan.

As they began to make their way through the trees, Mudclaw hailed them, bounding over with his Clan behind him. “We might as well travel together for a while,” he meowed to Firestar. “Since we’re going in the same direction, it’s only common sense.”

Firestar nodded. “Good idea.”

As they continued, Brambleclaw noticed that Crowfeather was among the cats at the front of his Clan, Darkkit, Kestrelkit, and Harekit at his paws. Briarnose and Nightcloud walked with them, nudging the kits anytime they needed a boost. Onewhisker and Ashfur stayed at the back of the group, whispering fiercely to each other.

A little way off, RiverClan and ShadowClan were heading slantwise across the slope in the opposite direction. Narrowing his eyes, Brambleclaw recognized Hawkfrost at the edge of his Clanmates. At exactly the same instant, his brother turned and met Brambleclaw’s gaze. Murmuring something to the warrior beside him, a brown she-cat he recognized as Ivytail, he bounded away from his Clan and came over. Thinking back to the Clans’ journey, Brambleclaw remembered Ivytail had been one of the few cats to talk with Hawkfrost. The two RiverClan cats clearly had a strong friendship.

“Brambleclaw.” Hawkfrost dipped his head in the formal greeting, but his ice-blue eyes were friendly, albeit nervous. “Good luck in your new territory. May StarClan be with you.”

“And with you,” Brambleclaw responded.

“I’m looking forward to meeting you at Gatherings,” Hawkfrost added. His eyes searched Brambleclaw’s as if there were more he wanted to say, but a yowl from Blackclaw made him jerk his head around. The two Clans had almost reached the shore of the lake, and if he wasn’t careful, he would have a long run to catch up. “I have to go,” he meowed to Brambleclaw.

On impulse, Brambleclaw touched Hawkfrost’s shoulder with his tail-tip. “Until the Gathering, brother.”

Hawkfrost stared at him for a moment, unsure. Eventually, he relaxed and knocked his shoulder against Brambleclaw’s. “Until the Gathering, brother.” He blinked, then whipped around and raced back to his Clan.

“Do you think we can get a move on?” Squirrelflight complained. “Or are you planning to stand gossiping all day?”

“He was only trying to be friendly!” Brambleclaw protested.

She brushed her muzzle against his. “I know,” she purred. “And it’s admirable of you to give him your friendship in return. Your family has been separated for so long; maybe someday you can come together properly.”

He relaxed, relieved at her words. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Hopefully, I can trust him someday,” she said. “But StarClan will light your paths, and I will let them.”

*  *  *  *  *

ThunderClan and WindClan followed the edge of the lake, slipping quietly past the fence of the horseplace and then climbing the hill a little way so they could look down on the shining expanse of water. On the shore near the island, Brambleclaw could just make out two groups of tiny dots, moving slowly: ShadowClan and RiverClan, heading for their own new territories. At that distance, he could not distinguish individual cats, but he knew his siblings would be among them. He wished them well.

The cats padded across the hillside together until they reached a narrow fold in the hill with rocks jutting out of the tough grass and a trickle of water along the bottom.

Mudclaw stopped and gathered his Clan around him with a wave of his tail. “We’ll leave you here,” he meowed to Firestar. “This should lead up to the ridge where Crowfeather found our camp.” Dipping his head, he added, “StarClan go with you to your new home.”

Brambleclaw heard a murmur of approval from among the WindClan warriors. The new leader’s words had been well chosen: formal, but kind, and not giving any hint that WindClan might owe something to ThunderClan.

Firestar nodded. “Go well. StarClan has found a good home for all of us.”

The two leaders made their farewells, echoed by other cats in both Clans. Crowfeather looked back at Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight for a moment, then turned back and gave them both a warm nod. WindClan began the steep climb up the ravine, the ThunderClan cats standing to watch for a while. Eventually, Firestar called the Clan together, and it was time to continue.

Somehow, now that ThunderClan was on their own, the lake and the land around it seemed to stretch away farther than before, even more unknown and more threatening. Brambleclaw was acutely aware of every rock or bush that might hide an enemy. His pelt bristled. It was strange that he hadn’t felt the same on the patrol. But then again, he’d faced many dangers with half the cats beside him, and he could trust them to look out for themselves as well as one another. Now he had to worry about the safety of his whole Clan, who were less practiced at traveling through unfamiliar territory.

Firestar obviously shared his misgivings. “Ever cat stay alert,” he called, and added more quietly, “Brackenfur, Dustpelt, keep guard on the side nearest the lake. Cloudtail and Brightheart, you take the other side. Sandstorm and Sorreltail, stay at the back and make sure no cat falls behind.”

The warriors took up their positions, though Dustpelt paused and made eye contact with Spiderpaw. The apprentice nodded, dropping back smoothly to pad beside Ferncloud and Birchkit. Whitepaw followed suit. The Clan moved on, their cheerful meows and joking dying away as the cats padded on in silence, their eyes wide and watchful.

No cat was talking except for Rainwhisker and Sootfur. “I’d love to be one of the messengers!” Rainwhisker meowed enthusiastically. “It would be so cool to carry messages back and forth between Clans. I’ve always wanted to do something important.”

“Me too,” Sootfur agreed. “But what do you think the chances would be of us being chosen?”

“I don’t see anyone else volunteering,” Rainwhisker pointed out.

The cold gray light was beginning to fade when they came to a stream at the food of a gentle slope. On the other side was the wood where Squirrelflight had discovered the stone hollow. Brambleclaw’s erase twitch uncomfortably as he wondered what his Clanmates would think of their new home.

“We crossed this stream before,” Squirrelflight muttered as they paused on the bank. Once we’re on the other side, we’re really in ThunderClan territory!”

“If we decide to make this our boundary,” he reminded her.

The stream was too wide to leap, and the cats hesitated on the bank, looking for stepping-stones or tree branches that might help them cross. As the last of the light died, turning the woods ahead to a rustling mass of shadows, Brambleclaw sensed his Clanmates’ anxiety rising. Ferncloud curled her tail around Birchkit’s shoulders to keep him away from the water, and even the apprentices looked scared.

“What about Longtail?” Mousefur called. “How do you expect him to be across here?”

The blind tom shook his head calmly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he promised. “I’m blind, not helpless.”

“Mouse dung!” Squirrelflight muttered crossly. “We’d better climb the hill to the place we crossed before. It was easier farther up.”

“No, hang on,” Brambleclaw meowed. They didn’t have time for that, not if they wanted to reach the stone hollow before dark. “The water doesn’t look deep. Let’s see if we can wade across.”

He dipped one paw in the water, shivering at its icy touch, then stepped out into the current. The pebbly bottom shelved gently, and he found that even at the deepest place, the water didn’t lap much higher than his belly fur.

“Come on!” he announced as he leaped out on the opposite bank, shaking each leg in turn to get rid of the water. “It’s easy!”

A couple of yowls of protest rose from the other bank. “If you think I’m getting wet, you’ve got bees in your brain!” Mousefur growled across to him.

Brambleclaw sighed. It would take far longer to climb the hill to the stepping-stones, and if the Clan had to blunder about in the dark looking for their new camp, then the chances were that some cats would discover it the same way Squirrelflight had–by falling over the edge of the cliff. Then, to his relief, he saw Firestar beckoning to his Clan with his tail.

“Come on!” he meowed impatiently. “We’ve come all this way. We’re not going to let a stream stop us now, are we?” The confidence in his voice reminded Brambleclaw that Firestar was no stranger to swimming, having braved the flooded river back in the forest to save kits and even jumped into the gorge in an attempt to help Bluestar.

One by one, the Clan began to cross. Cloudtail and Sandstorm went first, wading slowly through the water with their tails washed sideways by the current. Dustpelt followed, turning to watch his family as soon as he had crossed. Spiderpaw bent down to whisper something to Birchkit. Brambleclaw couldn’t hear it, though judging from Ferncloud’s amused expression, he suspected it was something to encourage the kit. Birchkit scrambled onto Spiderpaw’s back, gripping his shoulders tightly, then Spiderpaw began to carefully make his way across the stream. Whitepaw went beside him, her eyes never leaving Birchkit, as if to make sure his grip stayed strong. Ferncloud followed closely behind them When they reached the deepest part, Spiderpaw sank deeper than the others, the water reaching nearly to his back, but all three cats crossed safely.

Once they stepped onto the bank, Whitepaw helped Birchkit off Spiderpaw's back, Ferncloud began to rasp her tongue over her older son's pelt in long, even strokes.

Dustpelt sniffed Birchkit once, while Birchkit gave them a nervous look. “Is Spiderpaw okay? The only time Ferncloud does that to me is when she's really worried.”

“He's fine,” Whitepaw assured him. “He just got extra wet and it's cold out, so Ferncloud is helping him get dry.”

“So I helped! I gave him extra strength to cross the stream, just like he said!”

Whitepaw purred. “Yes, you were a big help. Good job.”

Brambleclaw tilted his head. Spiderpaw must have told Birchkit that he would make him stronger during the crossing if he was on his back, Brambleclaw thought in amusement.

“Well done,” Dustpelt told Spiderpaw.

Surprisingly, Spiderpaw seemed to be enjoying the impromptu grooming. Most cats didn’t usually appreciate being cleaned by their mothers. Then Brambleclaw remembered that Spiderpaw hadn’t spent much time with his parents since before the six cats had left on their journey, with things only growing worse when Hollykit, Larchkit, and Shrewpaw had died. Both cats were clearly making up for lost time.

Brackenfur and Sorreltail guided Longtail, while Squirrelflight finally persuaded Mousefur into the water by promising she’d soon be in a warm den, on a bed of dry moss. The senior warrior then grumbled every pawstep of the way until she pulled herself out on the other side and glared at Brambleclaw as she shook herself dry.

Behind her, Squirrelflight rolled her eyes, as if she wasn’t looking forward to collecting all the moss she’d promised on the other side of the stream. “You’d think we’d told her to go sleep with a badger,” she muttered.

Firestar crossed last. “Right,” he meowed, as he joined Brambleclaw on the bank. “Where’s this camp?”

Brambleclaw exchanged a glance with Squirrelflight. They hadn’t approached the hollow from this direction, and in the gathering darkness, everything looked different. Squirrelflight was obviously no more certain than he was. She looked blankly at him and gave the tiniest shake of her head.

He tasted the air, trying to judge their position from the stream and the slope of the hill. “It’s this way,” he meowed at last, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

The Clan followed him into the trees. Brambleclaw veered in front of them to walk beside Squirrelflight. “What if we can’t find it?” he mewed quietly.

Squirrelflight’s green eyes glinted in the darkness as she turned to look at him. “Then we’ll have a lot of furious cats on our tails. Stop worrying,” she added. “It’s around here somewhere. We found it even though we weren’t looking for it the first time, remember?”

Brambleclaw didn’t tell her that was precisely what he was afraid of–that they’d find the hollow only when a cat fell into it. He suddenly felt very small and vulnerable as he padded through the dead leaves, with smooth gray trunks rising up on every side. Even if we find the hollow, will the others think it’s any good? he wondered desperately.

Squirrelflight must have read his expression, because she gave him a comforting look. “We’ll find it,” she promised.

“Have a little faith in yourself,” a cat said. It was Leafpaw, who had left her mentor’s side to join them. “StarClan chose you for a reason. They trusted you to find us a home; now you need to trust yourself.”

“He nodded. “Thank you,” he rasped.

The reassurance only helped for a moment though, since uneasy muttering began coming from the other cats, who must have realized they weren’t following a direct route.

Then he saw Squirrelflight’s ears prick up. “Look!” she meowed. “That gap between the trees over there, with the clump of dead bracken…I’ve seen that before.”

“Are you sure?” Brambleclaw asked.

“Positive,” she confirmed, before racing ahead. He followed her into a small clearing, and skidded to a halt in front of the tangle of thorns where Squirrelflight had disappeared when she first found the stone hollow.

She was standing in the middle of the clearing, her eyes shining. “This is it!” she yowled triumphantly. Spinning around, she called to the rest of the Clan, “Come on, we’re here!”

Birchkit let out a screech of excitement. He broke away from the rest of the Clan and dashed forward, straight into the brambles. Brambleclaw stared in horror. They had found the hollow again, but that wasn’t the way in!

“Come back!” Ferncloud called after her kit.

There was no reply.

“No!” Squirrelflight yowled. She sprang forward, but Spiderpaw was already moving, burrowing among the thorns after his brother, Squirrelflight right behind him.

Brambleclaw slid underneath the branches and found Spiderpaw crouched between Birchkit and the edge of the cliff. Squirrelpaw pinned Birchkit’s tail to the ground with one paw, while the kit stared over the sheer rock wall, his eyes wide with terror.

“Mousebrain!” Squirrelflight exclaimed. “You could have gotten yourself badly hurt.” Or worse. She didn’t say the words aloud out of fear of scaring him too much, but the meaning was clear.

“Sorry,” Birchkit mumbled, trembling. “You said we were here, so I thought…”

Squirrelflight batted him across the ear with one paw, her claws sheathed. “Get back to the others,” she rasped. “And maybe next time you should trying thinking less and listening more.”

Brambleclaw almost snorted out loud, hearing Squirrelflight give the same advise she’d heard so many times. She released Birchkit’s tail, and Spiderpaw bent down to let Birchkit climb onto his back again. “It’s okay. You’re all right,” he meowed to the frightened kit.

Waiting until they had crawled away from the cliff, Brambleclaw followed them out of the brambles.

“What’s going on?” Ferncloud demanded. “Is there something dangerous in those bushes? Why didn’t you warn us before?”

“Because we thought everyone would be smart enough not throw themselves into strange bushes,” Squirrelflight muttered.

Unease, sharp as a claw, raked down Brambleclaw’s spine. “Er…we’ve found the camp,” he meowed. “It’s in a hollow on the other side of those brambles..” Hastily he added, “It’s not dangerous once you know where the edge is come and see.”

Whitepaw bounded curiously over to the thorns, and Spiderpaw blocked her with his tail. “Not that way,” he whispered.

Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw led the other cats down the slope, weaving between brambles and hazel trees until they reached the gap in the circle of stone. Brambleclaw nervously watched his Clanmates as they filed in and stood looking around at the towering walls. The sky was almost completely dark now, with clouds covering the half moon, and Brambleclaw had to admit the hollow looked dark and uninviting. There seemed to be more brambles and thornbushes than he remembered, making it feel cramped and overgrown. Some of the undergrowth would be useful for shelter, but the rest would have to be cleared.

Mousefur was the first to speak.  “This isn’t a camp! Where are the dens? There’s not enough space for a snake to sun itself here.”

“Hey!” Squirrelflight protested. “You didn’t think StarClan would have it all ready for us, did you? I know there’s a lot of work to do, but think about how easy it will be to defend, surrounded by these cliffs. An enemy would have to be completely mousebrained to come here.”

“I think it looks great,” Thornclaw meowed. “We’ll soon sort out proper dens, and somewhere for the nursery.”

“I want to explore!” Whitepaw exclaimed, bouncing on her paws. “Can we, Brackenfur? Please!”

Her mentor gave her a gentle nudge. “Wait until tomorrow, when it’s light and we can actually see.”

Goldenflower was standing beside Longtail, her tail curled across his shoulders. “It’s a huge clearing with stone walls,” she mewed softly. “It’s quite dark, but I think the walls are covered with ferns and moss. Can you hear that trickle of water? It sounds more like rain draining off the rock than a proper stream. The hollow is full of brambles and thorn thickets, but there’s plenty of space for the Clan.”

“Then StarClan has brought us to an excellent place,” Longtail meowed. “I can easily imagine us building our camp here.”

Their optimism cheered Brambleclaw up, even though not all the cats shared it. Ferncloud was looking around doubtfully, and Cloudtail was sniffing the air with an irritable look, as if he expected prey to leap into his paws.

Mousefur snorted. “Those bushes will be cold and wet and full of ticks, I shouldn’t wonder.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything, Sandstorm flicked her warningly on the ears with her tail.

“Come on, it’s got a lot going for it,” she mewed bracingly. “Those walls will shelter us from bad weather. And like you said, Squirrelflight, it should be easy to defend.”

“We’ll have to do something about that, though.” Dustpelt nodded his head toward the entrance. “The whole of ShadowClan could be through there in a couple of heartbeats.”

Even though Brambleclaw had thought exactly the same thing when he first saw the hollow, he could help feeling frustrated. Had his Clanmates really expected the camp to be perfect from the first moment they set paw inside it?

“It’s too late to do anything tonight,” Firestar meowed. “And far too dark. But you’re right, it looks like a likely place for a camp,” he added to Brambleclaw. “We can make up our minds for sure when we see it in daylight. Dustpelt, Thornclaw, can you check that we’re hot sharing the place with any foxes or badgers? The rest of us can start finding places to sleep.”

The two warriors peeled off front he group and began to circle the hollow in opposite directions, scenting the air every few pawsteps and peering into clefts in the rock and underneath bushes. Feeling as if he couldn’t walk another step, Brambleclaw watched until they were swallowed by the shadows at the foot of the cliff.

“What about fresh-kill?” Cloudtail asked. “Do we have to go to sleep hungry?”

One or two voices were raised in agreement, and Brambleclaw felt his neck fur begin to rise.

“None of us has enough energy to hunt right now,” Rainwhisker pointed out. “It makes more sense to wait till morning. And we’re better fed now than we’ve been in moons. One night won’t hurt any cat.”

“It’s not long ago we went to sleep hungry every night,” Squirrelflight muttered into Brambleclaw’s ear, sounding as disappointed with their Clanmates’ reaction to the hollow as he was. “Why are they complaining so much?”

“It’s like Rainwhisker said. We’ve been very well fed since we reached the lake,” he reminded her, “which some cats will find it hard to give up for one night.”

“We’ll send out patrols at dawn,” Firestar promised the Clan. “And there are some announcements I need to make once we’ve all had a chance to get some rest.”

There was some muttering at that, but gradually it died away, and the group began to split up as cats looked for sleeping places.

“Brambleclaw, do you know if there’s a sheltered place for Birchkit?” Ferncloud asked anxiously. “I’m afraid he’ll come down with whitecough if he doesn’t have somewhere warm to sleep.”

“I don’t know,” Brambleclaw admitted, “but I’ll help you look. There are brambles near the wall just a bit farther up.”

Birchkit let out a small growl of indignation. “I don’t need shelter. I’m almost a warrior!”

Brambleclaw purred. “Even warriors need shelter from the cold.”

“And what about some moss for bedding?” Mousefur broke in. “Are we expected to sleep on bare earth? Squirrelflight said there would be a warm den waiting for me once I crossed that wretched stream.”

“I’m sorry, Mousefur, I can’t do everything,” Brambleclaw told her apologetically. “But if you sleep with enough of the Clan, I’m sure you’ll be warm enough.”

Mousefur gave him an appraising look, then turned and padded over to join Cloudtail and Brightheart.

By the time he had found a place for Ferncloud and Birchkit among the brambles and scraped up some dead bracken to make a nest, most of the other cats had found sleeping places. Instinctively, he looked around for Squirrelflight, spotting her sitting a few tail-lengths away.

He padded over to join her. “I figured I’d wait for you,” she purred. “You’ve been working so hard; I didn’t want you to have to sleep alone if everyone was already dreaming.”

“Thanks.” He purred too. “I was thinking I’d stay with Goldenflower tonight, since I haven’t had a chance to spend much time with her. You are more than welcome.”

She smiled at him. “I would love to come.”

It took a few heartbeats to find the sheltered spot where Goldenflower had just settled Longtail into a nest of dried bracken. It looked as if the tabby warrior was asleep already, his sightless eyes tightly shut and his tail curled over his own.

“Cheer up, you two,” Goldenflower meowed. “Everything’s going to be fine; I know it is.”

Brambleclaw slumped down beside her, Squirrelflight curling up on his other side. He could tell she was feeling the same as he was: too tired to pretend this was how they’d wanted the Clan to arrive in their new home. “It wouldn’t hurt for the other cats to be a bit more enthusiastic,” he sighed.

Goldenflower pressed her muzzle against his flank and let out an affectionate purr. “We’re exhausted. What do you expect? Every cat knows how much we owe to you. If we’d stayed in the forest, we would be dead by now. Instead, you brought us here. We’re safe, and we’re where StarClan wanted us to be.”

“I know, but–”

“So the journey’s end isn’t quite what you hoped for. Right now I can’t see that it matters.” She drew her tongue over his ears in a brisk lick; for a moment Brambleclaw felt like a kit again, and wished himself back in the nursery with Tawnypelt beside him, and nothing more urgent to worry about than their next feed, or whether it was warm enough to play outside.

“Get some sleep,” his mother told him warmly. “Everything will look better in the morning.”

Chapter Text

Leafpaw and Cinderpelt had found a rocky overhang at the back of the stone hollow.

“This won’t do permanently,” Cinderpelt warned. “We need a proper cave with walls to store our supplies, like the one we had in the forest. But it’ll be okay for tonight.”

Leafpaw crept in after her mentor and found a dry place at the back for the horsetail stems she had carried back from the marsh.

“Get a good night’s rest,” Cinderpelt advised her, settling down and tucking her nose under her tail. “There’ll be plenty to do in the morning.”

Leafpaw knew she wouldn’t be able to close her eyes until she had asked the question that ran icy claws along her spine. “Cinderpelt? D-do you think this is the right place for us?” she mewed bravely. “Do you think this is really where StarClan meant us to be?”

Cinderpelt yawned. “I do. StarClan has already spoken to you to promise that this is where we’re meant to be, and I trust you. Our ancestors chose you to bring this message and hope to the others, and they chose Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight to bring us here.”

“Technically, Squirrelflight chose herself,” Leafpaw muttered. She wondered every day if her sister had truly been needed on the quest to find Midnight.

“Everything will be fine,” Cinderpelt purred. “Now stop worrying and go to sleep.” She pushed her nose further into her tail, and her breathing became slow and uneven as she drifted off.

Leafpaw did not find sleep so easy to come by. She sat beneath the overhang with her paws tucked under her, gazing into the shadow-filled hollow. StarClan, please speak to me again. Show us where to communicate with you properly, she begged. But only one or two lonely stars glimmered from the cloudy skies.

She must have dozed at last, because she opened her eyes to find she was dreaming. She was standing on a dark sweep of hillside, looking down at the glitter of Silverpelt reflected in the shiny black lake. The island should have been a thicker patch of shadow against the water, but instead it shone with moonlight, each tree picked out in a shaft of silver. Leafpaw felt as if the place were calling to her, as if there were more she needed to learn about it. We’ll go there soon, she reminded herself. StarClan will give us what we need.

A breeze picked up, whispering over the star-filled lake and ruffling Leafpaw-s fur. She felt a surge of hope run through her, even though the voices of her warrior ancestors remained silent. But Leafpaw was not afraid. Feathertail had spoken to her before, and the ancestors had been silent before on the long journey through the mountains. The Clans would have the strength within to make their camps they would explore every part of the lakeside until they knew the good places for prey, for water and bedding, the spots where each healing herb grew, and the places where they could play and relax in the sun. it seemed strange and daunting now, but eventually it would be their home. Pawstep by pawstep, they would make it happen.

As she stood gazing down at the lake, Leafpaw realized the world around her was changing. The broad surface of water in front of shifted into sandy stone floor, rippled here and there as if giant paw prints had left their shape. A river wound across the floor and flowed away into a low, broad tunnel, disappearing into shadow. The walls of the cave were rough and arching, glowing in weak moonlight that filtered in through a crack in the roof.

Then the moonlight vanished abruptly, plunging the cave into darkness. Shaking with cold and uncertainty, she heard a voice spoke clearly in her mind:

Even in the shadows, stars can shine.

*  *  *  *  *

“Cinderpelt! Cinderpelt!”

Leafpaw awoke with a jump. It was still dark, though lighter than it had been in her dream. Sorreltail was peering under the rocky overhang, anxiously calling Cinderpelt’s name. Somewhere in the hollow, the eerie yowl of a cat in pain tore the quiet of the night.

“What is it? What’s happening?” Leafpaw asked, scrambling up and prodding Cinderpelt in the flank.

“It’s Mousefur,” mewed Sorreltail. “She says she has a pain her belly.”

“I’ll come,” Cinderpelt meowed, getting to her paws.

“If Mousefur has bellyache, we need watermint or juniper berries,” Leafpaw told her. “There were masses of them at the other end of the lake. Do you want me to fetch some?”

Her mentor looked serious. “It would be better to find a supply nearby, but if we need them before daylight, then you’ll have to go back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sorreltail offered. “It’s not safe to be moving around this territory in the dark, especially when we barely know the route we took to get here. Plus it would be fun to go on an adventure we have permission to be on.”

Cinderpelt gave her an amused look, but followed her with Leafpaw across the hollow to the clump of ferns where Mousefur had made her nest, stumbling over stones in the darkness. Leafpaw tasted the air in an attempt to discover if any of the herbs they needed were growing nearby, but it was impossible to make out the special scents among so many, and against the overwhelming scent of cats.

When she and Cinderpelt reached Mousefur, the brown warrior was lying on her side, her body twisted with pain, her jaws gaping as she let out another anguished yowl.

“Mousefur, listen to me.” Cinderpelt crouched down beside her. “Do you know what caused this? Have you eaten any crowfood?”

Mousefur blinked, eyes glazed with pain. “Crowfood? No,” she rasped. “Do you think I’m mousebrained? I’m smart enough to not do something like that. My belly…” Her words trailed off into another yowl.

A horrible suspicion forced itself into Leafpaw’s mind. Beckoning Cinderpelt asid, she murmured, “Mothwing found some bad-smelling water that a rabbit had drowned in. She couldn’t smell anything because she was covered in mouse bile, and the sun was reflecting off the surface so she couldn’t see the rabbit. But she was trying to be helpful and gave the water to a bunch of cats. I think the water was tainted because of the rabbit, and Mousefur must drinken some.”

Cinderpelt let out an exasperated sigh. “And she didn’t think to…Well, no point in going into that.”

“What are we going to do?” Leafpaw asked anxiously.

Cinderpelt turned to Sorreltail. “Do you know if any other cat drank the water?”

Sorreltail shook her head.

“Goldenflower and Longtail might have,” Cinderpelt went on. “Check it out, would you, Sorreltail?”

The tortoiseshell warrior nodded and vanished into the darkness.

“Try to lie still, Mousefur,” Cinderpelt urged. “Let me feel your belly.” She patted gently with her paw. To Leafpaw, the brown warrior’s stomach looked unnaturally distended.

“Haven’t you got some herbs I could take?” Mousefur moaned.

Cinderpelt shook her head. “We haven’t had time to look for any yet.”

Mousefur opened her mouth to say something else, then retched and began to vomit.

“That could be a good sign,” Cinderpelt meowed to Leafpaw. “At least she’s getting rid of the poison.”

Leafpaw nodded, feeling utterly helpless. Mousefur was suffering because the medicine cats could do nothing without their stock of herbs. “We’ll have to find more supplies as soon as it’s light,” she mewed. “Especially watermint and juniper berries. I’ll take some to the other Clans, in case they drank the water too.”

Cinderpelt’s blue eyes widened in surprise, and Leafpaw winced. She had become too used to thinking of all four Clans as one, with shared problems and shared solutions. It seemed natural to help them if she though their elders might be suffering the same thing as Mousefur. But now that the boundaries between them were being reestablished, was she being disloyal to her own Clan?

“We should check on WindClan at least,” she added persuasively. “Their cats are the weakest thanks to the Twolegs poisoning their rabbits, so they’ll be in the most danger.”

Cinderpelt nodded. “You can go in the morning, but you’d better take a warrior with you. Like Sorreltail said, there’s no sense in travelling alone when we still don’t know the territory. We’ll speak to Firestar as soon as we can. Well?” she prompted, as soon as Sorreltail reappeared.

“Goldenflower says she had a bellyache, but she’s been sick, and it isn’t too bad now,” Sorreltail reported. “Longtail is asleep, and he looks okay, so I didn’t wake him.”

“Thanks,” meowed Cinderpelt. “Longtail’s younger, of course, so he should be stronger. I’ll have a word with him when he wakes.”

“Mothwing meant to be kind,” Leafpaw murmured. She didn’t want her friend to get into trouble for not noticing the rabbit at the bottom of the pool.

To Leafpaw’s relief, Cinderpelt didn’t seem to blame Mothwing too much. “I know. Any cat can make a mistake.” Then the medicine cat’s eyes darkened and she went on. “But Mothwing would be the first to admit she has much less experience than the other medicine cats, and no mentor to guide her now that Mudgur is dead. I hope for RiverClan’s sake that she doesn’t make that kind of mistake too often. She’ll need all the help StarClan can give her, that’s for sure.”

*  *  *  *  *

Weak after her vomiting, but more comfortable, Mousefur managed to sleep. Sorreltail stayed to keep an eye on her, with instructions from Cinderpelt to fetch her if the pain returned. The sky was already turning gray behind the trees at the top of the cliff, and though Leafpaw felt exhausted, there was no point in going back to the makeshift den. As soon as the light grew stronger, she and Cinderpelt went to look for Firestar.

A wind had sprung up, rattling the leafless branches and tearing the clouds into ragged strips, but the undergrowth sheltered by the ring of stone hardly stirred. A gleam of pale sunlight slanted into the hollow, leaving the foot of the cliff in shadow but striking a gentle warmth into the ferns by the entrance. The cats that hadn’t been disturbed by Mousefur’s illness awoke to a far different place from the dark and unwelcoming hollow of the night before. Leafpaw heard them call cheerfully to one another, and spotted Birchkit emerging from a bramble thicket to pounce on a dead leaf. The sight of the kit playing just as he had done back in the forest, before the prey vanished and they were dulled by starvation, made Leafpaw’s heart lift, and she offered silent thanks to StarClan. She forced the confusing shadowy message from her dream to the back of her mind, and told herself that this must be the right place for ThunderClan to settle.

They found Firestar in an open space near the center of the hollow; he had already gathered some of the warriors around him. “We need to get out there right away and mark our boundaries,” Leafpaw heard Dustpelt meow as they approached. “If we don’t, WindClan and ShadowClan will claim all the woodland–and the prey–before you can say mouse.”

“We need to explore the territory as well,” Sandstorm pointed out. “For all we know, these woods could be crawling with foxes and badgers.”

“Not to mention hawks,” Thornclaw added.

Sandstorm murmured agreement. “I’ll see to the hunting patrols, if you’d like,” she meowed to Firestar.

The Clan leader smiled gratefully but shook his head. “While that would be great, I have several announcements I need to make first.”

The warriors already there stared at him, and Leafpaw could hear curious murmurs passing among them.

Raising his head, Firestar called, “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here for a Clan meeting!”

Sandstorm, Dustpelt, and Thornclaw stayed where they were as the rest of the Clan began to trickle towards them. Sorreltail stayed with Mousefur, while Ashfur crouched at the edge of the gathered Clan

“Cats of ThunderClan, this is our first morning in our new territory and I know that not every cat is sure if this is where we are supposed to be,” Firestar began. Several cats nodded agreement and he went on. “In order to make this place feel like our home, there are several things I would like to do. First, Rainwhisker, Sootfur, step forward.”

The two young warriors exchanged looks of surprise, as if they hadn’t been expecting to be called out like this.

“Yesterday, before we left, Mudclaw suggested that each Clan choose two cats to act as messengers. And later, while we were journeying here, you two were discussing how much you wanted the role. Both of you are fast and agile, and I don't think most other cats are quite as eager as you are to do this. Therefore, from this moment forward, you, Sootfur, Rainwhisker, will be messengers for ThunderClan. There is no official ceremony yet, but I’m sure that the leaders will come up with one soon,” Firestar finished.

“Sootfur!” “Rainwhisker!” the Clan called out, cheering. The two new messengers stood tall, their eyes gleaming with pride and delight. “Sootfur!” “Rainwhisker!”

After a moment, Firestar raised his tail in the air, silencing the cats. “The second thing I would like to do is reverse something I did a few seasons ago. As all of you know, Longtail retired to the elders’ den because he was blinded. However, I watched him hunt as much as any cat during our journey here to the lake, and he is clearly still fully capable. This morning I spoke to him and asked if he would like to go back to being a warrior. He agreed.”

“What!” Ashfur growled. “A blind cat can’t be a warrior!”

Sootfur growled at him. “I don’t see any reason why he can’t. Longtail is still as fit and strong as anyone here.”

“Longtail, step forward!” Firestar called. The pale tabby warrior dipped his head and stood where Rainwhisker and Sootfur had been a moment ago. “Unfortunately, I do not know of any actual ceremony to do this,” he admitted. “Probably because most cats don’t want to leave their retirement.” Several cats laughed at this. “So I will try to make this sound official.

“Longtail, you are still young and strong and you have made it clear that you wish to serve as a warrior again. I see no reason to make you swear your allegiance again because you have done so already and have proven yourself countless times over. StarClan honors your perseverance and dedication, and we welcome you once again as a full warrior of ThunderClan!” He nodded to the former elder instead of the usual actions.

The Clan burst out into cheers again. “Longtail!” “Longtail!” “Longtail!” The loudest voices were Ferncloud and Sootfur, both of whom had been Longtail’s apprentices for part of their training, and Dustpelt and Goldenflower, the pale tabby’s closest friends in the Clan.

This time Firestar let the cheering go on a little longer. Leafpaw was pleased that Longtail was being given a chance to be a warrior again.

“Finally, I know that this is something you have all been wishing for me to do,” Firestar began. “While I sincerely hope that Graystripe is still alive, I know that it is foolish for me to wait any longer. It is time for me to choose a new deputy.”

Leafpaw heard Dustpelt mutter, “It’s about time.”

Firestar took a deep breath. “I say these words before StarClan and especially Graystripe, that they may hear and approve my choice. Brackenfur will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”

“Brackenfur!” “Brackenfur!” Once more, the cats broke into cheering.

It was obvious that Firestar had made a popular choice, one that Leafpaw agreed with. Glancing at her mentor, she could tell Cinderpelt was proud of her brother.

“Congratulations!” Brightheart purred, going over to give him a proud lick. Thornclaw nudged Brackenfur affectionately, while Cinderpelt pressed her muzzle against his. Sorreltail stayed where she was to watch over Mousefur, but deep pride shone in her eyes.

Behind her, Leafpaw could hear Spiderpaw and Whitepaw whispering excitedly. “Your mentor is deputy. That is so cool!” Spiderpaw gasped.

“It’s awesome!”

Eventually everyone calmed down so Brackenfur could speak. “Thank you, Firestar,” he murmured. “I know I can’t ever replace Graystripe, but I will do my best to serve ThunderClan in his memory.”

“I didn’t choose you to replace Graystripe,” Firestar told him. “You are the cat this Clan needs and you have proven yourself time and time again.”

“Are we going to send out patrols now? This is very touching, but the borders need to be marked.” It was Ashfur. He sounded bored and annoyed, as if he didn’t care one bit about what was going on.

Firestar gave him a hard stare before nodding. “I’ll leave the patrols up to you Brackenfur.”

Brackenfur seemed to take a moment to think first. Leafpaw wondered if he was nervous, but she was sure he would choose well.

“All right, Sandstorm, I want you to lead a hunting patrol,” he ordered. Leafpaw felt a little stab of pride to think that her mother was one of the best hunters in the Clan.

Dustpelt flicked his ears. “I’ll take charge of guarding the camp–I don’t like the look of that entrance gap. I’ll get the apprentices and see what we can do with some thorns.”

“That’s fine,” Brackenfur agreed. He seemed a bit relieved to not have to give orders to the older warrior. “Brambleclaw, since you know part of the territory, you can lead a boundary patrol towards ShadowClan.” He paused for a moment. “That’s a huge job, so I’ll go with you. We don’t exactly know where the boundaries are going to be.”

Firestar was murmuring to Cloudtail. “I want you to take a patrol and work outward from the camp,” the Clan leader ordered. “Report back on anything you think I should know about. It’s not just the boundaries we need to think about–I want to know what’s inside them, too.” Cloudtail agreed with a wave of his tail.

“What about me?” Thornclaw asked.

Cinderpelt limped forward. “Excuse me, Thornclaw. Firestar, we have a problem.” She quickly told him about Mousefur’s bellyache. “I want to go out and find the right herbs,” she explained, “and then take some to WindClan. All the Clans could have drunk the water, but WindClan is weakest, so they’re most at risk.”

Firestar thought for a moment before he replied. His expression was hard to read, and Leafpaw wondered if he was reluctant to spend time and energy helping another Clan now that they were establishing their new territories.

“We can’t leave WindClan to suffer if there’s something we can do,” Cinderpelt urged.

“All the medicine cats know how to treat bellyache,” Firestar reminded her. “But you’re right, Cinderpelt: WindClan has been through enough, and it’s the kits and elders who’ll suffer. Thornclaw, Rainwhisker, and Sootfur can go with you.”

Cinderpelt stared at him. “With five cats, they’re bound to think we’re invading them.”

“Or Mudclaw will appreciate that I’m sending along ThunderClan’s messengers. I assume he’ll be at least somewhat happy to know we’ve already chosen ours.”

“You could be right. I’ll just check on Mousefur and the others, and then we’ll go.”

Leafpaw followed Cinderpelt back to Mousefur’s nest. The brown warrior was asleep, with Sorreltail dozing beside her. Goldenflower had joined them, clearly asleep.

Sorreltail blinked her eyes open. “I think everything’s fine,” she meowed, sounding embarrassed. “Mousefur’s been asleep ever since you left. But her scent’s almost back to normal and so is Goldenflower’s.”

Cinderpelt bent her head over Mousefur and then Goldenflower, sniffed them, and listened to their breathing. “They’ll be okay now,” she meowed, straightening. “You might as well go, Sorreltail. You’ll be needed on one of the patrols. Thanks for staying with Mousefur.”

Sorreltail raced off, waving her tail at Leafpaw as she passed.

The medicine cats went back to the center of the camp, where the warriors were dividing into their patrols. Leafpaw saw Brambleclaw heading purposefully toward Squirrelflight, but before he reached her, Ashfur walked over.

“Sandstorm wants you for the hunting patrol,” he growled.

Squirrelflight tensed. “Sure. Are you going to be on the hunting patrol?”

He opened his mouth to speak but Brambleclaw called out, “Ashfur, Brackenfur wants you to come with us on the boundary patrol.”

The gray warrior narrowed his eyes but nodded. “Fine, I’m coming.” He spun around and shouldered roughly past Leafpaw.

Squirrelflight visibly relaxed, and Leafpaw saw her send a grateful look toward Brambleclaw. His face softened and he gave her a nearly imperceptible nod.

“Wake up.” Cinderpelt prodded her in the side. “The others are ready. Let’s go.”

Leafpaw’s paws tingled with excitement as they headed for the gap in the rock wall. Dustpelt was giving orders to Spiderpaw and Whitepaw about clearing unwanted thorns from the camp to build a barrier. “I don’t want so much as a mouse to get in and out,” he meowed.

“What, not even cats?” Spiderpaw asked cheekily, drawing a mrrow of amusement from Whitepaw. He waved his tail.

Dustpelt sighed, rolling his eyes. “We’ll leave a tunnel, mousebrain.”

Leafpaw pushed her way into a patch of ferns, which looked less prickly than the bramble bushes next to it, and paused in the middle, breathing in the strong green scent around her. On the other side, beyond the gap that led into the stone hollow, the unknown forest lay waiting.

No–ThunderClan’s new forest lay waiting.

“Are you stuck?” Thornclaw asked, nearly bumping into Leafpaw as he pushed through the ferns. Leafpaw sprang forward, out out of the sharp-smelling stems. “Sorry,” she puffed.

Thornclaw followed more slowly and looked at her. “It’s all a bit strange, isn’t it?” he mewed. “But this is as strange as it will ever feel, remember that. We only have to explore once for it to seem more like home.”

Feeling comforted, Leafpaw padded beside him, away from the hollow. Rainwhisker was on her other side. “It might be strange, but it’s also exciting,” he purred. “So much for us find out here.”

“Yeah, plus, now we might get to learn to fish,” Sootfur added.

Thornclaw stared at him as if he’d grown another head. “You want to learn how to fish?” he asked incredulously.

Sootfur flicked his tail. “I’ve always wanted to. I bet it’d be really cool to swim too.”

“My brother the wannabe RiverClan cat,” Rainwhisker teased.

“I’m not the only one who wants to learn,” Sootfur defended himself. “Spiderpaw wants to as well. He said he wants to learn how to catch as many types of prey as possible so he doesn’t lose anyone else the way he lost–”

“His sisters,” Thornclaw finished. “I knew he was missing them but I didn’t realize he blames himself.”

Rainwhisker sighed. “He thinks that if he’d been more focused, he might have brought back more food and Hollykit and Larchkit would have been stronger.”

Thornclaw bowed his head. “He’s not the only one who blames himself. It was my idea for Shrewpaw and I to split up for hunting. If I had been there–”

“You might have been killed by the monster too,” Cinderpelt cut him off. “It wasn’t your fault. The Twolegs took over more territory than we could afford. You don’t know that you could have saved Shrewpaw; for all we know, you might have died too.”

“Sometimes it’s just a cat’s time to die,” Leafpaw whispered. “And even a medicine cat can’t save them.”

They fell into a somber silence. When she looked back a few moments later, the stone cliffs had vanished among the trees, and all she could see were smooth gray trunks and branches that trembled in the wind. She was pleased to think her Clanmates were sheltered by the towering walls, invisible and safe in the middle of the woods.

Voices sounded up ahead, and they rounded a study oak tree to find Cloudtail, Brightheart, and Sorreltail sniffing suspiciously at a gap between the roots. This was the patrol that Firestar had sent out to explore the territory that lay closest to the hollow.

“Fox,” Leafpaw heard Cloudtail meow.

Brightheart lifted her head and carefully tasted the air. “It’s very stale,” she decided. “I think it’s been moons since the fox has been there.”

“Shall I go in to look?” Sorreltail offered.

Brightheart shook her head. “Didn’t your mentor ever warn you about going into strange holes? We can smell there’s nothing there. Let’s keep going.”

Sootfur snorted. “Sandstorm did tell her not to go into strange holes, but Sorreltail is quite fond of doing the most impulsive things she can think of.”

Sorreltail called out a greeting to her brothers and Leafpaw, then followed the older warriors as they headed deeper into the woods.

Leafpaw stopped to let Cinderpelt catch up, and gazed around her. Trees stretched away on all sides, their branches interwoven so tightly that only tiny splinters of sky showed through. The trees weren’t as tall as the one in the forest, but Leafpaw guessed that in greenleaf, their leaves would form a thick, cooling canopy. Most of the ground was covered by short grass with spikes of snowdrops thrusting upward, and the occasional clump of thornbushes and bramble thickets. It was more exposed than Leafpaw was used to, and she hoped that ferns and other plants would grow in newleaf to provide homes for prey, and to make the cats feel safer as they patrolled their territory.

Cinderpelt reached her and limped steadily on, following the sound of running water. “We’re not likely to find juniper here,” she commented, padding side by side with her, while Thornclaw dropped back alongside Sootfur and Rainwhisker.

“We could always use watermint or chervil root,” Leafpaw suggested.

“They would both be fine,” Cinderpelt agreed with a nod of approval. “Watermint should be easier to find than chervil root.”

They reached the stream, which flowed in a deep cleft between the tangled roots of overhanging trees. Leafpaw stood on the bank and looked for signs of the leafy green plant, but all she could see was water sliding over gray stone about a tail-length below her, with bright green ferns trailing over the edge of the bank.

“Let’s try the other side,” Thornclaw suggested when they came to a place where the banks sloped down and they could splash across.

Cinderpelt agreed, but it was much the same: open woodland with little in the way of undergrowth. Then Leafpaw smelled damp soil, a bit like the marsh at the far end of the lake. Watermint didn’t have to grow in a stream–sometimes wet earth was enough. She raced ahead, pushing her way through some spiky tussocks of grass, and spotted the tall, leafy stems half-hidden in a clump of bracken.

“Good work!” Cinderpelt praised her, coming to join her. “There’s enough here to supply us regularly.”

Tipping their heads to one side, they bit through several stalks. Leafpaw’s eyes watered as sap clung to her fur, filling her mouth with the pungent scent.

“I’d better get back to camp,” Cinderpelt meowed when they had finished picking the watermint. “Thornclaw, will you and the others take Leafpaw to WindClan now?”

“We’ll see you home first,” meowed Thornclaw. “I don’t think any cat should be alone in these woods until we know a bit more about them.”

He led them back by a different route, calculating from the way the ground sloped that it should lead more quickly to the stone hollow. They passed beneath some beech trees, and Leafpaw’s belly rumbled as the scent of squirrel flooded over her.

Thornclaw tasted the air with a gleam in his eyes, and Leafpaw guessed he was ravenous too. “Do we have time to hunt?” he asked Cinderpelt.

She set down her stems of watermint. “If we don’t take too long.”

“This won’t take long at all,” Thornclaw promised. He flicked his ears toward the nearest tree, and Leafpaw spotted a squirrel among the roots, nibbling a beechnut.

Thornclaw paused for a moment to judge the direction of the breeze, then began stealthily working his way so that he approached the squirrel from downwind. Bunching his hindquarters under him, he pounced; the squirrel gave one spasmodic kick and was still.

Meanwhile, Rainwhisker and Sootfur had disappeared into the trees around them. When they returned, Rainwhisker had a thrush in his jaws.

“Come on,” Thornclaw called. “There’s enough for all of us.”

The fresh-kill was delicious, and Leafpaw offered a quick prayer of thanks to StarClan for bringing them to a place where the prey was plump–and slow. Her mouth was filled with the scent of the squirrel, so she had no warning when three cats suddenly appeared around the trunk of a tree a little way off. They paused for a heartbeat when they spotted the ThunderClan cats, and then loped toward them. As they drew closer, Leafpaw realized it was a WindClan patrol made up of Tornear, his apprentice, Owlpaw, and Whitetail.

Swallowing his last bit of fresh-kill, Thornclaw rose to his paws, but Tornear spoke first.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “This is WindClan territory.”

“What do you mean, WindClan territory?” Thornclaw stared at him in surprise. Behind him, the younger warriors rose to their paws as well. “They boundaries haven’t been marked yet.”

“We’re marking them now,” Whitetail explained, sounding faintly embarrassed. “Firestar said that the stream that runs along the foot of the hill would be the boundary, and this is on WindClan’s side.”

“Firestar also said that was only a suggestion,” Thornclaw reminded the WindClan cats. He waved his tail around. “Look. trees. This is the sort of place where ThunderClan are best at hunting. You need moorland and rabbits, right?”

Sootfur winced. “He’s talking to them like they’re apprentices fresh out of the nursery,” he muttered.

“Yeah. Tornear and Whitetail are experienced warriors, and Owlpaw’s going to receive his name as soon as Mudclaw gets his name and lives, right?” Rainwhisker pointed out.

Owlpaw joined them, putting his head in closer so he could join their whispered conversation. “Yes, I’m going to be made a warrior soon. So is my brother.”

“Where is Weaselpaw?” Rainwhisker wondered.

“He’s with Crowfeather, Nightcloud, and the new apprentices. It’s basically an assessment for him. Crowfeather and Nightcloud are teaching them to hunt, and Weaselpaw is showing them the techniques.”

“Wait, Mudclaw is letting an apprentice teach other apprentices?” Sootfur said incredulously.

Owlpaw shrugged. “Yeah, WindClan does that sometimes. If an older apprentice knows how to hunt or fight well enough, they should be able to show the newer apprentices how to do it too.”

“That’s a great idea!” Sootfur exclaimed. “We never got to train with younger apprentices. Spiderpaw and Shrewpaw were born after we were apprenticed.”

Rainwhisker frowned. “We traveled with your Clan for over a moon, and somehow none of you mentioned it. How is that possible?”

“Do Clans normally share training strategies?” Tornear cut, suddenly appearing directly in front of the younger cats.

All of them flinched in surprise. “Tornear, I–”

Tornear touched his muzzle to Owlpaw’s ear. “It’s all right. We’ve spent so much time together it’s hard to forget the friendships we’ve made.”

“As far as training methods go, the one you’ve mentioned does not betray any special skills of WindClan’s,” Whitetail added. “It would be beneficial to all the Clans.”

“Then maybe the messengers could pass it on to their Clans?” Owlpaw suggested. “As a show of good faith.”

The WindClan warriors gave each other thoughtful looks. “That’s not entirely a bad idea, although I’m not sure if any of the Clans have apprentices close enough to becoming warriors, and brand new apprentices, to make that work,” Tornear noted.

“RiverClan does,” Rainwhisker offered. “From what I remember, Volepaw only has a few moons left in his training, and they have several younger apprentices.”

“But ThunderClan does not, at least right now,” Thornclaw pointed out. “And I think that messengers should only share training methods with their own Clans. If you two tried to pass this on to Leopardstar, she’d claw your ears.”

Owlpaw purred excitedly. “Wait, you’re messengers?”

Sootfur nodded. “We really wanted to be, and Firestar chose us.”

“Congratulations! I wish I could be a messenger,” Owlpaw meowed.

“Mudclaw has already chosen messengers,” Whitetail reminded him. “And they won’t be training any apprentices who’ve already started their apprenticeships.”

“Who are the WindClan messengers?” Cinderpelt asked curiously.

Tornear twitched his ears. “How about we bring your messengers to learn this information and then tell ThunderClan? Consider it their first chance to practice.”

“Please can we go?” Rainwhisker asked. “This is what we’re supposed to be doing, right?”

“We won’t wander off, and we’ll do only what the WindClan cats tell us,” Sootfur added.

Cinderpelt gave them amused looks. “Very well; but only if they let Leafpaw come with you.”

The words caused Whitetail to spot the pile of watermint stems. “Are those for bellyache?” she asked.

“Yes,” Leafpaw replied, feeling somewhat relieved she’d gotten a chance to speak, and without embarrassing herself, though a little guilty she’d been too distracted to hear the older cats’ conversation. “Are some of your cats ill too?”

Whitetail cast a swift glance at Tornear before she replied. “Yes,” she answered. “Morningflower and Darkfoot.”

“Morningflower?” That was worrying. Leafpaw knew the WindClan queen had always been a friend to ThunderClan. “What is Barkface doing for her?”

“There’s not much he can do without herbs,” Tornear answered. “The last I heard, he’d gone looking for juniper. I just hope he doesn’t take too long. Morningflower looked pretty sick to me.”

Leafpaw spun around to face her mentor. “I can go with Rainwhisker and Sootfur right now and take some watermint to WindClan,” she mewed. “These cats can show us the way, and Thornclaw can go back to the hollow with you.”

Cinderpelt dipped her head. “Of course,” she meowed. “But at least try to be as quick as you can.”

All the older warriors looked relieved to have something more urgent to think about than the issue of boundaries. Thornclaw and Cinderpelt set off toward the stone hollow. Sootfur and Rainwhisker were practically vibrating in their excitement, as was Owlpaw. The young cats were clearly delighted to spend some time together soon after the Clans’ separation.

The WindClan cats led them to the edge of the trees, where the stream curved deep into the woods, away from the foot of the hills, and across open moorland. Then they climbed more steeply beside another stream that fell in a series of tiny, bubbling waterfalls. A few stunted thorns grew along the banks, with traces of rabbit scent clinging here and there.

At last they came to the top of a rise, fringed by bushes, and Leafpaw found herself looking down into the WindClan camp. The sides weren’t as steep as the cliffs around ThunderClan’s hollow, but the smooth, bare slopes gave no cover for attackers.

Leafpaw spotted Mudclaw and Ashfoot talking with a couple of the warriors near a scatter of boulders in the center of the dip.

“I’ll take you straight to Morningflower,” Whitetail meowed.

“And I’ll let Mudclaw know you’re here,” Tornear added, heading down the slope with Owlpaw and the ThunderClan messengers.

Whitetail led Leafpaw to a knot of gorse bushes at the far side of the hollow. Leafpaw’s pelt pricked under the stares of WindClan warriors as she padded past, but they were curious rather than hostile.

Morningflower lay on a bed of ferns in the shelter of the bushes. Darkfoot was curled up a tail-length away, but Leafpaw couldn’t take her horrified gaze from the old she-cat. Morningflower lay limply stretched out, her breathing harsh and shallow. Her belly was distended, and a sour smell of vomit came from her. Her eyes were closed, and she was still except for the occasional twitch of her flank. To Leafpaw, she looked as if she were barely a pawstep away from joining StarClan.

Setting down the watermint stems, Leafpaw bent her head closer to Morningflower, but before she could do more than set one paw gently on her belly, she was interrupted by a furious snarl.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Chapter Text

Crowfeather led Weaselpaw, Antpaw, and Dewpaw through the moorland, Nightcloud by his side. 

Antpaw and Dewpaw had not had a chance to properly begin their training, having only just been apprenticed just before the Clan left the forest. Their mother Runningbrook had been one the cats to die from the poisoned rabbits, and their father Gorsetail had been captured and taken away by the Twolegs alongside Graystripe. Tallstar had made the two young cats apprentices early so that they would have mentors to watch over them.

Mudclaw had decided that Crowfeather and Nightcloud should take the apprentices out for hunting, with Weaselpaw acting as an extra mentor. Crowfeather was enjoying spending this time with the younger members of his Clan, something he’d never even considered before he’d left on his quest. Back then he’d been so focused on earning his warrior name that he’d avoided the nursery, and there were no younger apprentices, with Weaselpaw and Owlpaw being only a few days younger than he was.

“Are we hunting or not?” Antpaw demanded, sounding impatient.

“Calm down,” Weaselpaw told him. “Before we can hunt, we want to find a place that will have a lot of prey.”

Nightcloud nodded. “And I thought you might want to explore the new territory,” she added.

Dewpaw nodded enthusiastically. “I want to explore!” she exclaimed. “We never got to see the territory in the old forest, or Fourtrees. Runningbrook said she would bring us to see it, but…” Her voice trailed off.

“She died,” Antpaw finished curtly. “And we don’t need to sit around gossipping about it. Let’s just go.”

“Ah, Nightcloud, it seems the new apprentices are giving the orders on this patrol,” Crowfeather joked.

She purred. “Whatever is the Clan coming to?”

Antpaw’s shoulders drooped. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Crowfeather assured him. He reached out to touch the younger cat’s shoulder with his tail, but he stepped out of reach.

Nightcloud took the lead  and headed downhill in the direction of ThunderClan’s territory. Weaselpaw and Dewpaw were still excited, since it was everyone’s first time exploring fully. Dewpaw was loudly imagining how much prey she was going to catch, only to be caught by surprise when Weaselpaw shot out a paw and knocked her off balance. Before she could recover, Weaselpaw had wrestled her to the ground and gently pinned her down.

“Looks like I’ve caught the first prey,” he laughed.

“If only that were true,” Crowfeather teased. “It doesn’t look as tasty as rabbit, so you’d better let it go.”

Weaselpaw stepped off Dewpaw, who was purring so hard she could hardly speak. “I’ll…get…you…next time,” she promised.

Antpaw was trailing behind the others, a solemn look on his face. Crowfeather wanted to talk to him, but he shook his head and turned away.

“He just needs time,” Nightcloud murmured.

Crowfeather sighed. “I know somewhat how he feels. If he ever wants to talk…”

There was a faint breeze blowing, and the sky was blue, with only a few patches of clouds. Crowfeather closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the breeze rippling his fur. Opening his mouth to scent the air, he caught the scent of rabbit.

Nightcloud had scented it too, turning slowly towards the direction the scent was coming from. “This is going to be fun,” she meowed. “I can already taste that rabbit.”

She’d no sooner spoken when a rabbit burst out in front of them, fleeing across the moor. Nightcloud raced after it, and Crowfeather couldn’t help admiring her strong graceful bounds and the way her muscles rippled under her black pelt.

She’s perfect, he thought.

Beside him, Weaselpaw was trying to get his attention. “Crowfeather? Crowfeather, aren’t we going to use this as an example?” When Crowfeather didn’t respond, Weaselpaw jabbed him in the side.

Crowfeather blinked. “Right, sorry.” He turned to Dewpaw and Antpaw. “Watch Nightcloud,” he instructed her. “See how quickly she reacted? And when the when the rabbit changes direction, she doesn’t lose a step. Why is that?”

Dewpaw’s head tilted as she searched for the answer. “I don’t know.”

“Because she’s predicting what the rabbit is going to do?” Antpaw guessed hesitantly.

“Exactly,” Weaselpaw said. “Well done.”

Crowfeather nodded, explaining, “Being a good hunter is all about thinking. When chasing prey, especially rabbits, you must always be alert to its best route of escape. You can’t just follow it. You have to work out where it’s going to run and how to stop it from going where it wants to. That’s what Nightcloud is doing now.”

“She’s amazing!” Dewpaw exclaimed.

“Nightcloud is one of WindClan’s best hunters,” Weaselpaw agreed. “And she might not be your mentor, but I’m sure she’ll give you some extra tips if you ask her.”

As he spoke, the rabbit vanished behind an outcrop of rocks, with Nightcloud hard on its paws. A shill squeal of terror was abruptly  cut off, and a moment later, Nightcloud emerged from the rocks with the limp body of the rabbit dangling from her jaws.

“She got it!” Antpaw cheered, finally sounding happier.

“Brilliant catch!” Crowfeather  meowed heartily as Nightcloud padded back to the rest of the patrol.

Nightcloud purred and rubbed against him. “Thanks.”

“Um, guys, you’re supposed to be teaching hunting techniques, not mooning over each other,” Weaselpaw groaned.

“Sorry, Weaselpaw,” Crowfeather mewed. He turned back to the apprentices. 

Nightcloud started to bury the rabbit so that she could collect it later. Once she had finished scraping earth over it, the patrol continued farther down the hill. Crowfeather was the first to  to spot the black-tipped ears of a hare poking up from where the creature was crouching in a shallow dip in the ground.

“Who can tell me what the problem is here?” he asked the younger apprentices in a low voice.

Dewpaw waved her tail excitedly but had had the sense to speak in a quiet murmur as she answered. “The breeze is blowing from us to the hare.”

“Right,” Weaselpaw mewed, while Crowfeather felt proud that the she-cat had spoken first and had known the answer this time.  “So it’s going to scent us long before we can get up close enough to pounce. What do you think we should do about that?”

“Move around so we’re in a better place?” Antpaw guessed.

“Good,” Nightcloud praised him. “And this is one of the times when it’s better to hunt in a team, rather than alone. Weaselpaw, work your way around until you’re on the far side of the hare. Crowfeather, when he gives the signal, you and Antpaw chase the hare over to him.”

Crowfeather nodded. With this being the apprentices’ first time, it makes sense to give that task to one of them, and let them have a warrior to help. Plus, Antpaw clearly has a knack for hunting instincts, so if something goes wrong, he’ll likely be able to improvise. “Okay.”

Weaselpaw nodded and set off at once, creeping along with his belly fur brushing the ground, taking advantage of every scrap of cover.  Crowfeather could barely make out his ginger pelt among the tussocks of wiry grass. The younger apprentices watched, their claws flexing in anticipation.

But before Weaselpaw was in position, a stronger gust of wind passed over the ground. The hare’s head lifted from its cover, its nose twitching.

Then it sprang, fleeing back up the hill, forcing itself along with powerful strokes of its hind legs. Weaselpaw rose to his paws, his tail lashing in frustration. “Fox dung!” he exclaimed.

Crowfeather shook his head at the apprentices before they could go after it, then hurled himself after the hare, quickly noticing that a black shape was streaking alongside him. Nightcloud.

“I’ll try to overtake it,” she gasped. “Drive it back to you.”

She put on an extra burst of speed, flashing past the hare and turning to confront it with teeth bared and claws extended.  The hare almost tripped over its paws as it doubled back, skidding downhill. Crowfeather bunched his hind legs, launching into a leap, then landed on top of it and sank his fangs into its throat.

Once the hare was dead, Crowfeather stood back, panting, and waited for Nightcloud to rejoin him. “Nice job!” she purred, celebrating the triumph of the catch with him.

“I never would have gotten it if you hadn’t driven back to me.”

She smiled and began leading him back to the others. He picked up the hare and followed her.

When they rejoined the others, Weaselpaw was meowing, “Not only is Nightcloud one of our best hunters, she’s also the fastest.”

“Wow, that’s huge!”  Dewpaw exclaimed, as Crowfeather dropped his prey in front of Weaselpaw.

The older apprentice looked embarrassed. “Sorry about that,” he apologized guiltily.

Crowfeather shook his head and touched his tail to Weaselpaw’s shoulder. “Don’t be,” he said. “It was just bad luck that the wind picked up. And we were trying to demonstrate teamwork.”

Weaselpaw brightened. “Let’s go farther down,” he suggested.  “We might find some smaller prey nearer the stream, and the younger ones can have a try.”

*  *  *  *  *

The hunting had gone well. By the time they returned to camp, both apprentices had caught a mouse, and Weaselpaw had surprised another rabbit.

“I see StarClan was with you,” Webfoot meowed when he saw the fresh-kill they were carrying.

“And I trust my apprentice didn’t give you any trouble,” Ashfoot checked.

Crowfeather purred. “She was very enthusiastic.”

“Dewpaw listened well and was eager to learn,” Nightcloud added. “And Antpaw has a fine instinct for hunting.”

“Weaselpaw will make a fine warrior,” Crowfeather added, turning to Webfoot. “You’ve trained him well.” Webfoot dipped his head.

Suddenly, Weaselpaw perked up and dashed to the center of the camp, where Rainwhisker and Sootfur were speaking with Mudclaw and Owlpaw. He hurled himself on top of the ThunderClan cats with a delighted mrrow.

“Hi, Weaselpaw,” Sootfur meowed from underneath him. “It’s good to see you too.”

“What are you guys doing here?” Weaselpaw asked excitedly. “I hadn’t expected to see you so soon.”

Rainwhisker grinned. “We’re ThunderClan’s new messengers.”

“Really? That’s awesome! That means I’ll get to see you all the time!” Weaselpaw exclaimed.

Mudclaw gave him a stern, though warm, look. “Yes, and the goal is definitely for you to have a chance to hang out with your friends from other Clans,” he said dryly.

Weaselpaw winced. “Sorry, Mudclaw.”

“It’s all right,” Mudclaw assured him. “I’m glad they came. Firestar choosing and sending his messengers so soon gives me hope that this will work out.”

“Crowfeather!” He looked down to see Darkkit racing toward him. “Onewhisker is being mean to Leafpaw!”

“Leafpaw’s here?” Why?

Ashfoot saw his confusion and said, “She came back with our patrol to give some watermint to Morningflower and Darkfoot.”

“Yeah, she’s really nice,” Darkkit purred. “But Onewhisker is being really mean!”

Crowfeather sighed. “All right, I’ll go check it out.” He followed the kit.

Darkfoot was chewing something Leafpaw must have given him when he arrived. Onewhisker was hovering over the medicine cat apprentice, his face dark.

A choking sound came from Morningflower; the old she-cat retching feebly, her legs jerking.

“What have you done to her!” Onewhisker snarled. “She’s getting worse.”

He shoved Leafpaw aside and she leaped backwards. When she tried to dodge around him to get back to her patient, he bared his teeth at her.

“Stop!” Crowfeather snapped. Leafpaw spun around when she heard him. “Onewhisker, what do you think you’re doing? Leafpaw is trying to help.”

“She shouldn’t be here,” Onewhisker growled.

“Are you saying she shouldn’t try to save the life of one of our cats?” Mudclaw’s voice steady, but tense with anger. Crowfeather didn’t flinch, though he hadn’t realized his leader had followed. When Onewhisker didn’t reply, he ordered, “Out. Now. Leafpaw doesn’t need you growling at her.” Onewhisker glared at him, but left the den.

Leafpaw dipped her head. “Thank you, Mudclaw.”

“Onewhisker is acting like a grumpy kit right now,” he muttered. “If he comes back to give you more trouble, let me know.”

“I can stay with her,” Crowfeather offered.

Mudclaw nodded in approval. “That’s fine. I wanted Whitetail for another hunting patrol anyways.” He turned and pushed under the branches, Whitetail following him. “Come on, Darkkit.” The kit sighed, but obeyed.

The fur on Leafpaw’s shoulders relaxed. “Well, I guess we can concentrate on helping Morningflower,” she mewed. “We need to get some more watermint down her.”

She chewed up most of the leaves, and Crowfeather held Morningflower’s mouth open while she pushed the pulp in her mouth. Crowfeather brushed against her pelt in silent encouragement.

Morningflower had gone limp, as if she were exhausted. Leafpaw sat beside her, stroking her belly gently with her tail.

After a while, the older she-cat’s breathing seemed to grow stronger. Darkfoot was dozing, occasionally letting out a rusty purr.

“Are they getting better?” Crowfeather whispered.

“I think so,” Leafpaw replied. “I’m sure Darkfoot will be fine. It’s Morningflower I’m worried about.”

“Leafpaw.” A shadow fell across Morningflower’s body, and both cats looked up to see Barkface. “It’s good to see you.” He spoke around a leaf-wrapped bundle; when he set it down, the leaves fell back to show a few shriveled juniper berries.

“Barkface, I hope you don’t mind,” Leafpaw began nervously. “I met some of your Clan in the woods, and they said Morningflower was very ill. We’ve had the same trouble, so–”

Barkface interrupted her with a wave of his tail. “You’re very welcome here. I’ve no idea yet where the best herbs grow–I only found one juniper bush, and birds must have taken most of the berries.” Sniffing carefully at Morningflower, he added, “She’s better than when I left. What are you giving her–watermint? Good thinking, though I’d use juniper myself, if I could find enough.”

“She’s done a wonderful job,” Crowfeather meowed. “Even with Onewhisker acting like he was going to rip her fur off.”

Barkface sighed. “I can’t believe he’s changed so much. But you’d both better go before he tries to pick another fight.”

Leaving what was left of the watermint, Leafpaw rose to her paws. “Let me know how Morningflower gets on.”

“I will. I’ll send one of the messengers,” Barkface promised, smiling.

Leafpaw pushed her way out of the bush, and Crowfeather followed. Mudclaw was in the center of the camp with some of the warriors around him, speaking to Rainwhisker and Sootfur. Meanwhile, Onewhisker was sitting right outside the den, clearly waiting for them to emerge.

“Well, how’s Morningflower?” he demanded. “I don’t suppose you actually helped her.”

Somehow keeping her composure, Leafpaw meowed, “I think she’ll be fine. Barkface is with her.”

“We can’t thank you enough,” Mudclaw said, coming to join them. “Tornear told me that when he met you, he and Thornclaw were having a dispute over the boundary in the woods, though when I asked your messengers about this, they apparently had not been paying attention to that conversation.”

Leafpaw winced, and Crowfeather guessed that she hadn’t been paying attention to the warriors’ argument either. “They were happy to see their friend so soon,” she explained.

“They mentioned that.” Mudclaw sounded amused. “I’ve decided that we cannot just give up that territory to your Clan, even after you’ve helped us. However, I am willing to allow your messengers to use that piece of land for meetings with WindClan’s messengers, and perhaps, if they want it, receive training in speed and agility.”

“That’s very generous of you!” Leafpaw said. She sounded surprised. Crowfeather was too; he’d never expected something like this from Mudclaw of all cats, though he guessed his leader was trying to do everything in his power to make the new Clan role succeed.

“Are you completely mouse-brained?” Onewhisker growled. “You’re giving away WindClan territory for a pawful of healing herbs? Barkface was perfectly capable of treating the sick cats without this apprentice sticking her nose in.”

Mudclaw faced him. “Onewhisker, you are a fool if you think that’s what I’m doing. As I said, I’m not giving away territory, I’m using at a place for the messengers to meet without always having to go all the way to either camp. In fact, that would be wise for all the Clans to establish.”

Onewhisker snarled, curling his lip to reveal sharp yellow teeth. Beside Crowfeather, Leafpaw had sunk her claws into the ground nervously, trying not to shrink away from the warrior.

“What Mudclaw said is a wise suggestion,” Crowfeather agreed. “He knows what’s best for WindClan and I trust him.”

His leader nodded. “When the messengers are not meeting, WindClan will still use that land for hunting, and Barkface will be able to collect herbs there.”

The warriors dipped their heads, looking satisfied with this arrangement. Onewhisker, unfortunately, turned away and muttered, “Traitor!” in a voice just loud enough to be overheard.

Leafpaw seemed to be getting more anxious. Mudclaw must have noticed this because he meowed, “You’ll want to be getting back, as will your messengers.”

“May I go with Leafpaw as far as ThunderClan’s camp?” Crowfeather asked. “I know I’m not one of WindClan’s messengers, but I want to make sure they get back safely and see what Firestar says about our messengers.”

Mudclaw dipped his head. “Of course. But once you get back, I’d suggest you get some rest. You already led a training session as well.”

“I will,” Crowfeather said. He turned and motioned to Sootfur and Rainwhisker. “Come on.”

He whisked around and headed up the slope to the edge of the camp. Turning back, he saw Leafpaw nod a hasty farewell to Mudclaw and bound after him with her Clanmates behind her. He set a fast pace, wanting to see how well the two toms would keep up. If they couldn’t, as messengers, they would have to get faster. The speed he was moving meant that there was no chance for conversation, but there was no tension among the cats.

Crowfeather realized he was leading them a different route than they had taken when he saw all three looking around in amazement. They came to the stream, and he nimbly led them across some stepping stones back into ThunderClan territory. Not long after that, he recognized the bushes Squirrelflight had chased the vole into when she’d first discovered the hollow. Leafpaw traded places with him and led them down to a gap in the cliffs. When they reached the entrance, he saw that a thorn barrier was partly in place, and inside, a fresh-kill pile had appeared on a cleared space among the brambles.

Firestar was standing by a thicket. Squirrelflight was there as well, helping Ferncloud drag out long tendrils of bramble.

“We could make a good nursery in here,” Ferncloud panted, reaching up with her hind paw to unhook a thorn from her flank. “It’s right up against the rock wall, so it’ll be sheltered in bad weather. We need to make more space inside though.”

“That won’t take long,” Squirrelflight assured her, energetically dragging away a bramble twice as long as she was, while Birchkit pounced playfully on the other end.

Brambleclaw appeared with a ball of moss and carried it through the entrance of the new nursery. Crowfeather was impressed that his friends were prepared to help with apprentice tasks, though he realized they were just as determined to help their Clan settle into the new home they’d found as was to help his.

Ferncloud followed him inside to help arrange it. Birchkit gave up hunting the end of Squirrelflight’s bramble, and bundled after his mother.

“Firestar, Crowfeather’s here.” Leafpaw dipped her head to the ThunderClan leader. “He came back with us from WindClan.”

“Thanks.” Firestar padded over to join them. “Is everything okay?”

“Leafpaw helped Morningflower,” he told Firestar gratefully.

“It was a team effort,” she pointed out.

Firestar looked at Sootfur and Rainwhisker. “How did your first run as messengers go?”

“We learned that WindClan’s messengers are Nightcloud and Snowflight,” Sootfur replied.

Rainwhisker nodded. “Mudclaw also said that WindClan will not give up the piece of territory both Clans were disputing over, but he will allow it to be used for the messengers’ meetings so no cat has to go all the way to the other’s camp. He suggested that the other Clans do the same. He will allow ThunderClan’s messengers to receive training for running while on this land.”

“That sounds fair,” Firestar agreed. “Tell Mudclaw that I accept his offer.”

“I should head back now,” Crowfeather said.

“Thanks for bringing us back,” Leafpaw meowed.

Crowfeather nodded. “Anytime.” He started to head out of the camp.

“Hey!” Squirrelflight called after him. “Ignore your old friends, why don’t you?”

He turned back. “Sorry, Squirrelflight. It’s good to see you, but I have to get back.”

She ran over and licked his muzzle. “Well, I suppose you should go then. I’ll see you at the Gathering, I hope.”

“See you then.”

Giving her a friendly nod, he made the short climb out of the hollow and padded through the trees, ready to go home. Watch over them, he prayed to StarClan.

Chapter Text

Cool grass swept against Hawkfrost’s pelt as he prowled through the undergrowth. He could hear the scuttering of tiny creatures underneath the bushes, and his senses were flooded with the scent of prey.

Before he could make a catch, he emerged into an open space. An almost-full moon hung in the clear sky, outlining every grass stem and leaf with pale silver rays. Just in front of him, the ground fell away into a cleft, with rocks jutting from its steep sides.

Hawkfrost stared in astonishment. This isn’t RiverClan territory. Confused, he realized that it must be the ravine leading to the old ThunderClan camp. And that meant–

Ahead of him, Brambleclaw pelted down the ravine to the gorse tunnel at the bottom. Hawkfrost could guess what his brother was thinking: he was home again, in a time where the Twolegs had never come and the Clans were safe. Clearly he’d never been summoned to a dream with their father before.

Staying in the shadows, he crept after Brambleclaw, watching as the other warrior excitedly pushed his way through the gorse tunnel into the camp, his jaws parted to let out a yowl of agreement, coming to a dead stop in shock. The clearing was empty except for one cat, Tigerstar, who was sitting completely alone in the middle of the open space.

Tigerstar raised his head and gazed at Brambleclaw with scorching amber eyes. The realization of what was going on must have hit Brambleclaw, because he stiffened and then drooped like a wet leaf.

Tigerstar kinked his tail and beckoned Brambleclaw to come closer. Brambleclaw stiffened again, then padded slowly forward.

“Welcome,” Tigerstar rumbled. “I have waited for many moons to speak with you.”

That’s because StarClan protected him by sending him on the quest, Hawkfrost thought. You couldn’t reach him.

Brambleclaw stopped a couple of tail-lengths away, seeming unsure what to say. It made sense. Hawkfrost knew that Brambleclaw had been there the day their father had died. He’d even rejected him just a few moments before.

“I have seen your courage and strength,” Tigerstar went on. “I am proud to call you kin.”

I’ll bet you are.

“Th-thank you.” Brambleclaw was kneading his forepaws on the ground. “Why have you come here? Did StarClan send you?”

“I do not hunt with StarClan,” spat Tigerclaw. “There is more sky than Silverpelt, and there are hunting grounds that not even StarClan knows of.”

They know about this place. Deciding it was time to rescue his brother, he emerged from the gorse tunnel.

“Welcome,” Tigerstar meowed. “I hoped you would come. I’ve looked forward to meeting you.”

Oh, so that’s how he’s going to play this. Hawkfrost padded across the clearing and sat down beside his brother, who was staring at him silently, stunned. The moonlight cast a pair of identical shadows on the hard-baked ground in front of them. How did it take him so long to figure out that we were related? We both look just like our father. It’s unfair that Tawnypelt and Mothwing get to look like their own cats.

“Are you Tigerstar?” Hawkfrost asked, sending a look of fury at him, though desperately trying to keep the anger out of his eyes.

Tigerstar nodded. “I am. So, how are your new territories? I would come to visit them if I could.”

He can’t visit our territories? He’s stuck here now! “It’s hard being somewhere so different,” Hawkfrost admitted reluctantly.

“We all miss the forest,” Brambleclaw added.

“Soon the land will seem like home to you,” Tigerstar promised. “Establish your boundaries and guard them with tooth and claw, because territory is what binds a Clan together.”

No, loyalty is what binds a Clan together, you mangepelt! “Yes!” Hawkfrost forced his eyes to gleam with false delight. “RiverClan has set its scent markers already. Yesterday Blackclaw and I drove out a badger that was living in our territory.” Which hadn’t been easy because Blackclaw had decided he hated him as soon as he learned his heritage.

“Good, good.” Tigerstar’s ears pricked, and he raised his head as if he heard a voice calling him. Finally, the sun’s coming up! Sure enough, the sky above the trees was growing pale with the first light of dawn. “I must go now,” the dark tabby meowed. “Goodbye, Brambleclaw, Hawkfrost. We will meet again as we walk the path of dreams; of that I’m sure. At least you’re stuck here now. The lake is better off without you wandering around causing problems…or worse.

He rose to his paws. At that moment, a cloud drifted over the face of the moon, plunging the clearing into darkness for a single heartbeat. When it cleared, Tigerstar was gone.

“I must go too.” Hawkfrost touched noses with his brother. “We can talk more at the Gathering tonight. I have a lot to tell you.”

The dream faded away and he woke to feel Ivytail’s tongue rasping gently across his pelt. She gazed at him sympathetically. “So he’s back?”

Hawkfrost had told Ivytail about his forced nightly meetings and daily hauntings from his father. In fact, the day he’d told her was the day after Twolegs destroyed the Great Rock, the day the two had mutually asked to be the other’s mate. To his surprise, she hadn’t been angry with him. Instead, she’d been genuinely sympathetic, agreeing to help him keep the secret and promising to watch over Mothwing if anything happened to him.

“He brought Brambleclaw this time too. We were in a spectral version of the old ThunderClan camp,” he muttered, grateful the den was empty besides the two of them.

“Tigerstar summoned your brother to the Dark Forest?”

Hawkfrost groaned. “Not quite. He used Brambleclaw’s dream to pull the Dark Forest to both of us.”

“What did Brambleclaw thinking?” Ivytail asked quietly.

“Brambleclaw didn’t know what to think,” Hawkfrost admitted. “He spent the whole time staring at us.” Frustration bubbled up inside him. “Tigerstar was supposed to leave him alone! Brambleclaw has worked too hard to prove himself to his Clan to get caught up in this now.”

Ivytail stroked his flank with her tail. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re upset?”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. “You’ve always felt like you had to work extra hard to prove yourself because Sasha was a rogue. Then you became a warrior, a brave, noble one, and you lost Feathertail and Stormfur, and Sasha revealed who your father was in front of everyone. I know Blackclaw has been treating you badly.”

“He’s been trying to stir up the other warriors too. Why do you think I’ve been spending so much time by myself, or with you?” Hawkfrost pointed out. “I just need to figure out how to deal with Tigerstar and then I can straighten all of this out.”

“You should talk to Leopardstar or Mistyfoot,” Ivytail suggested. “I’m sure they’d help.”

Hawkfrost shook his head. “No. I can’t do that. RiverClan has too much to worry about with exploring our new territory. I’d just be a burden.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to wait and see if things get better, but if you think you can handle it, I’ll trust you,” Ivytail decided.

He smiled faintly. “Want to hear what I learned?”

She nodded. “Especially if it’s helpful.”

“I learned that Tigerstar can’t cross over to the living world anymore.”

“What? Really?”

“It’s true. He said he would have visited us in our new territories if he could. I’m guessing that means he’s not as powerful as he was back in the forest,” Hawkfrost mused.

Ivytail purred. “Any of our ancestors could have only just come to these skies,” she reminded him. “It must take time for cats in the Dark Forest to build up enough strength to walk this world.”

She flinched suddenly, looking down at her stomach. “What is it? Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Calm down,” she mewed. “It’s just the kits. They’re starting to move around.”

He looked at her nervously. “You should go see Mothwing and make sure they’re healthy.”

“I’m pretty sure moving around is a good sign of their health.”

“Please go see Mothwing,” he pleaded.

She looked at him. “You know if I do she’ll tell me it’s time for me to move into the nursery.”

“I’ll move into the nursery with you!”

“You can’t do that. If it were just me, I would love to have you in the nursery with me,” she promised. “But Mosspelt and Dawnflower are there with four energetic kits. I’m afraid there wouldn’t be much space for a big, strong warrior.”

He sighed, but said, “All right, fine. But you should still see Mothwing.”

*  *  *  *  *

“They’re perfectly healthy,” Mothwing meowed.

Hawkfrost breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re sure?” he checked.

“I’m sure. And they’ll be even better if their mother will stop being stubborn and move into the nursery. Those kits will be due within a moon,” she told him.

Ivytail licked his muzzle. “See, I’m fine. There was no need for you to worry. But I will follow our medicine cat’s orders and go make myself a nest in the nursery.”

“I’ll help you!” Hawkfrost offered.

She gave him a stern look. “I can do this on my own. Besides, you wanted a chance to talk to your sister and now you have it.” After quickly brushing against him, she padded out into the clearing, heading for where the nursery was being constructed. Mosspelt and Dawnflower saw her heading toward them, and Hawkfrost could see them purring from where he sat.

Mothwing watched him steadily, her gaze unreadable. “I’m not sure if I should talk to you,” she said eventually. “The last time we had a serious conversation, you told me that you were the one who placed the moth’s wing outside Mudfur’s den and helped me become a medicine cat, and you destroyed my faith in our ancestors. But then you stood up for me when I guessed what Feathertail’s message to Leafpaw meant.”

Wait, what? “Mothwing, do you believe in StarClan now?” he asked in surprise.

“Does it matter if I do?” she pointed out. “They didn’t send the sign of the moth’s wing, you did. If you tell anyone the truth, they’ll force me to stop being a medicine cat.”

Her words sent a searing pain through Hawkfrost’s heart. It’s now or never. “I lied about that,” he whispered. “I was never the one to place the sign. But I was there when StarClan left it.”

“What are you talking about?” Mothwing was standing with her nose less than a whisker-length away from his.

He closed his eyes. “There’s a lot I need to tell you.”

It took a while, but he eventually told her the whole story.

When he had finished, Mothwing’s eyes were as wide as the full moon that was starting to rise.

“Okay, let me see if I understand this properly. Tigerstar has been training you in your dreams and haunting you in the living world since we were announced as warriors at the Gathering.”

“Yes.”

“He brought you to watch StarClan deliver my sign and then threatened to kill me if you didn’t take credit for it, those destroying my faith in StarClan and leaving me in your debt.”

“Yes.”

“He made you act like you were trying to be the next Tigerstar so that Leafpaw would be suspicious of you.”

“Yes.”

“He only lost contact with you after the Twolegs destroyed the Great Rock at Fourtrees.”

“Yes.”

“And now, most recently, Tigerstar has pulled both you and our brother into dreams, and he’s most likely going to be training both of you to become him.”

“At least he can’t get to the living world now,” Hawkfrost meowed, trying to be optimistic.

Mothwing narrowed her eyes. “That’s a lot to take in,” she muttered.

He crouched down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. At first, I was afraid he would kill me, but when I finally mustered some courage, he’d moved on to threatening you. I am so sorry for everything I put you through. You are such a good cat, and I was horrible to you. I know you can never forgive me, but please don’t hate me. I can’t lose another littermate–”

“Like we lost Tadpole,” Mothwing finished.

Hawkfrost nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.

She crouched beside him and pressed her pelt against his. Brushing her muzzle against his cheek, she mewed, “You will never lose me. What you said, and did, was because our father put you in an impossible position. I know that you were just trying to protect me from him.” Pausing, she took a deep breath. “I forgive you. I don’t blame you for past actions. All that matters now is what you do next.”

He sighed. “What I’m going to do next…is whatever it takes to stop Tigerstar. Which means talking to Brambleclaw at the Gathering tonight. Every cat knows he would never side with our father, but he also doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“Maybe you should talk to Leafpaw too,” Mothwing said. “You owe her an apology too.”

“I don’t think she’ll be quite as understanding as you,” Hawkfrost groaned. “After all, I did pin down her best friend while talking about how we were going to take over her territory. How exactly do I explain that in a way that restores any faith she might have in me as a loyal warrior?”

“I’m not sure,” Mothwing admitted. “But at least I can promise you won’t be doing it alone. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

He purred. “Thank you. I really appreciate that. And I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it.”

Chapter Text

Brambleclaw was glad that he hadn’t been sent on a hunting patrol. After his dream, he felt shaken and confused. But being sent to collect moss with Squirrelflight, Spiderpaw, and Whitepaw was a nice mindless task that gave him time to think about what had happened the night before.

After he had woken from his dream, to the realization that his old home was gone and he was still in the hollow, he had thankfully slept dreamlessly for a while, and awoken feeling less confused and wretched, though still dazed.

He had glanced around the camp, noticing how different the clearing looked from the first time he had seen it. Many of the brambles had been uprooted to form a barrier blocking the camp entrance. The biggest thicket had been turned into the nursery. The apprentices were using a shallow cave in the rock wall as their den, while the warriors slept under the spreading branches of a thornbush almost as big as the one in the old camp. Goldenflower still hadn’t found a den yet, so she, Longtail, and Mousefur, who had decided he wanted to stay with her despite being warriors, were trying a different spot every night; nothing seemed to work, and they would wake up complaining that it was too damp or too drafty. Brambleclaw suspected that they were enjoying the search for the perfect place, because it meant that they got to inspect every corner of the hollow, and had even started advising the other cats on the best places to bask in the sun or eat fresh-kill out of the rain.

But gradually, the stone hollow was becoming more like home, though Brambleclaw hadn’t been able to shake off the memory of his dream, when he had gone back to the camp in the ravine. It wasn’t just a longing to be back in the forest that tugged at his paws and made him restless; he kept thinking about his father and brother too. What had Tigerstar meant about hunting in different skies? Was he watching ThunderClan and plotting from wherever he hunted now?

Brambleclaw shook his head violently, as if the dream were a cobweb clinging to his pelt. Their old home had gone, and there was nothing to be gained by fretting over memories. He struggled to focus on the task of collecting moss.

Squirrelflight nudged him gently. “Hey, there,” she meowed. “Are you okay? You’ve been in a dream all morning.”

Brambleclaw winced; the memory of his meeting with Tigerstar and Hawkfrost filled his mind so strongly that when he shut his eyes, he could almost feel the brush of his brother’s fur against his flank. He longed to confide in Squirrelflight, but he couldn’t, at least not around other cats.

He scuffed his paws on the earth. “I didn’t sleep well last night; there was a confusing dream, and I want to tell you.” He paused and met her green gaze. “I promise I’ll tell you, but I need some time to process…And it’s something I need to talk to you about when we’re alone.”

Her eyes softened. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll give you some time to think about it. Thank you for trusting me.”

“You’ve been trusting me,” he pointed out. “It’s only fair I return it to you.”

She used her claws to tear moss from the roots of an oak tree and began patting it into a ball to take back to camp.

She cast a mischievous glance at Brambleclaw, and he frowned. “What are you doing?”

“We’ve been at this for a while, and you need a break,” Squirrelflight told him.

“If you’re planning to throw moss at me, please tell me you’re not going to use all of it.”

“Of course not,” she assured him.

Spiderpaw snorted. “We’ve already collected enough moss for Goldenflower and Longtail, so Whitepaw and I can go and bring it back to the hollow and then come back and finish helping you.”

Brambleclaw dipped his head. “Thanks,” he meowed. “Just be careful; we still don’t know everything that’s in these woods.”

“We will,” Whitepaw promised him. The two apprentices gathered several bundles of the moss before leaving for the camp.

They had no sooner disappeared through the trees when something landed accurately in the middle of his back and disintegrated, covering his pelt with scraps of moss.

He spun around to face Squirrelflight. “Honestly, you couldn’t at least wait until I was ready?”

She gave him an innocent look. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Laughter bubbling inside him, Brambleclaw scooped up his own moss and flung it at Squirrelflight. She dodged behind the tree to avoid it.

When she didn’t come back, he started to get suspicious. “Squirrelflight?” he called. There was no response.

He picked his way around the tree’s roots, sniffing the air in an attempt to find her, and heard a scrabbling sound. To his surprise, it was coming from… above him?

Looking up, he was just in time to see Squirrelflight launching herself from a low branch. She collided with him and pinned him on his back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“Got you, stupid furball,” she purred, stepping back to let him stand up again.

“Oh, that is not fair,” he argued. “I thought we were throwing moss at each other, not practicing drop attacks.”

She gave him an amused look. “By now, you should know that a warrior is prepared for anything.”

“I guess you’re–”

A furious cry came from behind them. “That sounded like Rainwhisker!” Squirrelflight gasped.

“Come on,” Brambleclaw ordered. He spun around and raced into the trees. Behind him, he heard Squirrelflight on his paws, but if his friend was in trouble, he couldn’t slow down.

He was so worried, he hardly noticed where his flying paws were taking him. Just in time, he saw a bramble thicket looming up in front of him. He just barely managed to dodge it. “Watch out!” he warned.

Squirrelflight heard him, wasn’t so lucky. She tried to skid to a halt and stumbled headlong into the prickly tendrils.

“Mouse dung!” she spat.

Thorns were tugging at the fur on her back as she struggled to wrench herself free. Brambleclaw turned and began unhooking thorny tendrils from her pelt. Digging her claws into the ground, she managed to drag herself out of the thicket, leaving scraps of ginger fur on the bramble thorns.

“Are you all right?” Brambleclaw asked, licking some blood that was welling on her pelt, where thorns must have pierced more deeply.

“I’m okay,” she assured him, taking a deep breath. She licked at wound herself.

Another cry came from just a few tail-lengths away. Brambleclaw looked around and saw that the trees were unfamiliar–huge gray trunks hung with moss and ivy, packed closer together.

“Get out of here, you mangy beast!” Ashfur’s shout sounded close ahead of them

Brambleclaw crept forward, his pelt standing on end. Just beyond the bramble thicket was a clearing where the ground was thick with dead leaves. Brambleclaw’s blood went cold when he saw Ashfur and Rainwhisker locked in a fight with a massive fox.

Ashfur slashed at the creature’s muzzle with both forepaws, but the fox stood its ground in the center of the clearing. It wrenched its head toward Rainwhisker, who had bitten into the base of its tail.

Squirrelflight hurled herself at the fox with a yowl and raked her claws down the side of its face. Brambleclaw slipped into position next to Ashfur, lashing at the fox’s shoulder. The fox let out a screech and thrust both paws into Rainwhisker’s stomach, throwing him off. He landed with a thud and lay stunned, the breath clearly knocked out of him.

The fox had thrown Squirrelflight away too, but she scrambled to her paws. She sprang, claws stretched toward the russet fur. While Ashfur battered the fox with his hind paws, Brambleclaw clawed its stomach. Furious, it snapped at Squirrelflight, who smacked its muzzle with her forepaw.

Desperate, the fox lashed out at Ashfur. The gray warrior ducked, and the fox’s claws hit Brambleclaw in the neck.

For a moment, Brambleclaw wasn’t sure what had happened. Shock and adrenaline were racing through his veins, and he felt nothing. Then pain scorched in his neck like fire. He fell to the ground, a black wave rising behind his eyes, threatening to drown him.

Squirrelflight’s furious screech brought him back to full awareness. He staggered to his paws, the forest swirling around him. When his vision cleared, he could see Squirrelflight slashing her claws at the fox, her ginger fur fluffed out with rage. The sun shone through the trees, lighting her pelt so that she shone as brightly as a leaping flame.

Ashfur fought beside her, but his movements were sluggish and unsure. Brambleclaw wondered if he’d been injured. He started to drag himself toward the fight, desperate to help, but Rainwhisker blocked him with his tail.

“Stop! You can’t go back!” Rainwhisker meowed, sounding worried.

“I’m fine!” Brambleclaw protested. He wasn’t about to let a little pain stop him from protecting his Clan from the monstrous fox.

Rainwhisker continued to bar his way. “No, you’re not!” he growled. “You’re bleeding!”

Surprised, Brambleclaw suddenly became aware of the wet, sticky sensation where the fox’s claws had slashed. Exhaustion flooded him and he stumbled.

Squirrelflight must have noticed, because she yowled, “Rainwhisker, put pressure on that wound! Ashfur, go get some cobwebs or moss to stop the bleeding.” She bit down on the fox’s ear and it screeched. Her claws dug into its eyes.

“You can’t fight this fox alone!” Ashfur snapped.

A heartbeat later, two shapes appeared and leaped at the fox. Spiderpaw and Whitepaw! The apprentices threw themselves into battle. Whitepaw launched herself onto the fox’s back. She clung onto its shoulders, her forepaws digging tightly to its flesh. With her hind paws, she raked its back mercilessly, drawing cries of pain.

Spiderpaw slipped underneath the fox, temporarily out of reach of its snapping teeth, and slashed at its belly. With a roar, he fastened his teeth in one of its hind legs. The fox shook its leg, trying to throw him off. It worked for a heartbeat. Then Spiderpaw jumped forward and slashed at its right flank.

Rainwhisker crouched above Brambleclaw, both forepaws pressed against the wound in his neck. Completely spent, Brambleclaw was barely aware of what was going on, able only to hear angry snarls and noises of pain from the fox.

Ashfur returned, having left at some point, carrying a bundle of moss. He ran over to Brambleclaw’s side and shoved the moss against the bleeding gash. “There,” he growled. “That should soak up the blood.”

While he held the moss in place, Rainwhisker began to lap his tongue over where the blood had begun to dry against Brambleclaw’s fur. “You’re going to be okay,” he mewed. “Once that fox is gone, we’ll get you back to Leafpaw and Cinderpelt.”

The fox let out another terrible screech. Brambleclaw looked over to see that Whitepaw was still on its back, her claws raking through its pelt. Meanwhile, Spiderpaw had joined Squirrelflight in front of the fox. 

They gave each other a quick nod, then leaped forward and slashed at its neck. Both blows struck deeply, and the fox gave a low, gurgling moan.

“Whitepaw, get clear!” Spiderpaw yowled.

She unhooked her claws and jumped off just as the fox collapsed, crimson blood pouring from its throat. Its flanks heaved for a few heartbeats and then stilled. Releasing one last breath, the fox relaxed, dead.

Squirrelflight gave a furious, but satisfied nod. She came over to stand beside Brambleclaw. “Are you all right?” she breathed, sniffing at him.

“Fine,” he rasped. “That was incredible!”

“That was more than incredible!” Rainwhisker gasped. “You three just killed a fox! I didn’t know cats could kill foxes.”

“Feathertail did,” Squirrelflight replied, shouldering Ashfur aside and holding the moss to Brambleclaw’s neck instead. “She told all about it.”

Whitepaw came over with some cobweb. “Here,” she meowed. “This should hold the moss in place long enough for us to get you back to the medicine cats.”

Ashfur nodded. “We need to get back to camp so we can tell Firestar about this.”

*  *  *  *  *

Brambleclaw lay near the entrance to Cinderpelt’s makeshift den, gritting his teeth while she finished cleaning the wound in his neck. She applied chew-up marigold into the slash before carefully pressing fresh cobwebs over his neck. He flinched, and Squirrelflight gave him a sympathetic glance.

“You’re going to be fine,” Cinderpelt told him. “Take it easy for the next couple of days, though. Make sure you let one of us check the wounds every day, to make sure they’re not infected. And you definitely can’t go to the Gathering tonight.” Examining the wound carefully, she added, “Be glad it wasn’t deeper. One more whisker-length and you would be in StarClan now.”

Thankfully, he was the only one badly injured. Squirrelflight had a bite on her shoulder, Whitepaw had torn a claw when she’d jumped off the fox, Spiderpaw a scratch on his muzzle, and Rainwhisker and Ashfur had been a bit bruised, but that was all.

“You actually killed a fox?” Leafpaw asked her sister, as she finished dabbing marigold on the bite.

She looked shocked, and Brambleclaw guessed she’d never expected something like that to happen.

“That’s right,” Squirrelflight mewed, wincing as marigold juice seeped into the puncture wounds.”

“How exactly did you manage that?” Cinderpelt questioned, from where she was standing above Brambleclaw.

Squirrelflight winced. “Well, after we found Ashfur and Rainwhisker fighting the fox, we went to help them. It tried to claw Ashfur but he ducked, so Brambleclaw got hurt instead. After that I just got really scared and angry and started hitting the fox with everything I had.”

Just then, Firestar appeared, followed closely by Rainwhisker, Whitepaw, and Spiderpaw.

“Rainwhisker said you’d be here,” the Clan leader meowed to Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw. “I came to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Squirrelflight growled. “That mangy fox could barely touch me. It’s Brambleclaw you should be worried about. He got injured because Ashfur decided to avoid one of the fox’s attacks without warning, rather than intercept it.”

Firestar’s narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure. Ashfur ducked under its paw when it tried to slash at him.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Firestar reminded her. “You don’t know that he did it on purpose. He might not have had enough time to warn Brambleclaw.”

“He did get moss to help the wound,” Rainwhisker added. “I’m sure it was an honest mistake.”

A cat called from the clearing, and Firestar left for a moment. When he returned, there was a smile on his face. “I’ve just spoken with Mousefur and Brackenfur,” he said to the apprentices. “After the way you helped kill that fox, we all think you’re both ready to become warriors, so we’ll hold the ceremony at sunhigh. You will be announced as warriors at the Gathering tonight.”

Brambleclaw’s tail curled up with satisfaction. Making new warriors was one of the most important things a Clan could do, and the young cats’ ceremony would be one more thing to make the stone hollow feel like home.

Spiderpaw exchanged a glance with Whitepaw. “Actually, Firestar, if it’s alright with you, we’d rather wait for now.”

“Why is that?” Firestar asked calmly, a glint of surprise in his green eyes.

“Birchkit is the only young cat in the Clan right now,” Whitepaw explained. “And with there still being a couple moons till he’s made an apprentice and no new kits in sight, he’ll be by himself.”

Firestar dipped his head. “That is very admirable of you both. I will allow you to remain apprentices, though I think the Clan should still know about how you’ve proved yourself.”

*  *  *  *  *

By sunhigh, the whole Clan had eaten well, and there was a good pile of fresh-kill left over. Cinderpelt’s herbs had done their job, and the pain in Brambleclaw’s neck faded. He was still under the overhang, since Cinderpelt had decided that she wanted to keep an eye on him for a few days, with Squirrelflight sitting next to him, their pelts touching. The rest of the Clan was in the center of the hollow, where bushes had been cleared to make an open space for the cats to gather. It was time for Firestar’s announcement.

There was no Highrock like the one in the old camp. Instead, Firestar had found a ledge a few tail-lengths above the heads of the other cats, which he reached by leaping up a tumble of broken rock that made rough stepping-stones up the cliff. Just below the ledge–already cats were beginning to call it the Highledge–there was a narrow cleft that opened into a cave where Firestar had decided to make his den. Of all the dens in the new camp, this was most like the one in the ravine, enclosed by lichen-covered walls and with a dry, sandy floor.

Firestar raised his voice in a yowl, his pelt a splash of orange flame against the blue-gray rock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the ledge for a Clan meeting.”

Brambleclaw’s pelt tingled to hear the familiar words ring around the hollow. He watched as the leggy black figure of Spiderpaw and the fluffy white shape of Whitepaw crossed the clearing to stand beside their mentors, Mousefur and Brackenfur. Both warriors’ eyes shone with pride as their apprentices joined them.

“We have a ceremony we will soon have to perform,” Firestar meowed as soon as all the cats were settled. “Mousefur, Brackenfur, are you satisfied that your apprentices are ready to become warriors?”

The brown warrior dipped her head. “I am.”

Brackenfur purred. “I am as well.”

Firestar ran lightly down the broken rocks until he reached the floor of the hollow, and beckoned Whiterpaw and Spiderfur closer to him with his tail. They stepped forward, quivering from nose to tail.

“Are you sure that want to do this?” Firestar asked them.

“I’m sure,” Spiderpaw replied.

“We’ve made our decision,” Whitepaw added.

Firestar nodded, then lifted his head to address the rest of the Clan. “Cats of ThunderClan, these two apprentices fought hard to help kill a fox that was in ThunderClan territory. Because of how they fought, they have demonstrated that they are ready to become warriors.” His voice rang out clearly above the sound of the wind and the gentle creak of branches on the rim of the hollow. “However, they have decided that they wish to postpone their ceremonies so that Birchkit will not be alone in his training. Despite this, I think they still deserve to be recognized.”

The Clan agreed. “Spiderpaw!” “Whitepaw!” “Spiderpaw!” “Whitepaw!” Their cheers rang throughout the hollow. Brambleclaw cheered as hard as he could, even though it caused a twinge in his wound.

Dustpelt looked ready to burst with pride, and Ferncloud’s eyes were shining with joy to see their eldest son making such a selfless decision. Meanwhile, Cloudtail was kneading the ground excitedly, and Brightheart was practically vibrating from her delight.

After the noise died down, Birchkit crept over to his brother and Whitepaw. “You’re delaying your ceremony for me?” he asked timidly.

Spiderpaw lowered his head touched noses with the kit. “Yeah, I am. You deserve to have someone else to train with.”

Birchkit purred. “Does that mean you’re still going to play with me?”

“Of course!” Whitepaw meowed. “We aren’t going to leave you by yourself.”

Brambleclaw purred as he watched them. “Spiderpaw seems so much happier,” he observed.

“It’s no wonder,” Squirrelflight said. “He finally let go of his grief and is taking the chance to do what he needs to be the best cat he can be.”

Leafpaw padded over to join them. She sniffed Brambleclaw’s wound and nodded in satisfaction. “No sign of infection,” she told him. “With any luck, you’ll be able to return to your duties in a few days.”

“Thanks, Leafpaw.” He was relieved. He’s finally doing what he needs to be the best cat he can be. “There’s something I need to tell both of you,” he said quietly.

Squirrelflight glanced at him. “Does this have something to do with why you were stuck in your head so much this morning?”

He nodded. “Last night I dreamed I was back in ThunderClan’s old territory. It was greenleaf, prey was running, and there was no sign of Twolegs. For a moment, it seemed like everything was perfect again. But then I went to the ThunderClan camp, and Tigerstar was waiting for me.”

“Your father?” Leafpaw gasped. “How?”

“I’m not sure. He said walked other skies than StarClan. You haven’t seen him at your meetings, have you?” Brambleclaw asked nervously.

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t. And honestly, I’m glad of that.”

“What did Tigerstar want with you?” Squirrelflight pressed.

“He said that he had been watching me, that he wished he could visit me here. But he said he was proud, and he wants us to be ready to defend our territories.”

“Us?” Leafpaw and Squirrelflight echoed.

Brambleclaw winced. “Hawkfrost was in my dream too. I don’t know why; maybe Tigerstar wants to train us or something. I don’t trust him. But that’s why I was off earlier.”

“How dare he come after you now?” Squirrelflight spat. “You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him back when he was still alive.”

“I still want nothing to do with him,” Brambleclaw growled. “And I’m pretty sure that Hawkfrost doesn’t want anything to do with him either. He was absolutely furious when he was talking to Tigerstar.”

Leafpaw groaned. “It makes sense that wherever it is Tigerstar hunts now is gaining strength. StarClan has already spoken.”

“You’re right!” Squirrelflight realized. “And whatever they’re going to do will likely happen to night at the Gathering. Do you have any ideas?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I’m pretty sure it will be very impressive.”

Brambleclaw looked at Squirrelflight. “There’s something I need you to do for me,” he began. “With my injuries, I won’t be able to attend the Gathering tonight, or talk to Hawkfrost. But I need him to know I’m fine. And I think he knows more than he could say in our dream.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Squirrelflight promised. “Everything is going to work out.”

Chapter Text

The sun had gone down but the horizon still blazed with scarlet when the ThunderClan cats got ready to set out. Squirrelflight stood up from where she’d fallen asleep next to Brambleclaw, stretching each leg in turn.

“I have to go,” she whispered to Brightheart, who’d offered to stay behind and watch over him.

“Enjoy the Gathering!” Brightheart purred quietly. She gave Squirrelflight a parting lick.

Joining the cats setting out, she waited for Brackenfur to go through the tunnel, wondering how the new deputy was feeling about being announced to every Clan. Pushing her way through the tunnel, she padded with Leafpaw.

Sorreltail was the last of the warriors to emerge from the tunnel. Brackenfur had been waiting to check that they had all the cats who were meant to be coming to the Gathering. As she went past, he stretched out his muzzle to touch her eartip. “Hey, Sorreltail,” he murmured. “I’m glad you’re coming.”

The young tortoiseshell warrior blinked at him and let out a purr.

“How long have those two been padding after each other?” Squirrelflight whispered to her sister.

Leafpaw purred. “It can’t have been very long. She was sneaking off with me on adventures the whole time you were gone.”

“Well, then, maybe ThunderClan will have some kits soon,” Squirrelflight guessed.

Firestar led his Clan uphill to the place where they could cross the stream by the stepping-stones, then followed the stream down to the lakeshore. “If we go on taking the route that brings us by horseplace,” he meowed, “we must make sure WindClan understands we’ll have to cross their territory every full moon.”

“That’s assuming Mudclaw is reasonable enough to understand,” Cloudtail muttered to Dustpelt.

The brown tabby warrior grunted. “He’s been fine so far.”

“Mudclaw would defend his camp more fiercely than any other warrior, but he respects the full moon truce,” Sorreltail pointed out.

The cats padded along the edge of the lake; the water grew darker as the scarlet faded from the horizon and the first stars appeared. Ashfur was talking to Rainwhisker and Cinderpelt.

Squirrelflight growled. “I can’t believe Firestar let him come.”

“Do you really think he tried to let that fox kill Brambleclaw?” Leafpaw asked.

“All I know is that he hasn’t bothered to apologize, whatever his intentions were,” Squirrelflight muttered. “He’d better stay away from both of us until he does.”

By the time they were nearing the Twoleg horseplace, the full moon had floated away from the trailing wisps of cloud and was flooding the lake and its shore with pale silver light. There was only one cloud near it, a massive dark cluster hovering directly above the island. Just before they reached the fence, Mudclaw appeared on the brow of the hill above them, flanked by Ashfoot and several more of his Clanmates. Squirrelflight was surprised to see Onewhisker was with them.

Firestar stopped and waited for the WindClan cats to catch up, greeting Mudclaw with a friendly purr. Though the ThunderClan leader allowed Mudclaw to take the lead, the warriors behind them mingled together happily. Onewhisker went straight for Ashfur, Owlpaw and Weaselpaw walked side by side with Rainwhisker and Sootfur, and Squirrelflight spotted Crowfeather and Nightcloud. She beckoned with her tail and the two dark-furred cats came to join them.

“Hey, Squirrelflight,” Crowfeather purred, touching noses with her. He touched noses with Leafpaw as well, and Nightcloud followed suit. “Where’s Brambleclaw?”

Squirrelflight growled again. “Ask Ashfur!”

“Why, did Ashfur kill him?” Nightcloud asked.

“There was a fox on our territory,” Leafpaw explained. “Squirrelflight thinks Ashfur was trying to get Brambleclaw killed because he dodged an attack and it hurt Brambleclaw instead.”

“Oh, no, is he alright?” Nightcloud questioned in concern.

Squirrelflight sighed. “He’s fine. The wound wasn’t deep and Cinderpelt was able to treat it.” She turned to lick the bite marks on her shoulder.

“It looks like Brambleclaw wasn’t the only one injured,” Crowfeather meowed. He looked at her closely. “But you’re very worried.”

Nightcloud frowned. “What happened to the fox? You didn’t chase it into another territory, did you?”

“She didn’t chase it anywhere,” Leafpaw bragged. “Squirrelflight, Whitepaw, and Spiderpaw killed it.”

Both WindClan warriors were clearly stunned. Crowfeather opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off when Firestar raised his tail for them to halt. Squirrelflight padded quietly forward to find out what was going on. Pausing to taste the air, her neck fur began to rise when she made out the scents of strange cats…and one familiar cats.

“More kittypets?” she muttered to Crowfeather.

He bristled, his ears pricked. She followed his gaze and spotted a tiny movement in the grass on the other side of the Twoleg fence. A moment later, two cats emerged.

Firestar nodded to her. “You and Spiderpaw go check it out.”

“Crowfeather, you go with them,” Mudclaw ordered.

Spiderpaw slipped forward from where he had been walking with Whitepaw, Dewpaw, and Antpaw.

The first of the cats was a muscular gray-and-white tom; he glared at them through the fence with his lips drawn back in a snarl.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he demanded.

Crowfeather bristled at the hostility, but Squirrelflight gave him a warning hiss. “We don’t mean you any harm,” she told the tom. “My name is Squirrelflight and my friends are Spiderleg and Crowfeather. Our Clans sent us to check for Twolegs before we continue on to the Gathering.”

“Twolegs?” the long-furred queen looked bewildered.

“The pink creatures who walk on their hind legs,” Crowfeather explained, reminding Squirrelflight how they’d learned on their journey to meet Midnight that not all cats used the same words. “They live in red stone nests like the one over there,” he added, gesturing with his tail to the Twoleg nest on the other side of the horseplace.

“Oh, you mean Nofurs,” mewed the queen. “We don’t live with them either. We live in the stable with the horses.”

Spiderpaw tilted his head to one side. Squirrelflight could guess what he was thinking. It sounded as if these two cats were loners, like Barley and Ravenpaw, who lived in a barn near the old territory, though she couldn’t imagine any cats wanting to live this close to a Twoleg nest unless they were kittypets, let alone make their home where they could be crushed under the horses’ huge feet.

The gray-and-white tom twitched the tip of his tail. “You’ve this way for the Gathering? Then that means you’re the ones my daughter has told you about. Follow me.”

“Your daughter?” Squirrelflight echoed. His words, combined with the familiar scent she’d noticed earlier caused a sudden suspicion to enter her mind.

The queen nodded. “We’re not the only cats living here,” she explained. “My name is Daisy and this is Smoky. We need to ask you something.”

Smoky led them up to the wall of the barn. “In here,” he meowed.

The barn was built of piled-up stone, with a door made of strips of wood. There was a narrow gap at the bottom; Smoky slipped inside, followed by Daisy, Crowfeather, and Spiderpaw. Squirrelflight hesitated, not eager to get stuck again, but she managed to squeeze through. She stood up, panting, trying to catch her breath, and let her fur lie flat again.

Inside, the barn was almost completely dark. It was smaller than Ravenpaw’s home, but Squirrelflight could just make out familiar stacks of hay and straw. Their scent filled the air, along with the smell of mice and cats.

“I would say I never expected to see you here, but clearly the time has come,” a familiar voice announced.

A brown-and-white shape walked forward, stepping away from three smaller figures who watched her with wide, shining eyes, and a taller figure who could barely be seen through the shadows.

“Spikekit?” Crowfeather spluttered. “This is where you’re from?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry I never told you. But it was pretty important that I keep it a secret.”

“It’s all right,” Squirrelflight promised. “We met another Protector during our first patrol around the lake. She told us what we needed to know.”

Smoky narrowed his eyes. “There’s another Protector here?”

Crowfeather nodded. “She’s young, and she came from far away.”

“Interesting,” Daisy meowed. “I had no idea there were more. As far as I knew, Smoky was the only one. But it makes sense. Spikekit’s mother was killed a few moons ago when she tried to stop the Nofurs from seeing the rest of Spikekit’s litter.”

Sadness filled Smoky’s eyes. “I tried to stop her from doing it. There was no good that could come from it. Thankfully, Spikekit was protected because she was with your Clans.”

“I wanted Spikekit to have siblings, so Smoky agreed to help me,” Daisy continued. “But now my kits are almost weaned, and the Nofurs will try to take them from us. We can’t stay here.”

Spiderleg had been watching the conversation silently, complete confusion on his face. “What exactly are you saying?”

Spikekit stepped forward to face him. “She’s asking if we can join ThunderClan. She and her kits need shelter, and I think my destiny is to protect you all.”

“Please help us,” Daisy added.

“Of course you can stay with us,” Squirrelflight told her. “All of the Clans understand how it feels to lose our homes to Twolegs.”

A loud purr sounded from Spikekit. “Everything’s fine, you three, come on out.”

The kits crept forward slowly. They appeared to be almost two moons old, which fit with the story. One was creamy-furred like Daisy. He was clearly the bravest and most curious of the three. After a few heartbeats, he darted forward and started sniffing at the Clan cats.

“I’m Berry!” he announced. “Are we going to live with you?”

Spiderpaw nodded. “It looks that way.”

The other two kits weren’t as confident. They were gray and white, just like Smoky. The she-kit seemed to be a little braver, because eventually she joined her brother in front of the Clan cats.

“My name’s Hazel,” she announced. Pointing her tail at the third kit, who was huddled nervously against Daisy, she added, “And he’s Mouse.”

Mouse didn’t say anything, instead continuing to press against his mother.

“Well, we can’t bring you with us right now,” Squirrelflight meowed. “We still have to go to the Gathering, and truce or no truce, certain cats will be trying to stir up trouble if they see you.”

“Can I go?” Spikekit asked. “Technically they think I’m a Clan cat.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea either,” Crowfeather replied. “Kits don’t go to Gatherings.”

Spikekit’s gaze turn pleading. “Please? I can help you explain things to Firestar. And I promise I’ll be really good.”

Squirrelflight closed her eyes for a moment. “All right,” she agreed at last. “But stay with me at all times. The last thing we need is for you to end up getting into something you shouldn’t.”

“Thank you so much!” Spikekit purred, thrusting her muzzle against Squirrelflight’s. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Spiderpaw turned to Smoky and Daisy. “Are you okay with this?”

Smoky nodded. “She’s been treading her own path for most of her life already. It’s better if we let her go now.”

“I’ll be back for you all,” Spikekit promised, touching her nose to each of the younger kits in turn.

After a moment, they all turned and squeezed back out of the barn. They returned to the rest of the cats.

“Everything’s fine,” Squirrelflight said to Firestar, “though there’s something we need to talk to you about after the Gathering.”

“Does it have to do with the kit walking with you?” he asked.

“It does. But there’s not enough time right now.” Crowfeather’s meow was brisk.

Mudclaw flicked his tail for the cats to continue. They skirted the fence and followed the line of the shore until they reached the clump of trees where they had made their temporary camp. ShadowClan and RiverClan were already there, and the first cat Squirrelflight spotted was Tawnypelt, sitting next to Rowanclaw. She headed over to see them, while Rainwhisker bounded past her to greet a young warrior from RiverClan.

“Hi, Swallowtail! How’s the prey running?”

She purred and rubbed against him. “It’s great! The lake is full of fish.”

Rainwhisker bent down to lick her ears. “That’s awesome! ThunderClan has more prey than we know what to do with in our territory, and it’s still leafbare.”

The two cats began whispering animatedly, and Squirrelflight could no longer hear them. Tawnypelt and Rowanclaw came up to join her.

“It’s been a while,” Squirrelflight meowed. Spikekit nudged her and she smirked. “You both remember Spikekit?”

Rowanclaw leaned forward to sniff the kit. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s the one who kept showing up and no one knew where she came from.”

“She’s a Protector, right?” Tawnypelt added.

Squirrelflight nodded. “And she decided to join ThunderClan.”

“ThunderClan needs younger cats,” Spikekit pointed out. “I feel a pull towards you anyways.”

Near the stump, the leaders were arguing. Squirrelflight couldn’t make out the words, but they hardly seemed complimentary.

Then Blackstar’s voice rose above the others in a snarl. “This is what we get for listening to a foolish apprentice. She promised that StarClan would provide us a way to get to the island, and yet I see nothing!”

“Have a little faith,” Firestar pleaded. “StarClan will do something.”

Then a  claw of lightning tore the sky from top to bottom. The pulsing blue-white flare lit up the island. In the same heartbeat an earsplitting crack sounded across the water. The lightning crackled down to the topmost branches of one of the trees on the island, outlining it briefly in a spike of flame. The tree began to fall, gathering momentum as it toppled. It crashed down on the shore, its branches clattering like bones.

As if it had come solely for the purpose of destroying the tree, the cloud vanished, leaving the night to be brightened by the moon.

For a moment, there was absolute pandemonium. The leaders, who had been closest to the shoreline, practically leapt out of their fur. Clearly shocked, they edged away from the end of the tree, as if they thought it might still hurt them. The younger apprentices moved closer to their mentors or any of the older warriors from their Clans. The warriors seemed to be trying to stay calm, not wanting to worry the younger cats. Littlecloud and Mothwing ran down to inspect the tree.

Spikekit pressed herself against Squirrelflight, who felt a burst of sympathy for the kit. “Shh, it’s all right, little one. Everyone is safe,” she murmured.

“I-I knew StarClan would keep their promise to Leafpaw, but I didn’t expect that!” Spikekit gasped, trembling.

Squirrelflight rasped her tongue over Spikekit’s head. “I know. Neither did I. But now we have a way to get to the island.”

More cats had begun to appear along the lakeshore, among them Dustpelt and Brackenfur, Mistyfoot, and Tornear and Webfoot. They gathered in a ragged semicircle behind the Clan leaders and around one end of the fallen tree.

“Look at this!” Brackenfur meowed. He jumped onto the tree and padded a little way across the lake water.

“It is like a Twoleg bridge!” Mistyfoot exclaimed.

Brackenfur turned back, springing down onto the pebbles with a rustle of branches. “We can use the fallen tree to reach the island,” he meowed. “It’s wide enough for all of us to cross safely. We can use it for Gatherings after all!”

Squirrelflight remembered how her patrol had first discovered the island. They had always known that it would be the perfect place to gather, but they had assumed that it would be impossible to reach, except for the strong swimmers in RiverClan, without StarClan’s help.

But StarClan had given them a way to cross the narrow stretch of water that separated the island from the shore. Squirrelflight felt her fur bristle with anticipation as they approached the tree-bridge. It had once been a lofty pine tree, growing close to the edge of the island. Now its roots reared up into the air, while its tip rested on the pebbly lakeshore. As sh drew closer, Squirrelflight could see its needles were already brown and dry, falling like brittle rain onto the stones.

Cats were bunched together around the topmost branches; their flattened ears and stiffly held tails betrayed their nervousness about trusting the tree to support their weight across the cold black water. Squirrelflight watched Webfoot sniff warily at a twig. Suddenly there was an impatient meow, and Crowfeather leapt up onto the trunk, close to where it stretched out over the water. He swayed until he found his balance, then started to walk along the trunk, placing each paw carefully until he was near enough to the opposite shore to jump down safely.

Squirrelflight wanted to pushforward and scramble along the trunk so she could explore the island too, but she made herself wait, claws scraping impatiently on the stone. She was conscious of Spikekit purring beside her, glad the kit had recovered from the shock.

“This is great!” Tawnypelt meowed, touching her muzzle to Squirrelflight’s ear. “I can’t wait to get over there.”

“Me neither,” Squirrelflight agreed. “I just wish Brambleclaw could see this.”

“Where is Brambleclaw?” Rowanclaw asked.

Squirrelflight felt another growl rumbling inside her. “A fox got him,” she managed through gritted teeth. “He’ll be fine, but he couldn’t come tonight.”

Tawnypelt gave her a sympathetic lick. “I’m sure he’ll be able to come to the next Gathering. Tell him I miss him.”

She nodded, watching as more WindClan cats began to cross, gripping the trunk with their claws as they advanced pawstep by pawstep toward the far shore. When Firestar waved his tail for the ThunderClan cats to follow, Squirrelflight started forward eagerly, only to stop when Spikekit didn’t move.

“What’s the matter?” Squirrelflight mewed.

Spikekit flinched. “I’m not sure I can do this. Maybe I should just stay behind and wait for everyone to come back.”

“Of course you can do this!” Squirrelflight said reassuringly. “I’ll be right behind you, and if you start to fall, I’ll catch you, I promise.”

As Tornear leapt up onto the tree-bridge, Mudclaw padded across and spoke quickly to Firestar before following his Clanmate. Firestar beckoned his Clan around him.

“RiverClan and ShadowClan have already crossed,” he meowed. “Mudclaw told me Leopardstar and Blackstar agreed we should all have a chance to explore the island before the Gathering.”

“Where will we meet when it starts?” Cloudtail asked.

Firestar twitched his ears. “Only StarClan knows, until we get over there. But you shouldn’t get lost. The island’s big, but it’s not that big.”

He jumped onto the tree trunk, followed by Sandstorm and Cloudtail. At last it was Squirrelflight’s turn. Nudging Spikekit onto the trunk, she crouched and sprang into the air; the trunk bounced under her weight as she landed. Her fur fluffed out in alarm and she sank her claws into the bark to keep her balance. Suddenly she was conscious of how narrow the trunk was, and how close the water was, lapping at the half-submerged branches behind her.

Cautiously, she edged out along the tree trunk, keeping pace with Spikekit. The trunk bounced even harder as more cats sprang up behind her, and the branches scraped her pelt as she wove her way between them. Spikekit was finding it easier to cross between, since she was smaller than the other cats. But gradually Squirrelflight grew used to the motion, and the trunk grew thicker as she crept out across the lake. Her confidence grew; when the branches came to an end, she waited for Spikekit to hop off the trunk, then broke into a run until she hurled herself with a yowl of triumph onto the shore on the other side.

Dustpelt leapt into the air and spun to face her. “Great StarClan, you startled me!” he exclaimed. “Any cat would think you were still a kit, the way you behave.”

“Now that’s just offensive,” Spikekit mewed, licking her forepaw and drawing it over her muzzle smoothly. Dustpelt stared her as if wondering where the kit had come from, which was frankly a common sentiment.

“Sorry, Dustpelt.” Seeing his tail curl up with amusement, Squirrelflight guessed her former mentor was as excited as she was to be in their new Gathering place.

She waited in the shelter of the tree roots while Leafpaw and Sootfur crossed. Leafpaw raced across the shore to join Mothwing, while Sootfur went off to find Owlpaw and Weaselpaw.

Sitting on the pebbles nearby was Hawkfrost. He was staring out at the tree-bridge as if waiting for someone. Squirrelflight guessed he wanted to talk to Brambleclaw.

She turned to Spikekit. “Do you want to go talk to Hawkfrost? It seemed like you were close to him.”

“Yes, please!” The kit’s head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. With no other kits around, she was started to act closer to her age, and not like the old, mysterious Protector she’d been before.

“Come on, then,” she purred in amusement.

Flicking her tail, she padded over to see the broad-shouldered tabby warrior.

He jumped when he noticed her. “Oh, hey, Squirrelflight,” he meowed. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine,” she said calmly. “I brought you a friend.”

Spikekit took that chance to leap against Hawkfrost’s front legs, purring heavily and winding around him in delight. “Hawkfrost! I missed you so much” 

His eyes widened in surprise and he curled his tail around her shoulders. “Spikekit, it’s good to see you too! But…how did you get here?”

She shrugged. “I talked Squirrelflight into bringing me.”

“Apparently, she’s from the horseplace,” Squirrelflight told him. “I won’t go into details, because it’s very complicated, but she’s something called a Protector and she traveled with us on the Great Journey through her dreams…I think. She’s going to join ThunderClan.”

“I knew there was something special about you,” he murmured. He sounded worried. “By the way, where’s my brother?”

Squirrelflight flinched. “He was hurt in a battle with a fox.” Dismay clouded Hawkfrost’s gaze, and she added hurriedly, “He’s fine. Cinderpelt said he needed a few days to rest, so he couldn’t make it to the Gathering.”

“Oh no!” Hawkfrost sat down heavily. “I hope he recovers soon; I really need to talk to him about something.”

“Is it about your shared dream with Tigerstar?” Squirrelflight asked. “Brambleclaw told me about it–he said you were angry at your father for it.”

“I was,” Hawkfrost agreed. “My brother may have been trying to escape Tigerstar’s shadow for seasons, but I’ve been directly haunted by him since I became a warrior. I thought I was finally free…” His mew dropped to a whisper.

Squirrelflight felt something soften inside her. The hint of distrust she’d been nurturing even since talking with Brambleclaw melted away like morning dew. Hawkfrost was not Tigerstar. He was a loyal warrior who wanted what was best for his Clan, and it was time she started believing in him.

“I’ve been wrong to be so suspicious about you. I promise it wasn’t because of who your father was; I guess I was worried you’d take my place in Brambleclaw’s life…I’m usually the cat he confides in. But that was no way to treat anyone, and you’ve more than proved yourself. I’m truly sorry,” she apologized.

“It’s all right,” he assured her. “I’ve been dealing with prejudice my whole life, even before Sasha decided to announce it to every cat. You’re the first cat to apologize to me, though,” he noted.

“Would you like to explore with me?” she offered, her voice soft.

He nodded in disbelief. “Where do you want to go? That way?” he suggested. He gestured with his tail toward a thicket of trees and bushes in the center of the island.

“No, let’s go around the outside first,” Squirrelflight meowed.

“I want to see every pawstep!” Spikekit cheered. She blinked warmly up at Hawkfrost, clearly pleased that she was getting to explore the island with him.

They padded along the shore, passing Sandstorm, who was sharpening her claws on the trunk of another pine.

“This is good,” she mewed happily. “Much safer than where we would have gathered, near the horseplace.” Her claws sharpened to her satisfaction, she sat down and stared out across the gently lapping water.

The three cats skirted an outcrop of rocks leading down to the water and came to a wider stretch of pebbles and sandy earth, broken up here and there by small, gleaming pools. Squirrelflight crouched down beside one, tongue extended to lap, then sprang back with a meow of surprise.

“There are fish in there!”

Hawkfrost padded up beside her and looked interestedly into the water. “I see some.

“I can’t see any!” Spikekit protested from between them.

“Tiny fish–look, there!” Squirrelflight pointed with her paw as a sleek shape flickered from the shelter of one rock to another. “Too small for prey, though,” she added regretfully.

“For a warrior, maybe,” Hawkfrost said mischievously. He flashed out a forepaw and hooked one of the fish onto the shore. Quickly killing it, he looked up at Spikekit. “Want to try it?”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!” She took a large bit, her eyes lighting up. “Delicious!” she exclaimed, finishing it off quickly.

Squirrelflight laughed. “Let’s keep going.”

The island shore grew rockier farther around, where the vast, glittering lake stretched all the way around to their own territory. She could just make out the mass of trees with the dark bulk of the moorland rising above them.

“This would be great for sunning on when it’s warm,” Hawkfrost commented, gazing up at a smooth gray boulder splotched with lichen. “We haven’t found anything like Sunningrocks in our territory.”

“ThunderClan lives in a stone hollow,” Squirrelflight replied, “so it’s all like Sunningrocks, but less smooth.”

“What’s Sunningrocks?” Spikekit put in.

The two warriors exchanged a look. “Sunningrocks was a bunch of large smooth stones that got really warm in the sun,” Hawkfrost explained.

“And our Clans were constantly battling over it,” Squirrelflight added. “It’s the last place ThunderClan used as a camp before we had to leave the forest for good.

As they scrambled over the boulder, claws scraping for balance, she saw Russetfur sniffing around the bottom of the rock, flanked by her Clanmates Oakfur and Marrowflight. She changed direction to avoid them; even with having her friends Tawnypelt and Rowanclaw in ShadowClan, it was best not to get to close to the others. They could still be very prickly

The moon had risen high in the sky by the time the three cats had made a complete circuit of the island. Squirrelflight bounded down to the lake beside the tree-bridge and gulped down a few mouthfuls; the water was icy cold, and as she lapped at the glittering surface, she felt as if she were drinking starlight.

“I almost wanted this to be RiverClan’s camp,” Hawkfrost admitted. “If Mothwing hadn’t suggested it for Gatherings, there’s everything here a cat could want.”

“Except enough prey,” Squirrelflight pointed out. “Your Clan doesn’t eat fish all the time. Do you really think you’d enjoy trying to swim with fresh-kill in your jaws?”

Hawkfrost purred. “I love swimming. It just feels so free in the water. In newleaf and greenleaf, it’s like being in a new world; in leaf-fall and leafbare I can pretend like I’m swimming in starlight.”

“That does sound amazing,” Squirrelflight admitted. “In fact, that’s how I feel when I drink the water at the stream between ThunderClan and WindClan.”

“I want to learn to swim!” Spikekit squealed, drawing out laughter from the two warriors.

Hawkfrost glanced up at the moon. “The Gathering must be due to start.”

Squirrelflight shook starry drops from her whispers. “We still don’t know where we’re meeting.”

“Let’s head for the center,” Hawkfrost suggested. “We should be able to hear the other cats, even if we can’t see them.”

The three of them headed for the central thicket. They hadn’t gone far before they heard the gentle murmur of many cats greeting one another.

Hawkfrost paused to taste the air. “All four Clans are here. This must be the place.”

He led the way through a clump of thorns, swerving to avoid a particularly prickly branch. Squirrelflight could hear the prey rustling in the leaves around her, but she was too excited to think of hunting. She tried to push her way through the brambles more quickly, but thorns caught her pelt.

“I am not going to get stuck again!” she muttered.

Hawkfrost let out a mrrow of laughter. “Does that happen often?”

“Oh, Birchkit was talking about this,” Spikekit purred. “Apparently, Spiderpaw and Whitepaw told him about all the times she got stuck.”

“Thank you, Spikekit,” Squirrelflight grumbled. “I don’t need that being spread around.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll help you,” Hawkfrost promised. He gripped one end of the branch and tilted his head back, giving Squirrelflight some more room to move.

She crouched down until her belly brushed the crisp dead leaves underneath the brambles, then she wriggled forward until the branches thinned and she broke out into the open.

“Thank you,” she meowed.

“Wow!”

They were standing at the edge of a wider circle of grass that shone silver in the moonlight. It looked like a much smaller version of the lake, its surface rippling as the breeze brushed against the stems. A single oak tree grew in the center. Roots thicker than a cat’s body clutched at the ground, while branches shifted overhead and cast trembling shadows on the cats below.

“This is perfect!” Hawkfrost exclaimed, emerging from the bushes beside her. He spat out a mouthful of thorns.

Squirrelflight looked around for her Clanmates. Goldenflower was stretched out in a clump of longer grass with Boulder, Runningnose, and Rushtail, and Cinderpelt had joined Leafpaw and Mothwing near the tree roots. Littlecloud was padding over to sit beside them. Cloudtail and Dustpelt were standing in the shelter of the bushes farther around the circle; after a shared glance, they went over to Mistyfoot and Mosspelt, dipping their heads in greeting.

Squirrelflight suddenly realized that she had been nervous that ShadowClan and RiverClan would be hostile already. But this looked more like a regular Gathering back in the forest, with cats from different Clans comfortably sharing news.

She twitched her ears to welcome Leafpaw, who had left the other medicine cats and padded across the grass to join her.

“I love it here.” Leafpaw’s eyes shone; Squirrelflight guessed she felt especially close to StarClan here, which was important since they still had no place to meet with StarClan properly. “It’s smaller than Fourtrees, but it feels so safe.”

As Squirrelflight started to agree, she saw Firestar race across the clearing and leap into the tree. He clawed at the trunk, then pulled himself onto a low branch and stood looking down at the four Clans.

“Blackstar! Mudclaw! Leopardstar!” he called. “We could sit here for the Gathering.”

Blackstar was the next to appear, agile for a cat of his bulk as he swarmed up the tree to crouch on the branch beside Firestar with his tail hanging down.

“I bet Blackstar wishes he thought of sitting in the tree first,” Hawkfrost murmured into Squirrelflight’s ear.

Leopardstar settled herself in the fork between two branches not far from Firestar and Blackstar; Mudclaw climbed to a branch on Firestar’s other side.

Mistyfoot sat tidily on one of the thick, twisting roots at the foot of the trunk. When the other deputies, Ashfoot and Russetfur, joined her there, a pang of surprise filled Squirrelflight. Brackenfur had not joined them, which made it seem blindingly obvious that there was no ThunderClan deputy to sit with them. What is he playing at?

Firestar let out a yowl. “Cats of all Clans, welcome to this new Gathering place. StarClan has brought us here, and we thank them.” He waited a moment while the warriors grew quiet.

“Now, let the Gathering begin!”

Chapter Text

Leafpaw stood next to Squirrelflight, Hawkfrost, and the mysterious Spikekit. The cats from every Clan had mingled together like they usually would. Elders gossiped about what things had been like when they were warriors; warriors bragged about their exploits; apprentices excitedly described their new territories. And Rainwhisker and Swallowtail sat side by side, seeming far too comfortable with each other, even more than her friend had been with Weaselpaw and Owlpaw.

She was excited too. StarClan had more than proven her words correct by sending lightning to strike the tree and turn it into a bridge to the island. Cinderpelt had told her that the medicine cats would be meeting after the Gathering

Blackstar yowled for silence, then began to address the gathered cats. “As we agreed before, we have set our boundary markers along the small Thunderpath leading to the lake,” he announced. “Leopardstar, I hope that suits you?” His gaze bore into the RiverClan leader as if he were daring her to argue.

Leopardstar dipped her head. “Perfectly, thank you, Blackstar.”

Blackstar looked surprised, and for a moment, Leafpaw couldn’t understand why Leopardstar was being so cooperative. Squirrelflight had told her that the small Thunderpath wasn’t all that far away from RiverClan’s camp. The new boundaries had only been roughly agreed upon at the previous meeting, and she thought Leopardstar might have tried to extend her territory. Then she realized that if the Thunderpath were left as the boundary, the Twoleg halfbridge and the little nest Squirrelflight had described would be in ShadowClan territory. If the Twolegs caused any trouble, it would be ShadowClan’s problem.

“Our boundary with ThunderClan has been scent-marked as well,” the ShadowClan leader went on. “We have claimed the territory as far as the stream that flows into the lake, and farther away from the lake, as far as the dead tree on the other side of the stream.”

“I think it would make more sense to make the stream the boundary all along the boundary,” Firestar meowed calmly.

“It would make more sense to ThunderClan, maybe,” Blackstar retorted. “But the stream curves sharply at the end of the clearing, veering deeper into our territory, and there are pine trees on both banks. Scent marks are scent marks, Firestar. If you don’t like where we have set them, you should have been quicker with your own.”

The ThunderClan leader gave Blackstar a long look. At last he bent his head.

“Very well,” he mewed. “But ThunderClan has set scent markers on a line stretching from the dead tree to a tall holly and then to an abandoned fox den under a white rock. Set one pawstep past that boundary, and ThunderClan will have something to say.”

“That sounds fair,” Spikekit said.

Squirrelflight stared at her incredulously. “Do you even know our new territory?”

Spikekit shrugged. Ashfur, meanwhile, having sat down near them at some point, hissed at her and meowed, “Well, Firestar certainly does.”

Hawkfrost glowered at the gray warrior and angled himself so that he could shield Spikekit.

“As far as other news, ShadowClan has chosen Rowanclaw and Nightwing for its messengers,” Blackstar announced begrudgingly.

The rest of the cats were not so begrudging. “Rowanclaw!” “Nightwing!” Leafpaw wasn’t surprised when Squirrelflight joined in, happy for her friend, and excited for the first appointment announced at the lake Gathering.

Blackstar nodded at Firestar to continue. “For our other border,” Firestar said, looking over at Mudclaw, “ThunderClan will use the stream that runs at the bottom of the hill. That way, both cats will have access to the water. We will allow the messengers to use the clearing on ThunderClan’s side of the stream as a place to meet and exchange news.”

“What are you meowing about?” Blackstar growled. “Since when do the messengers have official meeting places?”

“I merely thought that you would prefer to have them meet near the border instead of going all the way to the camps,” Firestar replied. “If you disagree–”

Blackstar cut him off. “No, no, the meeting place is fine.”

Firestar nodded, and Leafpaw thought she could detect a small hint of satisfaction in his green eyes.

“ThunderClan has several pieces of news to share,” he continued. “First, Rainwhisker and Sootfur have been chosen as our messengers.”

“Rainwhisker!” “Sootfur!” The brothers basked in the attention being thrown their way. Swallowtail looked like she was bursting with pride.

“This morning, Squirrelflight, Spiderpaw, and Whitepaw fought off and killed a fox that had invaded ThunderClan territory,” Firestar went on. “Because of their courage, Spiderpaw and Whitepaw have proven themselves worthy of becoming warriors. However, they have chosen to remain apprentices so Birchkit does not have to train alone.”

Which may not be for much longer, Leafpaw thought. If Spikekit is about to join ThunderClan, which I suspect is what she plans to do, she’s the same age as Birchkit. They will train together.

“Squirrelflight!” “Spiderpaw!” “Whitepaw!” The Clans seemed genuinely impressed. Then again, Leafpaw was still impressed and proud of her sister.

“Next, I’m sure you all know Longtail.” This caused confused and surprised murmurs to ripple across the clearing. “After finishing the Great Journey, Longtail has proven that he is just as capable as he was before his injuries. Therefore, he has chosen to return to being a warrior.”

It took a moment for any cat to respond. Clearly this had never happened before. Then Dustpelt let out an impatient hiss and called, “Longtail!” His cry was taken up by everyone else. “Longtail!” “Longtail!”

“I have one more announcement,” Firestar said once the cheering had died down.

“Great StarClan, what now?” Blackclaw growled loudly from where he sat a few tail-lengths away. “ThunderClan has already taken more time than it needs to.”

Mistyfoot glared at him from where she sat among the tree roots. Hawkfrost meanwhile decided to stand for the rude remark. “Shut up, Blackclaw,” he snapped.

“As you all know, ThunderClan has been without a deputy for over a moon,” Firestar began. “But I decided that it was time to choose a new one. Brackenfur is ThunderClan’s new deputy and has been helping to lead our Clan well since his appointment.”

Now Brackenfur finally slipped away from where he sat next to Sorreltail and joined the other deputies.

“Brackenfur!” “Brackenfur!” For a few heartbeats, every cat was cheering. “Brackenfur!” “Brackenfur!”

Mudclaw raised his tail for silence. “On behalf of WindClan, I will be the first to say that you have made an excellent choice,” he said.

“You have Graystripe’s spirit and Firestar’s courage and loyalty,” Mistyfoot told Brackenfur. “May StarClan guide you in this new role.”

“He’s a better choice than Graystripe,” Ashfur muttered. “At least he’s actually mentored his apprentice. Firestar was more his mentor than Graystripe was.”

Squirrelflight glared at him. “If you don’t have something beneficial to say, then don’t say anything. Keep your complaints for the camp.”

“I don’t know,” Spikekit muttered. “I don’t know if I really want to hear him complaining in camp either.”

Ashfur’s eyes flamed, and for a moment it seemed as if he would lunge at her. Then he calmed and stalked off to sit with Blackclaw.

“WindClan will take the fence on the other side of the horseplace as our other border,” Mudclaw announced.

“Which leaves the rest of the territory for WindClan,” Leopardstar put in.

“As for a meeting place, WindClan will allow the messengers to use the strip of woodland at their border with ThunderClan, as well as for speed and running training if the messengers would like,” Mudclaw continued. “WindClan is settling into our new camp. Two of our elders were ill, but they are making a good recovery thanks to a shared supply of watermint.”

“That was risky,” Leafpaw whispered in Squirrelflight’s ear. “He wouldn’t want to make it sound as if WindClan can’t cope without help.”

“There’s a difference between medicine cats sharing herbs and one Clan only surviving because of other Clans,” Squirrelflight pointed out. “Medicine cats share herbs all the time. “It’s perfectly normal.”

“I guess you’re right,” Leafpaw agreed.

“Our messengers are Nightcloud and Snowflight,” Mudclaw went on.

“Nightcloud!” “Snowflight!” Another round of cheering broke out. Leafpaw noted that this was one of the few Gatherings where Clans were guaranteed to have some announcement, despite having not been separated for as long as usual. “Nightcloud!” “Snowflight!”

Snowflight seemed unnerved by the cheers from the other Clans, shrinking back to stay next to Hailpelt. Meanwhile, Nightcloud held her head high, proud and unfazed.

“We also have apprentices to recognize,” Mudclaw announced. “Though they were apprenticed before we made our journey, they were never formally recognized. Dewpaw and Antpaw have begun their training under Ashfoot and Willowclaw.”

“Dewpaw!” “Antpaw!” Just like their Clanmates before them, the two apprentices could not have had a more different reaction from the other. Antpaw stood quietly and calmly, with the dignity of a warrior. Dewpaw, however, immediately bounced to her paws and started waving her tail wildly.

Squirrelflight purred. “Someone’s excited.”

“She makes me seem like a full warrior,” Spikekit joked.

“Every cat makes you seem like a full warrior,” Hawkfrost pointed out. “You’re more mature than most cats your age or in training.”

Leopardstar raised her head to speak, amusement in her eyes at the young WindClan cat’s antics.

“RiverClan’s messengers are Swallowtail and Mosspelt,” she announced. “RiverClan will allow the place we would have gathered to act as a meeting place.”

“You can’t make a queen a messenger!” Onewhisker growled. “She’s supposed to be watching over her kits.”

The RiverClan leader stared at. “Mosspelt has already proven that she is very capable. And as leader of RiverClan, I can do whatever I want as long as it is within the warrior code.”

“Messengers aren’t part of the warrior code!” Blackclaw snarled. “They’re just a foolish idea from a half-witted, mangepelt who should never have been given power in his Clan.”

Beside him, Ashfur nodded. “You leaders think you can do whatever you want, but this, adding a role to the Clans, is serious.”

There was real pain in Ashfur’s voice, and Leafpaw wondered if the deaths of his sister’s kits were really the only thing bothering him.

“StarClan watches over us,” Barkface meowed. “They guide and protect us, but they don’t interfere unless it is absolutely necessary.”

Meanwhile, Leopardstar glared at Blackclaw. “How dare you speak to any cat like that? If it is too much for you to respect him as a leader, you should still respect him as a warrior.”

Blackclaw glared back at her mutinously. “I show respect to cats who have earned it.”

“I apologize for my warrior’s actions,” Leopardstar said as she turned to Mudclaw, clearly trying to calm herself down.

His tail twitched but he said nothing, only giving her a small nod.

“In other news, Ivytail has moved in to the nursery expecting Hawkfrost’s kits,” Leopardstar finished.

There was only a spattering of cheers this time. The interruption had ruined the Gathering’s cheerful mood.

Leafpaw saw Blackclaw watching Hawkfrost with an undeniable expression of hatred and satisfaction, and a heartbeat later, Hawkfrost growled, “That foxheart! He planned this!”

“Right,” Blackstar meowed. “Let’s end this Gathering and go home before anything else happens. Unless any other cat wants to speak?”

There was no reply. The cats began dividing into their Clans. There was none of the usual gossip and leave-taking; every cat wanted to be on their way quickly.

Blackclaw paused in front of them. “What a shame,” he purred in a silky tone. “It appears no one wants to celebrate the arrival of new kin to Tigerstar.”

Before Hawkfrost could reply, he shoved past him and padded off to join some of the other RiverClan warriors.

“I have to stay behind,” Leafpaw told Squirrelflight. “There’s a meeting of medicine cats.”

“Oh right, um, Firestar and I will probably still be here when you finish,” Squirrelflight replied. “Spikekit isn’t exactly the only one who wants to join ThunderClan.” She turned and padded away, drawing Spikekit along with her.

Leafpaw turned to go, but Hawkfrost raised his tail to stop her. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I want to apologize for how I acted before, back in the old territories. I’m truly sorry for the way I treated you and Sorreltail, and for the things I said about ThunderClan. It was wrong of me.”

She felt a weight lift from her chest. “I’m sorry I kept trespassing on your Clan’s territory,” she replied. “Even though I’m a medicine cat, I was still breaking the warrior code. It didn’t help things, and I just made you paranoid.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hawkfrost admitted. “My father has been haunting me since I was announced as a warrior. He would not stop walking beside me while we were in the old forest, and I was afraid he would kill me or Mothwing.”

Leafpaw felt sympathy rise up inside her. “Your path has not been an easy one. None of Tigerstar’s kits have had a normal or simple life, and that’s unfair. But if you need someone to help you, I’m here.”

He smiled. “Thank you for the offer. But I have Mothwing and Ivytail and Mistyfoot and in some ways Leopardstar. Mothwing will be the one who needs you.”

“Just as long as you don’t face everything alone,” Leafpaw asserted. “The point of a Clan is for cats to be able to work together and support each other.”

“Hopefully someday Blackclaw will realize that,” Hawkfrost muttered. He turned to leave. “May StarClan light your path.”

“And may they light yours,” Leafpaw murmured. She felt a light touch on her side. Mothwing was standing next to her.

“Come on. We’re meeting over there.”

Briefly Leafpaw held her back with a wave of her tail. “Are your elders okay?” she asked in a low voice.

Guilt flooded into Mothwing’s eyes. “Yes, but I’m so sorry, Leafpaw. I should have checked that water more carefully.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Leafpaw brushed against her comfortingly. “How could you smell the water when you were covered in mouse bile? Everything’s fine now, and it just meant we had to find new supplies of herbs more quickly than we might have done. That’s a good thing.”

Mothwing didn’t look convinced. She led Leafpaw to the oak. Cinderpelt and Barkface were already there, crouched between the roots. Mothwing and Leafpaw crept in to join them, and a moment later, Littlecloud appeared, coming to sit beside Cinderpelt.

Barkface, as the oldest medicine cat among them, began the meeting. “I’d say StarClan has made it clear where are going to gather. But we still have to find somewhere like the Moonstone where we can share tongues with StarClan. Have any of you had a sign?”

All the cats shook their heads.

“The Gathering place was already the lesser of our concerns,” Cinderpelt pointed out. “Mudclaw needs his name and his nine lives now.”

“StarClan knows what we need,” Littlecloud murmured. “Perhaps they’re trying to tell us, and we’re not recognizing their signs.”

“And perhaps hedgehogs will fly,” Barkface retorted. “Do you think we wouldn’t know if StarClan had sent us a sign about something as important as this?”

“Well, maybe there isn’t a Moon stone place around here,” Mothwing meowed. “I still think we ought to be looking for some kind of body of water.”

Leafpaw winced as Barkface gave her friend an annoyed look. “Do you think they intend for us to use the lake? That makes no sense.”

Mothwing looked down at her paws.

“Perhaps StarClan wants us to go and look for signs,” Leafpaw suggested.

Cinderpelt nodded. “You could be right, Leafpaw. We must keep a careful watch until we meet at the half moon.”

“And ask patrols to keep a lookout for tunnels like Mothermouth,” Barkface added. “If they find anything, their medicine cat can send a message to the rest of us. This is too important for messengers to bring on their own.”

“Good idea,” mewed Cinderpelt.

“If that’s all, we might as well go home,” Barkface rasped. “I just want to thank Leafpaw for the help she gave our elders when they were sick. They’re doing fine now.”

Leafpaw dipped her head.

“Were you elders sick?” Littlecloud asked. “A couple of ours were, too. They must have picked up a bellyache while we were all together. Mothwing, have you had any trouble in RiverClan?”

Mothwing flashed a glance at Leafpaw. “Yes.”

“Well, don’t give us any details, will you?” Barkface growled. “Are your elders okay or not? What did you treat them with?”

“We don’t have any elders at the moment, but I treated Heavystep and Mintfur with juniper berries. And yes, they’re fine, thanks, Barkface.”

Barkface nodded and got up to leave. When the medicine cats climbed away from the roots, Mothwing flicked her tail to draw Leafpaw a little way from the others.

“Thanks for not telling them, Leafpaw,” she mewed.

“That’s okay.” Leafpaw could imagine how Mousefur would react if she found out she had been ill because another cat had given her tainted water.

Mothwing gave her a long look from troubled blue eyes. “Leafpaw, we are friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are,” Leafpaw answered in surprise.

Mothwing hesitated, flexing her claws into the ground. At last she took a deep breath and mewed, “What Cinderpelt said–about watching for signs from StarClan. You do know I only just started getting them, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about? You’re the RiverClan medicine cat! Who else was StarClan speaking to?”

“It’s not that simple, Leafpaw.” Mothwing’s tail twitched nervously.

“B-but you shared tongues with StarClan at the Moonstone, when you were made a medicine cat!” Leafpaw stammered.

Mothwing tensed her shoulders. “I did have a dream then, yes. But when I got back to camp that night, Hawkfrost told me that he had been the one who put the moth’s wing outside Mudfur’s den, that he was responsible for my becoming a medicine cat, not StarClan.”

“Hawkfrost helped make you a medicine cat?”

Her friend shook her head. “It turns out he didn’t. This morning, after I examined Ivytail, Hawkfrost confessed that he watched StarClan place the sign. Tigerstar ordered him to take credit for it or he would kill me.”

“Is learning the truth what convinced you?” Leafpaw asked.

“No. The day Mudfur died, while you were there trying to help, I saw a vision. In it, a white-and-ginger she-cat, I think Mudfur called her Brightsky, appeared. When Mudfur died, his spirit stepped out from his body and the two of them walked off into the sky.” Mothwing stared at Leafpaw. “That’s what restored my faith in StarClan. I know now that there’s no way that they can’t exist, not after that.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re able believe in them now,” Leafpaw meowed. “Do you know how to interpret signs.”

Mothwing’s eyes clouded. “No, I–”

“Leafpaw! Are you coming?” Cinderpelt called. Leafpaw waved her tail in reply; she wanted to hear what Mothwing was about to tell her.

But the RiverClan cat had turned away. “Cinderpelt wants you,” she meowed. “I’ll see you at the next half moon.” Before Leafpaw could say anything, she bounded away.

Leafpaw padded over to join her mentor as they made their way back to the lakeshore. Mothwing had only just started believing in StarClan! She let out a long sigh.

“Is everything okay?” Cinderpelt asked?”

Leafpaw gulped. She didn’t want her mentor to start asking questions about Mothwing. “Yes, fine, thanks,” she replied. “I’m just wondering where Squirrelflight found so many kits.”

“Kits?” Cinderpelt’s eyes widened in surprise as she caught sight of Squirrelflight, Firestar, and Spikekit with a long-furred queen and a trio of younger kits. She quickened her pace to catch up with the group. “Firestar, what in StarClan is going on her?”

Firestar winced, looking almost like an apprentice caught doing battle training instead of taking care of the elders’ ticks. “They want to join the Clan,” he explained.

“Oh, do they?” Cinderpelt said. “Are you letting them?”

He nodded. “They need a place to stay so that Twolegs don’t take them, and ThunderClan needs kits.”

“Fantastic,” the older medicine cat decided. She bent down to sniff the kits. “They seem fine, but I want to take a better look at them tomorrow.”

Firestar flicked his tail. “Come on.”

*  *  *  *  *

By the time they made it back to the hollow, it was nearly moon-high. Normally that meant everyone was asleep.

Instead, a flash of brown crashed into Spikekit, purring heavily. “Spikekit!” Birchkit began rubbing against her, licking all around her face.

Ferncloud came running after him. “I’m so sorry. I tried to stop him, but as soon as he caught her scent, he came running.”

“It’s all right,” Spikekit purred from beside Birchkit, who was still rubbing against her. “I missed you too, Birchkit.”

“I missed you so much!” he exclaimed dramatically. “There are no other kits here. And my brother and his mate postponed their warrior ceremony for me, but now they don’t have to!” He started to lick her ears.

Leafpaw tried to get his attention. “You know, Spikekit isn’t the only one who came here tonight.”

He ignored her and instead, Ferncloud looked over. Her eyes stretched wide when she saw the others. “Who are these cats?” she asked gently.

“That’s Daisy, and the little ones are my siblings: Berry, Hazel, and Mouse,” Spikekit introduced, ducking out from under Birchkit’s affectionate licking.

Ferncloud dipped her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Daisy,” she said. “Let’s get you and your kits into the nursery. Don’t worry,” she said warmly as she led the way, “we’ll look after all of you.” She ducked into the nursery and began pulling moss and bracken together to make a warm, thick nest.

Once she had finished, the three younger kits flopped down on top of it, exhausted from the long trip. They nestled together drowsily, while Daisy wrapped herself around them.

“I heard there are kits here. Can I see?” Sorreltail stuck her head into the nursery. When she saw Daisy and her litter, she pushed her way through the branches to crouch beside the nest. “Oh, they’re beautiful!” she purred.

Leafpaw was surprised at her friend’s reaction, since the tortoiseshell wasn’t normally one to frequent the nursery. Squirrelflight slid over to join her and whispered, “Do you think Sorreltail is expecting kits?”

“It’s a little early to tell, but it’s possible,” Leafpaw whispered back.

Since the kits seemed to be healthy, though exhausted, everyone but their mother, Sorreltail, and Ferncloud went back into the clearing. Birchkit and Spikekit were chattering excitedly with the apprentices, while several other cats, having been awoken by Birchkit’s initial excitement, crowded around. Ashfur looked furious, while several other cats seemed troubled by Daisy’s arrival.

“How long are you going to let them stay?” Dustpelt asked the Clan leader.

Firestar twitched the tip of his tail. “That depends on a lot of things. How long do they want to stay?”

“We’re staying,” Spikekit announced to everyone. “The Twolegs took my littermates and killed my mother, so Daisy decided to come here with me to keep her kits safe.”

“That’s a good reason,” Firestar commented.

“Does that mean you’d let them join the Clan? Permanently?” Ashfur’s tone was clearly challenging. “Five kittypets?”

Behind her, Leafpaw could feel Squirrelflight’s anger, and the growl rising in her sister’s throat. She tried to push down her own resentment. Had Ashfur forgotten that Firestar had been a kittypet?

“You only have to look at Daisy to tell she probably never killed a mouse in her life,” Ashfur went on. “She’ll need a lot of help to live out here.”

“True,” Firestar admitted. “But ThunderClan needs more young cats. We only have two apprentices, who are about to be made warriors, and once Birchkit is made an apprentice, it will be moons before we have any other kits old enough to begin their training.

Brackenfur and Sorreltail, who had emerged from the nursery to stand beside him, blinked at each other. Leafpaw suspected she knew what unspoken communication was passing between them.

“But these are kittypets,” Ashfur objected. “How are they going to learn–”

Cloudtail whipped around to face the gray warrior, but before he could, Spikekit spoke up instead. “We’re not as soft as you think. Back at the horseplace, the Twolegs didn’t go out of their way to feed us. Smoky, Floss, and I hunted for Daisy and the kits. And if you really want to talk to me about strength, I made the Great Journey with you.! I didn’t have to, but I chose to continue, as a kit. So I am just as strong as Clan cat.”

“Have you forgotten that your Clan leader was a kittypet? That I, your adopted brother, was a kittypet? I’ll show you that a kittypet can claw off your ears any time.”

Ashfur took a step back, his eyes flaring. The rest of the cats looked shocked too, including Brightheart. Leafpaw hadn’t realized that her kin was still so sensitive about his kittypet origins; they were never mentioned by his Clanmates, and he had arrived in ThunderClan as a tiny kit, long before she had been born.

“If Cloudtail doesn’t claw you, I will,” Squirrelflight hissed, padding forward to stand beside the white warrior and glaring furiously at Ashfur. Brambleclaw came to stand on her other side, though Leafpaw knew he wasn’t in any shape to fight.

“That’s enough.” Firestar thrust between the bristling antagonists. “Sheathe your claws. There’ll be no fighting here.”

“Thank you for standing up for us.” The quiet voice came from behind her. Leafpaw turned to see that Daisy had appeared at the entrance to the nursery. “I couldn’t help hearing what you were saying. I didn’t intend to cause any trouble when I left home.  I only wanted to protect my kits. If there’s a problem with having us here, we’ll leave in the morning.”

“It’s not a problem,” Squirrelflight assured her instantly.

“You can stay as long as you want,” Firestar added, padding across to stand in front of Daisy. “But if you decide to leave, you need to think very carefully about where you’ll go. The life of a loner is difficult. Are you used to catching your own food?”

“The Nofurs fed us occasionally,” Daisy explained, blinking anxiously. “So we did catch mice in the barn, though there aren’t many mice there–but I’m out of practice because I’ve been taking care of my kits. Smoky, Floss, and Spikekit have been doing most of the hunting lately.”

Firestar nodded. “Clan cats do the same for their queens and kits. We’ll help you get more practice with hunting. And we’ll train your kits in our ways.”

Sorreltail gave her a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to decide right now. Why don’t you go back to your kits and get some rest.”

“We won’t make any decisions with talking to you,” Firestar added. He turned toward the apprentices, who were still with the older kits, but before he could say anything, Birchkit darted to the fresh-kill pile and picked out a plump pigeon. He went over to Daisy and dropped in front of her.

“Here, you should have this,” he offered.

Daisy gave him a surprised smile and picked it up in her jaws before slipping back into the nursery.

“Don’t think this means you’re going to be made an apprentice early,” Brackenfur teased the kit, who playfully sighed.

“But there are two cats who are going to be made warriors now,” Firestar announced proudly. He bounded up the rocks to the Highledge and looked down at the Clan. “Spiderpaw, Whitepaw, come forward.”

The two cats quickly gave themselves a few cleaning licks before making their way to the center of the clearing. Birchkit ran to the nursery to call Ferncloud, who came out and settled down next to Dustpelt.

“I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices.” Firestar’s voice sounded in the silent night air. “They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn.” He fixed his gaze on Spiderpaw and went on, “Spiderpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” Spiderpaw replied eagerly.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Spiderpaw, from this moment you will be known as Spiderleg. StarClan honors your courage and your enthusiasm, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”

He took a pace forward and rested his muzzle on the top of Spiderleg’s head. The young warrior gave Firestar’s shoulder a respectful lick, then stepped back to join the other warriors.

“Whitepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” she promised.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Whitepaw, from this moment you will be known as Whitewing. StarClan honors your diligence and your kindness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”

He took a pace forward and rested his muzzle on the top of Whitewing’s head. She gave Firestar’s shoulder a respectful lick, then stepped back to join the other Spiderleg.

“Spiderleg!” “Whitewing!” “Spiderleg!” “Whitewing!”

“Normally a new warrior would sit vigil after their ceremony,” Firestar announced, once the cheering had died down. “However, because you both were at the Gathering, you will sit vigil tomorrow, and Squirrelflight will sit vigil with you.”

He waved his tail to end the meeting. Dustpelt and Ferncloud went over to Spiderleg, while Brightheart and Cloudtail congratulated Whitewing.

The scene in front of her filled Leafpaw with happiness, but she wondered when she would receive her name. As a medicine apprentice, she knew it would most likely be a while, and it was far more important to focus on finding a new place to communicate with StarClan first.

Please show us where to go.

Chapter Text

In the days following the Gathering, Leafpaw searched desperately for anything that could be interpreted as a sign from StarClan. She roamed through the woods, finding places by the stream where burdock and more marigold grew, and thick clumps of chervil closer to the camp. But even though it was useful to find new stocks of healing herbs, they didn’t lead her to a place where the Clans could meet with their warrior ancestors. What would happen if the half moon came and StarClan hadn’t sent a sign? Would the Clans start thinking about leaving their new homes and finding somewhere else?

She’d been surprised at how close Spikekit and Birchkit were. It had turned out that the she-kit had spent most of her time with him and Tallpoppy’s kits until they’d reached the lake. Then she had decided that Hawkfrost needed her protection more than the other kits did.

The two oldest kits were practically inseparable these days, playing together, and Birchkit often showed Spikekit, and occasionally the younger kits, all of his favorite places to hide in the hollow.

Two days before the half moon, Leafpaw returned from an herb-gathering expedition with a bunch of strong-scented yarrow. Her eyes were watering, but she recognized Brackenfur coming out of the tunnel through the thorns. He bounded up to Sorreltail, who was on guard.

“Hi, there,” he meowed, touching noses with the tortoiseshell warrior. “Do you want to come hunting later–just you and me?”

Sorreltail let out a purr. “Sure. I’m off duty at sunhigh.”

“Great! I’ll see you then.” Brackenfur gave her ears a quick lick and pushed his way back through the tunnel.

Leafpaw padded up to her friend and put down the yarrow stalks. “So that’s how the prey’s running, is it?”

Sorreltail spun around to face her. “I don’t know what you mean!” she protested.

Leafpaw’s tail curled up with amusement. “Just because I’m a medicine cat doesn’t mean I can’t tell that you and Brackenfur love each other. You’ve been spending all your time together since we left the forest.”

“Well…” Sorreltail’s white forepaws kneaded the ground. “He’s great, isn’t her?” she mewed, her eyes shining with a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

“He certainly is.” Leafpaw pressed her muzzle to her friend’s side. “Firestar wouldn’t have made him deputy if he wasn’t. I’m really happy for you.”

She wished Sorreltail good hunting, then picked up her yarrow and ducked under the thorns that guarded the entrance to the hollow.

“There you are!” Cinderpelt meowed, limping across the clearing to meet her. “Come and look at this.”

Leafpaw followed her over to the tallest part of the cliff. Brambles had rooted themselves in a crack a few tail-lengths up the rock, their long tendrils hanging down in a curtain.

“The brambles here were really thorny,” Cinderpelt explained. “Far too thick for shelter, so this morning I asked Rainwhisker and Sootfur to shift them before their meetings with ShadowClan and RiverClan. And look what they found.”

She slipped behind the prickly curtain, beckoning with her tail. Leafpaw peered carefully around the tendris and stopped dead in amazement. A deep cleft yawned in front of her, stretching far enough back that the corners were lost hin shadow. At one side, water dripped down to form a tiny pool. The rest of the floor was covered with broken rock, but in between there were patches of sand that would be cool and dry to lie on.

Cinderpelt’s eyes gleamed in the semidarkness. “A perfect medicine cat’s den!” she announced. “What do you think?”

Leafpaw gazed around this was much better than the spot under the overhang where she and Cinderpelt had been sleeping until now. The little pool meant sick cats could drink easily, and there were plenty of cracks in the rock where they could store herbs. She could sleep just outside in the shelter of the remaining brambles, so Cinderpelt had some privacy.

“It’s great!” she mewed excitedly. “I’ll clear out the broken rocks and bring some moss for a nest.”

Cinderpelt called Firestar to see her discovery, and the Clan leader summoned Cloudtail and Brightheart to help clear out the den. By the time daylight faded, everything was ready, with comfortable nests of moss and bracken for both the medicine cats.

Leafpaw curled up in her new nest and tucked her nose under her tail. She was warm and sheltered beneath the tangle of brambles, and the cleft was barely a tail-length away, so she could be with a sick cat in less than two heartbeats if they called out during the night. Worn out from moving rocks all afternoon, she shut her eyes.

Almost at once, she found herself padding along the shore of the lake with starlight washing around her paws. A familiar scent swept over her, and she looked back to see Spottedleaf waiting for her.

She bounded along the shore toward the medicine cat. “Spottedleaf!” she cried. She stopped, sending pebbles rolling away from her paws, and gazed at Spottedleaf until she felt lost in the medicine cat’s shining eyes. “I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

“I am here now,” Spottedleaf murmured. She ran her muzzle, soft as cobweb, over Leafpaw’s ears.

Leafpaw closed her eyes, feeling safe in the StarClan cat’s presence. Then she stepped back and took a deep, steadying breath. “Why has StarClan been silent?” she asked, struggling with unfamiliar feelings of anger that Spottedleaf had let her go on worrying for so long. “We have searched and searched for another Moonstone, but we haven’t found one. Even with the island as our Gathering place, what will we do if we don’t have somewhere to share tongues with the rest of StarClan? Will we have to leave?”

“Peace, little one,” Spottedleaf mewed. “Don’t forget that StarClan had to travel here too. This is a new place for us as well, and it will take time to explore every part of it. Feathertail was able to tell you about the island because she is a bridge between the Clans and the ancestors. And now, starlight on water will show you where to go.”

“Do you mean the lake?”

“No. you must seek a different path this time.”

“Where? Please show me!” Leafpaw begged.

Spottedleaf turned and bounded away. “Wait!” Leafpaw called, but the former medicine cat had already been swallowed up by the shadows.

Leafpaw raced after her. Suddenly the lake vanished and she was running uphill beside a starlit stream; even though she couldn’t see Spottedleaf, the familiar scent hung in the air, guiding her on. Leafpaw’s ears filled with the sound of tumbling, sparkling water, and when she looked down into the stream, she felt as if she would drown in starlight.

“Spottedleaf, where are you?”

Her cry echoed around her, bouncing off the rocks and shattering the noise of the waterfall. Leafpaw woke up, gasping and scrabbling in her mossy nest. An owl hooted in the trees over head, and she let out a hiss of frustration. She had lost Spottedleaf’s trail amd might never find out what the medicine cat had wanted to show her. Her heart pounded with the urge to keep running, to climb into the hills and find the sparkling stream.

Peeking into the cleft, she could just see the gray curve of Cinderpelt’s back, her flank gently rising and falling as she slept. Leafpaw slipped out of the brambles and paused to shake scraps of moss from her fur. It had rained heavily earlier and the walls of the hollow sparkled with raindrops, but now the clouds had cleared away. The moon floated out from behind the trees, and the sky was filled with stars. A cool wind stirred the branches, and Leafpaw heard Spottedleaf’s voice among the gentle rustling: “I am here. Come to me.”

I will come, Spottedleaf, she replied silently. Wait for me.

She padded quietly toward the camp entrance. When she was halfway across the clearing, a tortoiseshell shape appeared from behind some ferns. Leafpaw caught her breath. “Spottedleaf? Is that you?”

“Leafpaw?” came the surprised reply. It was Sorreltail. “Where are you going?”

“I-I’m not sure,” Leafpaw admitted. “I’ve had a message from StarClan. I have to go and find our new Moonstone place.”

“Now? Can’t you wait for daylight?”

“No.” Leafpaw flexed her claws. “I have to follow a stream filled with starlight.”

“What stream?” Sorreltail’s tail twitched anxiously. “Is it outside our territory? How do you know where to find it?”

“I just do.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Sorreltail mewed.

Leafpaw hesitated. Would StarClan mind if she brought a warrior with her, rather than another medicine cat? Then she remembered that all the cats, including warriors, would go to the Moonstone at least once, and she decided that it would be fine. Besides, she like the thought of having Sorreltail’s company, especially if they ran into any trouble. She didn’t know exactly where they were going, after all.

“Come on, then!” Leafpaw led the way to the thorn tunnel, where Brackenfur sat on guard with his tail curled neatly around his paws.

“Where are you two going?” he asked, getting up as the two she-cats approached.

“Just out,” Sorreltail replied.

“I’ve had a sign from StarClan,” Leafpaw mewed, knowing that Brackenfur deserved an explanation if he was going to let them leave camp in the middle of the night. “I have to go and find the new Moonstone.”

To her dismay, Brackenfur still looked uncertain. “It’s too dangerous for you to go off before daylight. We hardly know this territory yet.”

“Can’t you trust us?” Sorreltail pleaded. “Can’t you trust me? I’ll bring Leafpaw home safe, I promise.”

She and Brackenfur exchanged a long look, and at last the ginger warrior nodded. “Okay, but be careful.”

“Don’t you think we can look after ourselves?” Sorreltail teased, flicking Brackenfur lightly across the ears with her tail.

Brackenfur let out an amused purr. “Sorreltail, if any cat can look after herself, it’s you.”

Leafpaw took the lead, racing through the forest until she came to the stream that marked the boundary between ThunderClan and WindClan. It ran dark and secret, shadowed by bushes on overhanging banks and looking nothing like the sparkling stream she had run beside in her dream.

She bounded up the slope and stopped at the edge of the trees. In her dream, she had been running on open hillside, so she knew they had to leave the trees behind.

“Where next?” Sorreltail panted.

“Up,” Leafpaw replied.

They padded onward, following the boundary stream out of the woods and up the hill. When Leafpaw closed her eyes, she felt as if two cats flanked her, one on each side: her best friend Sorreltail and Spottedleaf, invisible but for the faintest brush of fur. When Leafpaw opened her eyes, she thought she could hear a third set of pawsteps, just on the edge of sound.

As they followed the stream into the hills, Leafpaw decided to tell Sorreltail about her dream. “I met Spottedleaf at the edge of the lake, and she told me that starlight on water would be the sign. Not in the lake, but in a stream. The next moment, I was running uphill beside a stream, and the water was full of stars.”

“Did you know where you were?”

“I couldn’t see anything I recognized. There were no trees, and the air felt cold and clear, as if I were somewhere very high.”

“We’d better keep climbing, then,” Sorreltail meowed.

The stream slid quietly over its stony bed, the water dark and glimmering. Leafpaw’s head was still full of the surge and bubbling of the stream Spottedleaf had shown her. As they went on, it seemed to grow steadily louder, even when they reached the source of the boundary stream and left it far behind.

“I’m coming, StarClan,” Leafpaw murmured.

They came to a cleft in the hills, where the land dipped down as if sliced by a giant claw. The falley was lined with gorse and bracken, and it grew steeper and narrower as they went on, the ground littered with broken rocks. Leafpaw reached the end of the valley first, where it led to a sheer, rocky slope. She stopped to wait for Sorreltail, whose tail was beginning to droopy with weariness, though she still padded on determinedly. But Leafpaw felt as though she could run forever. The sound in her head roared and tumbled like the waterfall in the mountains where the Tribe of Rushing Water lived. She had grown so used to hearing it echo in her mind that for several heartbeats she didn’t realize she could hear it in the waking world too.

“Come on!” she cried to Sorreltail. “We’re almost there!”

She launched herself upward, scrabbling and slipping on the damp rock. The peak above her was outlined by the first faint signs of dawn, but stars still shone in the indigo sky.

Wait for me! She begged the glittering warriors. Glancing back at Sorreltail, she called, “Hurry–before the starshine fades!”

She turned to run on, and froze. A cat was standing a few tail–lengths above her, her ears pricked and her tail held high. Had one of the other medicine cats been guided to this place too? Then she realized it was Spottedleaf, waiting patiently for her, trusting her to find this place even though she had lost her in the dream.

When Leafpaw leapt up to joining her, she saw that she stood on the bank of a stream pouring down a deep channel in the rock. Starlight glittered on the surface of the water as it spilled over the stones.

“We’re here!” Leafpaw breathed. “We’ve found it!”

“Follow me,” Spottedleaf urged.

Leafpaw beckoned Sorreltail with her tail. “Quick! Spottedleaf’s here!”

The tortoiseshell warrior joined Leafpaw in a couple of bounds and looked around. “Where?”

“There!” Leafpaw gestured to the starlit shape standing a couple of tail-lengths away on the edge of the stream.

“I can’t see her,” Sorreltail meowed. She looked worriedly at Leafpaw. “Is that a problem?”

Leafpaw gently drew her tail over SOrreltail’s eyes. “No, of course not. She can see that you are here, and that’s all that matters. Trust me, she is with us.”

Spottedleaf turned away and began to follow the stream upward. Leafpaw scrambled eagerly after her. The ground sloped more steeply than before, and the starlit stream vanished among a barrier of thornbushes that swallowed Spottedleaf like a fish diving into water.

Leafpawstopped and put her head to one side as she studied the bushes. She had to follow Spottedleaf, but she’d be clawed to pieces by thorns if she tried to push her way through. Then she spotted a tiny gap and ducked between the prickly stems; there was just enough room to squeeze through without losing half her fur, though the thorns still tugged at her pelt. Behind her, she could hear Sorreltail following, her breath rasping with the effort of running up the last stretch of rock.

A heartbeat later, Leafpaw emerged on the edge of a steep-sided hollow. The ground fell sharply away on the other side of the thornbushes, and Leafpaw swayed for a moment as she struggled to keep her balance. It was much smaller than the hollow where ThunderClan had made their camp, clear of gorse and bramble and with sides that sloped more gently, lined with moss-covered rocks. Only on the far side did the ground rise into a sheer cliff, shaggy with moss and fern. Water bubbled out from a cleft about halfway up and splashed into a pool in the center of the hollow. The surface of the pool danced and flittered with reflected starlight. It was the most beautiful place Leafpaw had ever seen.

Spottedleaf was standing at the edge of the water. “Come,” she meowed, beckoning with her tail.

Just beside Leafpaw’s paws a narrow path curved around the side of the hollow, spiraling steadily until it reached the pool below.

She heard Sorreltail push her way out of the thorns behind her. “Wow!” she breathed. “Is this it?”

“I think so,” Leafpaw replied. “Spottedleaf wants me to go down to the pool.”

“Shall I come too?” Sorreltail offered.

Leafpaw shook her head. “I think I should go alone the first time.”

Leaving Sorreltail on the edge of the hollow, she stepped carefully down the path. The rock was dimpled with ancient paw prints, too many to count, and with each step, she felt her paws slip into the marks left by cats many, many moons before. They were long gone, but Leafpaw’s fur tingled just to know they once had been here.

At last she stood beside Spottedleaf at the edge of the pool.

“Look at the water, Leafpaw,” the ghostly cat murmured.

Puzzled, Leafpaw looked down, and she felt the stone beneath her paws lurch. Instead of stars, she saw the reflections of cats, their moonlit pelts shimmering. Countless pairs of eyes gleamed expectantly at her, as if they had known she would come.

Hardly daring to breathe, Leafpaw looked up. All around her sat the shining warriors of StarClan, lining the hollow’s sloping sides. Their eyes glowed like tiny moons, and their fur was tipped with the glitter of frost.

“Don’t be afraid,” Spottedleaf murmured. “We have been waiting for you to find your way to us.”

Leafpaw wasn’t afraid. She was conscious of nothing but warmth and goodwill in the starry gazes fixed on her. Most of the warriors were unfamiliar to her, but in one of the front rows she saw Dappletail, the ThunderClan elder who had died from eating a rabbit poisoned by the Twolegs. The she-cat looked graceful and beautiful, not thin and desperate as she had been when Leafpaw last saw her. Her eyes glowed with welcome, and she nodded toward two small shapes near the water’s edge, tumbling together as they chased a shaft of moonlight. As their play brought them close to her, Leafpaw drank in their familiar kit scent. With a stab of joy, she recognized Birchkit’s littermates Hollykit and Larchkit. Their brother Shrewpaw reached out with a paw to nudge the starry kits away from the water’s edge.

I must tell Ferncloud, thought Leafpaw, knowing how happy she would be to know that her children were safe in the ranks of StarClan.

Then she realized that one cat was missing. She ran her gaze quickly around the hollow to make sure. There was no sign of Graystripe. Leafpaw’s heart leaped. Did that mean Firestar was right when he insisted that his friend was still alive?

Across the pool, a blue-gray warrior rose to her paws. She reminded Leafpaw of some cat… Of course, she’s the image of Mistyfoot! This must be Bluestar, Mistyfoot’s mother, and ThunderClan’s leader before Firestar.

“Welcome, Leafpaw,” Bluestar meowed. “We are delighted you have found this place. It is where medicine cats must come to share tongues with us, and where leaders will receive their nine lives and their names.”

“It’s beautiful, Bluestar,” Leafpaw whispered. “Thank you for helping me find it.”

“You must go back and tell all the Clans,” Bluestar continued. “But first there are two cats who wish to speak with their daughter.”

As if the words had summoned her, Sorreltail padded down the path to sit beside Leafpaw. A heartbeat later, two cats emerged from the ranks of the StarClan cats. The first was a snowy-white tom with yellow eyes, and the second was a slender, pale silver-blue light-gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes.

“Willowpelt? Whitestorm?” Sorreltail breathed. “Is that really you?”

“It’s us, dear one,” Willowpelt purred, touching her nose to her daughter’s.

Whitestorm rested his tail on Sorreltail’s shoulder. “We have been watching over,” he said. “We were there when you were trained; we stayed with you when you were injured by the monster; we cheered when you and your brothers received your warrior names; and we walked alongside you when left the forest and crossed the mountains to find this place.”

“You have become such an incredible warrior.” Willowpelt’s voice was soft. “We are so proud of you.”

“I-we’ve missed you so much!” Sorreltail exclaimed, her voice shaking. She leaned against her parents.

“We have missed you as well,” Whitestorm rumbled. “But we will continue to watch over you, and someday, hopefully a long time from now, we will be there to guide to StarClan.”

Sorreltail closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and Leafpaw wondered if she was trying to memorize their scents.

“Be well, daughter,” Willowpelt murmured. “We will always be watching over you.”

She pressed her muzzle to Sorreltail’s. Whitestorm gave the warrior a gentle lick.

The StarClan cats began to fade until they were little more than a starry sheen around the slopes of the hollow, and then they were gone. Leafpaw caught one more breath of Spottedleaf’s scent before that faded too.

One cat whispered in her ear, giving her a message to deliver.

She looked up and saw that the sky was growing brighter. Sorreltail was standing completely still beside her.

“Are you all right?” Leafpaw asked her.

Sorreltail took a deep breath, not answering at first. After a moment, she nodded. “I am. It was nice to see them again.”

“And you’ll see them again,” Leafpaw meowed. She gazed around the hollow with the sound of tumbling starlit water filling her ears.

“Are you sure?”

At that moment, the rays of the moon caught the surface of the water, and a pure white light flooded the hollow.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Leafpaw meowed. “We no longer have the Moonstone–but we have the Moonpool. This is the place where StarClan will share tongues with us.” She turned to Sorreltail, feeling her fur glitter with starlight.

“You will see your parents again. This is where the Clans are meant to be.”

Chapter Text

Brambleclaw kept his ears pricked for the sound of prey as he slipped though the undergrowth. He could hear Thornclaw, Dustpelt, and Longtail padding close behind him, their bellies close to the ground as they ducked under the bracken.

The patrol emerged from the bracken and padded along the edge of a broad Twoleg path. This was the farthest a patrol had been from the camp. Until now, they had been busy organizing the dens and barriers in the hollow, and they had found enough prey close by to feed every cat. Now they were beginning to range farther, though the fox encounter had made everyone more cautious when exploring the more distant parts of the territory. Brambleclaw felt especially apprehensive, having only been deemed healed enough to leave camp a few days ago.

Something about the path made Brambleclaw uneasy. “I’m not sure I like this,” he muttered. “It’s too much like a Thunderpath.” His belly clenched as he remembered how the Twoleg monsters had torn through the forest, leaving a swath of devastation wider than this, but just as straight.

Thornclaw carefully tasted the air. “I don’t think it can be,” he meowed after a moment. “There’s no scent of Twolegs or monsters.”

Brambleclaw drew in a long breath and realized that the golden brown warrior was right. There was no sign of Twolegs, not even stale scent. But there was still something very familiar about the path. “It might be an old Thunderpath,” he guessed. “Maybe the Twolegs let the grass grow over it.”

“Why would they do that?” Thornclaw wondered.

“Because they’re mouse-brained,” Dustpelt retorted sourly. “All Twolegs are mouse-brained.” He spotted a vole beneath the nearest bush and began to creep toward it.

Watching him, Brambleclaw went on puzzling about the path. If the Twolegs had cut rock from the stone hollow, perhaps they had needed a new Thunderpath to take it away. He twitched his ears. It wasn’t important, as long as there were no Twolegs here now.

Suddenly Dustpelt let out a hiss. Brambleclaw froze, his fur bristling as he followed the brown warrior’s gaze through the trees. He could just make out the stone walls of a Twoleg nest.

“There’s still no scent,” Thornclaw mewed. He looked at Brambleclaw. “What do you want to do?”

Part of Brambleclaw wanted to turn and run back to the hollow as fast as he could. He thought of the nest they had discovered in ShadowClan’s territory when they made the first patrol around the lake, and the two ferocious kittypets they had disturbed. But the Clan needed to know everything about their new territory. “Let’s take a look,” he decided.

Another, narrower path led to the nest from the path they were traveling along, but Brambleclaw took a more direct course through the trees, creeping up on the nes with his belly flattened to the ground.

It was very different from the nests in Twolegplace. There was a door made from flat wooden strips, but they were broken and rotten and hung crookedly from one side. The big square holes in the walls were empty, so wind and rain could blow straight in. the nest looked dark and silent, full of confusing scents.

A shiver went through Brambleclaw, raising every hair on his pelt.

Longtail rested his tail on Brambleclaw’s shoulder. “It’s going to be all right,” the pale tabby assured him. “There are no Twoleg scents here, and you’re not alone. We’ll check things out together.”

Brambleclaw wanted to leave without going one pawstep nearer, but he knew what Squirrelflight would say: You never went inside! Are you a mouse or what?

“Thanks, Longtail,” he mewed gratefully. He stalked up to the doorway, his companions following. They were hard on his paws as he climbed the steps and slipped inside the Twoleg nest.

The weak shaft of light slanting through the door revealed rough gray walls and floors made from splintered strips of wood, with weeds pushing up through the gaps. Straight ahead, a slope of jutting blocks led up to another level. There was no Twoleg scent, just a powerful aroma of prey. The cracks in the stone walls and the spaces under the floorboards would make good hiding places for mice and voles. Brambleclaw heard Thornclaw’s paws thump on the wood, and glanced back to see his Clanmate with a mouse dangling from his jaws.

“Well done!” he whispered.

Dustpelt looked impressed. “This could be a useful place,” he meowed. “Provided the Twolegs don’t come back.”

Brambleclaw agreed–the prey was certainly plentiful and easy to catch–but he didn’t like the feeling the place gave him. It was as desolate and hollow as an empty den, and he wondered why the Twolegs had abandoned it.

“Do you want to go up there?” Thornclaw twitched his ears toward the steeply sloping blocks.

“Not if StarClan themselves came and begged me,” Dustpelt mewed. “That doesn’t look safe at all.”

Longtail nodded. “No cat should go up there.”

“I’ll take a quick look,” Brambleclaw meowed, imagining Squirrelflight’s impulsive nature.

He ran swiftly up the blocks before he could spend too long worrying what he might find at the top. As he burst onto the next level, which was made of strips of wood like the floor below, a loud squawking and the rattle of wings set his heart thudding. A moment later, he realized it was only a pigeon, disturbed by his sudden appearance. Scattering gray and white feathers, it fluttered down to the floor below.

A quiet thudding of paws sounded, and the pigeon let out another distressed cry, only to be cut off.

Brambleclaw padded cautiously forward, peering around until he was sure the place was empty. When he scrambled down to ground level again, he found that Dustpelt had caught another mouse, Longtail had killed the pigeon, and Thornclaw was crouched in front of a crack in the wall with his ears pricked.

“We don’t have time to hunt now,” Brambleclaw warned hem. He was feeling trapped inside the Twoleg walls, and his paws itched to be out in the open again. “We can find more prey outside, and we need to report this to Firestar. Let’s go.

Reluctantly Thornclaw followed him out again, and the four cats headed back along the abandoned Thunderpath.

Dustpelt and Thornclaw went straight to the heap of fresh-kill, while Longtail brought the pigeon to the nursery. Brambleclaw padded over to his Clan leader, who was sitting with Sandstorm and Squirrelflight. “Firestar I think you should know what we found today,” he meowed, and described the empty Twoleg nest.

“And there was no scent of Twolegs at all?” Firestar asked when he’d finished.

Brambleclaw shook his head. “It seems to be a good place for prey, and I suppose it might be useful in the future.”

“Maybe shelter,” Sandstorm suggested, “if the weather gets very bad. Or if there was another fire…” She shivered, and Brambleclaw knew how she felt. He could just remember the flames that had swept through the old ThunderClan camp, devouring everything in their way. He wasn’t sure that even the stone walls of the Twoleg nest would protect them from that sort of fire.

“Hey.” It took a moment for Brambleclaw to recognize the voice. “You’re not there, Brambleclaw,” Squirrelflight meowed, pressing close to him. “There’s no fire.”

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Right,” he muttered. “Thanks.”

Firestar was looking at Sandstorm. “Perhaps. Well done, all of you,” he meowed.

“I’m going out again,” Brambleclaw told him. “We need more fresh-kill. Squirrelflight, do you want to come with me?”

The ginger warrior gave him a smile. She rose to her paws and flicked her tail. “Of course, stupid furball! Come on, then.”

Brambleclaw stood up too, ready to leave.

“Don’t go out again just yet, Brambleclaw,” Firestar meowed. “You’ve been working your paws off ever since Cinderpelt let you go back to your duties, and you need to rest. And that’s an order,” he added, as Brambleclaw opened his mouth to protest. “The sun’s hardly up, and you’ve already done one patrol. Go eat, and then take it easy until sunhigh. Do you think I want one of my best warriors re-opening an injury?”

Brambleclaw dipped his head and turned away. Squirrelflight walked beside him as he headed over to the fresh-kill pile. After he picked a piece of fresh-kill, she touched her muzzle to his and joined Spiderleg and Whitewing. The three cats left the hollow.

Thornclaw had been watching, and when Brambleclaw sat beside him with a vole he had chosen, he twitched his ears. “How’d you convince her to go without you?” he mewed, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

“I said I didn’t mind staying behind and that I would try taking a nap,” Brambleclaw grunted.

It hadn’t been easy to convince her to leave. Squirrelflight was the most loyal cat he knew, and she didn’t like leaving the cats she cared about behind.

He stayed there for a while, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his pelt. Eventually, the sound of excited voices jolted him back to full consciousness, and he sprang to his paws.

Staring towards the center of the clearing, he saw several cats all huddled together; as Brambleclaw drew closer, he saw that they were clustering around Leafpaw and Sorreltail.

The young she-cats looked exhausted, but very pleased with themselves. Leafpaw was speaking to Firestar, gesturing with her tail as if she were pointing out something.

“What’s going on?” Brambleclaw asked.

Brightheart glanced around with a gleam of excitement in her good eye. “Leafpaw and Sorreltail have found the Moonpool!”

“The Moonpool? What’s that?”

No cat answered, too eager to listen to what Leafpaw was saying, so Brambleclaw squeezed forward until he could hear as well.

“We climbed beside the WindClan boundary, into the hills, a long way beyond the edge of our territory. And then we found the stream, and the starlight was so bright, I knew it would show us the way. We followed it until we came to a pool…” Leafpaw’s voice dropped to scarcely more than a whisper. “It’s where we must go to share tongues with StarClan.”

Brambleclaw closed his eyes and sent a prayer of thanks to his warrior ancestors. They had shown them the place that would replace the Moonstone. The Clans really were meant to be here; there would be no need to embark on another long and exhausting journey.

Cinderpelt pressed her muzzle against Leafpaw’s shoulder. “You have done something very special today,” she told her. “The Clans will remember this for many seasons.”

“The vision could have come to any medicine cat,” Leafpaw mewed, her eyes wide.

“But it came to you,” Firestar put in. “The Clan thanks both of you,” he added, with a nod to Sorreltail.

“Tomorrow night is the half moon,” Cinderpelt went on more briskly. “We must send a message at once to the other medicine cats, so that we can meet at the Moonpool.”

“I’ll go,” Leafpaw offered.

“You’ve traveled far enough for one day,” Firestar pointed out gently. “You can’t go all around the lake as well.”

Cinderpelt flicked her ears in agreement. “It’s too far for one cat anyway, if we’re to meet in time,” she pointed out. “From what Leafpaw says, we’ll need to set out by sunset tomorrow at the latest. Let me go to ShadowClan and RiverClan, and Leafpaw can rest before she takes word to WindClan.”

“Good idea,” meowed Firestar. “But do you have to go, Cinderpelt? I can send a warrior instead.”

Cinderpelt shook her head. “No, this is news that must come from a medicine cat.”

“Then I want one warrior and a messenger to go with you. We saw at the Gathering that every Clan is sensitive about their territories right now.”

Brambleclaw stepped forward. “I’ll go.” He wanted to see the message carried to Littlecloud and Mothwing, to prove to their Clans that this was the place they had meant to settle. It felt like the final stage of the journey that began with the dream that sent him to the sun-drown-place, in search of a badger called Midnight.”

“Thanks, Brambleclaw. Rainwhisker, will you go?”

“Of course!” Rainwhisker meowed enthusiastically. Excitement gleamed in his eyes, and Brambleclaw wondered if it were just the thought of escorting a medicine cat for something so important that was so exciting to him.

As Brambleclaw followed Cinderpelt and Rainwhisker out of the camp, he glanced over his shoulder. Squirrelflight was talking excitedly to Leafpaw. He felt a tinge of jealousy at the closeness of their bond, and the relationship he would most likely not be able to have with his own siblings.

But he would always watch over them, no matter what.

*  *  *  *  *

“Darkkit is the new deputy of BoulderClan.”

Crowfeather returned from his border patrol and padded over to see what was going on. The three kits were playing some kind of game. Harekit was standing on a small rock where he could look out over Darkkit and Kestrelkit.

“What are you three doing?” Crowfeather asked curiously.

Darkkit looked up at him broke into a purr. “Crowfeather, you’re back!”

“I wasn’t gone that long,” he pointed out. “It was just a border patrol.”

“Yeah, well, we were helping Barkface sort herbs, and Onewhisker started growling at us, again. It’s like he wants to drive us out of camp,” Kestrelkit replied.

Crowfeather narrowed his eyes. “And you weren’t making a mess and scattering Barkface’s supplies?” he checked.

Harekit shook his head emphatically. “We were being really good. You can ask Barkface. Anyway, after Onewhisker made us leave, Briarnose told us to play over here so we’re out of his way.”

“I’m going to rip his pelt off,” Crowfeather muttered under his breath. Louder, he asked, “So what were you playing?”

“We’re playing Clan!” Darkkit exclaimed. “Kestrelkit is medicine cat, Harekit is leader, and I’m deputy!”

“I see. There’s just one thing you’re missing,” Crowfeather noted.

The kits stared at him, their heads tilted in confusion. “What’s that?”

“A warrior!” he purred. “Every Clan needs at least one warrior.”

They mewed in excitement. Harekit raised his head and meowed, “We welcome you as a warrior of BoulderClan.”

“Crowfeather!” “Crowfeather!” Kestrelkit and Darkkit purred.

He licked Harekit’s shoulder. “Thank you for this great honor.”

Harekit’s eyes lit up. “For your first task as warrior, you must go investigate the intruder in the camp.”

Crowfeather turned to see Leafpaw entering the camp with Webfoot, Weaselpaw, and Mudclaw. Ashfoot was sitting under a bush in the center of camp, sharing a tough-looking rabbit with Nightcloud.

“It appears we have a visitor,” Mudclaw announced.

Sensing the kits’ excitement, and not wanting them to get involved, as a precaution, Crowfeather whispered, “You three stay here. I’ll go check it out.”

He crept over to where Mudclaw and Ashfoot were standing to face Leafpaw. “What can we do for you?” Mudclaw asked.

“I need to speak to Barkface,” she mewed.

Mudclaw pricked his ears. “A message from StarClan?” he guessed.

Leafpaw nodded.

“That’s great news!” Ashfoot’s eyes shone. “Weaselpaw, go and ask Barkface to come right away.”

Webfoot’s apprentice disappeared down a tunnel at the foot of the slope. Crowfeather knew the tunnel had the scents of both rabbit and badger, indicating that it could have home to one of the creatures at some other point in time. Weaselpaw reappeared a moment later with the medicine cat behind him.

Leafpaw bounded over to him. Barkface dismissed the apprentice with a flick of his tail and beckoned Leafpaw to sit beside him. “What’s all this?” he asked, as Crowfeather tried to stay out of sight.

The excitement Crowfeather had noticed in Leafpaw seemed to bubble over, like water tumbling over the falls in the gorge. “The place StarClan intends for us to meet is the Moonpool. It’s at the end of the stream and it’s past our territories. And tomorrow is the is the half moon,” she finished. “Cinderpelt has gone to tell Mothwing and Littlecloud, so we can all go to the Moonpool together.”

Barkface stretched forward and rested his muzzle against the tip of Leafpaw’s ear. “This is the best news I’ve ever heard,” he murmured. “Thank you for bringing it to me.” He heaved himself up and padded over to Mudclaw and Ashfoot. Others had joined them, guessing there was an important announcement coming.

Quickly Barkface told them about Leafpaw’s journey. “Tomorrow night all the medicine cats will meet at the Moonpool,” he meowed. “The night after that, Mudclaw, you and I will go together so that you can receive your nine lives and your leader’s name.”

Mudclaw blinked and shook his head. “From what Leafpaw tells us, it’s a long journey,” he mewed. “You can’t travel there twice in two days; you’ll be exhausted. I’ve waited this long, I can wait awhile longer.”

Crowfeather was impressed at his former mentor’s thoughtfulness. If there was one thing Mudclaw was always prepared to do, it was watching out for all of his Clanmates, even if it made things more uncomfortable or difficult for himself.

Barkface seemed content to leave some time between his visits to the Moonpool, because he didn’t try to change Onewhisker’s mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow at sunset, Leafpaw,” he meowed.

“I’ll tell Cinderpelt,” she replied. “We can meet by the stream at the edge of the trees.”

Barkface nodded. “Go well,” he murmured, before heading back to his den.

Mudclaw and Ashfoot began talking quietly together. Onewhisker glared darkly at Leafpaw before racing for the top of the hollow, disappearing over it in a couple of heartbeats.

He padded over to Leafpaw and touched her shoulder lightly. She turned, clearly startled.

“Have you really found a place to speak with StarClan?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, really.” She swallowed. “There’s something I have to tell you, Crowfeather. Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?”

“Come over here.” He led her to the edge of the hollow and sat down under a stunted tree with leafless, twisted branches. He looked expectantly at Leafpaw with his head to one side.

She took a deep breath. “I didn’t just dream of the Moonpool last night. I received a message from Deadfoot as well.”

He felt his eyes widen. “My father?”

“Yes. He wanted me to give you a message. He said that he is very proud of you. You have shown greater courage and strength than most cats ever will, and he knows he made the right choice.”

Crowfeather stared at her. “He told you that?”

“He also said that he’s proud of how you’ve taken in Darkkit, but that Darkkit is in great danger.”

“Danger? What do mean?” Realization flooded Crowfeather. “Oh no! You have to go!” he ordered.

He whipped around and pelted back towards the kits, just in time to see Onewhisker explode from the bushes. The other warrior lunged straight for Darkkit, claws extended and gleaming in the sunlight.

“Nooo!” Crowfeather yowled, throwing himself at Onewhisker.

He hit the other cat squarely in the side, throwing him away from the kits. Onewhisker landed with a thump on the ground, rolling a couple times before scrambling to his paws.

Crowfeather glared at him, eyes blazing with fury. Onewhisker sneered at him, his lips curled back in a snarl. Without saying a word, the two cats began circling each other, while the kits crouched beneath a bush.

Onewhisker moved first. He dove at Crowfeather, aiming a blow at his ears. Crowfeather ducked, thrusting him away with his hindlegs. Behind Crowfeather, Mudclaw stalked over, Ashfoot and Tornear beside him, but the other warriors didn’t attack. Mudclaw gave him a nod, the meaning clear: this was Crowfeather’s fight. The others would only interfere if he needed it.

Crowfeather swiped at Onewhisker’s nose, his claws piercing it and drawing a spray of blood. Onewhisker growled and ducked down, biting into Crowfeather’s foreleg. Furious, Crowfeather yanked his foreleg closer, dragging Onewhisker with it, and headbutted him. Onewhisker stumbled back, dazed.

Seizing his advantage, Crowfeather darted around and bit Onewhisker’s tail, scoring his claws against Onewhisker’s hind in the process. Onewhisker screeched and swung a forepaw at Crowfeather’s face, narrowly missing his eye. Still gripping Onewhisker’s tail, Crowfeather jerked his head backwards, hearing a sharp crack as he did.

Before he could do anything else, Onewhisker whipped around and slashed his claws at Crowfeather’s throat. Crowfeather dodged and the attack hit his shoulder instead. He let out a yowl of pain.

Eager to finish the fight, Onewhisker reared, but Crowfeather darted forward and knocked his hindlegs out from under him. Unbalanced, Onewhisker fell heavily on his side, and Crowfeather pinned him to the ground.

“How dare you attack a kit!” he hissed in fury. “Your own son!”

“He is not my son!” Onewhisker screeched. “How many more times will I have to say it?”

Mudclaw stepped forward, mingled horror and anger in his eyes. “You won’t have to say it here, anymore,” he announced. “Onewhisker, you have broken the warrior code and attempted to kill a kit. What’s more, you also tried to kill a fellow warrior. As leader of WindClan, I hereby exile you from this Clan.”

Onewhisker stared at him. “You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can,” Mudclaw meowed firmly. “As I said, you have broken the warrior code, and there is no longer any place for you in this Clan. Nightcloud, Snowflight,” he nodded to the two messengers, “escort this traitor from our territory. I want him gone, now.”

They dipped their heads in acknowledgement and ran over to where Crowfeather still had Onewhisker pinned to the ground. He let the other cat up, and they flanked Onewhisker, whose tail dangled limply, on either side, driving him forward with angry swipes at his haunches.

Once they had left the camp, Mudclaw turned to the others. “Tornear, Hailpelt, follow them. Make sure Onewhisker doesn’t try anything. Crowfeather, go have Barkface look at your injuries. And from this moment on, any cat who sees Onewhisker on WindClan territory is to drive him off. He is not welcome here.”

Crowfeather limped towards Barkface’s den, feeling a burning sensation in his shoulder. Owlpaw came over to help him, allowing him to lean against his shoulder.

Barkface was waiting for them. “I never thought I’d see the day Onewhisker truly betrayed his Clan.”

“This is not his Clan anymore,” Owlpaw reminded him. “He made his choice, and now he’s paying for it. I hope we never see him again.”

Owlpaw’s words filled Crowfeather with apprehension. As he watched the kits hesitantly creep out of the bush, Briarnose wrapping her tail around them and covering them with comforting licks, he worried that this was just the beginning.

Onewhisker wasn’t the only cat to hate a kit in his Clan. Blackclaw had made it clear that he already hated the kits Hawkfrost and Ivytail were having, and he suspected that if Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw had kits, they would be in danger as well. And with Onewhisker now roaming freely, the kits would need to be watched over even more.

Chapter Text

The half moon floated high above them, shedding soft gray light over the slope beside the rushing stream. The five medicine cats toiled up the last few tail-lengths that led to the barrier of thornbushes. Cinderpelt looked exhausted, her eyes glazed and her pace increasingly uneven, but she seemed determined to keep going. Mothwing hardly seemed tired by the journey at all. Right from the start she had bounded ahead and doubled back to check which way to go next, as if she couldn’t wait to reach the place where she would share tongues with StarClan. Leafpaw was happy to see her friend so eager–Mothwing was loyal and kindhearted, and she cared so much about the Clans.

Leafpaw showed them the narrow gap that led through the barrier of thorns, and at last they stood at the top of the hollow, gazing at the Moonpool. The water shone with the same pale light she remembered from before, while the stream tumbled from the crack in the rock glittered with starshine. Its gentle splashing into the pool was the only sound.

“Yes, this is the place,” Barkface murmured.

He gestured with his tail for Leafpaw to lead the way down the path, and once again she felt her paws slipping into the paw prints made by those cats of long ago.

“You were right,” Cinderpelt meowed to Mothwing. “It wasn’t a Moonstone we needed to find but the Moonpool. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Mothwing sighed. “It’s all right. I always knew that it would be difficult to prove myself because of who my parents were.”

“No, it’s not all right,” Littlecloud said at once. “You are one of us, and we should have trusted you. I apologize for my doubts as well, and I trust you completely.”

“StarClan has given you a keen insight that will serve you well as a medicine cat. You have my apology and trust too,” Barkface added.

Leafpaw pressed against her friend. “I never doubted you,” she promised.

The cats padded down the slope and gathered around the Moonpool. “I wonder how we’re supposed to share tongues with StarClan?” Littlecloud asked.

Leafpaw blinked. She hadn’t thought of that. Back at Mothermouth, cats used to lie with their noses touching the Moonstone; she remembered the icy chill that would creep through her fur, pulling her into a deep sleep where she could meet with StarClan.

She looked around, searching for something lit up by StarClan, as radiant as the Moonstone had been. There was nothing to see but the moss-covered rocks and trailing ferns–and the starlit surface of the pool. “Maybe we should touch the water?” she suggested.

“Or drink it!” Mothwing put in.

The older medicine cats glanced at one another. “It’s worth a try,” Barkface agreed.

Shivering, Leafpaw crept forward and lapped a few drops of water. It was icy cold, and tasted of stars and the wind and the indigo sky. She closed her eyes, breathing the scents as they flooded her mouth.

A chill spread from her ears to the tip of her tail, and she could no longer feel the stone beneath her paws. Instead, she was floating in a black void, where everything was dark and silent. There were voices, too faint and shrill at first to hear what they were saying. Then the sound of wind and splashing water died away, and she realized they were calling her name.

“I’m here,” she whispered.

She opened her eyes. A faintly lit cavern lay in front of, with water rushing by into the darkness. She was back in the cave!

Above her, the crack that lit the cave widened abruptly, and shadowy figures fell to the cave floor. Moving closer, Leafpaw realized that they were cats, familiar ones. Squirrelflight landed first, with two kits coming to rest on top of her. A heartbeat later, Firestar landed as well. Leafpaw watched as Squirrelflight stirred, dazed, but fine, along with the two kits. Firestar, meanwhile, fell still and silent, clearly losing a life.

“So you’ve been sent to see what will happen,” a familiar voice called.

Leafpaw spun around to see Cinderpelt standing behind her, stars lighting her fur. “What is going on here?” she asked her mentor.

Cinderpelt gave her a saddened expression. “Terrible things are about to happen,” she announced, her voice ominous. “But you mustn’t lose faith. When this comes to pass, know that you haven’t lost these cats forever. They will return to you after a moon has passed. But you must help Brackenfur lead ThunderClan through this darkness.”

“I don’t understand,” Leafpaw protested. Bending closer to Squirrelflight, she saw that her sister looked different, as if she were a moon away from having kits. “Why won’t you be able to help him?”

“I am needed here,” Cinderpelt murmured. “There are things that are necessary if the Clans are to survive, and I know that StarClan will guide you through this.”

“But you won’t be there to guide me?”

Cinderpelt shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “But you are brave and strong, and I know that you have everything you need.” She pressed her muzzle to Leafpaw’s. “And no matter how bad things may seem, even in the shadows, stars can shine.”

Cinderpelt’s familiar scent faded away, along with the dim cave, and Leafpaw awakened with a gasp. She was on the edge of the Moonpool again, her belly pressed flat against the cold stone, and beside her lay the other medicine cats. They were stirring and stretching, waking from their own dreams. The moon was dipping below the hilltop; Leafpaw’s legs, which should have been stiff from crouching so long in one position, felt like she had truly been walking around that cave.

Barkface and Littlecloud both looked very troubled; Leafpaw wondered what kind of warnings they had received. Cinderpelt was studying her with concern, while Mothwing looked anxious to get back to RiverClan.

Leafpaw guessed that they would set out for their camps at once. She wanted to talk to Cinderpelt alone, wary of announcing her vision to the other medicine cats. But instead of leading the way back up the path, Cinderpelt sat down again on the edge of the Moonpool.

“Before we go back to our Clans,” she began, “I have one more task to do.” She waited until the other cats were sitting too, their faces turned attentively to her.

Leafpaw wondered what this was all about, since Cinderpelt hadn’t said anything to her on the way. Mothwing shot her a worried glance, and Leafpaw replied with a tiny shake of her head; Mothwing’s previous lack of faith was something she would never reveal to Cinderpelt or any cat.

“Clan warriors receive their warrior name when their mentor thinks they are ready,” Cinderpelt continued. “It is the same for medicine cats.” With a glint in her eyes, she turned to Leafpaw and asked, “Did you think you would have to wait for me to die before you received your name?”

Leafpaw was so taken aback she didn’t reply. She hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe she had assumed that, yes. But being an apprentice medicine cat was different from being an apprentice warrior; Leafpaw could use healing herbs and share tongues with StarClan just as much as the other medicine cats. A pulse of excitement went through her as she guessed what might be coming next.

“A medicine cat receives her name when StarClan decides she deserves it,” Cinderpelt meowed. “Leafpaw, the fact that our ancestors sent you the message about the island and brought you to the Moonpool first shows how highly they regard you.”

“That’s true,” Barkface rumbled.

Littlecloud let out a purr of agreement; Mothwing’s eyes were bright and she leaped up to press her muzzle against Leafpaw’s side. In the midst of her excitement, Leafpaw realized it was a good thing Mothwing already had her full name; who would have named her without her mentor there?

“Come forward.” Cinderpelt beckoned to Leafpaw with her tail.

Leafpaw hardly knew which paw to move first as she stumbled around the Moonpool until she stood in front of her mentor.

Cinderpelt tipped back her head and gazed at Silverpelt. “I, Cinderpelt, medicine cat of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the way of a medicine cat, and with your help, she will serve her Clan for many moons.”

The words were familiar to Leafpaw from the warrior ceremonies she had seen for her Clanmates. Her paws tingled, as if starlight scorched her fur.

“Leafpaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between Clan and Clan, and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Leafpaw, from this moment, you will be known as Leafpool. StarClan honors your courage and your faith. By finding this place, you have proved this is truly our new home.”

Just as a Clan leader would do at a warrior ceremony, Cinderpelt rested her muzzle on Leafpool’s head. Her mind full of stars, Leafpool bent to lick her mentor’s shoulder.

“Leafpool! Leafpool!” Mothwing called, and Barkface and Littlecloud joined in.

Leafpool bowed her head. “Thank you–all of you. My paws have been guided by StarClan in everything I have done, and I hope they will continue to guide me for the rest of my life.” Remembering her dream, Leafpool hoped desperately that her words would come true.

“May StarClan grant that it is so,” murmured Barkface, and the others echoed his prayer.

Mothwing’s voice was loudest, and when Leafpool looked at her, the RiverClan cat’s face was filled with pride and affection.

As she followed the other cats out of the hollow and down the rocky slope, Leafpool felt so full of energy, so committed all over again tot he way of a medicine cat, that she half thought she would be able to fly back to the hollow in the woods if she tried. She let the others go ahead, and padded along with her thoughts full of starlight and herbs and water that tasted of the night sky.

Then Cinderpelt dropped back to join her and she was thrown back into the cave, watching Firestar begin to breathe again.

“We both saw something terrible tonight,” Cinderpelt mused, interrupting Leafpool’s darkened thoughts. “I won’t ask what it was that you saw, but know that I am here for you if you need it.”

Leafpool dipped her head. “Thank you. I’m not entirely sure what I saw.” That was a lie. She was relatively certain about what she had been shown, though she didn’t know when she had seen. “All I know is that darkness is coming.”

Cinderpelt seemed to sense that Leafpool wasn’t ready to talk, and they continued on in silence.

By the time they returned to the camp, the darkness was starting to fade. Squirrelflight was waiting for them at the path into the hollow, and when she saw them she ran forward and pressed her muzzle against Leafpool’s, intensity in her gaze.

“What happened to you?” she demanded. “And don’t say nothing: I felt that you were gone!”

“I wasn’t gone,” Leafpool sighed. “I was in the future.”

“The future?” Squirrelflight echoed in shock. Cinderpelt watched with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, the future,” Leafpool confirmed. “I was in some kind of cave. I’m not sure how I got there, but I do know that things are about to get dark for all the Clans. And we will need all the help StarClan can give us if we will get through this.”