Code Of The Clans

A GATHERING OF ALL CLANS IS HELD AT

THE FULL MOON DURING A TRUCE THAT LASTS

FOR THE NIGHT. THERE SHALL BE NO FIGHTING

AMONG CLANS AT THIS TIME.

Even though the Gatherings started with the very beginning of the warrior code, the full-moon truce did not become part of the code until much later. Now the truce is respected by every cat, whether it is because they value the chance to exchange news in peace with their close neighbors, or because they are afraid of what their warrior ancestors might do if they break the code. Come with me to Fourtrees long ago, when the ancestors first looked down on the full-moon gathering and bound the Clan cats to the full-moon truce.

The Vanishing Moon

The four giant oaks cast thick shadows across the moon-washed clearing as Finchstar crouched at the top of the slope.

Behind him, his Clanmates waited, the air clouded with their breath. Several cats dotted the hollow already, circling to keep warm as they exchanged cautious greetings with warriors from rival Clans.

93

“Come on, ThunderClan!” Finchstar called. He stood up and began to run down the slope, stretching his tail up so his Clanmates could follow.

“Good,” muttered Daisyheart, his deputy, as she bounded beside him. “If I’d stayed still much longer I’d have turned into an icicle.”

Frost crackled under Finchstar’s paws as he jumped onto the flat stretch of grass. Two WindClan elders nodded to him and a

RiverClan warrior called a greeting as he wove his way through the cats to the Great Rock.

“How’s the prey running, Finchstar?” SkyClan’s leader, Hawkstar, asked as he leaped onto the top of the smooth silver boulder.

“Fast,” he replied. “It doesn’t like being out in this weather any more than we do!”

“Our rabbits run so quickly, they’re nothing but muscle and bone when we catch them,” Dovestar, the WindClan leader, put in. “So tough to chew!”

The RiverClan leader, Reedstar, said nothing. He was sitting on the far side of the rock, as far from Hawkstar as he could get without falling off. Their Clans had been at war over a strip of shoreline for almost three seasons; one battle had led to the death of SkyClan’s former leader, Dewstar, and his Clanmates were far from forgiving their rivals across the water.

Finchstar looked down at the clearing. “ShadowClan not here yet? It’s not like Ripplestar to be late.”

Dovestar lifted his haunches off the stone and settled down again with his tail curled up. “I’ll stick to this rock if we don’t start soon. It’s colder than ice.”

Reedstar shifted, sending his shadow flickering over the edge of the boulder, crisp in the moonlight. “Maybe the frost has delayed them?”

The tip of Hawkstar’s tail twitched. “Something’s wrong,” he murmured. “My pelt’s been itching all day.”

“Fleas,” muttered Reedstar.

Finchstar glared at him. It was full moon, the one night they were supposed to put their rivalry aside and share news for the good of all the Clans.

There was a hiss like wind at the edge of the clearing. Finchstar pricked his ears and stared into the moon shadows. Was that a branch waving in the breeze, or something more?

Why does Fourtrees suddenly feel unsafe?

“ShadowClan! Attack!”

The shadows exploded, spitting and yowling. The cats in the clearing whirled to face them, but before they could brace themselves, ShadowClan warriors fell on them, claws and fangs bared. Within a heartbeat, the hollow thrashed and rippled like a river full of salmon. The leaders of the Clans stood on the edge of Great Rock, staring down in horror. Then Reedstar leaped down, quickly followed by Hawkstar and Dovestar. Finchstar heard them screech orders to their senior warriors, splitting them into battle groups to defend the elders and apprentices who had come to the Gathering.

A ginger-and-white face flashed up at Finchstar from the turmoil at the foot of the rock.

“Help us, Finchstar!” Daisyheart wailed, before she whipped around to claw a ShadowClan warrior over his ears.

Finchstar bunched his haunches, ready to jump down, when a shadow fell across him. He looked up. Ripplestar stood beside him on the Great Rock, his yellow eyes glowing as they watched the battle.

95

“I bet you never thought I’d do it,” he meowed, so quietly Finchstar could hardly hear him over the screeches and yowls from below.

“Do what? Attack four Clans when they came in peace to a Gathering, with elders among them?” Finchstar hissed. “No, Ripplestar. I never thought you’d be as cowardly as that.”

The black-and-orange cat lashed his tail. “Hardly the actions of a coward, to take on all four Clans at once!”

Slipping his claws free, Finchstar sprang at Ripplestar, bringing him down on top of the rock with a muffled thud. The ShadowClan leader squirmed around until he was lying on his back, then raked Finchstar’s belly with his hind paws. Finchstar sank his claws deeper into the loose fur around Ripplestar’s neck, feeling the slender bones underneath.

“Call off your cats!” he spat. “This attack is wrong!”

Ripplestar scrabbled to his feet and glared at Finchstar. “I wouldn’t call an easy victory wrong,” he gloated. “Look at your precious cats now.”

Finchstar risked a sideways look. The battle was slowing; many cats were slumped on the silver grass, bleeding and motionless.

ShadowClan warriors paced among them, ready to lash out if any cat stirred.

“No!” Finchstar yowled. “You can’t do this!”

He jumped at Ripplestar but his hind paws skidded on the icy rock, and the ShadowClan leader stepped easily out of the way.

“So you keep telling me,” Ripplestar observed. “But I seem to have done it anyway! Looks like I don’t have to listen to you, Finchstar.”

For a heartbeat, the hollow glowed bright white, outlining every leaf, every blade of grass, every whisker. Then the air cracked, and the two cats on the rock flung themselves down, clinging to the stone as it trembled beneath them. Finchstar pressed his face into the cold surface and waited for the roll of thunder to fade away. A storm in leaf-bare? But there were no clouds. The moon was out…

“Finchstar!” His name was barely a whisper, drowned by another clap of thunder slamming into the forest.

Finchstar forced himself to lift his head. His eyes were still dazzled by the first flash of lightning and he had to blink to see clearly. The clearing was much darker than before, so dark he couldn’t see Ripplestar. The moon had vanished. The sky was covered with thick black clouds.

Finchstar shook his head, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He could make out the trees now and the shape of the Great Rock beneath him. But still no Ripplestar.

“Help… me…”

A scratching sound came from the edge of the rock. Finchstar saw Ripplestar’s yellow eyes staring over the top and his black-and-orange paws.

“Hold on!” Finchstar yowled. He hurled himself across the stone, reaching out with his front paws to grab Ripplestar’s scruff and haul him to safety.

He was a mouse-length away when the sky burst open again, filling the air with blazing white light and letting out a roar that sounded like every tree in the forest was falling at once. Finchstar crashed down onto the rock and pressed his paws into his ears, trying to block the explosion of noise that bounced around the hollow. He heard a thin, terrified wail as Ripplestar lost his grip and plunged to the ground.

The clearing was silent. The cats still on their paws were staring at something Finchstar couldn’t see, at the foot of Great

Rock. Then a heavily scarred gray warrior rushed forward.

97

“Ripplestar! No!”

Finchstar bowed his head. The ShadowClan leader must have been on his ninth life. He was young to die as a leader, but perhaps his battle-hungry career had used up the rest of his lives too quickly.

“Murderer!”

The gray warrior—Marshscar, the ShadowClan deputy, Finchstar suddenly realized—was glaring up at him.

“Come down here and let me avenge our leader’s death!”

Marshscar snarled.

“I didn’t kill Ripplestar!” Finchstar told him, feeling the fur rise along his spine.

“Then who did?” the gray cat challenged.

Finchstar looked up at the bubbling clouds that hid the full moon. The truce had been broken the moment Ripplestar told his warriors to attack the unsuspecting Clans. Then the moon disappeared and a storm came, bringing thunder and lightning that shook the forest to its roots.

“StarClan killed him,” Finchstar announced. His paws trembled. Would his warrior ancestors forgive him for accusing them of cold-blooded murder? But the sky stayed quiet.

“StarClan has punished ShadowClan for breaking the truce and attacking on the night of a full moon,” Finchstar went on.

“There is no clearer message they could send.”

A pale brown tabby from RiverClan stepped forward.

“StarClan, forgive us all for fighting!” he yowled.

“From now on, the full moon will be honored by every Clan!”

Dovestar called.

Finchstar stepped to the edge of the rock and raised his voice so every cat could hear him. There would be time afterward to tend to the wounded and carry them home. For now, he had to make sure this would never happen again.

“There will be a new rule in the warrior code!” he declared.

“There will be no fighting at the time of the new moon. The truce is sacred and will be protected for every Gathering.”

StarClan, forgive us.

-