Chapter 16

Clouds obscured the night sky as Leafpaw padded down the hard stone slope. A mild breeze promised that there would be no frost tonight, and she could smell rain. Most of the Clan was sleeping; ShadowClan was huddled near the edge of Sunningrocks, as far from the ThunderClan cats as they could be.

Exhaustion dragged at Leafpaw’s limbs, but her mind teemed with thoughts, memories of the day’s horrors mingled with uncertainties about the journey to come. Knowing she would not be able to sleep, she headed for the forest. Even in leaf-bare, its musty odor and the feeling of the earth beneath her paws soothed her.

As she neared the trees she heard Cody’s voice calling to her. “Leafpaw!” The kittypet was sheltering among some brittle fronds of bracken.

“Cody? What are you doing out here?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Cody scraped at the ground with her paw.

Leafpaw stared at her. “What?”

“I’m leaving,” Cody mewed simply. “I’m going home.”

Leafpaw fought back the urge to cry, No! Please stay! She stepped forward and touched her nose to Cody’s ear-tip.

“This is no life for me, all this death and blood and uncertainty,” Cody went on. “I am happy with my housefolk, and they’ll be missing me. I never meant to stay this long, but Birchkit needed me and I began to—”

“You began to enjoy the freedom,” Leafpaw interrupted, suddenly desperate to remind her new friend what she would be giving up if she went back to her Twolegs.

“I guess I did,” Cody admitted. “But today I saw just how fragile your freedom is. You have to fight for everything—for your food, even somewhere to shelter.” She shook her head apologetically. “I like to know where I will be sleeping every night, and that there will always be food when my belly grows empty. And I like my housefolk. Not all Twolegs are as bad as the ones destroying your home.”

“Would you like me to show you the way through the forest?” Leafpaw offered. “Firestar promised you an escort.”

Cody shook her head. “The woods seem quiet enough,” she mewed. “There won’t be any monsters about at night.

Anyway, you’ll need to rest for your journey.” She glanced back toward Sunningrocks. “Thank Firestar for me.”

Leafpaw pressed her nose sadly against her new friend’s cheek. Cody closed her eyes and sighed. Then she straightened up. “I’ve said good-bye to Birchkit. Ferncloud is eating properly again, and he’ll be fine with her now.”

“Thanks for taking care of me when we were in the Twoleg nest,” Leafpaw whispered. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. And I’ll keep an eye out for Graystripe,” Cody promised. “If I see him, I’ll tell him where you’ve gone and that his Clan is waiting for him.”

Leafpaw felt a warm tongue rasp her ear. “Bye, Leafpaw,” Cody murmured. “Good luck.”

“Good-bye, Cody.” With an aching heart, and half wishing she could have convinced Cody to stay, Leafpaw watched her friend vanish into the shadows of the forest.

A rustle in the bracken made her jump, and Sorreltail slipped out from the trees. “Has Cody gone home?”

“She said her Twolegs would be missing her,” Leafpaw explained.

“I heard.” Sorreltail nodded. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She braced herself for Sorreltail to make a sharp comment about how kittypets didn’t belong in the wild, but instead Sorreltail just blinked sympathetically.

“Let’s sleep out here tonight,” she suggested. “It is our last night in the forest, after all.”

The thought of never spending another night under these trees took Leafpaw’s breath away, and for a moment she wanted to lie down and bury her face in the leaf-mold and forget that all this was happening. How could they leave if they didn’t know where they were going? But she followed Sorreltail into the bracken, and together they flattened a patch into a nest big enough for the two of them. As she settled down, Leafpaw felt Sorreltail’s soft tail brush her nose.

“Your Clan is still here,” Sorreltail murmured.

“I know.” Leafpaw tried not to think of Cody hurrying home through the forest alone.

Before she closed her eyes, she looked up at the branches and gave thanks to StarClan for the shelter they had given ThunderClan in past moons. If only she could be sure there was a home as safe as this had once been waiting for them at the end of their journey.

Cold rain woke Leafpaw, spattering on her fur, and she opened her eyes to a watery, gray dawn. She stretched and shook the raindrops from her pelt. Her movement awoke Sorreltail.

“Brrr,” the tortoiseshell complained, hauling herself to her paws. “What a day for a journey!” She didn’t suggest that Firestar might delay leaving until the rain stopped. Leafpaw realized bleakly that all of the cats knew they could not stay in the forest a moment longer.

They left their sodden nest and padded to the bottom of Sunningrocks, where the two Clans were beginning to gather.

Tawnypelt was sharing tongues with a ShadowClan apprentice, stopping now and then to shake the rain from her ears.

“I wonder what it’s like for Tawnypelt, being back with ThunderClan?” Sorreltail whispered, following Leafpaw’s gaze.

“Strange, I guess,” she murmured.

“It’s going to be very wet underpaw.” Ashfur’s worried mew rose from the ThunderClan warriors and apprentices. The other cats looked anxiously at Brambleclaw, and Leafpaw knew it was not just the rain that was making their pelts bristle.

The whole Clan was nervous about the journey ahead.

“Mud or no mud, we will leave as soon as RiverClan comes,” Firestar insisted. “Can’t you hear the Twoleg monsters?”

Leafpaw listened, and sure enough, through the drum-ming of the rain, she heard monsters rumbling behind the trees. She had never heard them this close to Sunningrocks before, and the thought of them bearing down on their final refuge filled her with alarm.

“I want all warriors and apprentices to catch whatever they can before the journey,” Firestar meowed. “We’ll share whatever we find with ShadowClan.”

“ShadowClan will organize its own hunting patrols!”

Blackstar called across the rock.

Leafpaw saw her father’s face darken for a moment. “Very well. Our warriors will show you the best places to hunt.”

“We can find our own prey,” Blackstar growled.

Firestar curled his lip but said nothing. Instead he turned to Brambleclaw. The young warrior’s tail was twitching, and he kneaded the ground impatiently. “I want you to organize two hunting patrols, Brambleclaw, but don’t let any cat go near the Twolegs.”

“It sounds as if he’s talking to Graystripe!” Mousefur hissed in Leafpaw’s ear. “Why doesn’t he just name Brambleclaw deputy and be done with it?”

“Because that would be like admitting Graystripe is dead,” Dustpelt growled back, overhearing.

Firestar flicked the rain from his whiskers and turned to Cinderpelt. “Prepare traveling herbs for everyone,” he ordered.

“Will you have enough?”

“Oh, yes,” Cinderpelt answered. “I just hope that wherever we’re going has the plants I need to replenish my stocks.”

Leafpaw blinked. She hadn’t thought about that before.

Would their new home have marigold, yarrow, comfrey, and all the other precious plants she had learned to cure with?

Her paws trembled at the thought of having to look after the Clan without them, and she took a steadying breath before hurrying over to help mix the herbs they would need for the journey.

Brambleclaw led a hunting patrol into the dripping woods, and Mousefur followed with another. Blackstar watched them disappear into the forest before muttering something to his deputy, Russetfur; a moment later the dark ginger she-cat, her pelt plastered against her thin body, headed down the slope with several ShadowClan warriors.

Cinderpelt shook her head. “ShadowClan should have joined the ThunderClan patrols,” she murmured. “They’ll have no idea of the best places to hunt, and with prey so scarce they’ll need all the help they can get.”

“Why is Blackstar being so stubborn?” Leafpaw mewed.

“ShadowClan has always been proud.” Cinderpelt started to take supplies out of the cleft in the rock. “Now that they’ve been driven out of their home, pride is all they have left.”

“But surely it would be wiser to combine our strengths?”

Leafpaw protested. “We have a long, difficult journey ahead.”

“The boundaries between the Clans run deep,” Cinderpelt reminded her. “Traditions are all we have to cling to.”

“Then you agree with Blackstar?” Leafpaw asked in disbelief.

“Of course not, but I understand him,” Cinderpelt replied.

“Although it is frustrating,” she added. “I offered to check on their injured cats when I awoke, but Blackstar sent me away. He told me that ThunderClan had done enough for ShadowClan yesterday, and he didn’t intend to make his Clan’s debt any greater than it was.”

“How can he talk about debts?” Leafpaw exclaimed.

“Yesterday the four Clans faced the Twolegs together, and we were all as powerless as StarClan to stop them.”

“I know,” the medicine cat mewed. “But we’re not powerless to find a new future for ourselves, so let’s get on with mixing the traveling herbs. Every journey begins with a single pawstep, and this one is up to us.”

As the rain fell steadily, they began to combine the bitter herbs that would give the cats strength for the journey. Half-starved for so long, they needed this ancient mixture, handed down from medicine cat to apprentice for countless moons, more than ever before.

When the pile of herbs was complete, Leafpaw remembered she had not told her father about Cody. “Can you spare me for a while?” she asked.

“There’s nothing more we can do here,” Cinderpelt assured her. “I’ll check on Ferncloud.” She glanced at the nursery hollow.

Ferncloud was sitting on the edge of the hollow, washing Birchkit. The kit struggled resentfully—looking as normal as any kit ever had—as his mother rasped his ears with her rough tongue. The sight gave Leafpaw a rush of hope. She imagined Birchkit growing up and training to become a warrior in their new home, and a profound belief that ThunderClan would survive washed over her like sunshine. She quickly covered the traveling herbs with leaves to protect them from the rain and hurried up the slope toward her father.

He was staring across the treetops that stretched beyond Sunningrocks. He sat up straight, despite the pounding rain, with his tail curled over his paws and his ears pricked, scenting the air almost as though he welcomed the prospect of the journey ahead. It was hard to believe he had lost a life only yesterday.

When he heard Leafpaw calling him he turned his head.

“Yes?”

“I thought I should let you know Cody went back to her Twolegs last night.”

Firestar nodded.

“I had begun to hope she’d stay,” Leafpaw confessed.

“Now is no time for a stranger to join the Clan,” Firestar pointed out gently.

“But she was great with Birchkit!”

“That doesn’t make her a Clan cat,” he argued. “All the time she was with us, the scents of the forest never drew her from the safety of the camp. She fled here from the wooden nest because that danger was greater than the thought of living with us. I know what kittypets think of the cats who live in the forest. She’ll be happier with her housefolk.”

Leafpaw was surprised to hear her father use a kittypet word, and wondered if he was thinking of his early days with the Twolegs. Cody had not had time to talk with him about Smudge. Was he thinking of that kittypet friend now?

“You’ll miss her, won’t you?” he meowed unexpectedly.

“Yes, I will,” Leafpaw admitted. “She was a good friend.

But she knows we have to go away.” She stared down into the forest. “We’re leaving so many familiar things behind,” she murmured.

Her father’s eyes clouded with sorrow. “Yes. Like Graystripe.”

Leafpaw couldn’t think of anything to say that would comfort him. However much he wanted to believe that his deputy was still alive, it was still almost impossible that Graystripe could find his way back to them.

“I know we must go,” Firestar went on. “I want to leave as much as any cat, but I can’t bear the thought that I might never see him again.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Leafpaw mewed hopefully.

“Cody told me she’d look out for him and tell him where we’ve gone.”

A glimmer of hope sparked in Firestar’s eye, then disappeared. “How will he escape the Twolegs?” he asked bleakly. “And then find our new home…?”

“Are you going to name a new deputy?” she ventured.

“No!” Her father leaped up, and Leafpaw shrank back.

“There’s no need,” he went on quietly. “If there is even the smallest chance he’s alive, then Graystripe is still ThunderClan’s deputy.”

Before Leafpaw could say anything, mews sounded from behind them. The ThunderClan hunting patrols had returned and were carrying fresh-kill up the rock—birds and mice, not many, but enough to allow each cat a small meal.

ShadowClan’s hunting patrol returned shortly after. They had found only one thrush between them.

“Will you share our catch with them?” Leafpaw mewed to her father.

“Blackstar would be insulted by the offer,” Firestar replied.

“I suppose they can hunt while we travel,” Leafpaw suggested.

“Hopefully we all can. There must be more prey out there than here.” Firestar shook himself. “Go and get something to eat,” he ordered. “RiverClan will be here soon.”

“Okay.” Leafpaw hurried down to where Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw were sharing a chaffinch. They looked drenched, their pelts dark and sodden.

“Want some?” Squirrelpaw offered.

“Yes, please.” Leafpaw’s belly felt hollow, and the scent of fresh-kill made her mouth water. Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw sat back and let her take a bite.

“Do you want to give some to your sister?” Leafpaw asked Brambleclaw. The ShadowClan cats were laboriously passing their meager catch around; each cat took only a small mouthful before pushing it on to the next.

Brambleclaw shook his head. “I wouldn’t waste my time.”

Leafpaw was startled by the bitterness in his voice.

“We met Tawnypelt while we were out hunting, and Brambleclaw asked if she wanted to hunt with us,” Squirrelpaw explained. “She told us she was a ShadowClan warrior and would never hunt for another Clan.”

“I don’t know why she was so superior about it,” Brambleclaw growled. “It’s as if she’s forgotten that she was born a ThunderClan cat, or that we journeyed to the sun-drown-place together.”

“It must be difficult for her, being among ThunderClan again,” Leafpaw ventured. “She probably feels she has to prove her loyalty to ShadowClan more than ever.”

“Leafpaw’s right,” Squirrelpaw meowed. “Don’t take it personally, Brambleclaw. It wasn’t long ago that you were telling me that your first loyalty is to ThunderClan, not your kin. Allow Tawnypelt to have the same feelings for ShadowClan.”

“I suppose so,” Brambleclaw agreed grudgingly. “I just wanted to hunt with my sister again.” Leafpaw heard the sadness in his voice and thought how hard it must be having a littermate in another Clan. She glanced at Squirrelpaw, grateful that she and her sister shared the same home wherever it was.

“Leafpaw!” Cinderpelt was calling from the den. “Come and help me!”

Leafpaw bounded up the slope.

“Will you take these herbs to the queen and the elders?”

“What about Birchkit?”

“Just give him half a dose.”

Leafpaw glanced warily at Blackstar. “Are we sharing with ShadowClan?”

“We’ll have some left over,” Cinderpelt mewed, her eyes glittering. “I’ll offer them to Littlecloud and tell him we have no need for them. Blackstar can take them or leave them as he wants.”

Leafpaw admired her mentor’s kindheartedness as well as her craftiness; this was an offer Blackstar could accept without losing face. She picked up a bundle of herbs and carried it to Ferncloud. The she-cat accepted the bitter herbs gratefully, though Birchkit was not so thankful.

“It tastes like crow-food!” he complained.

“You’ve never eaten crow-food,” Ferncloud pointed out.

“Now just swallow it.”

Leafpaw purred with amusement and carried her bundle to where Frostfur, Longtail, and Speckletail lay, sheltered by the overhang.

As she put the herbs down, Frostfur shook her head. “Don’t waste those on us,” she murmured. “We’re not going with the Clan.”

Leafpaw blinked. “Not going! Why?”

Firestar trotted over. “What’s the matter?”

“Frostfur says they aren’t coming with us!”

“We’re too old to make such a journey,” Speckletail rasped.

“We’d only hold you back.”

Longtail flicked his tail. “And what use would I be? I can’t even see where I’m putting my paws!”

“The Clan would help you,” Firestar assured him gently.

He looked up at the elderly she-cats. “Just as they would help all of you.”

“We know they would,” Frostfur mewed. “But Speckletail and I are too old for so much change. We’d rather die here beneath Silverpelt, knowing StarClan waits for us.”

Leafpaw flinched. Surely StarClan would go wherever they did?

Firestar nodded gravely. “I cannot force you to come with us, Frostfur,” he murmured. “I know your paws are weary, Speckletail’s too, and you already hear StarClan whispering to you. But Longtail, I won’t leave you behind.” When the tabby warrior opened his mouth to argue, Firestar went on, “Yesterday you heard the WindClan cats coming before any other cat.

You may have lost your eyes, but your ears and your sense of smell are as good as any warrior’s. Please come with us.”

Longtail closed his sightless eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then he opened them again, and turned his face toward Firestar as if he were looking straight at him.

“Thank you,” he meowed. “I will come.”

Stormfur bounded up the rocks. “Firestar! There is a problem. RiverClan cannot leave today.”

Firestar’s ears twitched with alarm. “Why not?”

“Mudfur is dying. We can’t leave him alone.”

Frostfur stepped forward. “We’ll stay with him.”

“We can look after him until StarClan is ready to take him,” Speckletail agreed.

Stormfur looked them in surprise. “But he is not one of your Clan.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Frostfur told him. “We are staying behind anyway. We might as well do what we can for Mudfur.”

“The RiverClan camp is a lot more sheltered than this place,” Leafpaw mewed. “You will be safe from Twolegs if you keep within the reeds.”

“That’s true,” meowed Firestar. “We’ll bring Frostfur and Speckletail to the RiverClan camp, and if Leopardstar agrees, we’ll leave them with Mudfur while RiverClan joins us on our journey.”

“What’s happening?” Blackstar had approached the group.

“Mudfur is dying,” Firestar explained. “We must go to the RiverClan camp before we travel to WindClan’s territory.”

Blackstar curled his lip. “We’ll go ahead and wait for you at the edge of the forest.”

A croaking voice sounded behind him, and Leafpaw recognized Runningnose’s gray pelt. “I would like to say good-bye to Mudfur,” mewed the elderly cat. “I’ve known him since I was an apprentice.”

Blackstar looked at the old tom, and for the first time Leafpaw saw respect in his eyes. “Of course, Runningnose,” he meowed. “You go with ThunderClan. We’ll see you again at the edge of the forest.”

Firestar scanned the rock. “Has everyone had traveling herbs?”

“Yes,” Cinderpelt replied. “In fact, there are some left.

ShadowClan may as well have them. It’s not worth carrying them with us.” Her casual tone gave nothing away.

Leafpaw glanced at Littlecloud, whose tail twitched with excitement. “May we use them, Blackstar?” pleaded the young medicine cat.

“No point letting them go to waste,” Blackstar growled, and Littlecloud began handing out the bundles at once. The ShadowClan leader looked at Longtail, narrowing his eyes.

Leafpaw braced herself, expecting him to say that they couldn’t take a blind cat on such a long and dangerous journey.

But Blackstar only meowed, “The blind warrior can travel with us while you go to RiverClan. There’s no point taking him across the river and back again. I have warriors who can lead him through the forest.”

Firestar blinked gratefully at the ShadowClan leader.

“Thank you.” He touched Longtail with the tip of his tail. “Is that all right with you?”

Longtail nodded, and followed Blackstar down the slope to the waiting ShadowClan cats.

“Is every cat ready?” Firestar called to his own Clan.

Mews of assent sounded from across the rock, and the cats fell in behind Firestar as he led them down to the shore. The river was hardly more than a trickle, in spite of the ceaseless rain.

“Cinderpelt, Leafpaw, come with me,” Firestar ordered, halting beside the river. Runningnose, Frostfur, and Speckletail were already clambering after Stormfur, over the stepping-stones. “The rest of the Clan should wait here until we return.” He nodded at Brambleclaw, putting him in charge, and followed the elders across the river.

The reeds around the RiverClan camp were brown and brittle, their roots exposed. Leafpaw followed her father into the clearing and flinched as several cats spun around to look at the visitors with hostile surprise.

Leopardstar stood in the entrance to the medicine cats’ den, her eyes blazing. “What are you doing here? Didn’t Stormfur give you my message?”

“I did,” Stormfur meowed, hurrying to the center of the clearing. “But Firestar has come to suggest something.”

“Frostfur and Speckletail are staying behind,” Firestar explained. “They have offered to care for Mudfur.”

Leopardstar dipped her head. “That’s kind of them,” she meowed. “But it won’t be necessary. Mudfur is nearly with StarClan.”

Leafpaw jumped out of the way as Runningnose wheezed in shock and staggered toward the medicine clearing.

Cinderpelt followed, and Leafpaw padded quickly after them, glancing at the RiverClan leader as she went past. But Leopardstar let them go without a word.

Mothwing looked up as they entered the clearing. Her eyes were clouded with grief. “There’s nothing more any cat can do,” she told Cinderpelt. “He’s not in pain. I’ve made sure of that.”

Mudfur lay in the middle of the clearing. Rain dripped through the branches onto his matted flank, but he made no attempt to move into a more sheltered spot. Shadepelt, an elderly RiverClan she-cat, sat beside Mothwing, sadly watching the dying cat.

Runningnose padded forward and touched his nose to Mudfur’s shoulder. “Go swiftly to StarClan, my friend. We will look after your Clanmates.”

Cinderpelt leaned down and rested her muzzle on Mudfur’s pelt. As Leafpaw crouched to bury her nose in his fur, her throat filled with the unmistakeable scent of death.

Forcing herself not to draw away, she closed her eyes. At least you can be sure StarClan is waiting for you, she thought.

With a shuddering gasp, Mudfur drew his last desperate breath; his flank heaved once, then fell still forever as his spirit joined his warrior ancestors.

“He is with StarClan now,” Mothwing murmured.

Leafpaw blinked sadly at the unmoving heap of fur. This was one cat who would never see their new home, wherever it lay. How many more cats would not make it to the end of their journey?

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