Hawkwing’s Journey

Chapter 33

Hawkwing sat on a rock overlooking a shallow stream bubbling over stones, and surveyed his Clan’s temporary camp. A moon and a half had passed since they left the lake, and though they thought they were going in the direction they had seen Echosong take when she left, they had seen no sign of her or the cats who went with her.

Every cat was weary of traveling, growing thinner as the weather became colder and prey scarcer. Finally Leafstar had decided to camp here, where the ground had fallen away into rocky hollows that offered at least a little shelter. But the landscape that surrounded them was bleak, with only a few wind-twisted trees; Hawkwing’s heart sank right down to his paws at the thought of being caught here by leaf-bare.

Wind buffeted his fur as he sat on watch and let his mind travel back to the beginning of their new journey, just after Leafstar had made him deputy. The Clan had sheltered for the night in a copse on the side of a hill, where wind rustled the branches of the trees and sent clouds scudding across the sky. Unable to sleep, Hawkwing had padded out of his makeshift den and crouched among the roots of an oak tree, watching the sky. Soon, Leafstar had slipped through the shadows to join him.

“What convinced me to make you deputy,” the Clan leader had meowed, “wasn’t anything to do with what happened in the Twolegplace. It was remembering when you were brave enough to tell me that you thought we should leave the lake. That showed me that you have grown, and learned to put the needs of your Clan above your own.”

Hawkwing had been flattered that Leafstar thought so, but privately he wasn’t sure that he agreed. He still felt that he didn’t deserve to be deputy. He had begun to grow used to his duties, though he found it strange to have his Clanmates defer to him and see the look of respect in their eyes. “I’ll do my best, Leafstar,” he had promised. “But if Waspwhisker should come back to us, I’ll step down.”

“That’s in the paws of StarClan,” Leafstar had murmured, though Hawkwing could tell that she had no hope of the former deputy returning.

Now he faced his secret fears that there wouldn’t be a Clan for much longer. They had wandered through woodland, across open ground, keeping well clear of Twolegplaces, and if Leafstar had a purpose in the path she chose, Hawkwing didn’t know what it was. Now that they had no medicine cat, they had no visions from StarClan to guide them. All they had was blind faith, and the hope of finding either Echosong or the lake she had dreamed of, where the Clan cats lived.

We could be traveling in entirely the wrong direction, Hawkwing thought despairingly. And how many more cats can we lose before SkyClan is gone forever? Will Twolegs take more of us, like they took Waspwhisker and the others?

Hawkwing was distracted from these dark thoughts by the appearance of M acgyver, who emerged from under a rocky overhang where he had made his den.

There isn’t even room here to make a proper warriors’ den we can all share, Hawkwing thought. We have to split up. That’s not right for a Clan camp.

M acgyver padded over to Hawkwing, swaying a little on his paws.

“I’m hungry,” he announced. “I’m going hunting.”

Hawkwing gave a disapproving twitch of his whiskers. “The hunting patrols have already gone out,” he mewed. “You said you were a bit tired, so I told you to get some rest.”

“Well, I feel better now,” M acgyver told him. “And I’m starving! So I’m going hunting.”

Hawkwing leaped down from his rock and leaned in closer to the black-and-white tom. “Are you okay?” he asked.

M acgyver looked up at him, his eyes strangely blurred. “Never better,” he muttered, and folded up to collapse at Hawkwing’s paws.

“M acgyver!” Hawkwing gasped, appalled. He bent over his Clanmate, prodding him in a desperate attempt to rouse him.

M acgyver only grunted, but at least that proved he was still alive.

Instinctively Hawkwing looked around for a medicine cat, but he realized in frustration that SkyClan didn’t have one anymore.

He raised his voice in a yowl. “Leafstar!”

“Tansy is for fever, I think,” Hawkwing mewed uncertainly.

“No, it’s borage,” Firefern argued. “And there’s a clump of it right there.” She pointed upward with her tail to where plants tumbled from the lip of the bluff above the rocky hollow.

Two sunrises had passed since M acgyver had collapsed, and since then Blossomheart and Rileypool had succumbed to the same mysterious illness. All three cats lay together in a nest of moss and dried grass, curled up and seemingly unaware of anything that went on around them. Their pelts gave off a dry heat, though they still shivered with cold, even huddled together for warmth in thick bedding.

Hawkwing fluffed up his pelt against the stiff breeze that probed into it with claws of cold. The sky was gray, the bulging clouds getting ready to release their rain. Leaf-bare is almost on us, he thought, and that’s only going to make it harder for any cat who falls ill.

“Even if you’re right, it’s not just fever,” Hawkwing pointed out to Firefern. “They have bellyache as well, and you need juniper or watermint for that.”

“Well, we don’t have any juniper or watermint!” Firefern snapped. “And we do have borage.”

“And what good will that do, if it’s the wrong herb?”

Hawkwing felt the heat of anger spreading through his pelt.

“Firefern, are you completely mouse-brained?”

The ginger she-cat stared at him, shocked into silence.

Hawkwing instantly realized how unfair he was being, to take his frustration out on a cat who was only trying to help.

“I’m sorry,” he meowed, feeling close to his breaking point.

What right have I to tell Firefern she’s wrong when I haven’t the faintest idea which are the right herbs? We’re all just guessing. It’s hopeless, when we don’t have a medicine cat.

“It’s okay, Hawkwing,” Firefern responded. “I know how you feel. And look—even if the borage doesn’t help, it can’t do any harm, right? I’m going to fetch some.”

While Firefern leaped nimbly up the rocks, Hawkwing gazed down at the three sick cats. Though M acgyver had been the first to get sick, Rileypool seemed to be the weakest; unconscious most of the time, and finding it difficult to eat even if some cat chewed his food up for him.

Hawkwing could hardly bear to look at Blossomheart, his bright, brave sister, lying there so limp and still. Oh, StarClan, after all the cats I’ve lost, I can’t lose the only littermate I have left!

Firefern returned clutching some stems of borage in her jaws and started chewing them to a pulp. “If only we knew what this illness is,” she mumbled around a mouthful.

“Well, M acgyver admitted he was so hungry he ate some crow-food,” Hawkwing mused. “That might have caused it. And the others caught whatever it is from him, I guess. But that doesn’t help.”

“No,” Firefern agreed. “The only thing that will help is to find Echosong.”

She prodded M acgyver to rouse him and began pushing some of the pulped borage into his mouth. M acgyver lapped at it, muttered something inaudible, and lapsed back into unconsciousness.

“Hawkwing!” A cry sounded from across the camp.

Hawkwing whipped around to see Plumwillow heading toward him, supporting Finkit, who tottered along beside her on uncertain paws. Sagenose was helping to steady him on the other side; Dewkit and Reedkit followed, their eyes wide and scared.

“Finkit has the sickness!” Plumwillow wailed.

Hawkwing felt as if a dark fog had descended on him, blotting out the last traces of light and hope. The fear and tension that he felt were like claws in his belly, tearing him apart. Not Finkit!

“He was so good yesterday, soaking moss and fetching it so the sick cats could drink,” Plumwillow went on as she and Finkit reached Hawkwing’s side. “But I should have kept him away from them!”

“Every cat needs to keep away from them.” Firefern looked up from treating the other patients. “Except for you and me, Hawkwing. We’d better make that a rule. Come on, Finkit,” she added, “eat some of this nice borage.”

“M y belly aches,” Finkit whimpered, but he bent his head and ate the borage without protesting.

Firefern nudged him into the nest with the others, and Blossomheart stirred slightly, wrapped her tail around him, and drew him closer.

“I’ll stay and look after him,” Plumwillow mewed.

Hawkwing stepped forward to block her with his tail. “No,” he told her forcefully. “You have to take care of your other kits.”

Plumwillow stared down at Finkit, then glanced over her shoulder at Reedkit and Dewkit. The anguish in her eyes told

Hawkwing how she was torn between them.

“Reedkit and Dewkit need you,” he meowed gently. “I’ll do the best I can for Finkit. You do trust me, don’t you, Plumwillow?”

Plumwillow locked her gaze with his for a heartbeat, then dipped her head. “Yes, I do,” she whispered. “But, oh, Hawkwing, you have to save him!”

Hawkwing wished he could promise her that Finkit would live, but he couldn’t lie to her. They didn’t know what the sickness was, and that made it nearly impossible to cure. He could see gratitude and grief in Plumwillow’s eyes as she turned away, gathered her other kits closer with a sweep of her tail, and headed back to the crevice in the rocks where she had set up her nursery.

I can’t promise anything. But I’ll do everything I possibly can to save Finkit!

Hawkwing watched Plumwillow go, then spotted movement downstream: Leafstar was returning at the head of the hunting patrol that had gone out earlier. Their paw steps listless, their tails drooping with discouragement, the cats carried their prey over to the fresh-kill pile.

Such meager pickings! Hawkwing thought. That’ll never keep the Clan alive.

Leafstar paused for a moment, gazing down regretfully at the scanty pile, then seemed to gather herself and padded over to the nest where the sick cats lay.

“How are they—” she began, then broke off as she saw that Finkit had joined them. “Oh, no. Where is it all going to end?”

“We’re doing the best we can,” Firefern mewed.

Sagenose, who had stood by in silence all this time, turned to gaze at the ginger she-cat; Hawkwing thought his eyes looked blank and dead. “You know you’re likely to catch it, right?”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Firefern snapped.

“Every cat knows it,” Sagenose meowed. “The more you treat the sick cats and get close to them, the more likely you are to get sick too.”

“That may be true,” Hawkwing responded, remembering what had happened to Finkit. He was nettled by his Clanmate’s defeatist tone, though he reminded himself that Sagenose had lost his mate and his remaining kits by the lake. I know how terrible that must have been. “But medicine cats always treat the sick, no matter what they’re risking,” he finished.

Sagenose turned that blank, stone-cold stare on Hawkwing.

“Right. But you and Firefern aren’t medicine cats. None of us are.

If we were, we might have some chance of curing the sick cats.

Instead, we’ll probably all get it, eventually.”

Leafstar’s shoulder fur had begun to bristle as Sagenose spoke.

“What are you saying?” she demanded with a lash of her tail.

“I’m just pointing out that we have a choice here,” Sagenose retorted.

“And what is that choice?” Leafstar hissed.

“We could split up,” Sagenose replied. “Or send a group of cats to find Echosong.”

Leafstar’s lips drew back in the beginning of a snarl. “And just where do you suggest we do that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Sagenose admitted. “But a group of healthy cats moving around would have a better chance than we will if we just sit here waiting to die.”

Leafstar’s anger faded and her eyes were full of pain as she gazed at Hawkwing. “No,” she meowed. “We will stay together.

There are so few of us now. And isn’t this what defines a Clan: that they stay together, even when things are hard? We have to believe that things will get better. We have to believe we will survive this. We have no choice, Sagenose!”

With that, she turned and stalked away. His gaze following her, Hawkwing tried not to let his misgivings show, for the sake of his Clan. But he couldn’t be sure that they would survive this new challenge.

Two sunrises later, gazing down at the nest where the sick cats lay, Hawkwing was even less certain. True to Sagenose’s prediction, Firefern too had fallen ill, the disease attacking her so fiercely that her paw steps were already leading her toward StarClan.

She exhausted herself helping the others, Hawkwing thought, and now she hasn’t the strength to fight the sickness.

The other sick cats were no better. Rileypool seemed barely alive; Hawkwing had to watch carefully to see the faint rising and falling of his chest. He couldn’t eat anymore, or even lap at soaked moss for a drink.

“Come on, Finkit,” Hawkwing murmured encouragingly.

“Look, I’ve some lovely mouse for you.”

To his relief, the kit began licking at the mouse. Still keeping an eye on him, Hawkwing began to treat the others with borage, chewing up the leaves into a pulp and crouching beside each of his sick Clanmates until they licked it up. As he finished, he realized that Leafstar was standing beside him, looking down at the nest despairingly. She bent her head and touched her nose to Firefern’s shoulder. “Oh, my daughter… ,” she whispered. Then she straightened up and gave her pelt a shake. “I’ve been thinking about what Sagenose said,” she began. “I hate to consider dividing the Clan, but I can’t deny it any longer—we could all die of the sickness if we stay here together. The best chance we have is to split off some healthy cats to go look for Echosong.”

“But what will happen to them?” Hawkwing asked, angling his ears toward the sick cats.

“I will stay with them,” Leafstar replied, her voice full of love and sorrow. “They are my cats. I am sworn to protect them.”

Hawkwing stood silent for a moment, hardly able to believe that it had come to this, that his Clan leader was forced to make these terrible decisions, without even StarClan to guide her. It had been so long since their warrior ancestors had spoken to them, even before Echosong had left.

I don’t know whether I can bear to leave Blossomheart, or Finkit. He’s like my own kit.

“You must lead the rest of the Clan,” Leafstar continued, as if she knew what Hawkwing was thinking. “It’s the only chance

SkyClan has.”

“Then we’ll come back if we don’t find Echosong within three sunrises,” Hawkwing suggested.

Leafstar shook her head emphatically. “You can’t come back.

Not until you find Echosong.”

Hawkwing felt his throat burn as he had to accept his leader’s order—the decree that meant he might never see Finkit and Blossomheart again.

“You must help me convince the others,” Leafstar urged him.

“It’s SkyClan’s best chance of surviving. And when you agreed to be deputy, you agreed to put SkyClan first. That’s what we do, Hawkwing. It’s the sacrifice we make.”

Hawkwing dipped his head. “You’re right, Leafstar. I’ll do as you say.”

Leafstar leaped up onto a nearby rock and let out a yowl. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here for a Clan meeting.”

The cats of SkyClan began to creep into the open from cracks in the rock or tussocks of long grass where they had set up their makeshift dens. Pain gripped Hawkwing’s heart at the sight of them: their ribs showing beneath tattered pelts, their eyes dull with despair. Prey had been scarce ever since they’d left the lake, and they were exhausted from constant travel. Hawkwing could see every one of Sagenose’s ribs, while Tinycloud’s pelt looked as if she hadn’t groomed herself in a moon. Dewkit and Reedkit, who had once been strong and sturdy, looked so frail that a puff of wind could have blown them away.

Every cat gathered around Leafstar and waited in silence to hear what she would say.

“Cats of SkyClan,” the Clan leader began, “you all know how desperate our plight is. Our Clanmates will die unless we can find

Echosong, and if we stay here, sooner or later we will all catch the same sickness.”

“What?” Plumwillow let out a cry of disbelief, her burning gaze fixed on Leafstar. “You can’t mean you want the rest of us to leave our Clanmates?”

Leafstar returned Plumwillow’s gaze solemnly. She didn’t answer the warrior’s question, but Hawkwing heard Plumwillow gasp as the truth sank in.

“You expect me to leave my own kit?”

Before Leafstar could respond, Hawkwing’s ears pricked at the sound of a cat approaching.

Please, not an attack. StarClan, not now. The wind was blowing away from SkyClan, so there was no scent to tell him what might be approaching. He slid out his claws.

“Hello?” A familiar voice reached Hawkwing’s ears.

Oh, StarClan, I can’t believe it! I think I’ll die of relief!

Hawkwing felt his entire body go slack. His Clanmates too were stirring around him, looking for the source of the sound, sudden hope in their eyes.

A silver tabby she-cat stepped out from among the trees, with two other cats trailing behind her. Hawkwing let out a triumphant yowl of welcome. Oh, StarClan, thank you!

“Echosong!”