Hawkwing’s Journey

Chapter 4

The dawn patrol had left some time before, and the red glow in the sky told Hawkwing that the sun had risen, though its rays had not yet cleared the top of the gorge. Shivering, he shook out his pelt and rose to his paws to arch his back in a long stretch. The night of his vigil was almost over.

His sister Blossomheart, a few tail-lengths away, had started to groom herself, licking one paw and passing it over her face. After a moment she paused, and parted her jaws in a massive yawn.

“I could sleep for a moon!” she whispered.

New warriors guarding the camp were not supposed to speak to each other, but on the night before, when they started their vigil, Hawkwing had been unable to resist murmuring a few words into his sister’s ear.

“I miss Duskpaw so much. I wish he could be keeping vigil with us.”

“I miss him too,” Blossomheart had responded. “He should be here.”

After that, there was nothing to do but keep watch for invaders. And since no invaders appeared, Hawkwing had the whole of the night to sit and think.

Now, as the red sun peeked over the rim of the gorge, he was beginning to feel guilty about the way he had treated Pebblepaw.

The thought of her still filled him with despair and anger, but now he began to wonder if it was unfair to blame her for the decision he had made and the way he felt now. It was my choice, he told himself. My responsibility. Even so, his guilt over exploding at her was only one drop in the vast pool of guilt that was his heart.

As the whole circle of the sun appeared above the cliff, warriors began to emerge from their den, stretching before making their slow way down the trails. Leafstar appeared from her den and beckoned some of her cats around her, speaking quickly.

I wonder what all that’s about, Hawkwing thought drowsily.

A moment later the group dispersed, the warriors heading more purposefully to the bottom of the gorge. Sandynose broke from the group and walked up to Hawkwing and Blossomheart.

“Your vigil is over,” the light brown tom announced. “Come and join the others by the Rockpile. Leafstar is calling a Clan meeting.”

Another one? Hawkwing was puzzled. Why? We all just met yesterday for the warrior ceremony.

The rest of the Clan began to gather around as Leafstar leaped up to the top of the Rockpile. She was followed by Sharpclaw, and also, Hawkwing noticed with a prickle of curiosity, by Echosong the medicine cat.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!” Leafstar yowled.

One or two remaining warriors stuck their heads out of their den, then hurried down the trail to join their Clanmates.

Harveymoon, M acgyver, and Ebonyclaw, the daylight warriors, appeared at the top of the cliff and leaped from rock to rock to gather with the others.

“I’m glad we left early!” M acgyver panted as he raced past

Hawkwing and Blossomheart. “We might have missed this!”

Birdwing appeared at the entrance to the nursery with M intfur and Honeytail, all three she-cats looking down at their leader on the Rockpile. Birdwing’s kits frisked around her paws, sometimes getting perilously close to the edge of the trail, until their mother gathered them closer with a sweep of her tail.

Pebblepaw and Parsleypaw poked their heads curiously out of the apprentices’ den, then bounded down to the bottom of the gorge and found a place to sit close to the edge of the river.

Finally the dawn patrol—Tinycloud, Sparrowpelt, and Bellapaw—returned, appearing at the far side of the gorge and making their way down into the crowd of cats.

When all the Clan was assembled, Leafstar began to speak, her amber gaze traveling over her cats; Hawkwing thought that he could detect trouble in her eyes, and his pads pricked with apprehension.

“Echosong received a prophecy from StarClan a few sunrises ago,” the brown-and-cream-colored she-cat meowed. “It will affect the whole future of our Clan. I have thought deeply about this, and I feel that it is time to share her vision with you.” She took a step back and waved her tail as a sign for Echosong to speak.

The silver tabby medicine cat hesitated, her gaze seeming fixed on something far away. Then she gave her pelt a brisk shake.

“A few days ago I went to the Whispering Cave, to speak with the spirits of our warrior ancestors,” she began. “A pale gray tom appeared to me in a dream. I had never seen him before, but he told me that his name was Skystar, and he was the ancient founder of our Clan.”

Hawkwing caught his breath. How many seasons must have passed since SkyClan first came to be, and yet a Clan leader could still appear out of the far past to speak to their medicine cat!

“Skystar told me, ‘The fire has burned out, but to dispel the darkness you must find the spark that remains,’” Echosong meowed.

“And what does that mean?” Sharpclaw asked with an irritated twitch of his tail.

“I believe that ‘the fire that has burned out’ must refer to Firestar, the great leader of ThunderClan,” Echosong responded.

Firestar, who restored SkyClan after we were scattered and almost destroyed! Hawkwing thought, his wonder growing. Firestar who was Ravenpaw’s friend. Every kit knows that story!

The concern in Leafstar’s expression grew deeper. “I don’t want to believe that Firestar is dead…” she murmured.

Echosong dipped her head sadly. “I don’t see what else

Skystar’s words could mean,” she continued. “And if that’s true, then ‘the spark that remains’ could well be Firestar’s kin in ThunderClan. That must mean that we’re being told to seek out ThunderClan, and perhaps the other Clans, too. Perhaps it’s time for SkyClan to go home…”

“Really?” Sharpclaw lashed his tail; Hawkwing could see how much he hated Echosong’s suggestion. “And just how do you suggest we do that? We know that the Clans have moved away from where they lived when Firestar came to us. How are we supposed to find them now?”

Echosong remained calm in the face of the deputy’s objection.

“I doubt StarClan would send us on a journey we could not complete,” she mewed. “We can seek out Barley, the farm cat who was Ravenpaw’s friend, and ask him if he knows where the Clans’ camps are now.”

“That’s exactly what we should do!” Bellapaw called out from where she sat at the foot of the Rockpile.

“Barley will be glad to help,” her brother Rileypaw agreed.

They’re Barley’s kin, Hawkwing thought. They know him better than any cat. But even if he can help us, is this really what we’re being asked to do?

Silence fell among the Clan, the cats exchanging glances of mingled confusion and dismay. Hawkwing felt as bewildered as his Clanmates. StarClan can’t possibly mean to send us wandering away from here. The gorge is our home. Why would we want to leave it?

Leafstar had stepped forward again and was about to speak when the silence was broken by Sagenose.

“This is all very well,” he declared, “but surely there is a simpler answer. This prophecy must be about the fire that just happened. It can’t be a coincidence that the fire broke out at the same time that Echosong had her vision.”

“M aybe there’s something left over at the Twoleg greenplace where the fire happened,” Plumwillow suggested. “M aybe Skystar wants us to find it.”

Echosong shook her head. “It’s true that I had the vision on the same day that the fire happened, but—”

“Was StarClan predicting the fire?” Nettlesplash asked, leaping to his paws.

Hawkwing felt as though a rock had plummeted out of an empty sky and landed on top of him.

Sharpclaw let out a low growl. “Quiet down, all of you, and let

Echosong finish.”

The Clan obeyed him, though there was still a stir of movement and muttered comments following Nettlesplash’s question.

Hawkwing felt a tightness in his chest. Did Echosong know about the fire before it happened? And she kept it to herself? He tensed every muscle as though he was creeping up on prey as he listened to the medicine cat’s reply.

“I believe that ‘the fire has burned out’ refers to Firestar’s death, and not a real fire,” Echosong meowed. “I don’t think that Skystar—”

This time it was Tinycloud who interrupted. “If this prophecy is about some cat with fire in their name, then maybe it refers to Firefern or Bouncefire.”

Bouncefire puffed his chest out at the thought of being mentioned in a prophecy, while Firefern, looking disturbed, opened her jaws to reply.

But Hawkwing couldn’t hold himself in any longer. Before Firefern could speak, he sprang to his paws. “If you knew about the prophecy,” he cried out to Echosong, “why didn’t you warn any cat? You think it’s just a coincidence that you received this prophecy on the morning of the great fire, and they’re not connected? That doesn’t make any sense! StarClan warned you about the fire, and—”

“StarClan has always worked in mysterious ways,” Echosong cut in. “By the time I awoke from the dream, it was already too late. When I came out of the Whispering Cave, I could smell smoke, and by the time the smoke reached our camp the fire was already blazing. It was only moments later that you and the others returned with Duskpaw. Hawkwing, believe me, I understand how you feel. But not even a medicine cat can go back in time.”

Her words had no more effect on Hawkwing than the cawing of rooks high in the branches of a tree. That’s unfair! Why would StarClan send a prophecy too late for Echosong to do anything?

Duskpaw needn’t have died! “What’s the point of having prophecies if they can’t prevent anything terrible?” he asked bitterly.

Echosong’s voice grew gentle, and her beautiful eyes were full of compassion. “Hawkwing, I’m really sorry about what happened to your brother. It is a terrible tragedy. But this prophecy is not about him.”

“How can it not be about him?” Hawkwing demanded, his heart pounding as if it would break out of his chest. His shoulder fur was bristling and he slid out his claws. He wanted to leap on Echosong as if she were his enemy, and if she had not been standing above him on the Rockpile, he might have done it. “The prophecy spoke of a fire, and Duskpaw died in one!”

“Hawkwing, that’s enough!” Sharpclaw stepped forward and gazed down at his son. “Echosong is our medicine cat. She deserves your respect.”

His sharp tones made Hawkwing feel embarrassed. He was too old to be scolded like that in front of the entire Clan. He said no more—he could barely speak. His whole body seemed to burn with shame and anger.

“Prophecies can’t prevent every terrible thing,” Echosong explained. “But they can certainly help prevent some terrible things. And if StarClan tells us that we must find Firestar’s kin, then it’s up to SkyClan to listen—or who knows what might happen?” Her words fell into silence; every cat in the Clan had their gaze trained on her.

Finally Leafstar raised her tail, and spoke into the silence. “I will consider sending a few cats on a quest to look for Firestar’s kin,” she announced. “But before that, a patrol will go to the scene of the fire just in case there’s anything in the embers.”

“And what if there’s nothing to be found?” Sharpclaw asked.

“Then we will be sure that Echosong’s prophecy did not refer to the real fire,” Leafstar responded. “Sandynose, you will lead the patrol. Take Plumwillow and Hawkwing with you.”

Hawkwing was startled to be chosen for the patrol. Surely Leafstar must be furious with me? Then he realized that his Clan leader must want him of all cats to be certain that there was nothing important at the scene of the fire, and that the prophecy had nothing to do with Duskpaw’s death.

Leafstar dismissed the meeting, and the other cats began to disperse. Sandynose and Plumwillow came to join Hawkwing.

“You haven’t eaten or slept,” Sandynose meowed as he padded up. “We don’t have to go right now, if you want some fresh-kill and then take a nap.”

“No, I’m fine.” Hawkwing’s paws were itching to get moving.

“If we need to find the spark that remains, who is to say it won’t blow away soon? How do we know it hasn’t blown away already?”

“Okay.” Sandynose gave a brisk nod, and led the way up the trail to the top of the gorge.

As he followed, Hawkwing realized part of the reason why he had been so hostile to Echosong. I want to believe that the prophecy was about the fire. Then it wouldn’t be all my fault that Duskpaw died, because it would have been destined in the stars. But he realized too that even if that was true, it made no difference.

Duskpaw is still dead.

“I think the prophecy must have something to do with the fire,” Plumwillow meowed as the patrol set out across the scrubby grass toward the Twoleg greenplace. “I mean, why would StarClan send us off to find the other Clans, when we’re doing well right where we are?”

“True,” Sandynose responded. “That would be mouse-brained.”

Hawkwing remained quiet, barely listening to his Clanmates’ chatter. As they drew closer to the Twoleg greenplace, he began to pick up traces of the terrible smell of burning. He flinched, needing to pause for a moment with his eyes tight shut, as all the memories of that dreadful day came rushing back. He could hear the anguished cries of the trapped cats, and almost see Duskpaw’s scared face through the smoke.

Forcing himself into motion again, Hawkwing caught up with his Clanmates. When the Twoleg greenplace came into sight, he could see that most of the debris from the fire had been cleared away, probably by Twolegs. The Twoleg rock was gone, and so was the fallen tree branch. All that remained were a stretch of earth where the grass had burned away, part of the burned tree, and scorch marks on the trash can.

The three cats padded over the site of the fire, carefully examining everything. Sandynose and Plumwillow went on discussing the prophecy, but Hawkwing wasn’t interested. He was focused on finding something—anything—that might be “the spark that remains.” But the search didn’t take long, because there was hardly anything left to search.

“There’s nothing here but charred earth and a bad smell,” Sandynose declared with a sigh. “Echosong is probably right.”

“Yes,” Plumwillow agreed. “The prophecy must be about Firestar’s kin—the other Clan cats.”

Hawkwing remained quiet. He was still unsure about the prophecy, and the image of Duskpaw, trapped and terrified, kept flashing into his head.

“Let’s go back,” Sandynose meowed.

“Okay. And maybe we can pick up some prey on the way,” Plumwillow suggested. “Coming, Hawkwing?”

Hawkwing shook his head. “No, you can go on without me. I’ll follow you in a few moments.”

As he watched his Clanmates retreating in the direction of the gorge, Hawkwing reflected how strange it felt to be allowed to say that. I don’t have to go back with them, because I’m not an apprentice anymore. It’s okay for me to be out here alone.

Once his companions had vanished, Hawkwing turned to face the stretch of scarred earth.

Even though his brother was buried under the tree at the top of the gorge, Hawkwing felt closer to him here, the last place

Duskpaw was alive. And it’s a place he loved—because of all those scraps of Twoleg food.

“Duskpaw,” he mewed aloud, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m so sorry I didn’t save you. I’m so sorry that you never got to be a warrior.”

As Hawkwing stood there, silently grieving, the scent of another cat drifted into his nose. Startled, he turned to see a strange cat only a tail-length away. His heart pounded, and he twitched his ears, uncomfortable to realize he’d been overheard. How did he manage to creep up on me like that?

The cat scent must have been covered up by the smell from the smoke and fire, he thought, turning his attention to the intruder.

He was a strong, muscular tom, with white fur broken up with black spots, and a long black tail. His expression was friendly as he dipped his head to Hawkwing. But this was a cat Hawkwing had never smelled or seen before.

“Hi,” he meowed. “M y name is Darktail. I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I’m wondering if you’re a Clan cat.”

A Clan cat? For a moment Hawkwing was silent, not sure how to reply, or what this strange cat wanted. Why do you want to know?

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” Darktail continued, glancing down as though embarrassed, “but I heard you talking to your Clanmates. And I couldn’t help overhearing that you were talking to some cat who wasn’t there. The fire was a terrible tragedy, wasn’t it? Did you lose some cat you loved?”

Hawkwing had begun to bristle when Darktail confirmed that he had overheard what he’d said to Duskpaw. That was private!

But the white tom’s voice was so sympathetic that Hawkwing forced his shoulder fur to lie flat again.

“Yes, I lost my brother,” he replied.

“I’m so sorry,” Darktail meowed. “You know, I was caught in that fire too.”

Hawkwing’s pads began to prickle with suspicion. I didn’t see you here! “You don’t look injured,” he pointed out.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly in the fire,” Darktail explained. “I was resting, in those bushes over there.” He gestured with his tail.

Hawkwing looked to the bushes, which he knew he had walked past on his way to the Twoleg rock. How had he not seen a sleeping rogue? Then he guessed that he’d been so worried about his Clanmates, he just wasn’t paying attention to anything else.

“I breathed in a lot of smoke,” Darktail continued. “It made me weak and confused, and I even passed out for a while,” he added, letting out a feeble cough. “And I haven’t been able to travel on because I can’t breathe very well, and I get tired quickly when I move around. I was wondering…” He paused, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“What?” Hawkwing asked. What does this cat want?

“Well, I know that Clan cats keep herbs for medicine,” Darktail replied. “Could you possibly give me something to help with my breathing? I’ve had trouble hunting, because I’m so weak. If you could, I’d repay you for your kindness.”

It was strange, but Hawkwing felt an odd connection to this newcomer. Darktail had been injured in the same fire that killed Duskpaw. He, too, had suffered because of Twoleg foolishness. A

sudden compulsion to help pricked every hair on his pelt.

Somehow, Hawkwing thought, it would be like fighting the fire all over again, and this time, he could win.

I can’t take a strange cat into camp, but maybe I can get Echosong to bring him some herbs to help him. Surely she’ll do that, when Darktail was injured in the same fire that killed Duskpaw?

“I’ll go and get a medicine cat who might be able to help you,” he told Darktail.

“I’ll come with you,” the white tom responded instantly.

“No, you should stay here,” Hawkwing objected. “It’s too far for an injured cat.” He also didn’t want to bring a strange cat onto

Clan territory without permission, but Darktail didn’t need to know that.

“Please… I must come with you,” Darktail insisted, moving toward Hawkwing with wide, pleading eyes. Hawkwing stepped back, startled.

Darktail dipped his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be demanding. It’s just, I can’t bear to stay alone among the charred remains anymore. It’s too terrible to be here with the smell and the memory—” He choked and went on, “The memory of the horrible things that happened. I only stayed because I heard there were Clan cats around here, and I hoped to meet one of you. I’m just so relieved to find you! But don’t worry, I won’t come into your camp unless I’m invited.”

Hawkwing took in the strange cat’s serious, hopeful expression. “I understand,” he murmured finally. Surely no cat can take issue with my showing him to our border—not after what he’s been through.

Side by side, the two cats headed toward the gorge. Hawkwing set a slow pace because of Darktail’s breathing problems, but even so the white tom had to stop two or three times to catch his breath.

I’m glad I found him, Hawkwing thought as they padded into the undergrowth at the top of the gorge. We went back to the Twoleg greenplace, looking for clues about the prophecy, and I found a cat looking for help. Excitement tingled through Hawkwing from ears to tail-tip. Maybe Darktail is a clue… Maybe he is “the spark that remains,” and I was meant to find him!

“Stay here,” he told Darktail when they reached the edge of the cliff. “I’ll go and find our medicine cat.” He felt embarrassed at the thought of seeking out Echosong so soon after arguing with her at the Rockpile, but he knew it had to be done.

Echosong was in her den, sorting out herbs while Cloudmist slept curled up in her mossy nest. The medicine cat looked up as Hawkwing paused at the entrance to the den.

“Hi, Hawkwing,” she mewed. “Can I help you?”

If she was still upset about their argument, she didn’t show it, greeting Hawkwing with the same calm friendliness she showed to every cat. Hawkwing’s embarrassment faded.

“I stayed behind at the greenplace after the others left,” he told

Echosong, “and I met a strange cat there. He was injured in the fire, too, and he doesn’t have a Clan to take care of him. I thought he might be somehow connected to the prophecy.”

Echosong’s green eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but all she said was, “How was he injured?”

“He breathed in too much smoke.”

“Coltsfoot for that,” Echosong murmured, sorting through her herbs until she found some of the dried flowers. “Come on,” she added, picking up two stems in her jaws, “show me where he is.”

Darktail was waiting where Hawkwing had left him, under a tree at the top of the gorge. Echosong looked wary as she approached him and set the coltsfoot down in front of him. “Eat one now,” she told him with a dip of her head, “and the other one at sunhigh.”

“Thank you,” Darktail meowed, swallowing the first stem.

“It’s great how you Clan cats look after each other. It must really make a difference, being part of a Clan.”

“How do you know about the Clans?” Echosong asked, her eyes narrowing.

“When I was a young cat, I knew some groups of cats who lived in a forest,” Darktail replied. “They all had their own territory, and each cat had its own duties, and they had a special cat who healed them.”

“So you’ve met Clan cats?” Echosong asked, her ears perking up with excitement and curiosity. “You’ve seen them before?”

“Sure I have. All the Clans had different names, and I think one of them was called… something like ThunderClan?”

Hawkwing’s belly lurched as the white tom named Firestar’s Clan. He really must be part of the prophecy! He listened as Echosong, intensely interested now, went on questioning the newcomer. Darktail certainly seemed to know a lot about the Clans, as much as any loner would know who had spent some time living near them. Hawkwing could tell that Echosong suspected he might be able to help SkyClan find Firestar’s kin. And he realized that perhaps both meanings of the prophecy were correct.

Maybe Darktail and ThunderClan are both “the spark that remains.” The fire led me to Darktail, and now Darktail is going to lead us to Firestar’s kin.

Finally, Echosong turned to Hawkwing. “Go and ask Leafstar to come up here,” she ordered him.

As he headed down the trail toward Leafstar’s den, Hawkwing’s fur fluffed up with importance at the thought that he was fetching the Clan leader to talk to a cat that he had brought back from the site of the fire.

When he reached Leafstar’s den, his father, Sharpclaw, was there with her. The two cats were talking quietly with their heads close together, and Hawkwing guessed that they were discussing what to do about the prophecy.

He waited quietly by the entrance until Leafstar looked up and noticed him.

“Yes, Hawkwing?” she mewed. “What can I do for you?”

Dipping his head politely, Hawkwing explained how he had met Darktail, and how Echosong was talking to the stranger at the top of the gorge. “He seems to know a lot about the Clans,” he finished. “Echosong thinks you should hear what he has to say.”

Leafstar nodded. “Of course. This sounds interesting.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sharpclaw added.

Hawkwing was pleased that his father wanted to talk to the newcomer as well. Maybe he’ll finally think that I’ve done something right!

Darktail was sitting under the same tree when Hawkwing returned with the Clan leader and deputy. Echosong was pacing to and fro a couple of tail-lengths away, her expression deeply thoughtful. She halted and turned back to Darktail when Leafstar appeared.

“Tell Leafstar what you told me,” she directed.

Darktail dipped his head respectfully to the Clan leader, and repeated what he had said earlier about the Clans.

“Thank you, Darktail,” Leafstar meowed when he had finished.

Her expression was warm. “Please come down into the camp and share our prey. Our hunting patrols have just returned, and there’s plenty for every cat. Then you can spend the night in the medicine cat’s den and get some rest.” She paused, then added, “If what you say is true, then you have given us all a very great gift.”

Leafstar would never invite Darktail into camp unless she thought he could be a great help to SkyClan. In spite of his grief about his brother, Hawkwing felt every hair on his pelt tingle with pride that he had brought something useful back from the site of the fire.

As he padded down the trail into the gorge, bringing up the rear behind his father, Hawkwing suddenly felt shaky with exhaustion, and his belly was bawling for food. Until then, the excitement of the morning, of discovering Darktail, had driven his night’s vigil and his hunger out of his mind. But now he could feel every moment that he had stayed awake.

I could fall asleep on my paws if I wasn’t starving!

Once he reached the camp he split off from Darktail and the others, then bounded over to the fresh-kill pile and picked out a juicy-looking mouse, gulping it down in huge mouthfuls. Then, with a nod at the injured cat, he headed for his new nest in the warriors’ den.

As he curled up and closed his eyes he felt a tiny hint of hope for the first time in days, like a light flickering in the depths of a dark forest.