Moonrise

Chapter 10

Leafpaw gazed along the line of hostile WindClan cats, and locked eyes with a bracken-colored apprentice. The young cat drew its lips back in a snarl; Leafpaw’s fur prickled. She was a medicine cat and supposed to be outside normal Clan rivalries.

But she found her claws instinctively flexing into the soft moorland grass; if it came to a fight, that apprentice would soon discover that she was not lacking in warrior skills.

“Well?” When Firestar did not immediately answer his question, Tallstar repeated it. “Why have you come? Do you think we’re so weak that you can drive us out as Brokenstar did?”

Defiant yowls and hisses broke out from the warriors behind him, and it was a moment before Firestar could make himself heard.

“Tallstar, you have known nothing but friendship from me since the time that Graystripe and I found you and brought you home,” he replied. “Have you forgotten that? I think you must have, or you wouldn’t accuse me of being like Brokenstar.”

Leafpaw thought she detected a flash of guilt in the older cat’s eyes, but there was still a challenge in his voice as he meowed, “Then why have you come here with so many warriors?”

“Don’t be absurd, Tallstar,” Firestar growled. “I haven’t enough warriors to take on your whole Clan. We want to talk to you, that’s all. WindClan have been stealing prey from ThunderClan territory, and you know as well as I do that that’s against the warrior code.”

Tallstar looked taken aback, as if he genuinely hadn’t known what his warriors were up to. Before he could reply, his deputy Mudclaw called out, “Prove it! Prove that WindClan has stolen so much as a sniff of prey!”

“What?” Leafpaw saw Graystripe’s whole body stiffen. “We saw you ourselves just now! And we found prey bones reeking of WindClan scent.”

“So you say,” Mudclaw sneered. “If you ask me, it’s just an excuse to attack us.”

Furious, Graystripe launched himself across the border, his claws reaching out as he bowled over the WindClan deputy.

Mudclaw let out a screech and the two cats rolled on the short moorland grass.

Tallstar gazed down at the two battling warriors with a look of contempt, as if he had found maggots in his fresh-kill.

Warriors on both sides were poised to spring, their teeth bared and the light of battle in their eyes. Leafpaw’s heart beat faster as she tried to remember the fighting moves her mentor had taught her.

Firestar stepped forward with a fierce hiss. “Stop!”

At once Graystripe broke away from Mudclaw’s raking claws and stood back, breathing heavily. Mudclaw scrambled to his paws and glared at him.

“Graystripe, I told you we were not here to fight,” Firestar meowed.

The deputy’s yellow eyes were smoldering. “But did you hear the lies he told?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t change my orders. Get back onto our side of the border. Now.”

His tail twitching angrily, Graystripe obeyed. Leafpaw understood how he must feel, especially when he was still worrying about his missing children, but she could also guess how uncomfortable it must be for Firestar when his friend and deputy disobeyed a direct order, and in full view of WindClan. She stifled a sigh. Was this part of being a medicine cat, to understand every cat so clearly and want to sympathize with them all?

Cinderpelt limped forward to stand beside Firestar. “You know that medicine cats do not lie,” she meowed to Tallstar.

“You know, too, that it is not the will of StarClan for warriors to trespass on the territory of other Clans and steal their prey.”

“And is it the will of StarClan for my Clan to starve?”

Tallstar asked bitterly. “Yesterday one of our elders died, and he will be the first of many if we don’t do something.”

“If we could help you, we would,” Cinderpelt replied with feeling. “But ThunderClan is short of prey too. The whole forest is suffering because of the Twolegs.”

“We should work together,” Firestar added. “I swear to you by StarClan that if ThunderClan finds an answer to these problems, we will share it with WindClan.”

Tallstar met his gaze with a long, thoughtful look, his bitterness dying away and leaving deep sorrow behind it. “An answer? Firestar, I don’t think that even you can find an answer to our troubles. Unless you let us hunt on your territory.” Even while he was speaking, he shook his head, to show Firestar he did not make that suggestion seriously. “No, you are right to keep your own prey. The warrior code demands that you feed your own Clan first. WindClan does not look to you for help.”

Firestar dipped his head to the WindClan leader. “Tallstar, we promise you that ThunderClan has not lied to you. There will be no fighting now, but if the prey-stealing doesn’t stop, you know what to expect.”

He turned and walked away, gesturing with his tail for his warriors to follow him. As they withdrew, yowls of derision rose from the WindClan warriors, as if they had fought a battle and driven invaders away from their territory.

Leafpaw felt her neck fur rise, half expecting the rival Clan to pursue them like the warriors had pursued her and Sorreltail a few days before. But the sounds died away behind them as Firestar led the way around the top of the hollow at Fourtrees and down the slope toward the stream.

“Why didn’t we fight it out?” Dustpelt demanded. “We could have taught them a lesson that they wouldn’t forget in a hurry!”

“I know,” Firestar sighed. “But as I said before, the Clans cannot afford to turn on one another.”

“And when our patrols catch WindClan stealing prey again?” Dustpelt’s tail twitched; he was short-tempered at the best of times, and Leafpaw knew how anxious he was about Ferncloud and their kits.

“We’ll see them off if we catch them trespassing,” Firestar promised. “But let’s pray to StarClan that Tallstar sees sense and keeps his warriors on their own territory. I don’t think he knew what was going on until today.”

“Maybe not. But he’ll back his own warriors now.”

Dustpelt paused, his brown tabby fur bristling as if he could see his enemy in front of him.

“Why don’t you go and hunt for a bit?” Firestar suggested.

“See if you can find a bit of fresh-kill for Ferncloud.”

Dustpelt glanced at him, his neck fur beginning to relax.

“Okay, I will.” In a reluctant growl he added, “Thanks.”

Swiftly he turned and disappeared into the thicker vegetation beside the stream.

Firestar watched him go, his expression full of sorrow.

Leafpaw could hardly bear to see his frustration and hopelessness. She knew he would never give up, not before the monsters had destroyed every last tree in the forest. But it looked like the time when that might happen was drawing near, and what would Firestar do then?

As she followed him across the stream toward the ThunderClan camp, she struggled yet again with the guilt she felt about not telling her father what she knew about Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw. Perhaps now was the time to speak up, to relieve some of his anxieties about them, and to assure him that StarClan knew about the suffering in the forest and had their own plan to relieve it. But what would Firestar say to her, when she had kept silent for so long? Leafpaw shrank at the thought of his anger.

Seeing that Cinderpelt had dropped a little way behind the other cats, she wondered if her mentor might have the answer. She could tell Cinderpelt; the medicine cat would understand, and perhaps help her to pass the news on to Firestar.

Leafpaw waited for her mentor to catch up to her.

“Cinderpelt…” she began, anticipating the medicine cat’s usual sensible, no-nonsense advice.

But when Cinderpelt turned to her, her blue eyes were clouded with pain. “I’ve heard nothing from StarClan,” she mewed without giving Leafpaw the chance to speak first.

“Have they abandoned us? It can’t be their will for the Twolegs to destroy us all.”

As if to emphasize her desperation, the roar of the Twoleg monsters thundered in the distance. Though she couldn’t see them from here, Leafpaw could picture all too clearly the garish, glittering pelts and the vast black paws that tore up the forest as easily as Dustpelt’s claws had torn the grass moments before.

She brushed comfortingly against her mentor. “Suppose StarClan spoke to us in another way?” she suggested, feeling her heart begin to pound. The whole forest was turned upside down, if apprentices knew about prophecies that had not been sent to older cats.

“What other way? They haven’t sent me a single dream or a sign.”

“They might have sent it to another cat.”

“To you?” Cinderpelt rounded on Leafpaw with her blue eyes blazing. “Have they?”

“No, but—”

“No, StarClan are silent.” Cinderpelt’s brief flash of energy vanished and her tail drooped. “They must want something from us, but what?”

Leafpaw found it impossible to go on. Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to speak after all. How would Cinderpelt feel if she found out that StarClan had chosen to speak to inexperienced warriors, and send them on the journey instead of the medicine cats? She felt so lonely and confused that she instinctively tried to reach out to Squirrelpaw and share her sister’s thoughts. But she found no comfort there. All she could sense was darkness, and the noise of rushing water.

“Leafpaw! Are you coming?”

With a jump, Leafpaw realized that Cinderpelt was several tail-lengths ahead of her.

“Sorry!” she called back, and plodded on at the rear of the patrol, her head bowed down by her fears for StarClan’s chosen cats and for all the forest. And, most of all, for Squirrelpaw—wherever she was.