Moonrise

Chapter 5

Stormfur’s paws scrabbled on smooth gray rock. Heaving himself upward, he reached the top of the boulder and turned to look down at his friends, his fur buffeted by the icy breeze.

“Come on,” he meowed. “It’s not so bad if you take a leap at it.”

Following the rising sun, he and the other cats had left the moorland behind and begun to climb. Now, as sunhigh approached on the second day of their homeward journey, the mountains they had seen from a distance stretched up in front of them even bigger than they had imagined, their sheer slopes black and forbidding, with wisps of cloud floating around their peaks. The soil beneath the cats’ paws was rough with pebbles, and little grew there except sparse grass and twisted thorn trees. There was no clear path; instead they followed winding narrow clefts and often had to turn back when they came up against rock walls with no way through.

Thinking wistfully of the river sliding through deep, cool grasses at home, Stormfur half wished they had decided to return through Twolegplace instead.

Squirrelpaw bunched her hind legs and launched herself in a massive leap, following Stormfur up the boulder that blocked their path. “Mouse dung!” she gasped as she missed the top and began to slide back. Stormfur leaned over and sank his teeth into her neck fur, steadying her until her scraping claws pro-pelled her up the last tail-length to sit beside him.

“Thanks!” Her green eyes glowed at him. “I know my name’s Squirrelpaw, but I never thought I’d wish that I was a squirrel!”

Stormfur let out a mrrow of laughter. “We’ll all wish we were squirrels if we get much more of this.”

“Hey!” Crowpaw’s voice rose aggressively from below.

“Stand back, will you? How can I get up there with you two furballs standing in the way?”

Stormfur and Squirrelpaw stepped back from the top of the boulder, and a moment later Crowpaw joined them, his long limbs managing the jump easily. Ignoring the others, he turned back to help Feathertail, who scrambled up with a muttered curse as one of her claws snagged on the rock.

Stormfur was worried that the rat bite in Tawnypelt’s shoulder would stop her from climbing the boulder, and wondered if they would have to try finding a way around it, but to his relief her leap brought her almost to the top, where Crowpaw grabbed her by the scruff and hauled her up.

Brambleclaw joined them last of all, shaking his ruffled tabby fur as he stood on top of the boulder and looked around. This close to sunhigh, there were few shadows to point them in the right direction and nothing but a sheer precipice in front of them, hiding what lay ahead.

“I suppose we go that way,” he meowed, flicking his tail toward a narrow ledge leading across the face of the rock.

“What do you think?” he asked Stormfur.

Stormfur felt his pelt prickle as he looked at the ledge. A few straggling bushes had rooted themselves in cracks, but apart from that the rock was bare and if they slipped there would be nothing to hold on to.

“We can try,” he mewed doubtfully, rather surprised that Brambleclaw had asked his opinion. “There’s nowhere else, unless we go back.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Bring up the rear, will you?” he asked. “We don’t know what might be lurking around here, and we need a strong cat to watch our back.”

Stormfur murmured agreement, feeling a warm glow that spread from his ears to his tail-tip at the ThunderClan cat’s praise. Brambleclaw was neither his leader nor his mentor, but Stormfur couldn’t help feeling strong admiration for the young warrior’s courage and the way he had taken the lead on this difficult journey.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Squirrelpaw announced as Brambleclaw squeezed his way along the ledge. “I don’t want to be a squirrel anymore. I’d rather be a bird!”

Stormfur brought up the rear as Brambleclaw had asked, his ears pricked for danger while he tried to hide his nervousness about the sheer drop, which tugged at him like an invisible weight. He hugged the rock face, placing each paw carefully and using his tail for balance. After a little while the breeze grew stronger, and Stormfur’s mind filled with terrifying images of himself or one of his friends blown right off the ledge and down to the ground below.

After a short while the ledge curved around the rock face, out of sight. Before Stormfur reached the turn, Tawnypelt, who was just in front of him, stopped abruptly, and from farther ahead he heard Feathertail exclaim, “Oh, no!”

“What’s the matter?” Stormfur asked.

Tawnypelt edged forward more slowly, and Stormfur followed until he could see what was ahead. His belly lurched. A gap had opened up between their ledge and the rock face; the ledge became a spur of rock, jutting out from the side of the mountain and narrowing to a point. On both sides was a dizzying drop to a valley below where a mountain stream flowed, looking thin as a mousetail.

“Do you want to go back?” he called to Brambleclaw.

“Hang on a minute,” the ThunderClan warrior replied.

“There might be a way. Look over there.”

Stormfur looked where his tail was pointing: On the mountainside beyond the gap the rock face had broken away, and a narrow rift had opened up between two steep slopes.

Bushes were growing there and one or two small trees. A stream trickled down one side, overhung by grasses.

“The going looks easier there,” Feathertail meowed. “But can we get across?”

Squirrelpaw lifted her head and tasted the air. “I can smell rabbits,” she mewed longingly.

Stormfur measured the gap. It was wider than he liked, especially from a standing start. He thought he could manage it, but what about Tawnypelt? The ShadowClan warrior had started to limp again since they had started their climb, and even though she hadn’t said anything, it was obvious the wound hadn’t healed properly yet.

Before he could voice his doubts he heard Crowpaw mew, “What are we waiting for? Are we going to stand around here until we grow wings?”

Without any more hesitation the WindClan apprentice launched himself across the gap. For a heartbeat his gray-black body seemed to hang in the air; then he was across, landing lightly on the loose stones at the edge of the drop.

“Come on!” he called. “It’s easy.”

Catching Brambleclaw’s eye, Stormfur knew that the tabby warrior shared his annoyance that the apprentice hadn’t waited for the rest of them to agree. Now they all had to try the leap, whether they wanted to or not, because Crowpaw would never manage to jump back onto the narrow spur of rock, and they could not leave him on his own over there.

He was even less pleased when he saw Feathertail crouching at the edge of the rock with the wind buffeting her fur.

Crowpaw was waiting to steady her at the other side, and she waved her plumy tail with pleasure as she realized that she had made it safely.

The remaining cats bunched together on the rock.

Stormfur’s pelt pricked with fear as he felt the breeze grow stronger.

“Okay, who’s next?” Brambleclaw asked steadily.

“I’ll go,” Squirrelpaw meowed. “See you over there.”

She pushed herself off from the rock in a tremendous leap, landing a tail-length from the edge on the other side.

“She’s quite something,” Brambleclaw murmured, then looked confused, as if he hadn’t meant to speak his thoughts aloud.

“She certainly is,” Stormfur agreed.

“Tawnypelt, are you ready?” Brambleclaw asked, turning away. “Is your shoulder okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Tawnypelt mewed grimly.

She measured the distance with a glance and then took off.

For one horrible instant, Stormfur thought she had jumped short. Her body slammed into the edge of the rock and her front paws scrabbled frantically for a grip among the loose stones. A heartbeat later Feathertail was on one side of her, and Squirrelpaw on the other, sinking their teeth into her neck fur and pulling her up the rest of the way.

“Well done!” Brambleclaw called, his voice high-pitched from worry.

Tawnypelt did not reply. Her tail had fluffed out with terror; Stormfur saw Feathertail coaxing her over to the stream and encouraging her to drink.

“You next?” Brambleclaw asked Stormfur.

“You go; I’m fine.”

But as Stormfur watched the strong tabby warrior leaping the gap, he couldn’t help wishing he hadn’t waited to go last. He was just about to jump when Squirrelpaw shrieked, “Stormfur! Look out!”

At the same instant a dark shadow fell over him and he heard the beating of wings thudding through the air. Without pausing to look up, he launched himself across the gap, catching a glimpse of his friends on the other side scattering to the sides of the valley.

He hit the ground awkwardly, falling to one side, and froze with horror as he looked up to see an enormous bird swooping down on top of him, talons extended.

A cat yowled his name. Rolling away from the claws and stabbing beak he felt the draft from the beating wings and smelled a reek of carrion. Then he was aware of Brambleclaw and Feathertail hurtling toward him, hissing and spitting with their fur standing on end. The bird veered to one side; Stormfur had a couple of heartbeats to scramble away. Then the talons hit the ground, throwing up spurts of dust. The bird let out a frustrated screech. Its wings beat strongly, carrying it up again. All three cats streaked into the shelter of a bush where Squirrelpaw and Tawnypelt were waiting.

“What in StarClan’s name was that?” Stormfur gasped, watching the bird climb higher until it was no more than a dot in the sky. “I’ve never seen such a big bird.”

“An eagle.” Crowpaw wormed his way under the lower branches to join them. “We see them in WindClan territory now and then. They prey on lambs, but the elders say they’ve taken cats before.”

“In another heartbeat it would have taken me,” Stormfur muttered. “Thanks, both of you,” he added to Brambleclaw and Feathertail.

Feathertail shuddered. “Imagine what would have happened if it had spotted us a bit earlier, when we were all stuck out on that rock!”

“I don’t want to imagine it!” Squirrelpaw retorted.

“I think we need to take a break after that,” Brambleclaw meowed. “What about finding some prey? I scented rabbits out there.”

“I’ll go,” Crowpaw offered. “I don’t need to rest. Coming, Feathertail?”

Stormfur opened his mouth to object as his sister pushed her way out of the bush behind Crowpaw. In the end, all he said was, “Watch out for that eagle!”

When they had gone, Tawnypelt closed her eyes with an exhausted sigh and within a couple of heartbeats she was asleep. Stormfur curled up beside her, but he found it hard to rest. He could hear Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw murmuring quietly together, and found he was straining his ears to make out what they were saying, envying their closeness and wishing not for the first time that Squirrelpaw was in his Clan and not Brambleclaw’s. He was worried about his sister too, out there alone with that apprentice. They should keep moving while they could; if they delayed too long, darkness would overtake them and they would be forced to spend the night here.

At last he drifted into an uneasy doze; a paw prodding him in the ribs brought him back to consciousness. He blinked up into Squirrelpaw’s green eyes and his senses were flooded by the scent of rabbit.

“They’re back,” Squirrelpaw meowed. “And they’ve brought enough fresh-kill for every cat. Of course,” she added, her eyes glinting with amusement, “I can eat yours if you don’t want it.”

“Don’t you dare!” Stormfur growled, flicking her ear with his tail as he scrambled up.

Crouching over his share of rabbit, he saw Feathertail and Crowpaw sitting close together as they ate. He suppressed a growl as he wondered yet again how Feathertail could possibly forget what happened when cats from different Clans tried to be together.

Once all the journeying cats were relaxing with full bellies, he managed to edge his sister away from the rest. “Listen, Feathertail, you and Crowpaw—” he murmured.

“What about Crowpaw?” Feathertail’s blue eyes flashed and her voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “You others are so unfair to him!”

Stormfur wanted to point out that the young cat asked for trouble with the way he argued about everything, but he had enough sense not to say so to Feathertail. “That’s not the point,” he mewed. “What’s going to happen when we get back home? Crowpaw’s in a different Clan.”

“We don’t even know if there will be Clans anymore,” Feathertail pointed out. “We’ll be leaving the forest, remember?”

Stormfur snorted. “Do you think all the Clan boundaries will vanish, just because we have to leave? I doubt it.”

He was surprised by the flash of anger in Feathertail’s eyes.

“Have you forgotten already what Midnight said?” she spat. “The Clans won’t survive if they can’t work together.”

“And have you forgotten what happens when cats from different Clans get together?” Stormfur growled. “Look at the way our own father has been torn between two Clans. You and I nearly died because we’re half-Clan! Tigerstar would have killed us if the ThunderClan cats hadn’t rescued us.”

“But Tigerstar’s gone now,” Feathertail mewed stubbornly.

“There won’t be another cat like that in the forest. And Midnight said all the Clans will have to find somewhere else to live. Everything will be different.”

“But you and Crowpaw…”

“I’m not going to talk about me and Crowpaw.”

Feathertail’s anger died. “I’m sorry, Stormfur, but this doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

Stormfur started to deliver a stinging reply, then realized that she was right. Awkwardly he stroked her shoulder with the tip of his tail. “I worry about you, that’s all.”

Feathertail gave his ear a quick lick. “I know. But there’s no need. Really.”

Even though he did not agree with her, Stormfur said nothing. She was his sister and he would do anything to make her happy. He wished Crowpaw could make her happy too, if that was what Feathertail really wanted, but he couldn’t believe that all the rivalry between the Clans would vanish, whatever happened, and let them be together.

When the cats emerged from the shelter of the bush to continue their journey they saw that the sky had grown darker. The wind had dropped but there was a chill in the air and clouds surged around the mountaintop, hiding the sun.

“Rain on its way,” Tawnypelt commented. “That’s all we need.”

“Then let’s push on while we can,” meowed Brambleclaw.

They set off up the rift in the side of the mountain, keeping close to the sides and making what use they could of the cover from bushes, in case the eagle returned. Stormfur kept an eye on the sky; once, he saw a tiny dot, drifting lazily above the mountainside, and knew that the fierce bird was still on the watch.

They passed the source of the tiny stream, bubbling up from a crack between two rocks, and took a last drink before they pressed on. Stormfur gazed up the slope ahead, scanning it for something familiar that would show him the next source of food or shelter, and saw nothing but lifeless, gray rock.

The valley grew narrower and there was even less vegetation. Stormfur felt uncomfortably exposed, but the eagle did not return. As twilight gathered, a thin, cold rain began to fall. The cats’ fur was soon soaked, and there was nowhere to shelter.

“We’ve got to stop soon,” Squirrelpaw announced loudly.

“My paws are falling off.”

“Well, we can’t stop here.” Brambleclaw sounded irritable.

“We need to get out of the rain.”

“No, Squirrelpaw’s right,” Stormfur objected, facing up to the ThunderClan warrior. “We can’t go on in the dark; we risk falling.”

Brambleclaw’s neck fur rose and he fixed Stormfur with a furious glare. Behind him, Stormfur heard a faint murmur of distress from Feathertail. He realized they were within a couple of heartbeats of fighting among themselves. His growing respect for the ThunderClan cat meant that a fight was the last thing he wanted, but he could not back down and let Brambleclaw lead them on to slip over some precipice in the darkness.

Then he saw Brambleclaw’s fur begin to lie flat again as the tabby seemed to understand Stormfur’s concerns. “You’re right, Stormfur. Let’s shelter under the rock over there. It’s better than nothing.”

He led the way to an overhanging rock, open on one side to the wind and rain that grew heavier still as the cats settled down, huddling together in an attempt to keep warm and dry.

“Shelter?” Crowpaw muttered. “If this is shelter, then I’m a hedgehog!”

You’re just as prickly, Stormfur thought, but he kept the words to himself.

That night he slept only in brief, uncomfortable snatches, and whenever he woke, he could feel his friends shifting uneasily around him. When at last the darkness began to lift he heaved himself to his paws, feeling stiff and bleary-eyed, and peered out of the overhang to see dense white mist swirling around them.

“We must be in the clouds,” Brambleclaw murmured, coming to join him. “I hope it lifts soon.”

“Do you think we should go on?” Stormfur asked hesitantly, wanting to avoid another confrontation with the ThunderClan cat. “If we can’t see where we’re going, we could walk straight over a cliff.”

“We manage when the mist comes down on the moors,” Crowpaw pointed out, yawning as he staggered to his paws.

Then he added doubtfully, “But we know our own territory by scent as well as sight.”

“And what about fresh-kill?” Squirrelpaw mewed. “There’s no rabbit scent up here. I’m starving!”

Stormfur tried to ignore his own growling belly while Brambleclaw ventured out of their shelter and stood looking upward. “I can see for a few foxlengths,” he reported.

“This cleft seems to go on and on. I think we’ll be safe if we follow it.”

He glanced at Stormfur as he spoke, a questioning look in his eyes, as if he regretted their recent argument and wanted to be sure that the RiverClan cat agreed with him.

Stormfur stepped out to join him, shivering as the mist began to soak into his fur. “Okay,” he meowed. “Lead the way.

It’s not like we have much choice.”

Reluctantly the other cats followed Brambleclaw out into the cold, clinging mist and padded after him up the rift.

Stormfur noticed that Tawnypelt was limping worse today, as if her leg had stiffened in the night. Midnight’s burdock root had cured the infection, but Stormfur suspected her muscles had been damaged. She needed a medicine cat to look at it, but that was impossible out here.

Daylight gradually grew stronger, and the swirls of cloud became paler, as if somewhere above them the sun was rising.

The rift grew steadily narrower, with walls of rock closing in on either side.

“I hope this isn’t a dead end,” Feathertail mewed. “We can’t go back to that ledge.”

She had hardly spoken when the clouds began to thin out and the cats could see farther ahead. Stormfur found himself staring up at a sheer rock face where the sides of the valley came to a point. There didn’t seem any way of climbing up, not unless they all grew wings and flew. His fur was plastered to his body by the mist and he felt hollow with hunger.

“Now what?” Tawnypelt meowed, sounding as defeated as Stormfur felt.

The six cats stood looking upward, a fine rain drifting around them as if the drops were light enough to be blown by the wind. Stormfur struggled with black despair. What was the point of all this? Even if they reached home, the forest was going to be destroyed. Their hopes of helping their Clans rested on the word of a badger—a creature whom the cats had always regarded as an enemy. Stuck here among rain-wet rocks, it was hard to remember his trust in Midnight’s wisdom. And if Stormfur doubted her, what would his Clanmates say when he tried to pass her message on? They had never completely trusted him or Feathertail because of their half-Clan heritage, so why should they listen now?

Then Stormfur realized that he could hear a steady roaring sound. It reminded him of the river pouring through the ravine in his home territory.

“What’s that?” he meowed, lifting his head. “Can you hear it?”

“Over here, I think,” Brambleclaw called.

Stormfur followed him up to the valley’s point, and discovered a split in the rock winding upward, just wide enough for one cat at a time. Brambleclaw led the way into it, gesturing with his tail for the others to follow. Stormfur waited to bring up the rear, his fur brushing the rock on either side, with unpleasant thoughts going through his head of what would happen if the path became so narrow that they got stuck.

The roaring grew louder, and after a little while the path came out on an open ledge. Broken rocks lay in front of them, rising to a ridge above their heads. A stream poured over the ridge, foaming down past the place where the cats were standing until it vanished behind a jutting boulder.

“Hey, at least we can have a drink!” Squirrelpaw mewed.

“Be careful,” Brambleclaw warned her. “One slip, and you’ll be crowfood.”

Squirrelpaw shot him a glare, but said nothing. She crept forward cautiously to the edge of the stream and crouched to lap. Stormfur and the other cats followed her. The water was ice-cold, refreshing Stormfur and giving him new courage.

Perhaps their scramble over these hostile mountains would soon be over.

Rising to his paws again, he glanced downstream and froze in shock. Just below where the cats were drinking, the rocks fell away into a precipice. Padding warily a few paces toward it Stormfur stretched his neck to peer over the edge and saw the stream pounding down in a waterfall until it crashed into a pool many tail-lengths below. The sound of thundering water filled his ears, making him dizzy, so that he instinctively tried to dig his claws into the rain-wet rock.

The rest of the cats gathered around him, their eyes wide and horrified.

“Awesome!” Squirrelpaw murmured. Peering over, she added, “There’s prey down there, I bet.”

Through the mist of spray that rose from the pool Stormfur caught a glimpse of another valley like the one they had just left, where grass grew up between broken rocks and bushes lined the rock walls. Squirrelpaw was right—if there were any other living things to be found around here, it would be down there.

“But we need to go up,” Brambleclaw pointed out, flicking his ears toward the place far above their heads where the stream poured over the lip of the rock. “It doesn’t look too difficult to climb. If we go down, we might never get back again.”

“Big deal, if it meant we got something to eat,” Squirrelpaw muttered, but so softly that Stormfur wondered if her Clanmate had heard.

With Brambleclaw in the lead again, they began the scramble upward. They were all exhausted, their soaked fur making them clumsy. Tawnypelt in particular found the going tough, hauling herself painfully over every rock as if she had hardly any strength left.

The stream bubbled up beside them, splashing over the rocks that were already wet and slippery with rain, which was falling more heavily again. Stormfur kept a wary eye on the stream, half expecting it to overflow and sweep them off the rocks. He stayed to the back of the group, trying to watch every cat, well aware that if any of them slipped they could be washed into the pool below the waterfall.

Almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind he saw Feathertail’s paws skid from under her. She slid sideways into the stream; water surged around her as she clung to the rocks by a single paw, her jaws wide in a silent wail of shock.

Stormfur bounded toward her, pushing past Tawnypelt, but before he reached her, Crowpaw had leaned out precariously over the foaming water, sunk his teeth into the scruff of Feathertail’s neck, and dragged her back onto the path.

“Thank you, Crowpaw,” she gasped. Stormfur saw with annoyance that her blue eyes were glowing with gratitude—and something more.

“You should be more careful,” Crowpaw meowed gruffly. “Do you think you’re a Clan leader, with nine lives to throw away? I saved you this once—don’t make me save you again.”

“I won’t.” Feathertail blinked and pressed her nose against Crowpaw’s muzzle. “I’m sorry for not watching out.”

“So you should be,” Stormfur snapped, not sure whether he was more annoyed by his sister’s carelessness or by the fact that Crowpaw had been the one to save her. He shouldered the apprentice away so that he could examine Feathertail more closely. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine,” Feathertail replied, trying to shake water from her fur.

A louder rumbling from farther up the mountain interrupted her, drowning even the roar of the waterfall below.

Stormfur looked up and froze in horror at the sight of a wall of mud, branches, and water hurtling down on them. His worst fears had come true: The mountain stream was in flood. Squirrelpaw let out a terrified yowl and Brambleclaw sprang back toward her.

But the water was upon them before they could do anything. It struck Stormfur like a blow, carrying him off his paws. His legs flailed as the flood carried him down, driving him against rocks where he clawed in vain for a grip before the water swept him on again. He choked as water filled his mouth and one of his paws caught painfully against a rock.

Then there was nothing beneath him at all, and he knew he was plunging over the waterfall.

There was a moment of eerie silence, broken by the whisper of rushing water. Then the roaring and pounding started up again, waiting to swallow him as he plummeted into the pool. Whirled around in the icy water, he caught a brief glimpse of Crowpaw floundering wildly before the surge closed over his head. Then more water crashed down on him, driving him under and filling his senses with churning white foam, a deafening roar, and then nothing.

I’m sorry, StarClan, Stormfur thought desperately as his senses faded. I know it wasn’t my mission, but I tried so hard. Please look after our Clans…