Leafstar sat in the shadow of the Rockpile; Sharpclaw, Stick, and his friends crouched around her as she listened to Stick describing battles and betrayals in his Twolegplace. She had sent Rockshade, Cherrytail, and Sparrowpelt back to the warriors’ den; the rest of the cats were asleep, except for Coal, still keeping watch from a ledge halfway up the cliff.
A chill night breeze whispered down the gorge, though at the top of the rocks Leafstar could make out the first pale streaks of dawn. The moon had set, and the warriors of StarClan were fading.
“Please, will you help us?” Stick asked, bringing his story to a close. “You’re the only hope we have.”
Leafstar felt like a twig whirled around and around in the pool where the river poured out from the cave. Her pelt prickled with annoyance at the way she had been distracted from her discovery that Sharpclaw was training her cats secretly at night.
There’s no way I’m letting that go unchallenged!
“I need to think,” she meowed. “Go to your den now, and I’ll let you know what I decide.”
Stick looked as if he was about to argue, but Cora touched him on the shoulder with her tail and jerked her head toward the path that led up to their den. Stick gave in and moved off, with Cora beside him; Shorty dipped his head to Leafstar and murmured, “Thank you for listening,” before he followed.
Leafstar was left with Sharpclaw; the ginger tom was flexing his claws impatiently.
“I can’t see that there’s much to think about,” he told her, once the Twolegplace cats were out of earshot. “We’re going to help them, aren’t we? We have the strength and the skills, and what Dodge has done is wrong.”
Leafstar fixed him with a hard gaze. “Where in the warrior code does it say that we have to use our skills to help other cats? I’m sorry for what has happened to Stick and the others, but I don’t see how it’s SkyClan’s responsibility.”
“What?” Sharpclaw gave a single lash of his tail. “Look at the way Stick and the others helped us with the rats! And they’ve hunted for us and carried out all the other warrior duties. Are you saying that SkyClan shouldn’t be loyal to them?”
“It’s not a matter of loyalty,” Leafstar pointed out, determined to keep her temper. “Stick and his friends never intended to stay with us for good. Surely that means they’re not warriors like us.”
Sharpclaw twitched his whiskers. “They’re not the only cats to have a life outside the gorge.”
“Why does it always have to come back to the daylight-warriors?” Leafstar snapped. She took a couple of breaths and continued, “I said I’d think about it, and I will. But it will be my decision, Sharpclaw.”
Her deputy met her gaze, then nodded and headed off toward the warriors’ den.
Leafstar watched him go, then climbed the trail to her own den and settled into her nest. But although she was tired, she couldn’t seem to get comfortable in the moss and fern. Her paws prickled with restlessness; leaving the den again, she wandered up the gorge in the growing light of dawn. As she rounded the spur of rock before the training area, she spotted Skywatcher sitting on the edge of the sandy circle; the warrior of StarClan looked up as if he had been waiting for her.
“Greetings, Leafstar,” he meowed. “You are troubled.”
Leafstar dipped her head. “Greetings, Skywatcher. Do you know what’s happening? What the Twolegplace cats want us to do?”
“I do.” Skywatcher swept his starry tail around, beckoning Leafstar to sit beside him. “You must feel as though these visitors have been using SkyClan for their own ends.”
“Yes!” Leafstar exclaimed, warmed by the spirit cat’s sympathy. “That’s exactly how it feels.”
“But they have been loyal to their adopted Clan,” Skywatcher went on. “They have hunted and fought for you. Remember the rats, and the cruel Twoleg, and the wounded Twoleg kit? Other Clans would help one another in times of great need.”
“You mean the forest Clans?” Leafstar checked. “They didn’t exactly help SkyClan in the end, did they?”
Skywatcher shrugged. “Maybe this is your chance to show forgiveness, to prove that SkyClan has recovered and grown stronger from that time, and can show mercy of its own.”
Leafstar didn’t have a chance to reply before she glimpsed a movement among the rocks above the training area, and a black tom bounded into the open. The fur on her neck started to rise, thinking that a rogue was invading the gorge, until she spotted the glitter of stars around his paws.
The newcomer stormed up to Skywatcher, his ears flat with fury, his eyes blazing. “No mercy!” he snarled. “SkyClan has to survive alone! These intruders do not deserve to be warriors if all they ever wanted was our strength and experience to fight their battle.” He spun around and fixed his burning gaze on Leafstar. “SkyClan cannot leave the gorge!”
Skywatcher reached out with his tail in a calming gesture. “Swallowflight,” he meowed, “you are blinded by the wounds that were given to you long ago.”
“It was a wound from which we never recovered,” Swallowflight hissed.
“But the Clan did recover.” Skywatcher nodded to Leafstar. “Look, it’s back where it belongs, in the gorge that you found.”
“This is not a true Clan!” Swallowflight spat. “How many of them are kittypets, refusing to leave their pampered nests of slop and Twolegs fawning over them? Their leader doesn’t even know where half of them are when she’s asleep.”
Anger and horror flooded through Leafstar. “That’s not true!” she whispered, rising to her paws and backing away. Or is there a truth there that I dare not admit?
She looked at Skywatcher for support, but the gray tom did not speak. Instead, he leaped at Swallowflight, knocking him over and rolling him in the sand. Swallowflight fought back viciously, his hind paws scrabbling at Skywatcher as he tried to sink his teeth into the gray cat’s neck.
Skywatcher let out a screech. Leafstar jumped at the noise, and found herself back in her own nest, scrabbling among the moss and bracken.
“It was a dream!” she gasped, struggling for deep breaths to steady the pounding of her heart.
Sunlight poured into her den, and from outside she could hear the movement and voices of cats going about the tasks of the new day. She sat up and started to groom her pelt, feeling as if every hair of it was tangled and filthy.
A few heartbeats later a shadow fell across the sunlight as Echosong popped her head into the den. “Are you okay?” she meowed. “It’s late; I thought you might be sick.”
“No, I’m fine,” Leafstar replied, her voice still shaky.
She was lying. Her dream clung to the corners of her mind and Swallowflight’s challenge echoed off the walls around her. How many StarClan warriors felt the same scorn for her Clan of daylight-warriors? Have I really gone so far wrong?
Then she reminded herself that Skywatcher had been ready to fight on her behalf. And Spottedleaf, Cloudstar, Birdflight, and Fawnstep had all encouraged her. Maybe Swallowflight, whoever he is, has his own problems.
Even so, she was unsettled by the knowledge that StarClan cats would fight among themselves. Leafstar had been taught by Firestar to rely on the wisdom of her warrior ancestors, and she had never seen such rage unleashed among their own ranks before now. Two sides to an argument meant that one side had to be wrong, didn’t it? So which cats was she supposed to listen to?
Great StarClan, what am I going to do if I can’t even trust you?
Leafstar followed Echosong down toward the river. The sun was climbing into a clear sky, filling the gorge with warmth. Even the rocks were hot under Leafstar’s pads as she made her way down the trail.
Fallowfern’s kits were sprawled in a patch of shade at the foot of the cliff, with their mother standing over them.
“But we don’t want to clean out the nursery,” Nettlekit was complaining. “It’s too hot.”
“I just want to sleep,” Rabbitkit murmured drowsily.
“That’s too bad,” Fallowfern meowed, giving the nearest kit a prod with one paw. “The nursery won’t clean itself.”
“Why can’t the apprentices do it?” Plumkit argued.
Fallowfern’s eyes widened and she let out a shocked hiss. “Don’t be so lazy!” she scolded her daughter. “You’re old enough to do it yourselves now. Come along right away, and don’t let me hear another word from any of you!”
Groaning and muttering under their breath, the four kits hauled themselves to their paws and trudged up the path, with Fallowfern right behind.
That must be the first time I’ve seen those kits when they weren’t bouncing around, Leafstar thought, amusement driving away some part of her worries. She spotted Clovertail stumbling awkwardly down from the new birthing den and padding over to Echosong. Her pale brown fur was clumped and untidy.
“I feel as if my belly’s going to burst!” she complained to the medicine cat. “And this heat isn’t helping at all.”
“I know, it’s hard for you when it’s time for your kits to come,” Echosong soothed her. “Come and sleep outside my den—there’s a cool and shady patch there. And I’ll give you some borage; that should help.”
“Thank you, Echosong,” Clovertail mewed, limping off behind the medicine cat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Blinking approvingly, Leafstar turned toward the Rockpile, where Sharpclaw was sorting out the patrols. Her deputy didn’t speak to her, but gave her a cautiously cordial nod. Leafstar returned the gesture, though she was still unhappy that they hadn’t yet discussed the way he had kept secrets from her. All four Twolegplace cats were standing in a cluster at one side. They seemed more subdued than usual; Leafstar wondered if they had given up all hope of finding help. A pang of guilt stabbed through her. I wish I knew what was the right thing to do.
She was still pondering when the daylight-warriors appeared at the top of the gorge. No cheerful yowling announced their arrival this morning; the heat seemed to be affecting them, too, as they padded down the trail with Billystorm in the lead.
As the ginger-and-white tom approached Leafstar he gave her an inquiring look and cocked his head toward Sharpclaw. Even in the hot sunlight, a chill ran through Leafstar. Billystorm obviously wanted to know what had happened after she left him the night before. She felt like a coward for turning away from him. But what can I say to him? I’m not even sure myself what this all means.
“It’s so hot!” Macgyver complained, his paws dragging as he headed toward Sharpclaw. “Do we have to hunt in this weather?”
“Yeah, I feel as if my pelt is burning,” Harveymoon added.
Sharpclaw opened his jaws for a scathing retort, but Leafstar forestalled him. She was grateful to Harveymoon and Macgyver for distracting her from Billystorm, and she noticed that their pelts were especially thick. They were probably feeling the heat more than their Clanmates.
“Fallowfern is cleaning out the nursery,” she meowed. “Why don’t you fetch her some fresh moss from the cave? It must be nice and cool in there.”
“Great! Thanks, Leafstar,” Macgyver responded, waving his tail to beckon Harveymoon. “Let’s go!”
“Be careful of the path—it’s slippery!” Leafstar reminded them as they climbed the Rockpile. She turned back to Sharpclaw, expecting some complaint that she was favoring the kittypets, but her deputy said nothing.
The last patrols were leaving; Leafstar slipped alongside Shrewtooth as he led Ebonyclaw and Frecklepaw toward the Rockpile. “Mind if I join you?” she asked.
Shrewtooth blinked in pleased surprise. “We’d be glad to have you, Leafstar,” he meowed, dipping his head and falling back to let her take the lead.
“No, you lead, Shrewtooth,” Leafstar instructed.
She noticed Ebonyclaw giving her a pleased look, and remembered how concerned the black she-cat had been that Shrewtooth wasn’t getting on well in the Clan. He was doing better now, Leafstar reflected, as the young black tom led the way across the heap of boulders and up the opposite side of the gorge. He was carefully checking each marker, tasting the air for any unfamiliar scents, and sending Ebonyclaw to check on a hole that had opened up among the roots of an oak tree.
“I think it’s just fallen earth,” the black she-cat reported. “There’s no scent of anything but leaves and beetles.”
Leafstar began to relax as the patrol continued along the border. The thick green leaves overhead sheltered them from the worst of the heat; the forest floor was dim and cool, and the long grass brushed refreshingly against her pelt.
This is how Clan life should be.
Suddenly Shrewtooth halted, his ears pricked. “I hear something!” he announced.
Gazing around for the source of the sound, Leafstar spotted a hollow tree just across the border. Bees were flying in and out of a hole high up in the trunk. Their low-pitched humming was what had alerted Shrewtooth.
“Bees!” Frecklepaw exclaimed, her whiskers quivering. “Honey is so good for soothing sore throats. And for binding poultices together.”
Leafstar couldn’t resist a glance at Ebonyclaw, expecting to see the black she-cat looking annoyed. Instead, she caught a resigned eye-roll from Frecklepaw’s mentor. Maybe Frecklepaw is meant to be a medicine cat after all.
“No, Frecklepaw! Get back!”
Shrewtooth’s urgent yowl made Leafstar jump. She spun around to see that Frecklepaw had started to climb the tree, her gaze fixed on the hole in the trunk. Shrewtooth’s warning startled the apprentice; she lost her balance and grabbed at the nearest branch.
There was a loud crack. The branch Frecklepaw was holding gave way, and she half fell, half leaped to the ground in a tumble of mottled brown fur. The low humming of the bees grew to a high-pitched, angry buzzing. More and more of them poured out of the hole in a swelling cloud, reaching out toward the cats like a dark paw.
“Run!” Leafstar screeched.
She pushed the dazed Frecklepaw in front of her as the patrol fled back to the gorge. Her heart pounded as the striped black-and-yellow bodies whirled around her head, and she braced herself for the stab of their vicious stings. The swarm pursued them all the way, a threatening storm that hovered over them, occasionally darting down in a noisy frond to strike. Ebonyclaw let out a yowl as a bee stung her ear, flailing her tail wildly to try to keep them off.
As the patrol bounded over the Rockpile, the cats who still remained in the gorge sprang up in alarm. Clovertail, roused from a doze outside Echosong’s den, let out a terrified wail. Tangle and Lichenfur slid out their claws as if this was an enemy they could attack. Echosong shot out of her den and gazed upward, her fur bristling.
“Into the water!” Leafstar yowled. “Quick!”
As her paws hit the ground at the foot of the Rockpile she launched herself at Tangle and Lichenfur, pushing them into the river. Tangle let out an outraged screech that ended in a splutter as Lichenfur shoved his head under. Echosong was helping Clovertail. Shrewtooth, Ebonyclaw, and Frecklepaw ran into the water without breaking stride and ducked their heads under the surface.
Leafstar followed them, crouching at the edge of the river with just her nose and eyes out of the water. She shivered at the cold touch of the current that threatened to carry her off her paws. Thank StarClan that most of the Clan are out on patrol! And that Fallowfern and her kits are safely in the nursery!
The bees buzzed furiously overhead; Leafstar thought she could hear their frustration that their prey had escaped. They circled around the pool, hovering low over the surface, but there was nothing for them to attack. After what felt like several moons, the swarm bunched together again and flew away.
Leafstar hauled herself out of the pool; her fur felt heavy and water streamed from it, pooling around her paws. The rest of her Clanmates dragged themselves onto the bank; they looked thin and bedraggled with their pelts plastered to their sides.
“What were you trying to drown me for?” Tangle snapped at Lichenfur.
“Next time I’ll let you get stung,” the old she-cat muttered.
Echosong was staring around at the drenched cats, speechless with shock. Leafstar couldn’t understand what was bothering her; she was usually far quicker than this to react to an emergency.
“Hey, what happened?”
The voice came from the other side of the river; Leafstar looked up to see Harveymoon and Macgyver, carrying bundles of moss from the cave and staring down in amazement at their sodden Clanmates.
“Bee attack,” Tangle grunted.
“Bee attack?” Harveymoon echoed, his eyes bulging from his head. “How did that happen?”
“It was an accident, but it’s over now. Take the moss to Fallowfern,” Leafstar told the daylight-warriors. “Tell her to keep her kits in the nursery in case there are any bees hanging around. I’ll come up and see them in a moment.”
As Harveymoon and Macgyver raced off, Leafstar realized that almost all the cats were hurt. Clovertail had a sting dangerously close to her eye; it was swelling fast as she pawed at it with whimpers of pain. Ebonyclaw was circling, trying to reach a bite on her rump, while Shrewtooth was biting at his forepaw in a vain attempt to get the sting out.
Leafstar padded over to Echosong. “Don’t these cats need help?” she prompted, giving the medicine cat a gentle prod on her shoulder.
Echosong jumped. “Yes, of course. Sorry, Leafstar.” She padded forward, beckoning her Clanmates with her tail. “Line up here so I can take your stings out,” she instructed. “Don’t scratch them; you’ll only make it worse. Frecklepaw, are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” the apprentice replied, pattering up.
“Then you can help me. Go into my den and fetch some blackberry leaves.”
Frecklepaw gave herself a good shake, scattering water droplets everywhere, before plunging into Echosong’s den.
Seeing that everything was under control, Leafstar padded away to check on the nursery. “Come and see me later!” Echosong called after her.
Leafstar waved her tail in acknowledgment and headed up the trail. To her relief, none of the swarm had found their way into the nursery.
“It’s not fair!” Plumkit complained. “We never got to see the bees.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to,” Fallowfern assured her. “We’re very lucky that we were safe in here.”
When Leafstar returned to the bottom of the gorge, she discovered that Sharpclaw had returned with his hunting patrol; Shrewtooth was reporting on how Frecklepaw had disturbed the bees.
“It’s a good thing it was no worse,” Sharpclaw commented, glancing over to where Echosong was treating the cats who had been stung. “Do you think we should do something?” he asked Leafstar as she padded up.
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” Leafstar replied, “unless you want to try moving a whole swarm of bees. No, we’ll just have to stay well clear, and reset the border markers to keep all the cats away from the tree.”
Sharpclaw let out an annoyed hiss. “You’re right—but I hate losing territory.”
“Leafstar! Leafstar!” Frecklepaw came bounding over, her eyes wide and troubled, the sharp scent of blackberry leaves clinging to her fur. “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. It was stupid to climb that tree.”
Leafstar touched the apprentice’s shoulder with the tip of her tail. “It wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, but you were right that honey is very useful for Echosong. It’s a pity we can’t get any from there.”
“Next time think before you act, or ask your mentor,”Sharpclaw added, though he didn’t sound as scathing as Leafstar had expected, seeing that he was speaking to a daylight-warrior.
Frecklepaw nodded. “I will, I promise.”
Leafstar glanced toward the medicine cat’s den to see that she had finished treating the injured cats: Shrewtooth was just limping away from her, to flop down beside the river and begin to groom his damp fur.
At least the sun will soon dry us off, Leafstar thought.
She bounded over to the medicine cat’s den as Echosong was heading inside with the remains of the blackberry leaves. “You wanted to talk to me?” she asked.
“Yes, I—” Echosong broke off, staring at Leafstar’s shoulder. “You’ve got a sting in there,” she murmured. “Hold still while I get it out.”
“I never even realized,” Leafstar meowed, while Echosong parted her fur and delicately removed the sting with her teeth.
The medicine cat chewed up some of the blackberry leaves and patted the poultice onto Leafstar’s shoulder. “The bee attack meant something else,” she told Leafstar while her head was still bent over the wound. “It was a sign.”
Leafstar blinked. “What sort of sign? Does it mean that Frecklepaw shouldn’t be a medicine cat?”
Echosong shook her head. “No, it’s more serious than that.” Hesitating, she stared out across the gorge, as if she was seeing something more distant than the cliffs opposite. “It was definitely a sign,” she went on at last, “but I don’t know exactly what it means. Maybe you do.”
She cast a glance at Leafstar as if she was acknowledging that they hadn’t been so close lately, that Leafstar might well know something that she hadn’t shared with her medicine cat. Leafstar couldn’t think of anything to say. She hadn’t been keeping secrets from Echosong, had she? She doesn’t know you saw Billystorm in the Twolegplace last night.
“There is trouble somewhere, far off now. A great battle between cats who believe they are right and cats who believe they have been wronged beyond all measure.” Echosong spoke unexpectedly, in a voice that sounded as if it was coming from far away. “If we don’t act, it will come to us. A force of pain and violence, seething with rage, will come right into the gorge, and there will be no escape, not even the river. Our Clan will be devastated, and the quarrel will become ours.”
Leafstar felt a chill run through her from ears to tail-tip, as if a storm cloud had covered the sun. Echosong, no. Don’t tell me this…
Echosong looked at her leader, her beautiful green eyes troubled. “Does that make any sense to you?” she asked, her voice sounding normal again. “Is there a battle we can fight somewhere else, before it comes to our camp?”