Skyclan’s Destiny

Chapter 1

Floodwater thundered down the gorge, chasing a wall of uprooted trees and bushes as if they were the slenderest twigs. Leafstar stood at the entrance to her den and watched in horror as the current foamed and swirled among the rocks, mounting higher and higher. Rain lashed the surface from bulging black clouds overhead.

Water gurgled into Echosong’s den; though the SkyClan leader strained her eyes through the stormy darkness, she couldn’t see what had happened to the medicine cat. A cat’s shriek cut through the tumult of the water and Leafstar spotted the Clan’s two elders struggling frantically as they were swept out of their den. The two old cats flailed on the surface for a heartbeat and then vanished.

Cherrytail and Patchfoot, heading down the trail with fresh-kill in their jaws, halted in astonishment when they saw the flood. They spun around and fled up the cliff, but the water surged after them and carried them yowling along the gorge. Leafstar lost sight of them as a huge tree, its roots high in the air like claws, rolled between her and the drowning warriors.

Great StarClan, help us! Leafstar prayed. Save my Clan!

Already the floodwater was lapping at the entrance to the nursery. A kit poked its nose out and vanished back inside with a frightened wail. Leafstar bunched her muscles, ready to leap across the rocks and help, but before she could move, a wave higher than the rest licked around her and caught her up, tossing her into the river alongside the splintered trees.

Leafstar fought and writhed against the smothering water, gasping for breath. She coughed as something brittle jabbed inside her open mouth. She opened her eyes and spat out a frond of dried bracken. Her nest was scattered around her den and there were deep claw marks in the floor where she had struggled with the invisible wave. Flicking off a shred of moss that was clinging to one ear, she sat up, panting.

Thank StarClan, it was only a dream!

The SkyClan leader stayed where she was until her heartbeat slowed and she had stopped trembling. The flood had been so real, washing away her Clanmates in front of her eyes…

Sunlight was slanting through the entrance to her den; with a long sigh of relief, Leafstar tottered to her paws and padded onto the ledge outside. Down below, the river wound peacefully between the steep cliffs that enclosed the gorge. As sunhigh approached, light gleamed on the surface of the water and soaked into Leafstar’s brown-and-cream fur; she relaxed her shoulders, enjoying the warmth and the sensation of the gentle breeze that ruffled her pelt.

“It was only a dream,” she repeated to herself, pricking her ears at the twittering of birds in the trees at the top of the gorge. “Newleaf is here, and SkyClan has survived.”

A warm glow of satisfaction flooded through her as she recalled that only a few short moons ago she had been nothing more than Leaf. She had been a loner, responsible for no cat but herself. Then Firestar had appeared: a leader of a Clan from a distant forest, with an amazing story of a lost Clan who had once lived here in the gorge. Firestar had gathered loners and kittypets to revive SkyClan; most astonishing of all, Leaf had been chosen to lead them.

“I’ll never forget the night when the spirits of my ancestors gave me nine lives and made me Leafstar,” she murmured. “My whole world changed. I wonder if you still think about us, Firestar,” she added. “I hope you know that I’ve kept the promises I made to you and my Clanmates.”

Shrill meows from below brought the she-cat back to the present. The Clan was beginning to gather beside the Rockpile, where the underground river flowed into the sunlight for the first time. Shrewtooth, Sparrowpelt, and Cherrytail were crouched down, eating, not far from the fresh-kill pile. Shrewtooth gulped his mouse down quickly, casting suspicious glances at the two younger warriors. Leafstar remembered how a border patrol had caught the black tom spying on the Clan two moons ago, terrified and half-starving. They had persuaded him to move into the warriors’ den, but he was still finding it hard to fit into Clan life.

I’ll have to do something to make him understand that he is among friends now, Leafstar decided. He’s more nervous than a cornered mouse.

The two Clan elders, Lichenfur and Tangle, were sharing tongues on a flat rock warmed by the sun. They looked content; Tangle was a bad-tempered old rogue who stopped in the gorge now and again to eat before going back to his den in the forest, but he seemed to get on fine with Lichenfur, and Leafstar hoped she would convince him to stay permanently in the camp.

Lichenfur had lived alone in the woods farther up the gorge, aware of the new Clan but staying clear of them. She had almost died when she had been caught in a fox trap, until a patrol had found her and brought her back to camp for healing. After that she had been glad to give up the life of a loner. “She has wisdom to teach the Clan,” Leafstar mewed softly from the ledge. “Every Clan needs its elders.”

The loud squeals she could hear were coming from Bouncepaw, Tinypaw, and Rockpaw, who were chasing one another in a tight circle, their fur bristling with excitement. As Leafstar watched, their mother, Clovertail, padded up to them, her whiskers twitching anxiously. Leafstar couldn’t hear what she said, but the apprentices skidded to a halt; Clovertail beckoned Tinypaw with a flick of her tail, and started to give her face a thorough wash. Leafstar purred with amusement as the young white she-cat wriggled under the swipes of her mother’s rough tongue, while Clovertail’s eyes shone with pride.

Pebbles pattering down beside her startled Leafstar. Looking up, she saw Patchfoot heading down the rocky trail with a squirrel clamped firmly in his jaws. Waspwhisker followed him, with his apprentice, Mintpaw, a paw step behind; they both carried mice. Leafstar gave a little nod of approval as the hunting patrol passed her. Prey was becoming more plentiful with the warmer weather, and the fresh-kill pile was swelling. She pictured Waspwhisker when he had first joined the Clan during the first snowfall of leaf-bare: a lost kittypet wailing with cold and hunger as he blundered along the gorge. Now the gray-and-white tom was one of the most skillful hunters in the Clan, with an apprentice of his own. He even had kits, with another former stray named Fallowfern.

SkyClan is growing.

As their father padded past, Waspwhisker’s four kits bounced out of the nursery and scampered behind him, squeaking. Their mother, Fallowfern, emerged more slowly and edged her way down the trail after them; she still wasn’t completely comfortable with the sheer cliff face and pointed rocks that surrounded SkyClan’s camp.

“Be careful!” she called. “Don’t fall!”

The kits had already reached the bottom of the gorge, getting under their father’s paws, cuffing one another over the head and rolling over perilously near to the pool. Waspwhisker gently nudged the pale brown tom, Nettlekit, away from the edge.

But as soon as their father turned away to drop his prey on the fresh-kill pile, Nettlekit’s sister, Plumkit, jumped on him. Nettlekit swiped at her, as if he was trying to copy a battle move he’d seen when the apprentices were training. Plumkit rolled over; Nettlekit staggered, lost his balance, and toppled into the river.

Fallowfern let out a wail. “Nettlekit!”

Stifling a gasp, Leafstar sprang to her paws, but she was too far away to do anything. Fallowfern leaped swiftly from boulder to boulder, but Waspwhisker was faster still, plunging into the pool after his kit. Leafstar lost sight of them for a few heartbeats. She watched the other Clan cats huddled at the water’s edge—all except for Shrewtooth, who paced up and down the bank, his tail lashing in agitation. Leafstar purred with relief when she saw Waspwhisker hauling himself out of the river with Nettlekit clamped firmly in his jaws. The tiny tom’s paws flailed until his father set him down on the rock. Then he shook himself, spattering every cat with shining drops of water. Fallowfern pounced on him and started to lick his pelt, but Nettlekit struggled away from her and hurled himself straight at Plumkit.

“I’ll teach you to push me in the river!” he squealed.

“I did not push you! You fell in, so there!” Plumkit yowled back. She crouched down and leaped forward to meet her littermate in midair. The two kits tussled together in a knot of fur while their parents, looking frustrated, tried to separate them.

Leafstar glanced over her shoulder at the sound of paw steps approaching from farther down the gorge and saw Echosong with a bundle of herbs in her mouth. The young medicine cat’s soft fur shone in the sunlight, reminding Leafstar that not long ago she had been a kittypet. But now she moved confidently over the stony ground, her pads hardened by her time in the gorge, and she had the lean, muscular strength of a Clan cat.

Echosong looked up at her Clan leader. “Greetings, Leafstar!” she called, her voice blurred by the herbs.

“Greetings!” Leafstar meowed back to her. “We’ll start the warrior ceremony soon.”

Echosong acknowledged her words with a wave of her tail, and vanished into her den near the bottom of the cliff to add the herbs to her store.

“Are you ready?”

Leafstar started as a voice spoke at her shoulder, and spun around to see her deputy, Sharpclaw, standing behind her. She hadn’t noticed his silent approach. “Oh, it’s you,” she meowed. “You frightened my fur off, creeping up on me like that!”

The dark ginger tom narrowed his eyes in amusement. “Nothing frightens your fur off, Leafstar.” With a glance at the sky, he added, “It’s sunhigh. When are you going to start the ceremony?”

“I’m waiting for the others,” Leafstar explained.

Sharpclaw’s amusement vanished and he flicked his tail. “You should carry on without them,” he meowed impatiently.

Leafstar twitched one ear in surprise, and saw a defensive look come into her deputy’s eyes.

“We never know when they’re going to turn up,” he persisted. “And there are three young cats down there ready to burst with excitement.”

Glancing at the Rockpile again, Leafstar saw that he was right. Bouncepaw and Rockpaw were circling each other as if they were about to start battle training, while Tinypaw bounced up and down on the spot, too anxious to sit still. Their shrill mews floated up to Leafstar.

“Very well.” Leafstar dipped her head. “We’ll start now.”

With one more glance at the top of the gorge, she led the way down the trail to the Rockpile. As she and Sharpclaw approached, their Clanmates parted to let them through. Leafstar bunched her muscles and sprang to the top of the rocks, while Sharpclaw took his place at the base, not far from the fresh-kill pile. From the Rockpile, Leafstar looked down at her deputy’s broad shoulders, and felt a stab of gratitude for his courage and loyalty.

He’s a good deputy. Firestar advised me well.

Leafstar raised her head and let her yowl echo throughout the gorge. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!”

Sagepaw shot out of the apprentices’ den and raced down the trail to join his littermate, Mintpaw, at the foot of the Rockpile. They settled down, tails twitching, not far from Sharpclaw and Waspwhisker. Sagepaw’s mentor, Petalnose, emerged from the warriors’ den and padded down to sit beside her apprentice. Patchfoot sat beside Clovertail, who was heavy with his kits; the she-cat leaned over and touched his ear with her nose, but her attention stayed fixed on the three apprentices.

Leafstar suppressed a sigh when she saw how Shrewtooth edged away as the other warriors approached. He peered around nervously as if he thought the gorge was full of enemies and then skittered down to the very edge of the stream, where he sat, darting anxious glances around him.

He’s lived in the warriors’ den for three moons, Leafstar thought, her claws kneading the rock in exasperation. Doesn’t he know by now that no cat will bite his tail off?

She wondered—not for the first time—what had happened in Shrewtooth’s past to make him so troubled, but she didn’t have time to worry about him right then. The black tom would confide in her when he was ready, and meanwhile she had a warrior ceremony to conduct. Glancing around, Leafstar saw that almost all the Clan had assembled. She wondered briefly what was keeping Echosong, but in the same heartbeat the young medicine cat appeared from her den, the sweet scent of herbs drifting up from her pelt. She sat down beside Petalnose and looked expectantly up at the Rockpile.

“Cats of SkyClan,” Leafstar began, “today we gather for one of the most important ceremonies in the life of a Clan: the naming of new warriors. Bouncepaw, Tinypaw, Rockpaw,” she added with a wave of her tail, “come and stand here beneath the Rockpile.”

The three young cats rose to their paws and padded forward, eyes sparkling and whiskers twitching with anticipation. Clovertail gave Rockpaw a final lick as he passed her, though a tuft of black fur still stood straight up on his head, while one of Bouncepaw’s ears was folded back on itself. His littermate Tinypaw gave it a quick flick with her tail to turn it right side out.

Their three mentors also rose and stood together a couple of tail-lengths away. Leafstar looked down at them, the solemnity of the moment surging over her like a wave. She knew that even if she led her Clan for season after season, she would never fail to feel the wonder of presenting new cats to StarClan. Besides, these three cats were special: the first warriors of SkyClan who had been born in the gorge.

“Patchfoot,” Leafstar began, “has your apprentice, Bouncepaw, learned the skills of a warrior? Has he studied the warrior code and understood what it means to every cat?”

The black-and-white tom glanced proudly at his apprentice as he replied, “Yes, Leafstar.”

“And so has Rockpaw,” Cherrytail added.

Leafstar dipped her head in acknowledgment; she wished Cherrytail had waited to be questioned in her turn, but Rockpaw’s mentor looked almost as excited as her apprentice, and there was no point in scolding her.

“Sparrowpelt,” Leafstar went on, “are you satisfied that your apprentice, Tinypaw, has learned the skills of a warrior and the importance of the warrior code?”

“Yes, Leafstar,” Sparrowpelt replied. “She is ready to become a warrior.”

With a purr of satisfaction, Leafstar leaped down from the Rockpile and stood in front of the three young cats. Their eyes stretched even wider as their leader raised her head and addressed StarClan.

“I, Leafstar, leader of SkyClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these three apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.”

A shiver went through Leafstar as she remembered the ranks of starry cats who had stood around her when she received her nine lives and her name. Are they watching me now? Will they protect these young warriors until it’s their turn to walk among the stars?

“Bouncepaw, Tinypaw, Rockpaw,” Leafstar went on, “do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”

Bouncepaw gave a huge gulp and replied, “I do.”

“I do.” Rockpaw’s voice rang out clearly.

Tinypaw blinked; her eyes were deep blue pools as she too replied, “I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior names. Bouncepaw, from this moment you will be known as Bouncefire. StarClan honors your energy and your loyalty, and we welcome you as a full member of SkyClan.”

Leafstar rested her muzzle on the top of Bouncefire’s head, and the young ginger tom licked her shoulder. Then he took a couple of paces back to stand with the other warriors.

“Rockpaw,” Leafstar went on, “from this moment you will be known as Rockshade. StarClan honors your courage and your strength, and we welcome you as a full member of SkyClan.”

The black tom closed his eyes briefly as Leafstar rested her muzzle on his head, then licked her shoulder and withdrew to stand beside his brother. Tinypaw was left alone in front of her Clan leader; Leafstar could see that the little white she-cat was quivering with anticipation.

“Tinypaw,” she meowed, “from this moment you will be known as Tinycloud. StarClan honors your intelligence and enthusiasm, and we welcome you as a full member of SkyClan.” She rested her muzzle on Tinycloud’s head and felt the rasp of her tongue before she moved away to join her littermates.

“Bouncefire! Rockshade! Tinycloud!” The whole Clan raised their voices to welcome the three new warriors. Leafstar looked on proudly as her Clanmates crowded around to offer congratulations.

“Tinycloud!” The white she-cat’s voice rose indignantly above the rest. “I’m not tiny anymore. I thought I’d be big enough to have a different name.”

A murmur of amusement ran through the cats around her. Clovertail padded up to her and gave her a comforting lick on her ear. “You’ll always be tiny to me,” she purred.

Leafstar could see that the small white cat still wasn’t convinced; Bouncefire and Rockshade both looked thrilled with their new names, but there was a shadow of hurt in their sister’s eyes.

The Clan leader slipped through the crowd of cats until she stood in front of Tinycloud. “Your name may be tiny but your spirit is not,” she murmured. “One day the name of Tinycloud will be honored by your Clanmates, and all the Clanmates to come.”

Tinycloud stared at her. “Do you really think so?”

Leafstar nodded. “It’s up to you to do great things that will be remembered forever. Your name has nothing to do with what you choose to do.”

“I’ll do my best to be a great warrior,” she promised earnestly.

Leafstar touched Tinycloud’s shoulder with the tip of her muzzle. “I know you will.”

While she was still speaking, Waspwhisker’s four kits bundled past and crowded around their mother, Fallowfern.

“We want to be apprentices!” Nettlekit announced.

Fallowfern stroked him gently with her tail. “One day you will be,” she promised. “But not yet. You’re too young.”

“No, we’re not!” Nettlekit’s sister, Plumkit, pushed forward to face her mother. “We’re three whole moons old!”

“But to be an apprentice you have to be six moons,” her mother reminded her.

Plumkit’s eyes clouded with dismay.

“But that’s forever!” her brother Rabbitkit wailed. “We don’t want to wait that long.”

“That’s right,” the fourth kit, Creekkit, added. “We want to learn how to be warriors now!”

Fallowfern gazed at Leafstar over the heads of her kits. Her eyes were half-amused, half-helpless. “What do I do with them?” she asked.

Leafstar twitched her whiskers. “They’ll be apprenticed soon enough,” she mewed. “Then their mentors will have to deal with them.”

Fallowfern heaved a long sigh. “I can’t wait!” But Leafstar saw that her gaze was full of affection as she watched the wriggling kits.

Nettlekit popped his head up. “Plumkit pushed me in the river!” he complained. “I was all wet for the ceremony.”

“Did not!” Plumkit protested. “You were showing off and you fell in.”

“That’s enough,” Fallowfern mewed sharply. “Nettlekit, Plumkit, I don’t want to hear another squeak from either of you.”

Plumkit glared at her brother. “Clovertail, he says I pushed him!” she wailed, padding up to the light brown she-cat. “And I didn’t! He was just showing off. He should know he can’t do that fighting move yet.”

“I know.” Clovertail bent her head to lick the dark gray kit’s ear. “Accidents happen. And there was no harm done. Nettlekit is fine.”

Leafstar was impressed by Clovertail’s soothing words. She remembered what the she-cat had been like when she first joined SkyClan—lazy, spoiled, and selfish, and interested in Clan life only for the protection it offered herself and her kits. But since then she had become like a mother to all the cats, always ready with comfort and advice. She would never be a great hunter or fighter, but she kept the nursery clean and well ordered.

And I don’t know how Fallowfern would manage without her, looking after that rowdy lot!

“Come on,” Clovertail urged, gathering the four kits together with her tail. “Let’s go back to the nursery, and I’ll tell you all about the time Firestar came to the gorge.”

“Yes!” Creekkit exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. “That’s the best story!”

As Clovertail and the kits headed up the trail, Leafstar gazed proudly at her Clan. Sharpclaw was sitting in a patch of sunlight, grooming his dark ginger fur with long, smooth strokes of his tongue. The three new warriors were bunched together in an excited huddle, while their former mentors chose prey from the fresh-kill pile and settled down to eat it.

Petalnose waved her tail at Waspwhisker. “Come on, let’s give our apprentices some battle practice.”

“Great!” Sagepaw yowled, and raced off up the gorge. His sister, Mintpaw, took off after him in a whirl of dust, followed more slowly by the two mentors.

Leafstar let out a sigh of pride and satisfaction. Her Clan had survived the long leaf-bare, and the battle with the rats was fading from memory.

But we’ll never forget Rainfur. The gray tom, Sagepaw and Mintpaw’s father, had fought valiantly on behalf of the Clan he had belonged to for such a short time. He would always be remembered as the first warrior to give his life for the newly restored SkyClan.

And now SkyClan is strong in the gorge, thanks to Firestar and Sandstorm.

Leafstar’s thoughts drifted back through countless seasons, to the Clan who had lived there before and left their claw marks in the warriors’ den. She wished so often that she could know more about them. The last remnant of that long-ago Clan was Skywatcher, the old gray tom who had been nicknamed Moony, ridiculed and called mad by the cats who were now Leafstar’s loyal warriors. He had nurtured the memory of SkyClan like a tiny flame, until Firestar came to fan it into brilliant, blazing life. Leafstar raised her head to gaze at the Skyrock, where the Clan gathered at the full moon. There are so many of us now that some cats have to sit on the main part of the cliff. She caught her breath as she made out a faint gray shape against the drifting white clouds.

Skywatcher!

Warmth filled the Clan leader as she realized that the old cat had come back to see the ceremony for the first warriors who were born in the gorge. She raised her tail in greeting, hoping that all the SkyClan ancestors were looking down from StarClan, and were proud of their descendants, and those who had decided to become Clan cats.

“We will honor you always,” she murmured, her gaze still fixed on Skywatcher’s faint outline. “And we will do everything we can to keep your Clan alive.”