Starlight

Chapter 5

When Brambleclaw had finished speaking and leaped down from the tree stump, Leafpaw looked around for Squirrelflight. She was dying to hear about their new territory, and to know if her sister had found any useful herbs.

She spotted Sorreltail and bounded over. “Have you seen Squirrelflight?”

The tortoiseshell warrior shook her head.

Leafpaw was about to keep looking when a sharp pang sliced through her like a claw. She caught her breath, tucking her nose against her chest to take away the pain. Something was wrong with Squirrelflight, something was troubling her, but Leafpaw had no idea what it might be. The patrol had come safely home, and it sounded as if there were territories for all the Clans around the lake, so why should Squirrelflight feel such a jolting mixture of shock and anger?

“Are you okay?” Sorreltail asked.

“What? Oh, yes, fine. I just need to ask Squirrelflight something.” Leafpaw tried to speak calmly, but her voice shook. Luckily there was so much noise around them that Sorreltail didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ll help you look,” she offered. “I can’t wait to hear about our new home!”

Leafpaw nodded, and began to weave her way through the other cats, searching for the familiar dark ginger pelt. She felt a rush of relief when she spotted her sister with some other ThunderClan cats, her tail waving animatedly as she explained something to them. There certainly didn’t seem to be anything wrong now—but Leafpaw knew she hadn’t mis-taken the lightning strike of anger and dismay that had jolted through her.

She padded over with Sorreltail beside her.

“It’s a stone hollow, with walls all around,” Squirrelflight was mewing. “There’s plenty of space inside for dens, the nursery, even a training area.”

She was doing a great job of sounding normal, but as she drew closer, Leafpaw could feel waves of unhappiness coming from her. Squirrelflight’s eyes were too wide, too bright, and she kept looking around as if trying to spot a cat who wasn’t there. After a moment Leafpaw realized that the missing cat must be Brambleclaw. She guessed he was talking to other members of the Clan.

“Is this hollow empty?” Dustpelt asked. He was sitting in front of Squirrelflight with Ferncloud at his side; their one surviving kit, Birchkit, was rolling around in the grass with Tallpoppy’s three kits, all far too excited to sleep. “It would be just like you, Squirrelflight, to expect us to camp in a badger’s set.”

Squirrelflight’s tail curled up indignantly. “Dustpelt, I promise I’ll eat any badgers you find in there. Foxes, too. We didn’t scent anything like that.”

Dustpelt grunted.

“I think it sounds great.” Brightheart stepped up to Squirrelflight and pressed her muzzle against the younger warrior’s side. “How did you find it?”

“I… well, I fell into it,” Squirrelflight admitted.

Cloudtail let out a snort of laughter. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Now look—” Squirrelflight spun around to face the white warrior, but before she could say any more a yowl rose into the air.

“Cats of all Clans!”

Leafpaw turned to see that Cinderpelt had climbed onto the stump, the moonlight turning her gray fur to silver. She signaled with her tail for silence, and the excited mewing gradually died away.

“Before we separate and go into our own territories,” the ThunderClan medicine cat meowed, “we must decide where we’re going to hold the next Gathering. StarClan will expect us to meet together when full moon comes.”

“But where?” asked Russetfur, the ShadowClan deputy.

“Did the patrols find anywhere like Fourtrees?”

Mistyfoot, who was sitting near the base of the stump, rose to her paws. “No,” she replied, raising her voice so all the Clans could hear her. “Nowhere like that. But we didn’t have time to explore everywhere properly.”

“StarClan will show us a place.” Littlecloud spoke up from where he was sitting beside Russetfur and Blackstar.

“They might have shown us already.” Mothwing sprang to her paws, her blue eyes shining. She began to describe the island close to the shore of the lake. “It’s safe, sheltered, and not too far away. Perfect for Gatherings,” she finished.

“But we’d have to swim to get there!” The protest came from Mousefur, a ThunderClan warrior. “I’m not swimming in that lake every full moon, not if StarClan themselves come down and beg me.”

“And what about the elders?” croaked Runningnose, the former ShadowClan medicine cat.

A chorus of agreement rose up. Leafpaw glanced worriedly from one face to another. Even though she had her own doubts about gathering on the island, she couldn’t think of a better option. But she didn’t see a single cat who showed any enthusiasm for Mothwing’s suggestion.

Hawkfrost padded over to stand next to Mothwing.

Dipping his head politely to Cinderpelt, he meowed, “May I suggest that I take a patrol of RiverClan cats to explore the island more fully? If the Clans can’t use it for Gatherings, it sounds like the ideal place for the RiverClan camp.”

Almost before he had finished speaking, Mistyfoot took a pace toward him. “I already told you where RiverClan are going to camp,” she mewed quietly, the fur on her neck bristling. “There’s a place where two streams meet, not far from the lake, with trees for shelter, and no sign that Twolegs come near, even in greenleaf.”

“But think how safe the island would be,” Hawkfrost pointed out. “We’d have a lake full of fish right outside our dens. Have you thought that your choice of camp might be too open? And that Thunderpath you mentioned can’t be far away.”

Mistyfoot bristled. “Are you questioning my judgment? I know what my Clan needs.”

Hawkfrost curled his lip, and Leafpaw tensed, half expecting the two RiverClan warriors to leap at each other.

“Enough!” The word, spat out, came from behind Leafpaw.

She turned to see Leopardstar stalking up to her quarreling warriors. “Do you want to shame RiverClan?”

Hawkfrost stepped back, and the fur on Mistyfoot’s shoulders lay flat, though Leafpaw could tell it took some effort.

“Hawkfrost, you can take a patrol to the island if you wish,” Leopardstar went on. “We’ll make a decision about where to site the camp when you come back.”

“Of course, Leopardstar,” Hawkfrost meowed, dipping his head. “I’ll pick some other cats and leave as soon as it gets light.” He stepped back, and was instantly surrounded by his Clanmates, all clamoring to come with him to the island.

Leafpaw shivered. It had been strange to see such an open challenge to Mistyfoot’s authority. Hawkfrost must feel very confident of his place within the Clan if he dared to pick a fight with his deputy in front of his leader as well as the other Clans.

Leafpaw thought she could see the same concern in her mentor’s blue eyes as Cinderpelt called for silence again. “So,” she meowed, “where shall we meet for the next Gathering?”

“We’ll have to come back here,” Firestar decided. “Unless StarClan shows us a different place before the next full moon.”

Mudclaw turned to face Firestar. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’re much too close to that Twoleg nest on the other side of the horseplace.”

“That can’t be helped,” Blackstar replied, and Firestar nodded.

“We’ve been here for two days and nights now, and we haven’t had so much as a sniff of a Twoleg. But if you have a better idea, let’s hear it.”

Mudclaw lashed his tail. “Suit yourself,” he snarled. “The great Firestar’s word is law, as always.”

The cats began to slip away from the tree stump, back into the shadows. Ferncloud signaled with her tail for Birchkit to come to her. “It’s time you got some sleep, little one. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

Birchkit abandoned his play fight with Tallpoppy’s kits and bounced over. “Can Toadkit and Applekit and Marshkit come too?” he asked.

“No, we belong to ShadowClan,” Tallpoppy explained gently. “We’ll have our own territory now.”

“But that’s not fair!” Birchkit wailed, and all four kits clustered together, gazing at the two queens with huge, pleading eyes. “If they can’t come, I don’t want to go.”

Leafpaw flinched. They were so innocent! They had no idea how different their lives had been from the lives of their older Clanmates. Their earliest memories would be the horror of starving in the forest, every cat fearing for its life, until they found new friends when the Clans came together for the exhausting trek through the mountains. They had no sense of Clan rivalry, or the importance of being a warrior in the service of one Clan alone. They probably hardly knew there were four Clans at all.

“Don’t be so silly.” Ferncloud padded over to her kit and gave his ears a sympathetic lick. “That’s the warrior code.

When you’re apprentices you’ll meet again at Gatherings.”

“It won’t be the same,” Toadkit muttered, with a mutinous look at his mother.

“And there are no other ThunderClan kits for me to play with,” Birchkit added sadly.

Ferncloud and Tallpoppy looked at each other, and Leafpaw saw genuine regret in their eyes—it wasn’t just their kits who had made strong friendships across Clan boundaries.

Finally Tallpoppy dipped her head and gathered her three kits around her with a sweep of her tail. “Say good-bye now,” she mewed briskly.

“Good-bye,” Toadkit and Marshkit chorused, while Applekit darted up to Birchkit and touched her nose to his.

“Good-bye.” Birchkit stared after his friends as they padded away, and then turned to follow his mother, his tail drooping.

Leafpaw felt her heart ache for the lonely kit, and for all the cats who would miss friends they had made in other Clans. A couple of tail-lengths away she spotted Thornclaw saying good-bye to Ashfoot and Onewhisker from WindClan; he jumped guiltily when he saw Leafpaw watching, as if he felt he had been disloyal to his Clan by becoming friends with them.

“It’s okay,” Leafpaw meowed, padding over to touch noses with the ThunderClan warrior. “It’s hard to give up new friends like this.” I’m one of the lucky ones, she thought gratefully.

I can still be friends with Mothwing. Clan divisions weren’t so important to medicine cats, especially where the other medicine cats were concerned.

She decided to go and ask Cinderpelt if there was anything she could do to help the cats prepare for tomorrow. As she wove her way through the other cats, she came across Crowfeather standing over a WindClan elder, a skinny tom with creamy brown fur, who was comfortably curled up in a nest of dry leaves underneath a tree.

“Look, Rushtail,” Crowfeather was meowing frustratedly, “WindClan is gathering farther down the hill. If you stay here, you’ll get mixed up with ThunderClan.”

“So? ThunderClan never did me any harm,” rasped the elder. “I’m not moving a pawstep from here, young fellow, until I’ve had something to eat.”

Crowfeather rolled his eyes. “Great StarClan!”

“Can I help?” Leafpaw offered, wondering if Rushtail was being stubborn, or if he really felt too weak to move. She might be able to find some herbs that would help restore his strength, like the traveling herbs they used to eat before journeying to the Moonstone.

But when Crowfeather turned around to face her, his eyes were cold. “I don’t need help from ThunderClan, thanks,” he mewed curtly.

“I’m sorry.” Leafpaw took a step back, struggling not to show how cross she was that he was refusing her help for no good reason. “I only thought—”

“Take it easy, Crowfeather.” Leafpaw felt a light touch on her shoulder and glanced around to see Squirrelflight.

“There’s no need to be so prickly,” her sister added to the WindClan warrior.

Crowfeather dug his claws agitatedly into the ground.

“Our journey’s over, Squirrelflight,” he meowed. “We have to remember we belong to different Clans now.”

Squirrelflight snorted. “You always were a difficult furball, Crowfeather. But I won’t stop you if you’re determined to make everything harder than it needs to be. Just watch it when you talk to my sister, that’s all.”

Crowfeather looked back at Leafpaw and muttered something that might have been an apology. “But I can manage Rushtail on my own, thanks,” he added.

Just before she left, Leafpaw saw him bend over the elder again. “Rushtail, if I fetch you some fresh-kill, will you move then?”

“I might.” The old tom settled himself more comfortably and closed his eyes. “As long as it’s good and plump.”

“Leafpaw, are you coming?” Squirrelflight called.

Leafpaw turned to see Sorreltail bounding over to her.

“Was that Crowfeather?” she asked. “His tongue’s as sharp as a fox’s teeth. Is he giving you trouble? I’ll sort him out for you.” Her amber eyes gleamed with anticipation.

“No, he’s fine.” Leafpaw touched her friend’s shoulder with the tip of her tail.

Glancing back to where Crowfeather had disappeared in search of fresh-kill, she knew that was not entirely true. But she could not think of any herb that would heal his broken heart.