Alderpaw dozed uneasily, only to rouse again as he felt a paw prodding him gently in the shoulder. He opened his eyes; there was just enough light for him to see Sparkpaw staring down at him.
“Shh!” she whispered. “We need to go—now.”
Alderpaw blinked at her. “What are you talking about?”
“The rogues are asleep,” Sparkpaw murmured, “but who knows for how long? The sun will be up soon. This is the best chance we’ll have.”
Alderpaw staggered to his paws, stretching his jaws in a massive yawn. As he arched his back, stretching his cramped body, he saw
Molewhisker and Cherryfall standing just behind his sister. Needlepaw, looking unusually hesitant, was waiting near the entrance to the den.
“I think this is a bad idea,” she mumbled. “If they catch us—”
Molewhisker brushed his tail across her shoulder. “We’ll just have to make sure they don’t,” he said.
Needlepaw’s head drooped in reluctant agreement as Molewhisker turned to the others and jerked his head to signal they should move.
He led the way out into the open. A couple of tail-lengths away, Raven was sleeping with her tail curled over her nose. Alderpaw guessed she would be in trouble with Darktail when he woke up.
Silently the questing cats wove their way among the rocks, heading toward the water’s edge. Alderpaw’s pelt prickled as he imagined rogue cats looking out from the dens in the cliff face and spotting their stealthy movement.
But no warning yowls split the dawn silence.
Eventually they reached the river and turned downstream. Molewhisker picked up the pace until they were loping swiftly over the rocks.
Alderpaw shivered in the damp, chilly air; the sky was covered with cloud, and there was no sign of where the sun would rise.
Before they had gone very far, they came to a spot where a spur of rock jutted out from the cliff. The river curled around it, running fast and deep.
“Mouse dung!” Molewhisker muttered as he scrambled up to the top of the rock. “Can’t we ever get out of this filthy place?”
Alderpaw struggled up after him, driving his claws into tiny cracks and feeling the grit digging into his pads. To his relief, the rock sloped down more gently on the other side, and he was able to slide down easily to stand beside
Molewhisker.
“At least now we can’t be seen from the camp,” Cherryfall mewed as the others joined them.
“We still have to get a move on,” Molewhisker commented. “Don’t forget that the rogues can follow our scent.”
“Then maybe we should cross the river,” Alderpaw suggested. “That would break our scent and make it harder for Darktail and the rest to follow us. It would give us a better chance of getting clear.”
“Good idea,” Cherryfall responded. “Let’s look for a place to cross.”
But as Molewhisker swung into motion again, Sparkpaw hung back.
“What’s the matter?” Molewhisker asked, a trace of irritation in his voice.
“I’m wondering if we should leave,” Sparkpaw replied hesitantly. “StarClan sent us here, and we haven’t found SkyClan. Maybe we should stay close by and look for them.”
“We can’t help SkyClan now,” Alderpaw responded grimly, even though he admired his littermate for her courage in making the suggestion. “We have no idea where they’ve gone. And if we try to stay in the woods, Darktail and his rogues will surely find us.
Maybe when we get home, Bramblestar will have some idea of what we can do to help
SkyClan, but this quest…” He paused, willing his voice not to shake. “This quest is a failure.
The best we can do is get home safely.”
“He’s right,” Cherryfall meowed, touching her apprentice sympathetically on her shoulder.
“We did everything we could, but we can’t save SkyClan right now.”
Sparkpaw sighed, nodding. “I guess so.”
Molewhisker took the lead again, padding along at the edge of the river. Alderpaw looked out for a place where it would be safe to cross, but it was still too dark to tell how deep the water was, and it was rushing past quickly, a tumbling current that could easily sweep a cat away.
RiverClan cats swim, he thought with a shudder. But we’re not RiverClan cats, and I don’t want to try it.
“There are trees farther downstream,” Sparkpaw pointed out, as if she shared her brother’s thoughts. “Maybe there’ll be a way to cross there.”
Cherryfall gave a brisk nod. “Good idea.
Let’s hurry. The sun will be up soon, and the rogues will be waking.”
She set off, bounding toward the trees, and the others followed. The first trees they reached were small and spindly, and too far away from the water to be any help in crossing.
Alderpaw had hoped for a fallen tree trunk, like the one that the Clans used to cross the lake for Gatherings, but the only log he spotted was wedged at an angle into the bank, the far end jutting out into the current.
A little farther on, bigger trees began to appear, interspersed by bushes. “This would be a good place to hunt,” Sparkpaw panted as she hurried along beside her brother.
“No time,” Alderpaw gasped in response.
“My belly feels so empty!” Sparkpaw complained. “I wish—”
“Look! Over there!” Cherryfall’s voice interrupted Sparkpaw. She ran up to a tree that was leaning toward the river; its long branches hung over the water, stretching almost as far as the opposite side. “This is perfect!”
As he bounded closer, Alderpaw thought the tree looked dangerous, but he didn’t object.
Crossing here was obviously their best chance of avoiding the rogues.
“Hmm… ,” Molewhisker murmured, sizing up the tree with an intent gaze. “Those branches might be long enough. And if our scent disappears here, Darktail might think that we fell into the river and got swept away.”
“It’s worth a try,” Alderpaw agreed, though his belly was churning with apprehension.
“I’ll go first,” Sparkpaw volunteered, climbing swiftly up the slanting trunk of the tree, then edging out onto one of the longest branches. “Come on—it’s okay!”
As Sparkpaw ventured farther out over the river, Molewhisker followed her up the trunk, with Cherryfall hard on his paws. Alderpaw managed to tear his gaze away from his sister’s progress to peer upstream and check that none of the rogues had appeared in pursuit. Although the dawn light was gradually strengthening, there was no sign of movement.
I suppose it’s too much to hope that they won’t come…
“You next!” Needlepaw’s voice drew
Alderpaw’s attention back to the tree.
By now Sparkpaw had almost reached the point where she would have to leap from the branch to the far bank of the river. Molewhisker and Cherryfall were close behind her. Alderpaw hardly dared watch as they balanced precariously on the narrow branch.
“No, you go first,” he mewed to Needlepaw.
“I’ll keep lookout.”
Needlepaw looked reluctant, but after a moment’s hesitation she shrugged. “If you say so.” She scrambled up the tree trunk with a whisk of her tail and headed out along the branch.
With no reason to delay any longer, Alderpaw followed. It was easy to clamber up the leaning trunk, and when he crept out onto the branch, it felt sturdy enough under his paws.
But the weight of the cats up ahead made it dip low, toward the water.
It would have been smarter to go one by one, Alderpaw thought, digging his claws in hard, but we don’t have time for that.
His belly lurched as he saw Sparkpaw crouch and bunch her muscles, ready for the leap onto the bank. The branch bounced wildly as she took off, and Alderpaw let out a yelp of fear as he almost lost his grip. A moment later he drew in a long breath of relief as he saw his littermate land safely on the opposite bank.
Within the next few heartbeats Molewhisker and Cherryfall joined her.
Just ahead of Alderpaw, Needlepaw edged forward, a mouse-length at a time, then halted, gripping the branch grimly with her claws. The branch was dipping and bending dangerously under her weight.
“Keep going!” Alderpaw urged her.
Needlepaw glanced back over her shoulder.
“I’m scared of falling into the water,” she hissed. “Okay?”
“You’ll be fine,” Alderpaw meowed. “Better than if the rogues catch up with us!”
But as soon as Needlepaw started edging forward again, the branch started to groan and creak. So frozen by fear that he could hardly move, Alderpaw started to back up. But he was too late. He heard a tearing sound as the branch gave way, and a screech of terror from Needlepaw, abruptly cut off as the two cats plunged into the freezing cold stream.
Alderpaw flailed his legs in the surging water, terrified as the cold, unfamiliar touch enfolded him. The current was so fast that he was swept away, not knowing which way was up.
A heavy, rushing pressure filled his ears, and when he tried to open his eyes, he was blinded by dark water. Desperately he kicked and kicked, pain growing in his chest until he thought he would lose consciousness.
Then his head broke the surface. Gratefully he took a gulp of air and thrashed his legs with the flow of the current to keep himself afloat.
He glanced around to see if he could spot
Needlepaw, but there was no sign of her.
It’s still too dark to see much, he thought, hoping that she was somewhere near him in this chaos of water.
He strained his ears to catch her cries, or calls from his Clanmates on the bank, but the river rushing in his ears cut off all other sounds.
The current seemed to be moving faster than ever. Looking ahead, Alderpaw saw the tumbled surface abruptly come to an end, with nothing but gloomy sky beyond. The roaring in his ears grew louder.
A waterfall!
Alderpaw knew that he had to reach the bank. He kicked out across the current, struggling to drag himself to safety, but the force of the water was too strong.
I’m not going to make it. This is where I’m going to die.
Then Alderpaw felt his forepaw snag on something jutting out of the water. Somehow the contact pulled him toward the bank, and as the surge lifted him for a heartbeat, he realized he was clinging to Needlepaw.
The sight of the bank so close gave Alderpaw fresh hope. “Keep going!” he gasped to Needlepaw. “We can do it!”
But however hard the two cats fought, the river was stronger. Alderpaw glimpsed the smooth curve of the water as it reached the falls and let out a yelp of alarm as he realized he was going over.
He found himself falling, torn away from Needlepaw, his body tossed and thrown about by the waterfall. His panic-stricken yowl was cut off as he slammed down onto the surface below and all the breath was driven out of his body.
Everything went black as Alderpaw sank deep into the water. Then light seared his eyes as he bobbed back up to the surface, dazed and struggling feebly, surprised that he was still alive. Something shoved him hard at the back of his neck, propelling him toward the bank. Soon he felt his paws touch mud, and he hauled himself upward, clambering clear of the water.
Turning, he saw Needlepaw dragging herself out after him, her fur plastered to her body.
Alderpaw collapsed onto his belly, his flanks heaving and shivering with cold, and with relief at having survived. Needlepaw sank down beside him.
Catching his breath at last, Alderpaw strained to catch any sight or sound of their companions. “I can’t hear the others,” he mewed. “Can you?”
Needlepaw just shook out her wet fur.
“No!” she yowled. “I don’t hear them—I can’t hear anything over the water. I told you I didn’t like it!”
Alderpaw turned an anxious circle, but all he could see were trees and sky. All he could hear was the running water. All he could smell was the wet dirt beneath him, and the fear wafting off both him and Needlepaw.
What do we do now? he wondered.