The Last Hope

Chapter 13

Dovewing sat in the entrance and peered out of the den. The camp smelled of wet leaves. “It’s stopped raining.”

Ivypool stretched in her nest. “Is it clearing up?”

“Yes.” Clouds still streaked the sky but a brisk wind was sweeping them away. “It’ll be clear by the time we get there.” Dovewing’s whiskers twitched. There would be a Gathering after all. The past stormy days had left her restless. She hadn’t seen Tigerheart since the last moonlit night. StarClan, let him be at the Gathering.

Bumblestripe padded from the fresh-kill pile, a mouse in his jaws. “Hi, Dovewing.” He dropped it at her paws. “I thought you might be hungry.”

She pushed the mouse away. “No, thanks.”

Bumblestripe tipped his head. “Are you sure? It’s a long way to the island. I’m starving already.”

“Then go and eat something,” Dovewing meowed. On the other side of the clearing, Firestar was emerging from his den. “We’ll be leaving soon.” Dovewing glanced at Ivypool. “You look better for your rest.” At least the bad weather had meant the Clan had been confined to camp and Ivypool had been able to catch up on sleep. “Perhaps Brambleclaw will change his mind.”

The ThunderClan deputy hadn’t chosen Ivypool for the Gathering. When Dovewing had begged him to let her littermate join the patrol, he’d shaken his head. “She’s been looking tired for moons. Perhaps Jayfeather should check her.”

“She’s fine,” Dovewing had quickly reassured him.

Ivypool turned in her nest. “I’d rather stay here and sleep.”

Dovewing blinked at her. Did she want to dream her way back into the Dark Forest already?

Ivypool’s gaze flicked toward Blossomfall and Birchfall as the warriors passed the den entrance. Then she closed her eyes. “Brambleclaw’s right,” she murmured. “I am tired.”

Dovewing ducked outside and crossed the clearing to where Lionblaze and Cloudtail were already waiting by the thorn tunnel. Foxleap sat beside them, while Cherrypaw patted playfully at Molepaw’s twitching tail.

“Wait for me.” Rosepetal hurried to catch up. “Bumblestripe’s trying to cram in an extra mouse before we leave.”

Dovewing snorted. “He’ll be as fat as Graystripe if he keeps eating like that.”

The pale gray warrior was rummaging through the fresh-kill pile, his black stripes like moon shadows across his pelt. Graystripe nosed in beside him. “Any good prey left?”

Bumblestripe hooked out a shrew and licked his lips. “This must have been hidden at the bottom.”

“You’d better offer it to Mousefur first,” Graystripe advised. “She loves shrew.”

Bumblestripe looked across to the honeysuckle bush. Mousefur was outside, washing her ears with a trembling forepaw. Bumblestripe held out the shrew, letting it dangle from a claw. “Are you hungry, Mousefur?”

She looked up, whiskers twitching. “Not really. I wish I still had a warrior’s appetite.”

Beside her, Purdy rolled onto his back and stretched. “Do you ever miss hunting?” he asked.

“As much as you’d miss talking if your tongue fell out,” Mousefur rasped.

Bumblestripe looked at the shrew, his eyes lighting up. “I guess it’s mine, then.”

Ferncloud marched from the nursery. “Brightheart would probably appreciate it more.” She nipped the shrew from his claw and carried it back to where Brightheart lay resting, her belly round in the moonlight. Bumblestripe’s tail drooped.

Dovewing purred and nudged Rosepetal. “Poor old Bumblestripe. Always first to the pile and last to get fed.”

Firestar jumped down from Highledge and gazed at the rising moon. “We should leave.” He glanced over his shoulder as Sandstorm landed beside him. “The break in the weather might not last long.”

Brambleclaw stretched beside the warriors’ den, then followed Firestar across the clearing. Cinderheart padded out of her den and stared wistfully at the thorn barrier.

Squirrelflight hopped out after her. “Are you going to the Gathering?”

Cinderheart shrugged. “Not tonight.”

“What about Jayfeather?” Lionblaze met Firestar as the ThunderClan leader reached the camp entrance. “Is he coming with us?” Jayfeather stood in the entrance to the medicine den, brambles draping his spine.

Firestar shook his head.

“But no Clan goes to a Gathering without their medicine cat,” Lionblaze objected.

Brambleclaw smoothed Lionblaze’s ruffled fur with a flick of his tail. “He’s not our medicine cat as far as the other Clans are concerned.”

Lionblaze growled. “I don’t like the other Clans telling us what to do.”

“Nor do I.” Firestar flexed his claws. “But this is not a battle worth fighting.”

Rosepetal stepped forward. “Couldn’t Cinderheart take his place? She used to be ThunderClan’s medicine cat.”

Cinderheart, still watching from the warriors’ den, pricked her ears.

“No.” Firestar dipped his head toward Cinderheart. “The Clans don’t need to know Cinderheart’s history until she decides for herself which path she must choose.”

To Dovewing’s surprise, Cinderheart looked relieved. Didn’t she want to return to her old role as medicine cat?

A gust of wind rattled the thornbush. “Let’s go.” Firestar pushed into the brambles. “There’s more rain coming. It may be a short Gathering.”

The patrol pounded up the slope as Firestar followed the trail to the forest’s edge. Pelts flashed between brambles. Dovewing’s paws slithered on wet leaves. As Blossomfall steadied her with a flick of her tail, a gray pelt caught the edge of her vision. Dovewing turned to see Bumblestripe fall in beside her, his feet skimming the ground as he matched her paw step for paw step. She pushed harder to pull ahead. The gray warrior seemed to be there every time she looked over her shoulder. She veered around a bramble, sliding across his path so he had to pull up and let her take the lead.

She reached the top of the slope before him and, breaking from the trees, stared down at the lake. Please, StarClan, let Tigerheart be there. The prayer pierced her heart, more an ache than a wish.

“Tired already?” Rosepetal pulled up beside her.

“I’m not!” Blossomfall mewed as she pelted past them, skidding down the slope after her Clanmates.

Bumblestripe scrambled to a halt beside Dovewing and Rosepetal. “You nearly ran me into a tree!”

“You should watch where you’re going,” Dovewing growled. “I nearly tripped over you.” Muttering under her breath, she ran down the slope. “Clumsy mouse-brain.”

“Why do you have to be so mean to him?” Rosepetal’s whisper took Dovewing by surprise. “It’s not a crime, you know!”

“What isn’t?”

Rosepetal’s gaze darkened meaningfully as Bumblestripe raced past them.

“What?” Dovewing repeated. Why did Rosepetal look so angry?

“It’s obvious he likes you!” Rosepetal snapped. “You don’t have to keep biting his head off. He’s your Clanmate, not prey!”

Dovewing flattened her ears. Why should she feel bad? “Why do I have to tiptoe around him just because he likes me? It’s not my fault.”

Rosepetal looked sideways at her. “Do you enjoy hurting his feelings?”

“Of course not!” Guilt flashed under Dovewing’s pelt.

“Then apologize.”

Dovewing winced. Rosepetal was right. If Bumblestripe had feelings for her, it wasn’t fair to punish him for his attention. “Okay!” She pulled ahead, following Bumblestripe’s tracks through the grass. She bounded down the short slope onto the shore, landing on the pebbles a moment after Bumblestripe. He glanced over his shoulder and kept running.

“Wait!” Dovewing panted, pebbles spraying out behind.

Bumblestripe eased his pace enough for her to catch up. “What?” he growled.

“Look.” Dovewing tried to catch her breath but Bumblestripe was still running hard. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

Bumblestripe turned his head to look at her, his gaze hard as ice. “I’m tired of being used as your scratching post,” he hissed. “From now on sharpen your claws on someone else.”

Dovewing’s pelt pricked. “It’s not my fault!”

“I get it, okay?” He didn’t even look at her. He just kept running. “You don’t like me the same way I like you. I’ll get over it. I’m just disappointed you’re not the cat I thought you were.”

Dovewing bristled. How dare he say that to her? She gave everything to the Clan, and he wanted more! It wasn’t fair. She slowed, letting Bumblestripe pull ahead.

“So?” Rosepetal caught up to her.

“Thanks a lot,” Dovewing growled. “Next time I’ll let you apologize.”

“Is he angry?”

“Yes.” Dovewing lashed her tail. “And he’s not the only one.”

She raced after the patrol, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground and flattening her ears to the gossip of her Clanmates until they reached the tree-bridge that spanned the water between the shore and the island. Hanging back, she let her Clanmates cross first. As they filed across, she opened her mouth, hoping to catch a taste of Tigerheart. But the air was thick with scents from every Clan.

Dovewing nosed her way out of the grass. The clearing was swarming with pelts. Faces turned as ThunderClan padded out from the grass.

“Did he come?” Dovewing heard a ShadowClan apprentice whispering to his denmate.

Ears twitched as eyes scanned ThunderClan.

“Can you see him?”

“He wouldn’t dare!”

Dovewing stiffened. “Who are they talking about?” she whispered to Whitewing.

Whitewing lifted her chin and wove through a knot of warriors. “Jayfeather,” she meowed.

Dovewing followed her mother past the staring faces and halted beside Blossomfall and Squirrelflight. Firestar shouldered his way through in front of them, heading for the Great Oak. Brambleclaw joined Reedwhisker, Rowanclaw, and Ashfoot at the bottom, while Molepaw and Cherrypaw trotted over to sit with a cluster of apprentices at the edge of the clearing. Dovewing scanned the rows of faces, looking for Tigerheart.

Three medicine cats, Littlecloud, Kestrelflight, and Willowshine, were gathered below the oak. Dawnpelt paced in front of them, lashing her tail.

Dovewing glanced at Whitewing. “She looks like she wants Jayfeather to come so she can start a fight.”

She felt hot breath on her ear and turned to find Redwillow leaning close. “Murderers deserve to be punished!”

Dovewing turned on him, bristling. “Jayfeather is not a murderer!”

Pebblefoot stepped between them. “Why isn’t he here, then?” he challenged Dovewing. “Too guilty to show his whiskers?”

Dovewing glared at him. “You told him not to—”

Whitewing barged Pebblefoot away with her shoulder. “Stay close to your Clanmates, Dovewing,” she warned. “Some cats don’t seem to realize there’s a truce.” She glanced up at the round full moon hanging over the island. A cloud hung across it like a smear of cobweb.

Dovewing turned her back on Redwillow and Pebblefoot. She wasn’t going to be the one to make StarClan angry. “It’s not fair,” she hissed to Whitewing. “They tell Jayfeather not to come and then say it proves that he’s guilty!”

Whitewing smoothed Dovewing’s ruffled pelt with her tail. “They’re just trying to provoke us.”

“But why?” Didn’t they care about the truce? As anger boiled in her belly, Dovewing caught sight of two dark ear tips on the far side of the clearing. Lifting herself onto her haunches, she peered over the other cats. Tigerheart!

“Can I squeeze past, please?” Dapplenose was nosing her way through a cluster of ShadowClan cats.

Dovewing shuffled to make room for the RiverClan elder. “You can sit here, if you want.” She beckoned with a flick of her muzzle.

“Thank you.” Dapplenose sat beside her.

Dovewing closed her mouth to block out the stink of fish rising from the old cat’s pelt. “No problem,” she muttered between clenched teeth.

Silence swept the Clan as Blackstar lifted his muzzle and yowled, “Let the Gathering begin.” He gazed over the Clans from the wide, low branch of the Great Oak. “Thank you, Firestar.” He dipped his head to the ThunderClan leader.

Firestar narrowed his eyes.

Blackstar went on, “You have followed the wishes of the Clans and kept Jayfeather confined to camp until we discover the truth about Flametail’s death.”

Dawnpelt’s eyes flashed from beside Littlecloud, and she nodded importantly to show that she agreed.

Dovewing flexed her claws. Who made you leader of everyone?

Spiderleg rose on his haunches and called, “How will the truth be known?”

Littlecloud stepped forward. “We are waiting for StarClan to speak.” He glanced at Dawnpelt. “It’s a difficult situation for us all.”

Willowshine stood up. “None of us are comfortable with it.”

Dovewing tried to see Tigerheart. Was he feeling uncomfortable?

“Don’t stare!” Her mother’s hiss made her jump. “We don’t want to challenge ShadowClan!”

Flinching, Dovewing dragged her gaze back toward the leaders. Onestar had stepped forward, his tail curving over his back. “WindClan has had good hunting over the past moon. We are ready for the coming season.”

Mistystar nodded. “We, too. Greenleaf filled the lake with fish and there has been no illness in RiverClan.”

Firestar flicked his tail. “StarClan has blessed all the Clans this greenleaf.”

Dovewing saw unease flicker in his gaze for a moment before he blinked it away. This might be the last greenleaf the Clans would see.

Mistystar interrupted her thoughts. “RiverClan has had only one concern.” She tipped her head, her eyes questioning as she scanned the Clans. “There have been traces of rogues and loners appearing in our territory. No cat has been spotted, but there have been strange scents and paw prints.”

Dovewing froze, remembering all the nights she’d roamed with Tigerheart beyond the bounds of Clan territory. Had their scents drifted into enemy territory?

Mistystar twitched her tail. “And yet we have found no trails across our scent lines. It’s as if the cats simply appeared inside our territories.”

Whitewing leaned closer to Dovewing. “Perhaps the tunnels reach into RiverClan territory, too,” she whispered.

But Dovewing hardly heard her. Don’t let it be our scent! She drew her paws tighter under her. Hadn’t Spiderleg reported hearing strange cats on a night vigil? Brambleclaw had ordered moonhigh patrols. Was that our fault, too?

Firestar put his head on one side, his eyes sharp with interest. “We have also seen signs of rogue intruders.” His tail trembled. “They’ve come at night and we’ve set up extra patrols, but no cat has actually been seen.”

Onestar shifted his paws. “We’ve had strange scents, too,” he admitted.

Blackstar hunched his shoulders. “There have been rogues in ShadowClan’s forests as well.”

Firestar leaned forward. “Have you actually seen anything?”

Blackstar shook his head. “Just scents, broken branch tips, tufts of fur.”

Mistystar’s fur lifted along her spine. “Whereabouts?”

“Deep in our territory,” Blackstar replied.

Onestar nodded. “Same here. Nothing at the borders, but traces right at the heart of the moor.”

Blackstar’s claws scraped the bark. “Most scents have been found in areas perfect for ambushes.”

“As though an enemy is scouting for an invasion,” Firestar commented grimly.

Dovewing felt pelts bristling around her. Murmurs rippled through the Clans.

“I found orange fur on a gorse bush!” Heathertail called. “It smelled like no Clan cat I know.”

Smokefoot lifted his muzzle. “There were paw prints near our training ground that had a foul scent.” The ShadowClan warrior wrinkled his nose.

Dapplenose shifted beside Dovewing. “There was a trail of footprints tracking the river around our camp,” she rasped.

Blossomfall raised her head above her Clanmates. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Greenleaf has been warm and sunny,” she called. “Kittypets, rogues, and loners always stray farther during fine weather.”

Dovewing glanced at her Clanmate. Why was she so keen to dismiss the danger?

“These were no rogues! I smelled RiverClan among the other scents!” Rowanclaw yowled.

Brambleclaw nodded. “And there was definitely ShadowClan scent in ThunderClan territory.”

Blackstar narrowed his eyes. “No ShadowClan warrior has trespassed across your border!”

A growl rumbled in Mistystar’s throat. “RiverClan has no need to stray into other territories. We have everything we need in our own!”

Eyes glittered like tiny moons as the leaders flashed warning looks at one another. Dapplenose drew away from Dovewing, her gaze suddenly suspicious. Onestar’s tail was lashing. Blackstar glared accusingly at Firestar.

“Listen to what you are saying!” Firestar hissed. His green gaze swept the restless crowd. “We haven’t all been invading one another’s territories!”

“Then how do you explain the scents?” Dawnpelt challenged from the bottom of the tree.

Firestar stepped forward to the end of his branch, his shoulders rippling beneath his pelt. “If rogues have been traveling across all the territories, they could have picked up scents and spread them like fleas in their path.”

Mistystar’s fur smoothed a little. “The scents have been confusing.”

Onestar’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “If rogues could carry scents from one territory to another, then so could a Clan patrol.”

Firestar met his gaze. “Then we should all step up patrols and try to find these cats.”

“Send out more patrols!” a ShadowClan tom called from the crowd.

“We must stay alert!” a RiverClan warrior yowled.

Firestar pressed on. “And if any Clan finds evidence, we must share it with the other Clans!”

Onestar bristled. “And warn them they’ve been found out? Never!”

Mistystar backed away from the other leaders. “I protect my own Clan,” she growled. “No other.”

Dovewing gasped as a WindClan cat barged past her, heading for his Clanmates farther down the clearing. All around her, warriors were weaving closer to their denmates. Dovewing glanced over her shoulder. The knot of apprentices had broken up and Cherrypaw and Molepaw were scurrying back to the ThunderClan warriors.

Blackstar jumped down from the Great Oak. Mistystar slithered down the trunk next, while Onestar glared at Firestar before leaping into the clearing.

“Come on, Dovewing,” Whitewing meowed. “There won’t be any sharing tongues tonight.”

Dovewing stretched her head up to find Tigerheart. There was no sign of him among the streaming pelts. “I’ll catch up!” she called to Whitewing as her mother headed after Squirrelflight and Blossomfall. She felt buffeted like a leaf on a river as cats moved around her, heading for the tree-bridge, clustering close to their Clanmates.

“Dovewing?” A familiar mew sounded behind her.

She spun around, her heart leaping as she saw Tigerheart.

His tail was high. “I thought we’d been found out with all that talk of drifting scents!”

“Me too!” Dovewing saw relief in his gaze. “We have to be more careful from now on.”

Tigerheart nodded. “There’ll be more patrols.” He stretched his muzzle close to her ear. “Let’s meet outside the territories again tomorrow night,” he whispered. “At the Twoleg nest.”

As Dovewing nodded, she felt the fur bristle on the back of her neck. She looked past Tigerheart and saw Bumblestripe staring at her. Her heart missed a beat. “We were just discussing the intruders,” she told her Clanmate quickly. “Tigerheart was asking if I’d noticed anything.”

Bumblestripe’s eyes widened.

“I thought it would be a good idea to talk to other patrols, to see if the scents have been picked up on the same nights.” Dovewing realized she was chattering like a blackbird.

Bumblestripe shrugged. “You can talk to whoever you like,” he meowed. “It’s a Gathering.” He began to follow the other cats toward the tree-bridge and disappeared into the long grass.

Dovewing turned back to Tigerheart. “I’d better go.”

Tigerheart dipped his head. “Me too.” He headed away, slipping between Rowanclaw and Dawnpelt as they passed.

Dovewing bounded after Whitewing, following her scent into the grass and catching up with her as she reached the shore. Whitewing glanced sideways at her as they waited for the other Clans to pass one by one over the fallen tree. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Dovewing mewed as brightly as she could.

Whitewing didn’t answer, but moved closer to her daughter till Dovewing felt her soft pelt brush her flank. Above them, clouds rolled across the sky and the wind lifted, sending waves scudding across the lake. Dovewing wished she could tell her mother everything: about Tigerheart and how much he meant to her; how heavy the prophecy seemed and how small she felt under its weight. But she couldn’t talk about the prophecy to any cat beyond the ones already involved, and Whitewing would be devastated if she knew her daughter loved a cat from another Clan.

Whitewing pressed closer. “I’m always here if you need me.”

Rain began to fleck Dovewing’s pelt. Her vision blurred, and she told herself it was just raindrops. “Thanks, Whitewing,” she whispered.

“Come on.” Whitewing nudged her toward a gap in the stream of cats. “We’ll be home before you know it.”