Outcast

by Erin Hunter

  Like there’ll ever be foxes up here, Hollypaw thought. She padded up to Lionpaw and gave him her shoulder to lean on over the sharp stones to the pool. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Fine.” Lionpaw sighed wearily and crouched by the water to drink. Then he looked up, flicking droplets from his whiskers. “Today was hopeless. We couldn’t get around the whole of the border. The route was just too difficult.”

  Hollypaw wished she could cheer him up with news of the to-be training, but she was still unhappy about teaching them Clan ways, and there were one or two like Screech who made it clear they didn’t want to learn. She glanced at the warriors and Tribe cats, who were making their way slowly and dispiritedly along the path into the cave. For the first time she noticed that Jaypaw had emerged and was sitting on a rock by the waterfall with his paws tucked under him. When the full-grown cats had passed him, he leaped down and bounded across to his littermates.

  “I’m sick of that cave,” he announced as he came up. “I’m so bored I could claw my own fur off. I’ve been stuck in there all day, listening to she-cats moaning on about their sickly kits.”

  “Couldn’t you help them?” Hollypaw asked.

  “I’m not their medicine cat,” he snapped. “Can you imagine what Stoneteller would say if I trod on his tail?”

  “Well, you’re our medicine cat.” Hollypaw’s frustrations were making her cross. “What about doing something for Lionpaw?”

  “Why, what’s the matter?” Jaypaw asked, giving Lionpaw a curious sniff.

  Lionpaw was dipping his sore pads into the pool and then licking them. “I’m okay, honestly.”

  Hollypaw wasn’t convinced. He sounded exhausted, and his pads were raw and bleeding. “His paws are sore. Can’t you do anything?” she prompted Jaypaw.

  Jaypaw twitched his ears irritably. “Where am I supposed to find herbs in this StarClan-forsaken place?” But he stood up, tasting the air, then padded over to the rock wall, where a few scrubby bushes and a narrow patch of grass were struggling to survive. A moment later he returned with a couple of dock leaves in his jaws. “Chew these up and rub the pulp into your pads,” he told Lionpaw.

  “Thanks.” Lionpaw sighed with relief as the cooling juices soothed the pain.

  Hollypaw heard the pad of paws on stone and looked up to see Squirrelflight walking toward them around the edge of the pool. “How did your training session go?” she asked.

  “Okay, I think,” Hollypaw replied. “Some of them learn really quickly. But I’m not sure…”

  “What?”

  “Whether we’re doing the right thing. They’ve followed their traditions for so long. It feels wrong to be teaching them something different.”

  “It’s the same with the border,” Lionpaw meowed. “I don’t think it’s going to work, treating the mountains like Clan territory. The trespassers don’t want borders, that’s for sure, and I don’t think the Tribe does, either. They want things the way they’ve always been.”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting your tails in a twist.” Jaypaw still sounded sour. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting isn’t helping the Tribe, and they don’t want our help. So why should we try to make them do stuff they don’t want?”

  “Because they’ll die without us,” Squirrelflight snapped, then touched Jaypaw’s shoulder with her tail to show that she hadn’t meant to be harsh. “I’m sorry, I’m just as frustrated as you. But I don’t think we should give up yet. We have got valuable lessons to teach the Tribe, and sooner or later they’ll realize it.”

  Hollypaw wasn’t so sure. There are too many battles going on around here, she thought. And not just the kind that spill blood.

  CHAPTER 25

  Jaypaw lay in the moss-lined nest beside Lionpaw and Hollypaw, listening to the endless thunder of the waterfall. There seemed to be voices in it, too faint for him to catch, however hard he strained his ears. Nearby, he could hear the murmuring of tired cats as they settled down for the night.

  Hollypaw and Lionpaw were sleeping like hedgehogs in leaf-bare, exhausted from working so hard. Curled up with his tail over his nose, Jaypaw tried to sleep too, but it was no good. His paws itched to be up and doing something. Careful not to disturb his littermates, he slid out of the nest and padded into the center of the cave.

  He was beginning to learn his way around. He could distinguish the sleeping places of the cave-guards and prey-hunters and scent his own Clanmates who were sharing their space. Creeping across the cave floor with the waterfall behind him, he heard an echoing tinkle of water drops falling and discovered a trickle spilling into a pool. He crouched down to lap; the water was ice cold and tasted of the wind.

  He found it hard to believe that the Clan cats would stay here in the mountains for much longer. They weren’t welcome here, whatever Stoneteller said, and it didn’t look as if forcing the Tribe to learn Clan skills would solve anything. But before they left he was determined to discover more about the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Rising to his paws again, he licked the last drops of water from his jaws and tasted the air.

  Stoneteller’s scent! Jaypaw picked up the faint trace on the cave floor and followed it toward the back of the cave, where a gap opened up. He slid through it and along a narrow tunnel until the movement of air and the faint echoes of his paw steps told him that he had emerged into another cave.

  A wisp of chill wind told him that it was open to the sky, at least partly. Padding forward, his paw splashed in a puddle of water and he drew back sharply, shaking it in disgust. He brushed against stone and explored it with one paw; it jutted from the cave floor like a tree trunk. The air was filled with strange, whispering echoes, voices that were too faint to make out, like those he had heard in the waterfall.

  Then a clearer voice spoke. “Jaypaw, welcome to the Cave of Pointed Stones.”

  Jaypaw froze. He had been too intent on his investigations to wonder what would happen if Stoneteller found him here. This was the Healer’s private place, he could tell, like a Clan leader’s den. But there was no point in pretending he wasn’t there.

  “Thank you, Stoneteller.”

  He heard the sound of paw steps and imagined the old tabby padding toward him. When Stoneteller’s voice came again it was close to his ear.

  “This is where I share tongues with the Tribe of Endless Hunting. They send me signs through the shimmer of stars and moon in the water, the dance of light and shadow on the stones that rise from the floor and jut down from the roof, the echoes of wind, water, and paw steps.” His voice rose and fell, unlike normal speech, then dropped to a low murmur. “Yet now they send no signs that promise relief for my Tribe.”

  Jaypaw had lost respect for Stoneteller when the old cat had lied about the message from the Tribe of Endless Hunting. But he couldn’t ignore the Healer’s age and wisdom or the sharp sense of betrayal Stoneteller felt as he faced the destruction of his Tribe.

  “Our ancestors have no help to offer,” Stoneteller went on. “It is as though they don’t care that we are dying.”

  Jaypaw wasn’t sure if Stoneteller was really talking to him. He was speaking as if to a much older cat, one who might have wisdom to share with him.

  “Clan cats look to StarClan,” Jaypaw began hesitantly. “Yet not even StarClan is all-powerful. Perhaps the Tribe of Endless Hunting doesn’t know how to help you.”

  “Then why did they bring us here?” Stoneteller rasped. “They promised us we would be safe.”

  Jaypaw’s ears pricked. What did Stoneteller know about the beginnings of the Tribe?

  “Where did you live before?” he asked. “Why did you have to leave and come here?”

  Stoneteller sighed, his breath riffling Jaypaw’s whiskers. “I do not know. It was many seasons, many lifetimes ago. The Tribe of Endless Hunting has not told me this.”

  Every hair on Jaypaw’s pelt prickled. So the Tribe hadn’t always lived in the mountains! Perhaps the Tribe of Endless Hunting was so helpless because they were convinced th
ey had been wrong, and the mountains were not the right place to bring these cats. He clawed the damp floor with his forepaws. If only he knew the whole truth, not just these tantalizing scraps!

  “What do the signs say tonight?” he asked Stoneteller.

  “Very little,” the Healer replied. “The moon shines on the water, but—there!—a cloud drifts over it, as if all our hopes are blotted out. The echoes tell me nothing, but over there wind ruffles the surface of a puddle, and that means change.” He sighed again, sounding unutterably weary. “What the change may be, I do not know. I will sleep now. Good night, Jaypaw.”

  “Good night.” Jaypaw heard the old cat’s paw steps retreating, and then a scuffling sound as if he was making himself comfortable in a mossy nest. He stood listening as the sounds died away, trying to make some sense of the echoes in the cave, but they told him nothing.

  Padding to the side of the cave, he found a dip in the ground. It was bare stone, with no comfortable lining, but he curled up in it, knowing that only in dreams would he find the answers to his questions.

  Jaypaw closed his eyes and woke once more on the jutting outcrop of rock with the wind flattening his fur along his sides. Rock sat on a boulder facing him. Moonlight glistened on his hairless body and his bulging sightless eyes seemed fixed on Jaypaw.

  “These are not your ancestors,” he mewed, before Jaypaw could speak. “Be careful.”

  “I am careful,” Jaypaw retorted. “And I have to do something! The Tribe of Endless Hunting has given up on the Tribe. They’re not doing anything to help.”

  “But your Clanmates are,” Rock replied.

  “But that’s not right!” Jaypaw protested, twitching his tail tip in confusion. “Isn’t it the responsibility of warrior ancestors to look after their descendants? Otherwise what use are they?”

  Rock said nothing, but Jaypaw sensed great sadness coming from him. Curiosity clawed at him again. Why should Rock feel so concerned about the Tribe cats? And why will no cat tell me anything?

  He let out a yowl of frustration as he saw Rock’s figure beginning to fade. For a heartbeat Jaypaw saw him as a shimmer against the rocks; then he was gone, dissolved into wind and starlight. He bounded forward and found himself scrabbling in the hollow in the Cave of Pointed Stones, where he had fallen asleep.

  “Mouse dung!” he spat.

  Scent told him that time had passed and Stoneteller had left the cave. Jaypaw rose to his paws and gave himself a quick grooming. His dreams still clung to his mind like stubborn cobwebs, and he felt that he might be able to find his own answers once he had time to think.

  But the time was not now. He could hear faint caterwauling in the distance; his muscles tensing with the anticipation of disaster, he located the passage and pattered down it until he reached the main cave. The noise grew louder, wails and yowling that almost drowned out the noise of the waterfall. As Jaypaw stepped into the cavern, the stench of blood slapped him in the face like a damp wind.

  “What’s going on?” he meowed in alarm.

  He tasted the air; the first familiar scent he encountered was Tawnypelt’s. Bounding over to her, he asked, “What happened? Has there been a battle?”

  “A fight.” The ShadowClan cat’s voice was terse. “The prey-hunters went out at dawn and brought down an eagle. Then the trespassers spotted them on their way home and fought them for it.”

  “And we lost!” an unfamiliar voice snarled. “Those mange-ridden fleapelts took our prey. It’s all the fault of you Clan cats. You kept the cave-guards here, learning battle techniques.” The Tribe cat spat out the last words as if they were a curse.

  “The techniques you use now wouldn’t help you fight other cats.” Brambleclaw’s voice came from behind Jaypaw and his father’s scent wreathed around him.

  “They’d be better than nothing!” the Tribe cat yowled. “My mate was injured today.” His voice shook suddenly. “I don’t even know if she’ll live.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brambleclaw murmured. “Jaypaw, will you go and help Stoneteller? He could use another medicine cat.”

  “Sure.” Thankful to have something to do at last, Jaypaw located Stoneteller’s scent among all the others and padded across to him, weaving his way among the bodies of injured cats screeching in pain.

  “Honestly,” he muttered to himself. “There can’t be more than about six of them, but they’re making enough racket for a whole Clan!”

  “Jaypaw.” Stoneteller’s voice was calm and in control. He seemed a lifetime away from the weary, confused cat of the night before. “Chew up this tormentil root and put it on Gray’s wound.”

  Jaypaw sniffed curiously at the root Stoneteller pushed against his paws. “I’ve never come across this before. What did you call it?”

  “Tormentil,” Stoneteller replied. “Good for all wounds and for poison.”

  “Hey, do you mind?” Gray’s voice, tight with pain, came from just beside Jaypaw. “Talk about it afterward, okay?”

  “Okay.” Jaypaw sighed. “Have you given the wound a good lick?”

  “No…” Gray sounded startled, as if the thought of licking his own wound had never occurred to him.

  “Then do it,” Jaypaw snapped. “What’s the good of putting a poultice on a load of drying blood and messy fur?”

  He crouched down to chew up the tormentil, hearing the steady rasp of Gray’s tongue. The root had a strong aromatic scent and a sharp taste.

  “We use wintergreen, too,” Stoneteller meowed as he worked. “And tansy. Have you heard of those?”

  Jaypaw spat out the last of the chewed-up root and scooped up a pawful to put on Gray’s wound. “We have tansy, but mostly for coughs. Right, Gray, is that wound clean now?”

  “Yes, it’s okay,” the prey-hunter replied.

  “About time,” Jaypaw muttered. “It’s like dealing with kits!”

  “Hey, calm down.” Hollypaw pushed her muzzle into Jaypaw’s neck fur. “Tell me what to do. I’ve come to help.”

  “The Tribe cats need to start helping themselves,” Jaypaw snapped at her, then felt sorry for being sharp. Hollypaw didn’t know that the Tribe’s ancestors had given up on them, and he didn’t want to tell her. But he knew that if the Tribe cats didn’t start helping themselves, there was no hope left for them.

  CHAPTER 26

  Once the injured cats had been treated and were resting in their sleeping hollows, Stoneteller padded wearily toward the mouth of the cave. He beckoned with his tail for Brambleclaw to join him, and Lionpaw followed, eager to hear what their next move would be.

  The light that came through the waterfall was dim and gray. Stoneteller sat down, a small, dark figure in the midst of the watery radiance, and tucked his paws underneath him.

  “The Tribe cannot survive here,” he sighed, his voice almost drowned out by the pounding of the water. “We must leave the mountains and find a home somewhere else.”

  Brambleclaw’s eyes widened in dismay. “That’s your decision to make, Stoneteller, but is it wise? It’s dangerous for a large group of cats to move around together. The Clans lost cats on the Great Journey. Besides, where would you go?”

  Stoneteller shook his head; he had no answer to that question.

  Maybe they could come to the lake with us, Lionpaw thought. But there are too many to join one Clan. They would have to split up, and they wouldn’t like that. Anyway, the Clans would never accept them.

  “Even if you found a new home,” Brambleclaw went on, “you would have to learn new ways of living, new hunting techniques. It would be better to find a way of surviving here, where you belong.”

  Stoneteller turned his head to look up at the dark tabby. “And how do you suggest we do that?”

  “Give the border patrols a try,” Brambleclaw meowed.

  “Patrols?” Stoneteller’s voice was disapproving. “Spend all our time scrambling over rocks?”

  “Yes, it’s hard,” Brambleclaw admitted, an edge of annoyance in his voice. “But your cat
s are used to moving around in this terrain. That gives you a big advantage over the intruders.”

  The Healer blinked, his eyes on the eternally falling water. After several heartbeats, he asked, “Are you saying that the Tribe must restrict itself to one area?”

  “It would be a big area,” Brambleclaw promised. “Plenty of space for you to support yourselves. And isn’t keeping part of your territory better than losing it all?” When Stoneteller didn’t respond, he added, “Why don’t you come and see for yourself, to make sure you’ll have enough?”

  “The Healer does not leave the cave, except for ceremonies above the waterfall,” Stoneteller responded. “That is the will of the Tribe of Endless Hunting.”

  Brambleclaw looked frustrated, the tip of his tail twitching back and forth. Lionpaw was afraid he was going to give up the argument.

  Then Stoneteller spoke again. “But perhaps the time is right to break with some of our traditions, so that we can preserve the rest. I will come with you.”

  “Great!” Brambleclaw’s tail went straight up. “I’ll get a patrol together right away. Lionpaw, you can come.” He flicked his tail at him as he raced back into the main part of the cave.

  Lionpaw wasn’t sure he wanted to clamber all the way around the territory again. His paws were still sore from the previous day. But he did want to help establish the border and to see what Stoneteller’s reaction would be. He waited beside the Healer until Brambleclaw returned. Talon, Breezepaw, and Pebble were with him; Crowfeather followed a little way behind with Crag, Night, and a couple of the other Tribe to-bes.

  “Crowfeather will take his patrol in one direction, and we’ll take the other,” Brambleclaw meowed to Stoneteller. “That way, we can get around the whole territory by nightfall. We won’t try to explore every corner, just find landmarks along the way so that we all know where the border is.”