by Erin Hunter
“Yes.”
Leafpaw wondered why her sister seemed so reluctant to talk. She watched her exchange an anxious glance with Brambleclaw. He had been weaving among the cats all morning, flanking first one side, then the other, as if he was afraid of losing one.
Leafpaw felt the air tremble, and a rumbling in the distance made her pause. It sounded as if a storm was coming, but the clear sky told her there couldn’t be. She lifted her nose and sniffed the air. A Thunderpath.
“It’s a big one,” Squirrelpaw warned.
As they drew nearer, the rumbling grew to a roar, and the stench began to burn Leafpaw’s throat. The cats in front slowed down, jostling together but still keeping closer to their Clanmates than the other cats. Squirrelpaw pushed forwards, and Leafpaw followed until they reached a ditch with steeply sloping sides. Beyond it lay the Thunderpath.
“We should get the kits across first.” Firestar led the way into the narrow gully. Leafpaw jumped down beside Sorreltail, her paws slipping on the greasy grass. Monsters roared past in both directions, and she flinched as the earth shook beneath her paws.
“Each Clan should take its own chances,” Mudclaw insisted.
“RiverClan will cross first,” Hawkfrost declared.
“Not all the warriors are as strong as RiverClan’s,” Leopardstar pointed out. “Firestar is right; we should help the weaker Clans.”
“My Clan doesn’t need your help!” hissed Mudclaw. “Besides, it would be chaos! No cat would know whose orders to follow!”
“Then why don’t you command us all?” Firestar spat.
“No cat commands ShadowClan warriors except me!” Blackstar growled.
Brambleclaw pushed through the crowd to stand beside Firestar. Leafpaw was close enough to scent the fear in him. “Cats will get killed while you’re all bickering! Surely it doesn’t matter who is in charge until every cat is safely on the other side?”
Blackstar flattened his ears and Hawkfrost lashed his tail.
“Let him continue,” Firestar warned.
“I’ll lead ThunderClan,” Brambleclaw meowed. “Crowpaw can lead WindClan. Tawnypelt can take ShadowClan, and Stormfur, you guide RiverClan.”
“Crowpaw can’t lead WindClan,” Mudclaw argued. “He’s only an apprentice.”
“Have you crossed this path before?” Brambleclaw demanded.
“No,” Mudclaw spat. “But I have commanded my Clan before!”
“Crowpaw will lead!” Brambleclaw hissed.
Ignoring them both, Stormfur flicked his tail and led his Clanmates to the edge of the Thunderpath, where he crouched, waiting to give the signal. A monster roared past, its pelt glinting in the sunlight. As soon as it had gone, Stormfur yowled and the RiverClan cats surged up and over the Thunderpath. Leafpaw searched for Dawnflower, quickly spotting her pale grey coat and feeling a rush of relief when she saw that two RiverClan warriors were helping to carry her kits.
As the cats bundled on to the verge on the other side, Leafpaw heard the menacing rumble of another monster. Thanking StarClan that RiverClan had all made it safely, she looked up to see how far away it was. Her heart flipped over. Mudclaw had told his Clan to start crossing without waiting for Crowpaw to give the command!
Crowpaw stared panic-stricken as the monster screamed towards them. “Hurry!” He bolted forwards, scooped up a kit, and raced for the other side. Hurling the kit onto the verge, he raced back to grab another. “Carry the kits!” he ordered. Scrabbling to get a grip on the slippery surface, he grasped another kit by its scruff and raced for the far side once more. The warriors and apprentices seized the last of the kits and raced after him, with the queens at their heels. But Morningflower, a WindClan elder, fell behind.
“Run!” Leafpaw yowled.
Above her, Firestar crouched at the edge of the Thunderpath. His gaze flicked at the oncoming monster, judging whether he could reach Morningflower in time.
“Stay where you are!” Brambleclaw screeched at him.
Firestar crouched lower and flattened his ears. “Keep going! You’ll make it!” he called to the WindClan she-cat. The monster bore down like a whirlwind and suddenly veered across the Thunderpath, straight towards Firestar. Leafpaw felt a wave of terror and shut her eyes, waiting for the sickening crunch of fur and bone.
It never came. She opened her eyes a tiny slit to see the monster sweep past Firestar so close that the wind tugged his fur. It roared away without slowing down. Leafpaw opened her eyes fully. Morningflower was limping determinedly across the Thunderpath, watched by her Clanmates from the other side. Firestar backed away from the edge, his flanks heaving.
“It’s OK, he’s safe.” Sorreltail touched her nose to Leafpaw’s shoulder.
“I thought he was going to be killed,” she whispered.
“Your father’s brave,” Sorreltail murmured, “but he’s no fool.”
Leafpaw turned back to watch ShadowClan waiting to cross. She hoped that Blackstar had learned caution from Mudclaw’s recklessness. The ShadowClan leader was watching Tawnypelt.
An apprentice darted forwards.
“Get back!” Tawnypelt hissed. Her tone stopped the apprentice in his tracks, and he darted back to join the other cats.
“We go together!” she insisted, glancing at Blackstar. He nodded.
There were no monsters in sight. Cautiously Blackstar padded forwards, lifting his nose to scent the air. “Now!” he called, and the ShadowClan cats leaped up the side of the ditch and spilled on to the Thunderpath. Tallpoppy’s kits were carried safely by warriors, and Tallpoppy herself was swept along by her Clan like a fish swimming downstream. Leafpaw sighed with relief as all the cats reached the other side just before a monster set the earth trembling once more.
“We’ll go after this one,” Brambleclaw called.
Suddenly a tiny cry came from the far side. Leafpaw stiffened. One of Tallpoppy’s kits had wandered back on to the Thunderpath! Dazed, it wandered in a circle on the hard path, mewling for its mother.
Dustpelt and Mousefur flattened their bellies to the ground, ready to make a dash for the kit.
“Wait!” Brambleclaw ordered. “It’s too dangerous.”
The Clan held its position.
Tallpoppy began to struggle through the mass of ShadowClan cats to reach her kit, but one of the RiverClan queens was closer. Dawnflower leaped on to the Thunderpath and scooped the kit out of the way of the monster. She carried it back to the verge, dropped it on the grass, and began licking it roughly.
Suddenly she stopped and swiped her tongue around her lips in confusion as she realised the kit was not her own. She glanced self-consciously at her Clanmates as Tallpoppy bounded over and snatched up her kit. Leafpaw tensed, hoping Tallpoppy wasn’t offended by the RiverClan queen’s intervention. But her eyes were brimming with gratitude, and she dipped her head to Dawnflower before carrying her kit away.
“That’s where Feathertail rescued me from the fence stuff.” Squirrelpaw pointed with her nose to the shiny prickly thread that hung between the wooden posts. The Thunderpath was behind them now, and Leafpaw’s paws had finally stopped shaking. She was grateful to her sister for distracting her with stories of her first journey here. “While the others were busy arguing about what to do,” Squirrelpaw went on, “Feathertail rubbed my fur with some chewed-up dock leaves and I slipped out like a fish.”
“You left half your pelt behind, though,” Stormfur reminded her, and Squirrelpaw swatted him playfully with her forepaw in reply.
There seemed to be no danger here, no fresh scents of Twolegs or dogs; just lots of sheep that grazed noisily, paying little attention to the cats. The cats spread out across the meadow, each Clan keeping to itself. Only Crowpaw, Tawnypelt, Brambleclaw, Squirrelpaw, and Stormfur broke away from their Clanmates, taking turns hurrying up and down the line, watching for stragglers.
Tallstar trekked wearily along. Onewhisker had not left his side all day. The other leaders glanced at the elderly WindClan cat from time
to time, clearly worried.
“We should find a place to rest,” Barkface advised as the sky darkened and a chill breeze ruffled the cats’ fur.
“There’s a copse up ahead,” Firestar meowed. “We could find shelter there.”
The other leaders nodded, and the cats climbed to the top of the sloping field and padded into the wood. Leafpaw sank gratefully onto a pile of moss.
“I smell fox,” Blackstar warned.
“The scent is stale,” Leopardstar observed, scenting the air.
“But it might come back while we’re sleeping,” Mudclaw meowed.
“The Clans should all sleep together,” called Dawnflower, reaching out with her tail to stop her tom kit, a plump, roundfaced tabby, from wandering after a woodlouse. “Lie down, Tumblekit,” she scolded.
“The kits and queens should sleep in the centre,” Onewhisker suggested. “They’ll be safest there.” He glanced at Tallstar. “The oldest cats should join them.”
“Very well,” Blackstar agreed. “Each Clan will post two guards to keep watch.”
Leafpaw padded over to Sorreltail, grateful for the shelter of the bracken. Ferncloud should sleep soundly tonight, she decided, with four Clans and thick undergrowth to keep Birchkit warm. The woods were very quiet, the frosty silence broken only by the hooting of an owl. It wasn’t home, and the jumbled scents of four different Clans made Leafpaw’s nose twitch, but she felt safe enough to curl up next to Cinderpelt and go to sleep.
Leafpaw slowly grew used to dealing with Thunderpaths as they trekked towards the setting sun. The Clans still crossed separately, but the queens watched out for each other’s kits now, having seen how easily the youngest cats were confused by the noise and the stench of the monsters. Like cobwebs in the rain, the Clan boundaries were beginning to dissolve.
“We should reach the mountains this evening,” Brambleclaw announced as Leafpaw did her morning rounds of the Clan, checking for injuries or signs of infection.
“Are we that close?” She stared up at the peaks, which had grown from a tiny line on the horizon into a forbidding mass of stone. She shivered at the sight of the snow that capped the highest crags. Some of the cats had already begun coughing, awakening Leafpaw’s fear of greencough, the illness that could wipe out an entire Clan in leaf-bare.
“Leafpaw!” Firestar called. “Are you up for a little hunting?”
“Yes, please,” she replied eagerly. She had been so busy tending to the Clan, padding cuts with cobweb, soothing scratches with dock, trying to make the best of what herbs she and Cinderpelt had found along the way, that she had not hunted in days.
“Go with Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw, then,” Firestar ordered. “See if you can bring back a mouse or two.”
Squirrelpaw bounded to her side. “Which way shall we go?”
“There should be plenty of mice in that field over there.” Brambleclaw pointed with his tail to an open meadow beyond the hedgerow.
“Come on then,” Squirrelpaw urged.
Brambleclaw charged after her, and Leafpaw followed, wriggling through the hedge to find herself in a broad, grassy space.
While Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw ranged around the edge of the field, she headed into the long grass battered down by the leaf-bare winds and rain. Almost at once she smelled mouse. After the long, hungry moons in the prey-scarce forest they had left behind, Leafpaw could not believe her luck. Crouching down, she prowled through the grass until she found the freshest trail. A moment later she spotted a twitch of brown scrabbling deep in the grass, and pounced.
The mouse darted away before her paws hit the ground, and she only flattened the tussock where it had been sitting a heartbeat before.
“I see you’re more accustomed to forest hunting.” Hawkfrost’s condescending mew made Leafpaw jump. She spun around to find the RiverClan warrior calmly watching her, his tail curled over his paws.
“Haven’t you got anything better to do?” she challenged him. “Like hunt for your own Clan?”
“I’ve already caught three mice and a thrush,” he meowed. “I think I have earned a rest.”
As Leafpaw searched for a sharp reply, Hawkfrost lifted his nose and scented the air. “Dog!” he hissed. “Heading this way.”
Leafpaw could hear the heavy pawsteps now, pounding through the grass. She stared around in terror, wondering which way to run.
“Get back to the hedge!” Hawkfrost commanded.
Leafpaw began to run, but an angry snarl made her freeze. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Hawkfrost arching his back at a snarling black-and-white dog. The RiverClan warrior let out a hiss and leaped back, lashing out to rake his claws across the dog’s snout.
“Brambleclaw! Squirrelpaw! Help!” Leafpaw yowled.
The dog lunged again; Hawkfrost sprang out of the way, but the dog turned in an instant and snapped at the air where Hawkfrost had been.
“Look out!” Brambleclaw burst out of the grass beside Leafpaw and leaped on to the back of the dog. He clung on with piercing claws as it bucked and howled and struggled to shake him off. Brambleclaw hung on, but the dog twisted its head back and clamped its jaws shut only a mouse-length from Brambleclaw’s face. Hissing in terror, Brambleclaw let go and was hurled to the ground. In the heartbeat it took him to recover, the dog had rounded on him, slavering with rage.
Just in time, Hawkfrost threw himself in front of Brambleclaw, aiming a flurry of thorn-sharp swipes at the dog’s muzzle. Brambleclaw scrambled to his paws and joined the attack. Leafpaw stood stiff-legged with horror, watching the two warriors turn and move and hunch their massive shoulders as though one were a reflection of the other.
The dog began to back away with its tail clamped between its legs. Hawkfrost reared up on his hind legs and hissed so menacingly that the dog yelped and ran for the hedge.
“Brambleclaw, are you all right?” Leafpaw gasped.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Good job I was here to save you,” Hawkfrost sneered.
“I saved you, in case you’ve forgotten,” Brambleclaw retorted.
Hawkfrost shrugged. “I suppose you did,” he admitted ungraciously.
“Well, I guess you scared that mutt off pretty well,” Brambleclaw conceded.
“What’s going on?” Squirrelpaw hurried out of the long grass. “I smell dog.”
“It attacked us. Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost scared it away,” Leafpaw reported.
“You’re kidding!” gasped Squirrelpaw.
“I’m going back now,” Hawkfrost announced abruptly. Their narrow escape didn’t seem to have made him any friendlier, and Leafpaw was quite happy to see the RiverClan warrior stalk away.
“Come on; let’s keep hunting,” meowed Brambleclaw. He bounded off through the grass.
“Come on, Leafpaw!” Squirrelpaw called over her shoulder. “You’ll need to eat well before we head into the mountains.”
Leafpaw looked up at the snow-dappled peaks. She wished she shared her sister’s courage. The Clans had struggled enough getting this far—how would the kits and elders cope with rocks and ice, and sheer, dizzying cliffs? How would the warriors and apprentices cope, for that matter? She shut her eyes and uttered a silent prayer to StarClan, but she felt hollow with dread as her words came echoing emptily back, as if there were no one there to listen.
CHAPTER 21
A bitter wind blew down from the mountains as the Clans joined the trail that led into the towering peaks. Heavy clouds blanketed the sky, and Leafpaw could tell by their yellow tinge that it would soon start snowing.
Brambleclaw and Stormfur were leading them along the side of a steep valley. It was as different from the forest as Leafpaw could possibly imagine. There were only a few trees, gnarled and stunted, clinging to the smooth grey stone, with nowhere that prey might live. Moons of desperate hunger had left the WindClan cats’ fur thin and useless against the chill, but they plodded grimly on with their heads down. Tallstar looked as brittle as a leaf, often leaning on Onewhi
sker, who rarely strayed from his side. ShadowClan looked little better, their eyes weary and their pace slow, and RiverClan appeared shabby, their gleaming coats nothing but a memory, half-forgotten, like the days when every cat had enough to eat.
One of Tallpoppy’s kits gazed up at the crags with eyes as wide as an owl’s. “Are we really going up there?”
“Yes,” Tallpoppy answered bleakly.
Morningflower paused, then stiffly lifted one paw and grazed her tongue across its pad.
“Are you all right?” Leafpaw asked the elderly she-cat. Blood welled between Morningflower’s claws. Leafpaw looked further up the line, where Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw padded side by side. “Squirrelpaw!”
Squirrelpaw turned at once.
“Can we stop? I need to dress Morningflower’s paw.”
“I’ll tell Firestar,” came the reply.
“Is there anything you need?” Brambleclaw meowed.
“Cobweb and comfrey, if possible.” Leafpaw gazed at the barren landscape with little hope of finding anything that would help.
Brackenfur, in the middle of the stream of cats, lifted his head. “We’ll find some,” he promised. He murmured to the cats around him. Mews rippled through the throng, and warriors of all Clans began to range out and search among the rocks.
Leafpaw examined Morningflower’s paw. “You’ve kept it clean,” she mewed. “But if you go on softening it with your tongue, it’ll never toughen.”
Barkface pushed his way forwards to join them. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just raw from walking,” Morningflower muttered.
“Will this do?” Russetfur came over and spat a mouthful of leaves onto the ground.
Leafpaw sniffed them cautiously. They didn’t smell like anything she was used to. She lapped up a leaf, letting its flavour seep into her tongue before she dared bite it. The taste was bitter, but it had an astringent flavour that reminded her of marigold. “It might do.” She glanced at Barkface. “Should we try it?”
Barkface sniffed a leaf. “It looks a little like something we used on the moors.”
“You may as well try,” Morningflower offered. “If it works, you can use it on others. I’ll let you know soon enough if it hurts too much.”
