by Erin Hunter
Pelt bushing, he turned and raced up the slope. Pushing hard against the rough grass, he pelted toward the heather. “Dawnstripe!” At his call, a grouse fluttered up from the bushes. He shouldered his way in, the stems scraping his muzzle as he raced along a rabbit trail.
“What in the name of StarClan are you doing?” Dawnstripe burst out of the heather and blocked his path.
Talltail skidded to a halt. “ShadowClan has been stealing prey and taking it through the tunnel!”
Dawnstripe’s pelt spiked. “Have you seen them?”
“I saw blood trails and ShadowClan scent was everywhere.”
Plumclaw stormed out behind Dawnstripe. “You scared off the grouse!” Her eyes blazed.
Aspenfall barged past her. “I was about to attack.”
Talltail squared his shoulders. “ShadowClan is using the tunnel under the Thunderpath to steal prey from the moor.” He glared at Aspenfall. “Go and tell Heatherstar. Bring warriors. We need to re-mark the border. They have to know that if they cross it again they face a fight.”
Aspenfall turned and pushed away through the heather.
“Come and see.” Talltail beckoned Dawnstripe to follow as he turned and headed back toward the tunnel.
He led her down the slope, Plumclaw close behind. “Ignore the monsters,” Talltail muttered as they neared the Thunderpath. “They’ll stick to their path.” He padded to the tunnel, pushing back the grass with a paw so that Dawnstripe could lean in and sniff the rabbit blood.
“It reeks of ShadowClan,” she growled, flinching away.
Plumclaw sniffed, frowning. “How long have they been doing this?”
Dawnstripe lashed her tail. “Quite a while, by the smell of it,” she hissed.
Talltail ripped the grass with his claws. “Heatherstar should keep a patrol here day and night.” Rage pulsed in his paws. “ShadowClan needs to learn that WindClan doesn’t give up prey without a fight.”
Dawnstripe eyed him. “Wasn’t it you who gave WindClan prey to RiverClan?”
Talltail bristled. “It was RiverClan’s prey to begin with,” he reminded her. “And they took it with my permission. They didn’t steal while our tails were turned.” He glared across the Thunderpath, blind to the monsters flashing past. “There’s a difference between a starving Clan and a thieving Clan.”
Plumclaw circled Dawnstripe, pelt ruffled. “How dare they—”
“Hush!” Talltail silenced her. Paw steps were thrumming through the tunnel, echoing against the stone walls.
“Attack!” A shriek ripped through the air. ShadowClan warriors streamed from the tunnel, eyes blazing with hate.
Talltail unsheathed his claws. “Invasion!”
CHAPTER 43
“ShadowClan, attack!” Cedarstar yowled as he charged up the slope. Ears flat, teeth showing, he raced at Dawnstripe. Talltail hurled himself in front of her.
“I don’t need your help!” she hissed, dodging around him to meet the ShadowClan leader head-on.
Paws slammed into Talltail’s side. White fur blinded him as Blizzardwing knocked him off his paws and lunged for his throat. Talltail rolled. Teeth snapped at his cheek, catching his whiskers and plucking them out. Talltail scrambled to his paws, reared up, and brought his claws down on Blizzardwing’s ears. Plumclaw was wrestling in the mud downslope, locked in combat with a ginger tabby. Did the tunneler have enough battle skills to fight him off? Dawnstripe shrieked with pain. Talltail whipped around. Newtspeck had joined Cedarstar. The black-and-ginger she-cat was battering Dawnstripe’s muzzle while Cedarstar raked her flank with vicious claws.
“You can’t save her, rabbit heart!” Blizzardwing snarled.
Talltail boiled with rage. “I’m no rabbit heart!” He dived forward, butting Blizzardwing’s shoulder with such force that the ShadowClan warrior staggered backward. Talltail ducked and nipped his forepaw and the tom fell to the ground, rolling onto his back. Leaping onto him, Talltail clung to his shoulders and churned his claws against Blizzardwing’s belly. He tipped his head away as Blizzardwing snapped at it, springing off before the tom could tear out more whiskers.
Plumclaw screeched with fury as a ShadowClan apprentice, Raggedpaw, joined the ginger tabby’s attack. The tunneler was beating them off with a flurry of blows, but they were driving her farther down the slope, closer to the monsters thundering past. Less than a tail-length from Talltail, Cedarstar wrestled Dawnstripe onto her spine. Newtspeck nipped at her thrashing hind legs. Blood stained her muzzle.
Dawnstripe! Talltail tried to jump toward her but claws pierced his flanks and Blizzardwing dragged him back. He glanced desperately up the slope. Had Aspenfall persuaded Heatherstar to send warriors? Dawnstripe shrieked. If help didn’t come soon, they’d have to retreat. Talltail turned and swiped Blizzardwing’s throat, rage surging through him.
Blizzardwing staggered back, his eyes lighting with surprise as blood splashed from his white scruff. “Not bad for a WindClan cat,” he hissed.
Snarling, Talltail lunged at the tom. Blizzardwing reared up on his hind paws. Talltail saw him totter, unbalanced by the slope. Twisting in the air, he aimed for the tom’s unsteady hind leg and sank in his teeth. Blizzardwing yowled with rage, and curling around, bit deep into Talltail’s shoulder. Pain scorched through him.
“Talltail!” Dawnstripe’s panicked screech ripped through the air.
Talltail twisted away from Blizzardwing. Cedarstar loomed over Dawnstripe as she writhed on the grass. Newtspeck leaned back, her lip curling in delight. Talltail braced himself to watch the ShadowClan leader deliver the death blow. Then he felt the ground tremble beneath him. Paws were thrumming toward them across the moor. Help is coming! If they could just hold the ShadowClan patrol for a few moments more. Energy surged beneath Talltail’s pelt. He ripped free of Blizzardwing’s grip, ignoring the burning sensation of losing fur.
Familiar pelts were streaking down the slope toward them. Reedfeather hared across the grass, his limp vanishing now that his blood was up. Hareflight, Cloudrunner, Redclaw, and Shrewclaw raced at his heels. Beside Talltail, Blizzardwing’s eyes stretched wide as Redclaw smashed into him, hissing. With a hefty blow, Cloudrunner sent Newtspeck staggering away from Dawnstripe while Reedfeather and Hareflight raced to help Plumclaw.
Shrewclaw glared at Cedarstar as the ShadowClan leader pinned Dawnstripe to the ground. Talltail saw hate gleam in his denmate’s gaze as Shrewclaw sprang onto Cedarstar’s back and dragged him off Dawnstripe. His claws sank deep. “This is for my mother! Remember Brackenwing?” Shrewclaw snarled. Jerking Cedarstar around, he slammed a hefty paw against the leader’s cheek. Blood spattered the grass as Cedarstar fell. Eyes blazing, Shrewclaw lunged at him again.
Talltail stared, shocked by the savagery of Shrewclaw’s attack. That’s what revenge is. There was nothing cold or planned about Shrewclaw’s rage. In the heat of battle, it drove him like fire through bracken. This was a true warrior’s battle.
Heart pounding, Talltail jumped in beside Shrewclaw, pummeling Cedarstar down as the ShadowClan leader tried to struggled free. Shrewclaw glanced in surprise at Talltail.
“I’ll help you kill him,” Talltail hissed.
Shrewclaw lifted his forepaws and together they swiped at the blood-spattered tom, driving him toward the Thunderpath.
“Cedarstar!” Newtspeck’s yowl split the air as the tabby warrior rushed to help her leader. She dived for Shrewclaw, ears flat, lips drawn back. She sank her yellow teeth into Shrewclaw’s shoulder, thrusting her paws around the WindClan warrior and hauling him off Cedarstar. Shrewclaw snarled and thrashed with his paws as he tried to reach for Cedarstar. But Redclaw had grabbed Cedarstar and was pinning him to the ground.
“Retreat!” Cedarstar fought free of Redclaw and fled for the tunnel.
At his cry, his warriors followed. As the last tail disappeared into the tunnel, Talltail heard a groan. He turned. “Shrewclaw!”
Hareflight was crouching over the WindClan warrior. Talltail r
aced to his side, slipping on the wet grass. He glanced down and saw his paws turn red. The wetness was blood. It pumped from Shrewclaw’s belly like water from the spring. “Fetch Barkface!” he shrieked to Dawnstripe. She met his gaze, her eyes glittering with horror, then dashed up the slope.
“Hang on, Shrewclaw.” Talltail leaned over his denmate, his heart twisting.
Hareflight crouched stiffly beside him. “He’ll die like his mother.” The warrior’s mew cracked. “Killed defending the moor against ShadowClan.”
“He won’t die!” Talltail growled. “He can’t! Not like this. It wouldn’t be fair.”
Life isn’t fair. Jake’s words rang in his ears.
Shrewclaw shuddered, another groan escaping his lips. Talltail pressed his paws against Shrewclaw’s wounds. Blood ran over his fur. “It won’t stop!”
“Wormcat?” Shrewclaw rasped weakly. “Avenge Brackenwing for me.”
“You can avenge her yourself!” Talltail gasped. “Don’t die, Shrewclaw. There are too many battles to fight.”
Shrewclaw twitched, his eyes rolling, then fell still.
Hareflight’s shoulders drooped. “Shrewclaw.” The word came out as a sob. Trembling, the brown warrior leaned forward and closed Shrewclaw’s eyes with a soft lap of his tongue. “You were a good apprentice,” he murmured. “And a great warrior. WindClan honors you.”
Talltail turned away, his gaze blurring. This battle had been fought over rabbits—and now Shrewclaw was dead. Were ShadowClan’s warriors so hungry they were willing to kill for stolen prey, or did their hatred for WindClan run deeper than he’d ever imagined?
CHAPTER 44
Talltail stretched, enjoying the warmth of the newleaf sun on his pelt. Beside him the heather was bright with green bud. Overhead, a blue sky stretched, cloudless, across the moor. In another half moon, the gorse would be aflame with yellow flowers.
He could hear Hopkit purring outside the medicine den as Hawkheart picked fleas from the young tom’s spine. Hopkit was well enough to groom his own pelt and should have moved back to the nursery by now. His fever had healed in the moon since the battle with ShadowClan, but the nursery was overcrowded. Pigeonkit and Sorrelkit were too big to share a nest, Meadowslip was restless, and Ryestalk had just moved in, her belly swelling with the promise of new kits.
“Sit still,” Hawkheart growled, cracking a flea between his teeth and spitting it onto the grass.
“Hawkheart?” Hopkit rolled lazily over. “If Heatherstar says I can’t become a warrior, do you think I could be a medicine cat?”
“No.” Hawkheart sat up. “You’re too fidgety.” He gazed across the clearing to where Barkface was making sure that Dawnstripe’s battle wounds had properly healed. “Besides, WindClan doesn’t need another medicine cat.”
Hopkit held up his paw. Although the infection had gone, his foot was limp and flat, and he had no feeling in it. “But how can I be a warrior with this?”
“You can walk on it, can’t you?” Hawkheart wasn’t giving a drop of sympathy.
“I can limp.”
Hawkheart snorted. “If you can limp, you can walk. If you can walk, you can hunt.”
“What about fighting?” Hopkit persisted. “What if I can’t fight?”
“Then you’ll just have to argue your enemies to death.” Hawkheart settled onto his side and half closed his eyes. “You’re great at arguing.”
“No, I’m not.”
Talltail’s whiskers twitched. He wondered if Hawkheart was mellowing now that gray whiskers were showing on his muzzle. But he suspected it was Hopkit’s warmth that had thawed the stern, old medicine cat.
Barkface headed across the clearing. Talltail sat up as he neared. “Is Dawnstripe okay?”
“She’s fine. An extra scar on her muzzle, but it’s healed cleanly.” Barkface settled down beside Talltail, narrowing his eyes against the bright sun. “I’m worried about Reedfeather’s shoulder, though,” he mewed. “The battle made it worse and he’s not getting any younger. If he strains it again, he could be lame for life.”
Talltail gazed across the Meeting Hollow to where the WindClan deputy lay beside Heatherstar, sharing a plover. Reedfeather’s pale tabby pelt looked as ragged as an elder’s. Talltail felt a pang of sorrow for the old warrior. He’d served his Clan loyally for moons. He deserved to be leader one day, but he’d never survive for another eight lifetimes.
The heather shivered as Palebird padded into the camp. A mouse hung from her jaws. Wrenkit looked up from where she was stalking Flykit behind the Hunting Stones. She bounded toward her mother. “Is that for us?”
Flykit chased after her, Bristlekit and Rabbitkit popping up from the grass and scrambling over the tussocks. Palebird dropped the mouse at Wrenkit’s paws. Wrenkit hooked it toward her with a claw. “Don’t worry, Palebird,” she told her mother earnestly. “I’ll make sure everyone gets a fair share.”
“You’re a good little warrior,” Palebird purred, before heading toward Talltail.
Talltail lifted his chin. “Hello, Palebird,” he meowed. “Good hunting?”
Palebird licked her lips. “Very good.”
Talltail was pleased to see Palebird catching her own prey again. She seemed a lot more cheerful now that she had begun to leave the camp to hunt.
Woollytail called to her from the bracken patch. “Did you bring something back for me?”
Palebird looked at him fondly. “Catch your own prey, you old badger! I’m already feeding four mouths.”
Woollytail flicked his tail happily but didn’t move from his nest.
“Do you think he misses the tunnels?” Talltail asked his mother.
“Of course,” Palebird meowed. “We all do. But at least I don’t have to worry about cave-ins anymore.”
Talltail shifted his paws. Cave-ins weren’t the only danger to warriors. Life aboveground held just as many risks. Once more, Shrewclaw’s death flashed in his mind. Talltail had managed to wash the young tom’s blood from his paws, but he couldn’t wash away the terrible memory. He tried to distract himself. “How’s Ryestalk settling in?” He nodded toward the nursery.
“Fine, but it’s crowded. She’ll be more comfortable once Heatherstar’s made Pigeonkit and Sorrelkit apprentices. They must be six moons by now. They’re as big as hares.”
“Is Ryestalk still grieving for Shrewclaw?” Talltail meowed.
“Of course,” Palebird told him, looking surprised. “But her grief will ease once she sees his kits.”
Knowing that Ryestalk carried the dead warrior’s kits had given comfort to the whole Clan, and they fussed over Ryestalk like she was a precious egg waiting to hatch. The young queen had more wool in her nest than an elder, and was never alone. Lilywhisker made sure there was always someone to watch her, bringing her food whenever her belly rumbled and fetching water-soaked moss if she mentioned thirst.
Guilt flickered through Talltail. “I wish I’d fought harder,” he mewed. “Shrewclaw might still be alive.”
Palebird’s gaze softened. “You can’t save everyone, Talltail.”
Outside the medicine den, Hopkit pounced lopsidedly as Hawkheart tossed a clump of moss for him to catch. Talltail straightened up, an idea flashing in his mind. “I might not succeed,” he murmured. “But I can try.” He trotted across the grass to the Meeting Hollow. “Heatherstar.” He stopped by her side. “May I speak with you?”
Reedfeather struggled to his paws. “Should I go?”
“No,” Talltail told him. Why shouldn’t the WindClan deputy know what he was planning?
“What is it?” Heatherstar sat up, licking a feather from her lips.
“I’d like to be Hopkit’s mentor,” Talltail announced.
Heatherstar blinked. “You think he’s fit enough to train?” She glanced past Talltail to the medicine den. Hopkit was chasing Hawkheart’s moss bundle in spirals, springing up to bat it down with his lame paw as it flew into the air.
Talltail followed her gaze. “Don’
t you?”
Reedfeather shifted his paws. “He looks agile.”
“He can play,” Heatherstar conceded. “But can he hunt or fight? Would he be any use in battle?”
“You might as well wonder if Pigeonkit can fight,” Talltail pointed out. “His legs are short. And Sorrelkit will never have the speed of Stagleap.”
“Or you.” Reedfeather dipped his head to Talltail.
“We all have our flaws,” Talltail pressed. “But we overcome them.” He suddenly thought of Jake. His friend’s kittypet softness hadn’t stopped him from leaping into battle with a fox. “And sometimes, it’s our flaws that make us who we are.”
Hopkit bounced again and again for the moss, undeterred even when he missed.
Reedfeather nodded toward the young tom. “He’s Clanborn,” he meowed. “What else can he be but a warrior? Would you confine him to the elders’ den for life?”
Heatherstar met her deputy’s gaze, then turned to Talltail. “Very well.” She stretched. “Let’s do it.” Leaping onto Tallrock, she called to her Clan. “Let all cats old enough to catch prey gather beneath Tallrock.”
Hickorynose sat up in the bracken patch beside Woollytail. “What’s going on?”
Woollytail lifted his head. “Let’s find out.”
“I think I know!” Hickorynose jumped out of the bracken and hurried toward the nursery, where Meadowslip was already squeezing out.
She met Hickorynose’s gaze hopefully. “Is it what I think it is?”
He glanced past her. “I think so. Where are they?” As he spoke, Pigeonkit and Sorrelkit scrambled through the gorse.
“Is it time?” Pigeonkit blinked up at Heatherstar.
Hickorynose smoothed the fur tufting on his shoulder. “Yes, it is.”
Sorrelkit looked at the medicine den. “What about Hopkit?” she asked quietly. Hopkit had stopped playing and was staring wistfully up at Heatherstar on top of Tallrock.
