Crowfeather's Trial

When the meeting was over, Harespring sent out the dawn patrol and the usual hunting patrols, though he left out the six cats who had been chosen to go to the tunnels. At sunhigh they gathered with their Clanmates around the fresh-kill pile to eat before they set out. Crowfeather crouched to gulp down a mouse, half turned away from his son and his former mate.

“I think there may be rats in the tunnels,” Gorsetail mewed between mouthfuls of vole. “And maybe what Hootpaw saw was a snow-white cat — a kittypet — going in after them.”

“So you don’t think the cat was a ghost, then?” Leaftail asked.

Gorsetail’s gray-and-white tail curled up in amusement. “Well, if it wasn’t a ghost then, it may be one now! Only a kittypet would be mouse-brained enough to try fighting a whole colony of rats by without backup.”

“But isn’t that sort of what we’re doing?” Slightpaw asked; Crowfeather noticed how confident the young cat seemed among a group of warriors. “We’re only sending six cats, and who knows how many… whatever… there are down there.”

“We’re sending six of our best cats,” Onestar pointed out. “I trust WindClan warriors to defeat anything that might be in the tunnels!”

Slightpaw nodded, accepting what his Clan leader told him, though Crowfeather spotted some of the others exchanging dubious glances.

They’re probably suspicious of Breezepelt, he thought. He had to admit to himself that he wasn’t sure how his son would react when he had to go down deep into the tunnels. If the darkness stirred up Breezepelt’s old fears, Crowfeather hoped that he wouldn’t give in to panic. That would embarrass both of us.

“I sort of hope we do see ghost cats,” Heathertail mewed wistfully. “I’d like to see the cats we lost in the battle — it’s usually only medicine cats who get to talk with the warriors of StarClan.”

“But it wasn’t ghost cats,” Onestar reminded her gently.

“That’s true,” Kestrelflight added. “Don’t you think that if there were, the medicine cats would know about it?”

“But just suppose our Clanmates did return as ghosts,” Larkwing murmured. “What would we say to them, do you think?”

“I’d say we were sorry,” Whitetail responded. “Sorry that they never got to live out their lives as members of their Clan.”

“I’d tell them we loved them,” Leaftail added softly.

The other cats’ eyes were filled with sorrow, and their heads and tails were drooping. Crowfeather became aware of a great tide of grief and loss surging through his Clanmates. His own lost ones came back into his mind, with pain sharper than a badger’s claws.

Ashfoot… and Feathertail… and Leafpool. She isn’t dead, but she’s lost to me, just as if she were.

“That’s enough,” Onestar meowed as the murmurs of regret continued. “We must not look back, or we could drown in our grief. Perhaps that is what Kestrelflight’s vision is about.”

“But how do we avoid grief?” Whitetail asked. “Our loss is all around us.”

“We look forward,” Onestar responded, his voice full of determination. Glancing across at Crowfeather, he added, “First we figure out what is really in the tunnels.”

Crowfeather looked back at his Clan leader and gave him a single nod. Even though they both shared doubts over Hootpaw’s claims of seeing ghost cats, Crowfeather knew that Onestar was happy to have a clear task. A patrol to establish the safety of their borders after the Great Battle might be just the thing that would restore calm to WindClan.

Chapter 3

“I think we should stick together in the tunnels,” Breezepelt announced as the patrol headed down the hill. “Who knows what might be lurking in there?”

How stupid! Crowfeather’s neck fur rose with his annoyance. “Do you have bees in your brain?” he asked harshly. “How can we possibly expect to search the whole tunnel system if we stick together? No, we’ll have to split up into smaller groups.”

Breezepelt glared at him, seeming about to defend himself, then turned away abruptly and bounded off down the hill, leaving the rest of the patrol behind. Too late, Crowfeather felt a twinge of regret, realizing that his son had probably suggested that they should stay together because he was afraid. But it was still mouse-brained.

“Did you have to be so brutal?” Nightcloud asked, echoing his thoughts as she came to pad alongside Crowfeather.

“Oh, who’s that? You’re speaking to me now, are you, Nightcloud?” Crowfeather retorted, not sure whether he was pleased or annoyed. “I didn’t realize. You’ve barely said a word to me since the Great Battle.”

Nightcloud let out an irritated sigh. “I didn’t have anything to say before. I do now.”

Crowfeather rolled his eyes. “Well, this should be good. Go on, then. I’m listening.”