Crowfeather's Trial

Crowfeather said nothing. The young she-cat was right that Nightcloud wasn’t in StarClan, and they had a good idea that she had gone to the Twolegplace, however unlikely that seemed. That’s why we’re here, he told himself determinedly, and we’re not going home until we know for sure what happened to her, one way or the other.

“Come on,” he urged his Clanmates. “We won’t find her standing around. Let’s follow the foxes.”

Ivypool and Bumblestripe padded over to join them as they turned in the direction of the fox trail, Ivypool taking the lead again while Bumblestripe tagged along at the end of the group. Crowfeather felt uncomfortable, almost as if he and his Clanmates were prisoners, but he had to admit they were lucky not to have ended up in a fight, or being chased off ThunderClan territory.

With so many cats involved in their mission, Crowfeather thought to himself, it was growing more and more likely that Onestar would discover what they had done. We’d better find Nightcloud, and then he can’t be too angry. There’s not much more he can do to me, but there might be trouble for the others.

The fox trail led in an almost straight line through the forest. Breezepelt kept his nose close to the ground as they followed it, here and there exclaiming that he had picked up Nightcloud’s scent. Crowfeather too thought that he could catch a trace of it, but as they padded onward, he felt his chest tighten with worry. Now and again he spotted the paw print of a desperately running cat, and he wondered how Nightcloud had managed to keep going, wounded as she had been by the stoats. Could she really have had the strength and speed to stay ahead of the foxes for so long?

Crowfeather could imagine the foxes encircling her, catching her and pulling her down, tearing her flesh. He couldn’t push away the thought that perhaps Yew hadn’t seen Nightcloud, but only another cat who looked like her. He had to halt and close his eyes, repeating inside his head, Yew said she smelled like me… She smelled like me…

Breezepelt’s voice came from close by. “Crowfeather, are you okay?”

Crowfeather shook his head as if he could drive out the images. “I’m fine,” he rasped, and padded on.

But the horrible visions still attacked Crowfeather’s mind, fierce as the warriors of the Dark Forest. He had to keep reminding himself that if the foxes had gotten Nightcloud, there would be blood and maybe even a body.

Or parts of a body. Please, StarClan, not that.

He shivered, but the chill had nothing to do with the frosty air of the snow-covered forest.

Eventually, Crowfeather could pick up the familiar tang of the ThunderClan scent markers; they had reached the border of ThunderClan territory. The fox trail led straight across it.

“Are you going any farther?” Ivypool asked.

“Of course!” It was Breezepelt who replied. “We’re not giving up until we find Nightcloud.”

Ivypool dipped her head; Crowfeather thought he could see a trace of approval in her eyes. “Then we’ll leave you here,” she continued. “And I give you permission to cross our territory again on your way back — but not to take prey. Of course, we will have to report this to Bramblestar.”

More trouble to come. Surely Bramblestar will discuss all this with Onestar. And Onestar will think even worse of me — if that’s possible. Aloud Crowfeather mewed, “Of course. And you might report the foxes, as well.”

“We know about the foxes,” Ivypool retorted. “We’re keeping an eye on them.”

Not a close-enough eye, Crowfeather thought, though he wasn’t about to start an argument. “Then thank you for your help,” he responded with a polite nod.

“May StarClan light your path,” Ivypool meowed. “I hope you find Nightcloud.”

As she spoke, there was genuine concern in her eyes and her voice. Crowfeather felt even more worried, guessing that Ivypool didn’t really believe that they had much chance of tracking Nightcloud down.

Ivypool turned, jerking her head for Bumblestripe to follow her. The ThunderClan tom gave the WindClan cats a last suspicious look as he turned away, and both cats disappeared into the undergrowth. Crowfeather let out a sigh of relief to see them go.

“Okay,” he meowed. “Let’s get going.”

His head held high, he crossed the ThunderClan border markings, and his Clanmates followed him into unknown territory.

For some time, the fox trail led on in a straight line as before, until the trees thinned out and Crowfeather began to pick up a new, acrid scent. “Monsters!” he exclaimed. “Of course… There’s a Thunderpath up ahead.”