Dawn

“Are you sure?” Stormfur asked. “They’re easy to catch now that the water’s dropped.”

“So I was right. The level is lower than usual,” Squirrelpaw mewed, gazing again at the shallow stream. “Is something wrong?”

Stormfur shrugged. “Just a dry spell. This rain will get it flowing again.”

Squirrelpaw picked up a trace of Sasha’s stale scent on the breeze. She glanced at Stormfur; the mystery of the river seemed suddenly less important than how the rest of RiverClan felt about the rogue she-cat who seemed to come and go as she wished—and whose kits had so much influence in their adopted Clan. “We saw Sasha this morning,” she began.

“You know Sasha?” Stormfur looked surprised. “Oh, I forgot. You met her when you rescued Mistyfoot, didn’t you?

When… when my father was taken.”

His voice trailed away, and Squirrelpaw pressed her flank against his. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured helplessly.

Stormfur nudged her with his nose. “So am I. I wish I could have been there to help,” he meowed. “But my father made his own decision to help the trapped cats.” He took a deep breath before he went on. “Thanks to him we got Mistyfoot back. The whole of RiverClan were amazed when she showed up.”

“Hawkfrost especially, I’m sure,” Brambleclaw commented. Squirrelpaw shot him a warning glance. Hawkfrost had been made deputy when Mistyfoot disappeared, which meant he might not have welcomed Mistyfoot back with the same enthusiasm as every other cat, but was Brambleclaw giving away too much interest in Sasha’s kit? They couldn’t be sure how much Stormfur knew about Hawkfrost’s parentage.

“Well, I doubt he wanted to stop being deputy quite so soon,” Stormfur agreed. “But he welcomed her return as much as any cat. He’s a good warrior. He knows he’ll be deputy one day, and he doesn’t mind waiting.”

“He sounds very confident,” Squirrelpaw remarked carefully.

“He’s always been like that,” Stormfur replied. “What’s more important is that he’s totally loyal to the Clan, and sticks to the warrior code like a caterpillar to a leaf.”

Squirrelpaw blinked. Somehow she didn’t think Stormfur had the faintest idea of who Hawkfrost’s father was. She looked at Brambleclaw, trying to read his reaction, but Brambleclaw had something else on his mind.

“Do you think there’s any chance Leopardstar will change her mind about leaving the forest?”

“Leopardstar says she’s not going anywhere as long as there’s fish in the river,” Stormfur told him.

“Doesn’t she care about the Clans staying together?”

Squirrelpaw demanded.

“She did ask Mudfur if he’d had any sign from StarClan, just to be sure,” Stormfur told her defensively. “But Mudfur hasn’t left his nest much recently.”

“So he’s had no sign either?” Squirrelpaw asked, disappointed.

“Nothing.” Stormfur sighed. “It looks like the sign Midnight promised us isn’t going to come, now that the Twolegs have destroyed Fourtrees.”

“Perhaps we’ve seen the sign but just not realized what it was,” Squirrelpaw wondered out loud.

“Well, we’ve seen plenty of dying since we got back,” Brambleclaw muttered darkly. “Not just warriors, but kits and apprentices, too. But you know what? I’m beginning to think that no cat’s going to show us the way. Wherever we’re going, we’ll have to find our own way there.”

Chapter 12

Leafpaw raked through the fur at the base of her tail, scraping out the troublesome flea. She cracked its fat body between her teeth, tasting with some satisfaction the blood it had stolen from her. “Got it!”

“Don’t tell the others you had an extra piece of fresh-kill,” Squirrelpaw joked. “They’ll all want one.”

Leafpaw’s belly growled. The vole she had just shared with her sister had barely touched her hunger. They were lying side by side in a shallow dip in the stone, watching the sun sink behind Sunningrocks. The clouds had cleared, and a perfect half-moon hung in the blue evening sky.

“Has Cinderpelt decided whether you’re going to make the journey to the Moonstone tonight?” Squirrelpaw meowed.

“She’s speaking with Firestar about it now,” Leafpaw replied. The medicine cats of every Clan met each half-moon at Mothermouth to share tongues with StarClan.

They didn’t need the half-moon to secure a truce—medicine cats lived outside the differences between Clans that sometimes led to quarrels—but it was an important time for sharing concerns and advice about treating their Clanmates.

Leafpaw saw Cinderpelt emerge, and she clambered to her paws, keen to find out if they would be going to Highstones in spite of the dangers that lurked in the forest.

But Cinderpelt shook her head as she came over and stood at the edge of the hollow. “Firestar agrees with me,” she reported. “We can’t risk the journey with so many Twolegs and monsters about.”

“But we need to share with StarClan now more than ever!”

Leafpaw protested.

“Firestar says he cannot risk losing us, and he’s right.

Where would the Clan be without a medicine cat?”

Leafpaw sighed and scraped at the rock with her claw.