Path Of A Warrior

There was a long moment of hesitation. The Tribe cats stared at Stoneteller, their thin sides rising and falling quickly beneath their soaked and matted fur.

“There’s no time to waste!” Shadowkit yowled, but no cat moved.

I believe in Shadowkit, Tawnypelt thought. There was a rock that rose almost to her shoulder by the edge of the stream, and she braced her paws against it and pushed. The stone shifted. Gathering her strength, she pushed again, and the rock slid toward the river.

Another pelt brushed hers. “Together,” Dovewing meowed, and put her paws beside Tawnypelt’s on the rock. They heaved, and the stone tumbled into the river. Behind her, Tawnypelt sensed the other cats moving. A little farther upstream, Stormfur’s stocky shoulders worked as he forced a boulder into the water. Lark and Pine were working together. Every cat was scrabbling at the surface of the banks, working their paws beneath the stones to loosen them, shoving with legs and flanks. They were soaked, exhausted, and plastered with mud, but determined.

“Faster! Please!” Shadowkit yowled, pacing back and forth beside the river.

As more rocks were pushed into the edges of the water, the current changed, flowing faster still as it was forced into a narrower channel. Tawnypelt began to roll another rock farther into the river. As she stepped into the water, the current slammed into her, pushing her hard against the rock. She braced herself and moved on, her side aching from the blow. Stormfur followed her, shoving a rough chunk of stone ahead of him, and a broad-shouldered cave-guard came behind him.

Stoneteller was in the water, too, his eyes slitted against the storm, fiercely determined.

We’re doing it. Already, a line of stones ran almost all the way across the river, water splashing against and pouring over them.

“Roll one along here,” Breeze yowled. The to-be was right in the middle of the river. A wave of water washed over her back, but she braced herself and waded toward the rock Night was pushing toward her.

Suddenly, a fresh wave of water hit Breeze head-on. The to-be slipped and disappeared under the surface.

“Breeze!” Brook yowled in horror from the riverbank. The young cat’s head popped up and she gasped for breath before being pulled under again and swept quickly toward the waterfall.

“Breeze!” Brook and Stormfur and several other cats plunged into the water, but Tawnypelt was closest. Diving forward, she sank her teeth into the scruff of Breeze’s neck. The weight of the to-be’s struggling body made her stagger a few steps toward the waterfall, her stomach lurching with fear. Bracing her legs against the bottom of the river, she steadied. Dragging Breeze with her, Tawnypelt fought her way to shallower water, where Breeze was able to get her paws under her again.

“Th-th-thanks,” Breeze stammered, shivering with cold.

“You saved her!” Brook yowled, wading out to them and looking her daughter over for injuries.

“We can never thank you enough, Tawnypelt,” Stormfur said solemnly, brushing his cheek against hers. At the joy in her old friend’s eyes, Tawnypelt felt warm inside despite the freezing-cold water soaking her fur.

“There’s no time!” Shadowkit was staring upstream, his amber eyes wide and his fur fluffed out into spikes. Instinctively, Tawnypelt and the other cats turned to follow his gaze.

The horizon seemed dark and empty. “What is—” Dovewing began to ask.

CRACK! Thunder boomed at the same time as a flash of bright white light dazzled them, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the water in the distance. Tawnypelt’s fur stood on end, the fizz of lightning running through her. “That was close,” she muttered.

“Look!” Stoneteller’s meow was horrified.

Far upstream, a huge dark shape was in the water, rapidly being borne toward them.

“It’s a tree. A tree from higher up the mountain,” Stormfur said, sounding stunned.

“It’s huge!” Bird whimpered.

“We have to get more rocks into the stream,” Stoneteller ordered. “Quickly. If a tree that big goes over the waterfall, it could destroy the whole cave.”

Panicking now, the cats waded into the water, pushing more stones into the heaped-up line in the river. Tawnypelt shoved a stone into place, her muscles straining, and immediately turned to help maneuver another, bracing it against one beneath the water. Her heart was pounding. No time, no time. What would the Tribe do if they lost their cavern? How would they survive a winter, homeless in the mountains?

The dark shape was closer now, sweeping around a bend in the river.

“Get out of the water!” Stoneteller yowled. The tree was too close; there was nothing more they could do. Either the rocks would hold the tree back, or the Tribe’s cave would be lost.

Tawnypelt raced with the others to the riverbank, then wheeled around, staring at the tree as the river flung it toward them. Her heart was pounding and her mouth was dry with panic.