Alderpaw staggered to his paws, his legs stiff after the night spent in vigil. “Let me say the proper farewell to her.” He took a deep breath, looking up at the sky where a few warriors of StarClan still lingered. “May
StarClan light your path, Sandstorm,” he meowed, speaking the words used by medicine cats for season upon season. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”
All the cats bowed their heads for a moment.
“We need to find a good spot for her burial,” Molewhisker mewed after a moment.
“What about under these bushes where she died?”
Cherryfall shook her head. “She’d be hidden from the stars there. Just beside the bushes would be better.”
Molewhisker nodded agreement. As he and Cherryfall were preparing to move Sandstorm’s body, he said quietly, “I think we should consider turning around and going home. This quest might be doomed.”
“What?” It was Needlepaw who spoke, her neck fur bristling. “Sandstorm died trying to help us complete this quest. If we stop now, won’t she have died in vain?”
Molewhisker swung around on her. “It’s not your decision,” he spat, his voice sharp as a claw. “In case it escaped your notice, you’re not a ThunderClan cat.”
Alderpaw felt his whole pelt quiver as he listened to the quarrel breaking out. Not waiting for Needlepaw’s response, he turned and padded away, keeping to the line of the fence they had crossed two days before. He just wanted to get out of earshot, to find a little peace and quiet where he could think.
His chest fur burned with grief for Sandstorm, and his head swam with indecision.
Looking up, he saw that the last starry spirits had vanished and the sky was brightening toward sunrise.
Letting out another long sigh, he spoke aloud. “What am I going to do?”
“Tell them the truth,” a voice replied.
Alderpaw started and swung around, arching his back, even while he recognized the voice as Needlepaw’s. The ShadowClan cat showed none of her usual mischief as she approached him.
“The others have come this far,” she began, “and they won’t turn away from you now. You must go on. But first you must tell the others the truth about why you’re on this journey.”
“Do
“No, I don’t. I only heard a little bit of what you and Sandstorm said,” Needlepaw admitted, her eyes serious. “But I know there’s more behind it than you’ve told us, and I think it’s time every cat knew the truth. If you don’t tell them, I will.” As Alderpaw opened his jaws to protest, she added, “Or I’ll tell them what I know, and that will force you to tell the rest.”
Alderpaw stared at her in outrage. “I didn’t think you would betray me like that!”
Needlepaw flinched as if he had struck her a blow. “It’s not a betrayal,” she said, defending herself. “I’ve seen how you think things over—and over and over and over again. I know you’d never tell the others the truth on your own, but I think it’s important for them to know.”
“Why?” Alderpaw challenged her.
“It will help bind them together after losing Sandstorm,” Needlepaw explained; Alderpaw realized she must have thought long and hard about this. “And it will help every cat recognize how important the quest is. I saw how you and Sandstorm looked at each other when you talked about it; I know how serious it is.”
Alderpaw thought about that, then gave a nod, trying to hide his surprise.
The gleam returned to Needlepaw’s eyes.
“First, let’s go hunting,” she suggested. “Full bellies will help the truth go down easier!”
Alderpaw was about to argue when he felt a gnawing in his belly and realized that no cat had hunted since the previous morning. “You’re right,” he responded. “I’ll hunt with you.”