Fawnstep crouched beside her. “It’s all right, Petalfall,” she soothed. “It will be over soon.”
A high-pitched moan came from between Petalfall’s clenched teeth. “Bring me two poppy seeds,” Fawnstep meowed to Quailheart. The tom hurried to the store, and Cloudstar hunkered down beside the sick cat.
“Two poppy seeds?” he queried. “Is that safe?” He knew that one poppy seed was usually all Fawnstep would allow a cat to eat.
Fawnstep didn’t take her eyes from Petalfall’s wretched, shaking body. “Would you rather she kept having these terrible fits? If I can keep her in a deep sleep, she’ll have a chance to rest and regain her strength.”
Cloudstar looked down at the sharp bones that seemed about to pierce the old cat’s pelt. It didn’t seem to him that Petalfall had a whisker of strength left in her frail body. She needed food more than sleep, but the Clan couldn’t give her that. Cloudstar swallowed the urge to yowl in despair.
Slowly, Petalfall stopped shaking. Cloudstar drew his tail softly over her flank. “Everything’s fine, Petalfall. Rest now.”
The old cat blinked, and one faded blue eye focused on Cloudstar. “Don’t lie to me, Cloudstar,” she rasped, so quietly that Cloudstar had to bend closer. He winced at the stench of her breath, and hoped she hadn’t noticed.
“I may be old, but I’m not dumb,” Petalfall croaked. “I know we are in great trouble. Oh my poor Clan. We have survived so much, yet now we will be destroyed by Twolegs.”
“No, Petalfall!” Cloudstar mewed in her ear. “SkyClan can still survive this!”
The clouded eye swiveled to hold his gaze with a stony glare. “Promise me, Cloudstar,” the old cat wheezed. “Promise me you will not let the Twolegs drive us from our home.”
“I promise,” Cloudstar whispered. “This is where SkyClan belongs. For as long as I have my nine lives, we will never leave the forest.”
CHAPTER 7
Faint, cream-colored beams of light filtered through the branches, heralding the sunrise. Cloudstar tried to straighten his hind leg without disturbing Petalfall. The old cat had eaten the poppy seeds and fallen into a deep slumber, broken only by rumbling snores. Cloudstar had stayed beside her, too troubled to close his eyes but unwilling to let Petalfall sleep alone. She was used to being warmed by the fur of the other elders close beside her.
“Cloudstar!” Fawnstep’s soft mew pierced the hushed den. “Stop wriggling, or you’ll wake Petalfall! Why don’t you go for a walk?” The medicine cat loomed out of the shadows. “Go on, I’ll lie beside Petalfall until she wakes.”
Cloudstar heaved himself up, stumbling on numb paws, and crept out of the den. Outside, the air was already warm and tiny flies buzzed around his ears. The camp was silent; it was too early even for the dawn patrols. Cloudstar crawled under the bramble bush and trotted through the quiet trees. For once, the forest was silent. It was too early for the Twolegs and their yellow monsters to be awake. But the silence felt wrong. Cloudstar’s ears buzzed as he strained to hear the sound of any other living creatures. There were no bird-calls greeting the dawn, no squirrels scampering along the branches, not even butterflies stirring with the first rays of the sun. The forest felt empty, lifeless, and for the first time in Cloudstar’s life, unwelcoming.
He emerged from the woods where the trees had been felled and stood on a splintered stump to survey the devastation. This part of the forest had changed beyond anything Cloudstar could recognize. Where was the tiny path used by badgers and deer that had led to the open heathland beyond? Or the holly bush that had once sheltered Cloudstar and his fellow apprentices during a hailstorm? All the trees had gone, and now the squares of gray stones were being covered with smaller, bright red stones. Some rows were tall enough to have gaps in them, some spaces reaching all the way to the ground and others stopping at the height of a young Twoleg. Something stirred in Cloudstar’s mind. These constructions looked familiar…half-built, but definitely something he had seen before.
Twoleg nests! The Twolegs are building new nests on SkyClan’s territory!
Cloudstar looked around him. This was his home! Not the Twolegs’! Cloudstar felt a pain in his chest as if a Clanmate had died. There would be no chance to reclaim this part of the territory. It was lost forever, to Twolegs and their kits and monsters. Would they stop here? Or keep swallowing up the forest, tree by tree, until nothing remained? Cloudstar felt a yowl rise in his throat, and he tipped back his head and let his cry echo his despair across the half-built stone nests.
“My home! My precious home!”
His legs felt heavy as stone as he made his way back to the camp. What was he going to tell the Clan? They deserved to keep some whisker of hope. Perhaps Cloudstar didn’t have to force them to face the truth yet—at least, not until he had figured out a way for them to survive this. When he crawled through the brambles, he knew this was not the time to tell them anything. A soft keening sound came from Fawnstep’s den; it was Starlingfeather and Hawksnow, mourning their denmate.
Fawnstep squeezed through the entrance to her den and trotted over to meet Cloudstar. “Petalfall died a few moments ago,” she mewed. Her eyes were clouded with sorrow. “She was peaceful at the end. She slept well after you promised her SkyClan would be okay.”
Cloudstar closed his eyes. Run swiftly to StarClan, Petalfall. Don’t look back. Your Clanmates will miss you, always.
Starlingfeather and Hawksnow emerged from Fawnstep’s den, rumps first, as they carefully dragged Petalfall’s body into the sunlight.
“We will sit vigil for her today,” Fawnstep explained to Cloudstar. “It’s so hot, we must bury her body at dusk.”
Cloudstar nodded. “Do you have enough herbs?” he asked. Quailheart had followed the elders out with a mouthful of soft green leaves, and was strewing them over Petalfall’s fur so that the clearing filled with their grassy scent.
“I think so,” Fawnstep replied. She looked at the nursery, her eyes troubled. “I’ll go tell Hazelwing so she can prepare the kits. Cloudstar, it’s rare I would give any orders to my Clan leader, but please, don’t go out on patrol today. You need to rest as much as any of us, and without you, the Clan will have no hope at all.” She ran her tail lightly along her spine as she padded away.
Cloudstar walked over and lay down beside Petalfall’s head. Her eyes were closed, and she looked as if she were sleeping. Go well in StarClan, my old friend. The air stirred beside him, and Birdflight sat down. She was already panting from the heat.
“Do you want to move to the shade?” Cloudstar suggested, but Birdflight shook her head.
“My place is here, beside Petalfall,” she meowed.
“It’s like another piece of our past has been ripped away, along with the trees,” Cloudstar murmured as he rested his muzzle on Petalfall’s herb-sweet cheek.
“I know,” mewed Birdflight. “Fawnstep told me you promised Petalfall everything would be fine, and SkyClan would not lose its home, but how can you be so certain? We cannot fight the Twolegs!”
“StarClan is watching over us,” Cloudstar reminded his mate. “If we give up, we are only showing that we don’t trust them to keep us safe. Have faith in them, especially now that Petalfall walks among the stars, too.”
“I wanted her to meet our kits,” Birdflight whispered.
“She will see them from wherever she is,” Cloudstar vowed.
Buzzardtail sent out the early patrols, leading one group himself before joining Cloudstar beside Petalfall. Hazelwing had ushered her kits past, the four of them wide-eyed with curiosity at the unmoving cat. Emberkit had tried to lick Petalfall’s ear to see if she tasted different now, and received a clout over her own ear from her angry mother. The whole camp was quieter than usual, muffled by sadness, yet the sun had scarcely reached the treetops before the rumbling of the monsters started up, and now Petalfall’s fur quivered gently from the tremors through the earth.
Buzzardtail settled beside Cloudstar for his vigil. They sat in s
ilence, breathing in the scent of the herbs, each with his own memories of the former deputy. Birdflight had retreated to the shade, where she lay on her side, panting in spite of the soaked moss Fawnstep had placed beneath her head.
Suddenly the brambles crackled and Mousefang burst into the clearing. “Fetch Fawnstep!” she cried.
Behind her, Nightfur’s black pelt emerged from the thorns, rump first as he guided his apprentice Oakpaw through the branches. The gray tabby tom was smeared with mud and held one front paw off the ground, wincing every time he lurched forward on his other three legs. Cloudstar leaped to his feet.
“What happened?” he demanded.
Nightfur was grim faced. “We were hunting at the edge of the trees.” He nodded toward the border ravaged by Twolegs. “Oakpaw found a squirrel and chased it onto the empty ground, where the Twolegs are laying red stones. He fell into a ditch they must have dug.”
Fawnstep had run from her den by now and was sniffing Oakpaw’s shoulder. “You’re lucky,” she commented. “I don’t think any bones are broken. Come to my den and I’ll find something to help with the pain.” She led Oakpaw away, letting him rest his weight on her shoulder.
Buzzardtail came to join Cloudstar and Nightfur. “Fawnstep’s right,” he growled. “Oakpaw was lucky to get off so lightly. He could have broken his neck!”
Cloudstar nodded. “It’s too dangerous to try to hunt there anymore. From now on, no cat must go anywhere near the new border, not even if all the squirrels in the forest are sitting on the other side.”
Nightfur looked at him in surprise. “But we have to eat!”
“More importantly, we have to stay alive,” Cloudstar pointed out. “That territory no longer belongs to SkyClan. The Twolegs have stolen it from us, and there is nothing we can do. We will have to look for some other way to find enough food.”
CHAPTER 8
“Weaselwhisker, you take Fernpelt, Stoatfur, and Acornpaw and hunt along the river. You might get lucky and find a vole’s nest, if you don’t mind getting your paws wet. Mousefang, your patrol can hunt—”
“Buzzardtail, wait!” Cloudstar ordered, striding out of his den. He dipped his head to the deputy, apologizing for interrupting him. “No cats will hunt today. I want all of them—warriors as well as apprentices—to do battle training.”
Buzzardtail stared at him in surprise. “But the fresh-kill pile is almost empty! With so little prey in the forest, we have to hunt as much as we can!”
“No,” meowed Cloudstar, his heart as heavy as stone. His eyes burned from his sleepless night, thrashing in his nest as he realized there was only one chance left to find enough food for his Clan. “We have to fight.”
“We can’t take on the Twolegs!” Weaselwhisker protested.
Cloudstar shook his head. “Not the Twolegs. ThunderClan. We need to take back the territory that Duskstar gave to them. Without it, we don’t have enough hunting grounds to support the Clan.”
Buzzardtail gave Cloudstar a long, thoughtful look. “Duskstar would have done the same,” he mewed quietly. “You’re not breaking the warrior code.”
Cloudstar wasn’t even sure that Duskstar—or any StarClan cats—were watching SkyClan anymore. His dreams had been empty since that night the former leaders had reassured him of how strong SkyClan was, how they would live in the forest forever.
Buzzardtail started reorganizing the patrols. The apprentices looked excited about the change in routine. “We’ve been hunting for days!” Acornpaw meowed. “I can’t wait to try the sky-drop again!”
“I want to practice the reverse branch swing,” Mintpaw mewed. “I kept falling off the branch last time, but I’m definitely strong enough to hold on now.”
The warriors were quieter, and Cloudstar wondered if they had realized how desperate he was, that he was prepared to go back on Duskstar’s word. He stood in the center of the clearing and watched the patrols vanish into the bushes. SkyClan warriors fought by leaping out of trees, swinging from branches, using height and weight to overpower their enemies. It had been moons since they had gone into battle against another Clan, beyond a mere border skirmish. Every bone in Cloudstar’s body ached at the thought of leading his Clanmates into a fight when they were weakened by hunger and sleepless from fear of what the Twolegs were doing in their territory. But he could not see any choice. They had to expand their territory somehow.
At sunrise the following day, Cloudstar gathered the Clan beneath the gnarled thorn tree. He balanced on the spindly branches at the top of the gorse bush and gazed down at them in the soft dawn light.
“Clanmates, it is time to take back what is rightfully ours. I will be at the head of the attack, with Buzzardtail behind me. You will all get the chance to fight—except for you, Snailpaw and Mintpaw.” The two apprentices let out wails of disappointment.
“But we want to fight!” Mintpaw protested. “We practiced really hard yesterday, and I only fell off the branch three times!”
“We’re not scared,” Snailpaw added, puffing out his soft brown fur.
“No cat doubts your courage,” Cloudstar promised. “But I need strong, brave cats to stay behind and guard the queens and elders. Will you two do that for me? I know Tansypaw will help you as much as she can.”
Their cream-colored littermate straightened up. She still walked with a limp where she had wrenched her shoulder, and hadn’t been able to join in with the training the day before. Cloudstar prayed that these brave young cats wouldn’t be called upon to defend their Clanmates while the others were away. But they were too small to take into battle, and he had to find some way of easing the frustration of being left behind.
Cloudstar looked at his warriors. They all looked thin and tired, their fur matted and their eyes sunk in their heads as if they were ready to join the elders. Somehow, we must find strength to fight for this territory. “Cats of SkyClan!” he declared. “Today is a glorious day! Today we have the chance to reset our border marks, to make ThunderClan realize that we will no longer tolerate their trespassing on what was SkyClan’s hunting ground long before theirs.”
“Yes!” cheered the warriors at the foot of the hazel bush. “We’ll drive out those mangy intruders and show them that SkyClan deserves to hunt here instead!”
Buzzardtail caught Cloudstar’s eye and nodded. It was time to leave. The deputy started to divide the warriors into three attack patrols, while Cloudstar jumped down from the tree. Birdflight was waiting for him. Her amber eyes were full of fear. For a moment Cloudstar was afraid she was going to tell him not to fight, to save his life for the sake of their kits.
“Even though I cannot fight alongside you,” Birdflight meowed solemnly, “I will always be with you in your heart. Let me be your courage and your strength.” She rested her muzzle against his shoulder, and Cloudstar breathed in her scent one more time.
He lifted his head to meet her gaze and whispered, “We have to win this battle. If we don’t, everything is lost.”
“Remember, I am in your heart,” she whispered back.
Cloudstar straightened up and stalked across the clearing to lead his warriors out of the camp.
“To ThunderClan!” he yowled, and raced into the brambles.
The SkyClan cats launched themselves across the ThunderClan boundary and started pushing through the undergrowth to set new border marks on the far side of the oak trees. Cloudstar and Buzzardtail had made it clear what their plan was: set new marks, resist all challenges, and let ThunderClan know that SkyClan would no longer tolerate trespassers in this part of the forest. Cloudstar’s patrol was only a few strides over the boundary when they crashed into a ThunderClan border patrol.
Startled faces whirled to look at them. “What in the name of StarClan…?” yowled the ThunderClan warrior in the lead.
“We’re being attacked!” snarled his Clanmate, unsheathing his claws.
“Trespassers!” hissed a third.
“No, you’re the trespassers!” Cloudstar growled. ?
??This is SkyClan’s territory once more.”
The first warrior let out a yelp of amusement. “Oh, really? Prove it!” He sprang at Cloudstar, landing squarely on his tender spine and sinking his teeth into Cloudstar’s scruff.
Weaselwhisker leaped forward and hauled the ThunderClan warrior off, holding him down and pummeling him with his hind paws. Another ThunderClan jumped onto Weaselwhisker, and his brown-and-ginger pelt vanished in a flurry of fur and kicked-up leaves. Cloudstar launched himself into the tangled heap of warriors, claws out, just as more ThunderClan cats burst out of the ferns. The forest was split with shrieks and hisses as ThunderClan realized it was under attack and raced to defend its borders.
Cloudstar managed to haul Weaselwhisker out of the throng and held off one of the ThunderClan warriors while the brown-and-ginger tom caught his breath. Cloudstar risked a glance around and saw that the SkyClan cats were scrambling up into the trees. Yes! Fight to your strengths! he urged. The ThunderClan warriors watched, frustrated, as their enemies vanished among the branches.
“Come back and fight!” snarled one of them, flicking specks of blood from her muzzle. “Cowards!”
There was a moment’s silence, then the trees exploded with cats leaping into the air. Nightfur, Weaselwhisker, and Acornpaw plunged onto a sturdy gray tom called Nettleclaw. Cloudstar felt a surge of satisfaction, then stared in dismay as the warrior shook the cats off as if they were thistledown and pounced on Acornpaw before the apprentice could find his paws. Cloudstar raced over to help, but claws seared his pelt from behind and he staggered backward, feeling hot stinking breath on his neck fur.
He whipped around and saw Seedpelt snarling at him. “SkyClan needs to learn to respect our borders,” she hissed, lunging at him and raking her claws across his muzzle. Cloudstar shook blood from his nose and reared up to scratch the ThunderClan deputy’s ears, but she dodged away, well fed and strong.