Hawkwing’s belly clenched at the thought that Leafstar was to be plunged into the same well of bottomless grief, and didn’t even know it yet. He remembered Cherrytail telling him how Leafstar had changed SkyClan’s warrior code that said a she-cat leader couldn’t have a mate or kits, so that she could be with Billystorm. She loves him so much. . . . Their kits, Stormheart, Harrybrook, and Firefern, would all be devastated, too.
Billystorm was such an important part of SkyClan. I can’t imagine how I’m going to find the words.
He couldn’t stop thinking, too, about whether Darktail might have meant to lead them into danger. He had felt so hopeful when he had encountered Darktail at the site of the fire, believing that he was part of the prophecy. Now he saw how wrong he was, how he had unleashed an evil cat upon his Clan.
I hope he’s still living with the Clan. I want to talk to him face-to-face—and I’ll find the words for him, all right!
The patrol had just crossed the SkyClan border scent markers when Hawkwing heard paw steps ahead of them, and Rabbitleap, Plumwillow, and Nettlesplash emerged into the open, letting out loud caterwauls and hurling themselves at Waspwhisker.
“Calm down, calm down,” Waspwhisker gasped, staggering under the force of his kits’ welcome. “You’re going to lick me to death!”
It’s a good thing Billystorm’s kits aren’t patrolling, Hawkwing thought. What would we say when they asked where their father is? All the questing cats had agreed that Leafstar had to be the first to know that her mate was dead.
“It’s great that you’re safe!” Plumwillow exclaimed, her eyes shining. “Did you find the other Clans?”
Waspwhisker shook his head. “No, we didn’t.”
“And where’s Billystorm?” Nettlesplash added.
To Hawkwing’s relief, Waspwhisker avoided the question. “We need to talk to Leafstar right away.”
“Yes, you should do that,” Rabbitleap meowed.
Hawkwing noticed that once their first delight on seeing their father had ebbed away, all the cats in the patrol seemed somber, and were exchanging uneasy glances with each other.
What’s the matter with them? he wondered. Are they still sad about Duskpaw? Are they worried because Billystorm isn’t with us? Or has something else bad happened?
Apprehension gathered inside Hawkwing like a heavy fog as he wondered whether his last question might be close to the truth. The border patrol continued, and Waspwhisker led the way to the edge of the cliff and down into the camp.
As he descended the trail behind his Clanmates, Hawkwing realized that there were far fewer cats out and about in the camp than he was used to.
“Where is every cat?” Blossomheart asked, echoing his thought.
No cat answered her, and Hawkwing’s apprehension deepened.
Waspwhisker headed first to Leafstar’s den, but the Clan leader wasn’t there, so he and the other questing cats continued down the trail. As they reached the bottom of the gorge, Hawkwing caught a whiff of a scent that was strange and familiar at the same time.
I don’t know what animal left that, he thought, pausing to drink in the air and try to identify the scent. But I’ve smelled it somewhere before.
Then Hawkwing remembered. It was the same scent that he and Ebonyclaw had picked up on the border, on the day that Duskpaw died. Did something happen here? Was that animal somehow involved?
Dismay swept over Hawkwing as he realized that he had never reported the strange scent to Leafstar. Right after he and Ebonyclaw had noticed it, they had smelled the fire, and then Duskpaw’s death had driven everything else out of his mind. Did Ebonyclaw report it? Hawkwing guessed not.
With an effort Hawkwing brought himself back to the present, and spotted Patchfoot crouching beside the stream, leaning over to lap the swirling water. Waspwhisker led the way toward him.
“Hi, Patchfoot,” the gray-and-white tom meowed. “Have you seen Leafstar?”
Patchfoot looked up, shaking water droplets from his whiskers. “Yes, she’s in Echosong’s den. It’s good to see you back,” he added, though Hawkwing felt that he too seemed in a somber mood, not at all like his usual cheerful self.
Something is seriously wrong here.
As he and the rest of the patrol headed toward the medicine cats’ den, Hawkwing felt his paw land on something strange. Glancing down, he saw a thing like a leaf wrap, but made of something thin and shiny, in garish colors. He bent his head to sniff it, and picked up the scent of Twoleg food.
For a moment Hawkwing was overwhelmed with memories of Duskpaw. He loved Twoleg food so much! But then he began to ask himself questions. What’s a Twoleg food wrap doing here? Have Twolegs been in the camp? Or did it blow over here? Maybe the fire dislodged some old Twoleg food scraps. . . . But Hawkwing couldn’t find any answers to his questions. There was no good reason for the Twoleg food wrap to be in their camp.
Waspwhisker and the others had continued on, and Hawkwing ran to catch up to them as they reached Echosong’s den. On entering, he was shocked to see that Echosong was lying in her nest, injured; there was a fresh notch on one of her ears and cobweb was wrapped around one of her forelegs. Her apprentice, Frecklewish, was giving her a drink from a bundle of wet moss, while Leafstar bent over her, talking quietly.
“Echosong!” Blossomheart exclaimed. “What happened to you?”
Echosong paused in lapping the moss and feebly lifted her head. “I’ll be fine, really.”
“Echosong was wounded,” Leafstar added, “but she’s healing well, and Frecklewish is taking good care of her.”
The Clan leader’s voice was deeply serious, and Hawkwing wondered if she already knew the terrible news they had to tell. Maybe because she and Billystorm were so close, she could sense that something had happened to him. But no, that’s not possible . . . is it?
Hawkwing’s heart began to thump harder and harder as he braced himself to tell Leafstar that her mate was dead. It felt even more difficult now that he had to look her in the face. But before he could find words, his Clan leader spoke again.
“Come outside with me,” she mewed with a wave of her tail. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Hawkwing and the rest of the patrol followed Leafstar into the open and clustered around her to listen. Hawkwing could see from the others’ uneasy glances that they shared his apprehension about what had happened in their absence.
“While you were on your quest,” Leafstar began, “the camp was attacked by a group of animals.”
“Badgers?” Blossomheart asked.
Leafstar shook her head. “Not badgers. None of us had ever seen anything like these creatures.”
“What were they like?” Hawkwing asked.
“They were black, white, and gray, with black around their eyes and white around their muzzles,” Leafstar replied. “They walk on four legs like we do, but they can stand on their hind paws like a Twoleg. And they can grip things like a Twoleg, with their front and back paws. Their ears are like ours, but they have short, pointed muzzles like a fox.” She ended with a shudder. “They’re very vicious.”
“Is that how Echosong was hurt?” Waspwhisker asked.
“Yes. Harveymoon was injured as well.”
Hawkwing felt even worse. “This is awful,” he stammered. “It must have been their scent that Ebonyclaw and I smelled on the day of the fire. And I forgot to report it! I’m so sorry.”
Leafstar touched her tail to his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t dwell on it,” she murmured. “Every cat knows why you didn’t remember. Besides, Ebonyclaw did report it, and it didn’t make any difference. There was no way we could have prevented this attack.”
“So where’s Harveymoon?” Pebblepaw asked. “Why isn’t he in the medicine cat den? Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’ll be fine,” Leafstar replied. “But he’s with his Twolegs now, and we haven’t seen him since. In fact, most of our daylight warriors’ Twolegs have been keeping them inside their dens since the st
range animals moved into the territory.”
Just like Betsy said, with the badgers, Hawkwing thought. And that means we’ll have to do without our daylight warriors.
“And that’s not all,” Leafstar went on, her voice beginning to shake. “During the attack, Honeytail was killed.”
“No!” Blossomheart choked out.
Hawkwing felt a sudden chill, cold creeping over him right down to his pads. Honeytail, the gentle ginger she-cat who loved caring for kits, and lived in the nursery to help with them and the nursing queens. I can’t believe this! First Duskpaw, then Billystorm, and now Honeytail!
“We held a vigil for her while you were away on your quest,” Leafstar continued. “We’ll show you where she’s buried, so you can pay your last respects.” She paused, clearly giving them all a little time to process their grief for Honeytail. “I’ll ask you about your quest later,” she went on at last, “and then I’ll hear all the details. But for now, just tell me this: Did you find the cats you were looking for?”
Hawkwing expected Waspwhisker to speak, as the senior warrior, but the gray-and-white tom was silent, staring down at the ground. When the silence had dragged out for a few heartbeats, Hawkwing took a breath. “There’s something we need to tell you,” he began, each word forced slowly out of him as his heart began to break for his leader.
Leafstar gazed into his eyes. Then her expression suddenly took on a terrible alertness, as if she was really seeing them for the first time since they arrived. “Where is Billystorm?” she asked, her voice hollow.
The questing cats were all silent except for Pebblepaw, who let out a tiny strangled cry. And Hawkwing could see from Leafstar’s eyes, which suddenly became deep and dark with grief, that she already understood. “I’m so sorry, Leafstar,” he meowed. “Badgers killed him. He died the death of a brave warrior.”
For a moment Leafstar stood still, frozen with shock. Then she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and turned away. “No,” she whispered, her voice quiet, sounding almost like a kit. A shiver passed through her, and Hawkwing knew that her heart must be breaking. She loved Billystorm so much.
“Why are all these terrible things happening to us all at once?” she demanded. Her voice was raw, and she didn’t look at any of her Clanmates, as if she was challenging StarClan for answers. “The strange animals who attacked . . . the failed quest . . . the fire. Is it because we haven’t found ‘the spark that remains’?”
Leafstar fell silent, then after no more than a couple of heartbeats she turned back. Hawkwing could see that she was pushing everything down, and summoning every scrap of her self-control. He knew that what was most important to her was to be a strong leader for her Clan, in this dark time when death seemed to be all around them.
“We must call a Clan meeting,” she mewed, her voice level. “We must decide what to do now. We must work out how to ‘dispel the darkness.’ It’s our only hope.”
CHAPTER 9
Hawkwing padded over to the foot of the Rockpile to join the rest of his Clanmates. Leafstar’s voice as she called the meeting still rang in his ears, and he marveled at the strength and authority she was showing.
We’ve just told her that her mate is dead, and that he’s been buried far from camp, somewhere she might never find, yet here she is, gathering her warriors around her.
Hawkwing realized that Leafstar must be grieving for Billystorm every bit as much as he grieved for Duskpaw, but she was forcing herself to be strong for the rest of her Clan.
News of the failure of the quest and of Billystorm’s death must have traveled, for sadness filled the air like fog as the warriors gathered, and no cat could look up at the Rockpile to meet Leafstar’s gaze. Instead, they crouched at the foot of the boulders, their eyes fixed on their paws, or exchanged glances of bewilderment and fear. Firefern, Stormheart, and Harrybrook, the kits of Leafstar and Billystorm, huddled together as if they were trying to find comfort in each other.
“Disaster has fallen upon SkyClan,” the Clan leader began, “but we must not allow it to crush us. We must still find ‘the spark that remains.’ If we give up our quest now, we dishonor the memory of the cats who have died for that quest. There is still a prophecy that we must fulfill. And now we know only too well that there is still darkness to be dispelled.”
“But how are we going to do that?” Nettlesplash asked.
“Yes,” Mintfur, Nettlesplash’s mate, agreed, ruffling up her gray tabby fur. “The quest failed, so maybe that’s a sign that we mistook the meaning of the prophecy. Maybe we shouldn’t be looking for Firestar’s kin after all.”
“No!” Cherrytail sprang to her paws, glaring at Mintfur. “Echosong has never been that wrong before.”
So far Hawkwing had sat in silence, keeping his thoughts to himself, but now he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “Let’s not forget that we weren’t only following Echosong’s advice,” he meowed. “She may well have been right, but it was some other cat who told us where to go, to find Firestar’s kin.”
As he spoke, every cat turned to look in the same direction. Following their gaze, Hawkwing spotted Darktail settled comfortably in the shadow of a rock, his paws tucked under him.
So he is still living here! he thought, suppressing a gasp.
“Hawkwing!” Sharpclaw spoke commandingly from his place on the Rockpile at Leafstar’s side. “If you want to make an accusation, consider carefully before you speak. Darktail has been living among us since you left, and he was a huge help when the beasts attacked us. He fought valiantly.”
Hawkwing rose to his paws and faced his father. In spite of Sharpclaw’s words, something encouraging in his voice suggested that the Clan deputy might agree with him—or at least that he wanted Darktail’s involvement brought out into the open.
“I have considered carefully,” Hawkwing responded. “In fact, I’ve thought of very little else since Billystorm died. Darktail’s directions were all wrong, and they got Billystorm killed.”
Fury rising inside him, Hawkwing marched over to Darktail, other cats scrambling to get out of his way. He halted in front of the white tom, thrusting out his neck until they were nose to nose. “Did you know about the badgers?” he hissed. “I’d hate to think you led us deliberately into danger—but it sure looks like you did! Why would you do that, to cats you don’t even know?”
Behind him, Hawkwing could hear low murmuring from his Clanmates. One or two of them let out angry yowls, echoing his questions.
Darktail was not at all daunted by Hawkwing’s attack or the hostility of the other SkyClan cats. Rising to his paws, he dipped his head respectfully to Leafstar. There was an expression of deep sorrow on his face.
“Leafstar, you can’t imagine how bad I feel about this,” he meowed. “I really thought I had it right, and I can’t believe what happened.”
Sharpclaw let out a snort. “You really can’t tell fresh scent from stale?” he demanded, green eyes flashing with anger. “What were you thinking? You could have gotten all the patrol killed.”
“I know. It was all a mistake.” Darktail’s expression was deeply distressed. “It’s been a while since I passed through there, and I must have been confused. I was only trying to help.”
As he spoke, Hawkwing could sense that the hostility of some of his Clanmates was turning to sympathy in the face of Darktail’s obvious regret.
“Hawkwing, don’t be too hard on him,” Sandynose meowed. “If he made an honest mistake, then we have to put Billystorm’s death down to fate.”
“Sandynose is right,” Mistfeather agreed. “Darktail fought so bravely when the strange creatures attacked our camp. Why would he do that if he wanted to hurt us?”
Hawkwing couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Fate?” he sputtered, his shoulder fur bristling. “You think this is fate? How could it be fate for badgers to kill Billystorm? How could it be fate for Duskpaw to die in a fire?”
While he was speaking, Leafstar stepped forward and looked do
wn at him from the Rockpile. Her expression was stern, but not angry, as if she understood the feelings that were flooding through him.
“Hawkwing, I can tell that you’re still grieving for your brother. And it’s hard to think clearly through the fog of sorrow. I know that as well as any cat.”
His leader’s words did nothing to calm Hawkwing. Instead, even greater outrage flamed through him, fierce as the fire that had killed his brother. “That is not what this is about!” he snarled. “We shouldn’t just assume that it’s fate when something bad happens. This time, the bad thing happened when Darktail sent our patrol right into the path of a nest of badgers!”
Darktail pressed himself against Hawkwing’s flank. “I truly believed the badgers had moved on,” he mewed, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t know the beasts could be that sneaky.”
As more of his Clanmates murmured their sympathy and agreement, Hawkwing stepped away from Darktail with an angry glare. “We met a kittypet who told us that the badgers had lived there for seasons,” he challenged the white tom. “If a kittypet knows that, why didn’t you? And she told us that there were no Clan cats anywhere near there.”
Darktail’s eyes widened, his expression innocent and bewildered. “I only told you what I thought was true,” he responded. “I don’t know this kittypet, and I can’t explain her words.”
“You can’t trust a kittypet to know what she’s meowing about,” Bouncefire put in. “Why bother, when your food bowl will be filled anyway?”
Hawkwing glared at Bouncefire, his lips drawn back in the beginnings of a snarl. “Even if it was an accident, it was still your stupid fault,” he hissed at Darktail.
I wish I’d never brought Darktail to camp, he added silently to himself. If I’d left him where I found him, Billystorm would still be alive.
Darktail’s head drooped and he cringed as if Hawkwing’s words had hurt him. “I’m so sorry . . . ,” he whispered.