A ridge of broken rock blocked the entrance to the valley. Hollypaw reached the top after a hard scramble and stood looking out across a range of bare rock and plunging precipices, as far as she could see in all directions. A stiff breeze ruffled her fur, and she tried to dig her claws into the rock to keep her balance. She couldn’t imagine where cats might live in this stony wilderness.
Talon padded toward one end of the ridge, overlooking a shelf of flat rock. “This way,” he called.
The other cats began to follow him, except for Breezepaw, who bounded off to one side. “This way looks quicker!”
Hollypaw rolled her eyes. You don’t know where you’re going, mouse-brain!
Almost at once a terrified yowl burst from the WindClan apprentice. He was sliding forward, scrabbling frantically to stop himself. Hollypaw saw that a chasm split the top of the ridge, hidden from sight in the shadows.
She darted across to help Breezepaw, but Crowfeather raced past her. He fastened his teeth in Breezepaw’s tail and dragged him backward until he could stand safely on the flat top of the ridge.
Breezepaw let out a screech of pain. “My sore tail!”
“Tough,” Crowfeather snarled. “Next time, think before you start showing off, and do what the Tribe cats tell you.”
Breezepaw glared at his father, then padded after the others with his head and tail drooping.
“Pity,” Lionpaw commented as the WindClan apprentice caught up to him. “I was looking forward to seeing you bounce all the way to the bottom of the mountain.”
“Shut up, stupid furball!”
“That’s enough.” Tawnypelt thrust her way between the two apprentices. “For StarClan’s sake, stop bickering.”
Lionpaw muttered, “Sorry,” and gave his chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks, while Breezepaw just ignored her. They were all tired and hungry, Hollypaw thought, and more tempers were likely to snap if they didn’t reach the Tribe’s home soon.
Talon led the cats to the far end of the ridge where a narrow trail led downward, only wide enough for one cat to follow at a time. As Hollypaw waited for her turn she heard the beating of wings overhead. A black shadow passed over her. With a startled yowl she flattened herself against the rock. She saw her mother throw herself on top of Jaypaw.
Daring to lift her head, Hollypaw saw an enormous brown bird with its wings spread wide as it skimmed the ridge and headed for the rocks below. Cruel, hooked talons stretched to seize the body of a mouse that lay a few tail-lengths farther down. Hollypaw’s belly rumbled. Though Clan cats didn’t eat crow-food, she was so hungry that she wouldn’t have said no to that mouse.
As the eagle’s talons closed around the limp body, four cats erupted from the shadows among the rocks. Hollypaw’s jaws gaped and her eyes stretched wide with amazement as they seized the huge bird. It let out a harsh screech and its wings beat frantically as it tried to take off. It managed to rise a tail-length above the ground, but the weight of cats dragging it down was too much. It flopped back onto the rock in a flurry of wings. The thin, gray-brown cats swarmed all over it. One of them pounced on its neck and bit down. There was a last spasm of struggling and then the eagle went limp.
“Great catch!” Talon yowled.
All four cats froze, looking upward. One of them called out, “Talon!” They sounded astonished, staring at one another and the group of cats on the ridge.
Stormfur came to stand beside Hollypaw. “Welcome to the Tribe of Rushing Water,” he meowed.
CHAPTER 20
Lionpaw followed Talon as he picked his way down the trail to the rocks below. The cats who had killed the eagle were waiting for them, their eyes guarded and their tails twitching.
A pale gray tom stepped forward to touch noses with Talon. “It’s good to see you again,” he mewed. There was warmth in his voice. “And you, Night,” he added, as the black she-cat padded up to join them.
“Thank you, Gray,” Talon replied.
Lionpaw eyed the Tribe cats doubtfully. They were smaller and skinnier than most Clan cats, and their gray-brown pelts were smeared with mud so that they almost faded into the rocky background. Their eyes glowed strangely, reflecting the red light of the setting sun. As one of them turned to look at him, he took a step toward Squirrelflight. She bent her head and licked his ear, and for a heartbeat he felt ashamed.
I’m not a kit anymore.
Besides, he told himself, they were there to help these cats.
The cat Talon had called Gray was staring at the other cats who had descended the trail behind Night. “Stormfur!” he exclaimed, his eyes stretched wide. “Brook! What are you doing here? You’re…you’re supposed to be dead.”
The Tribe cats edged closer together, their fur bristling. Lionpaw felt a flash of irritation. Just because Stoneteller had said Stormfur and Brook were dead to the Tribe didn’t mean they were actually dead. Did these cats believe everything their leader told them?
Stormfur looked at Brook, and there was weariness in his expression. “No, we’re not dead,” he meowed, turning back to the Tribe cats. “We were outcasts for a while, that’s all.”
The cats stepped forward, stretching their necks to sniff at Stormfur’s pelt. Their questions came slowly at first, then faster, like rain in greenleaf.
“Are you okay?”
“Where did you go?”
“Why have you come back?”
“Talon and Night came to fetch us.” Brook spoke for the first time. “They said you needed us.”
The Tribe cats exchanged uncertain glances. Lionpaw waited for them to say, Yes, thank you, we hoped you’d come back to help. But they didn’t. Instead, they turned their attention to the Clan cats.
Gray stepped forward to give Brambleclaw a cautious sniff. “Hey, I’ve met you before. You’re one of those cats who traveled through here a few seasons ago.”
“That’s right.” Brambleclaw dipped his head. “And I remember you…you’re Gray Sky Before Dawn, right?”
“Right!” Gray looked surprised that Brambleclaw had remembered his name. “Did…did you find the home you were looking for?”
“We did, thanks,” Brambleclaw replied. “A good place, by a lake.”
Gray put his head on one side. “Then why are you here now? And what have you done with all the others?”
“We came because—” Tawnypelt began to speak, then fell silent as Brook shot her a warning glance. Her tail tip twitched irritably.
“They’re just passing through,” Brook explained.
Lionpaw bristled; Hollypaw leaned closer to him and murmured in his ear, “She doesn’t want to offend the Tribe cats by telling them they need help from outsiders. It’s enough of a shock that she and Stormfur have come back from the dead, by the look of it.”
But they obviously need our help! These cats were so skinny he could count their ribs. They were no match for the trespassers. Lionpaw’s fur felt hot with anger as he remembered the mocking looks of Stripes and Flick and the insolent way they’d spoken.
They think they can do what they want, and no cat will stop them!
By now the red sunset light was beginning to fade, leaving the mountains wrapped in twilight. Talon waved his tail as a signal for the journeying cats to move off again.
“See you later in the cave, Gray,” he meowed. His tone was decisive, making it clear that he wasn’t going to answer any more questions now.
The Tribe cats went back to their prey and began dragging it across the rocks. The eagle’s feathers made a soft rustling sound on the stone. Lionpaw skirted the bird at a safe distance as he passed. Even though it was dead, he didn’t like the look of the sharp, crooked talons or the bright beady eye that seemed to stare at him.
As he padded across the rocky plateau beside his littermates, Lionpaw heard a noise like thunder. He looked up, but the sky was clear, with stars beginning to shine above the peaks. The roaring noise grew louder and the air grew damp until beads of moisture hung on Lionpaw’s fur.
They were close to the edge of the plateau. Hollypaw ran forward to peer over the edge. “Come and look at this!” she called.
Lionpaw bounded over to join her. He stopped with a jerk and looked back to check that Jaypaw wasn’t too close to the edge. Just in front of his paws, the rocks fell away into a narrow, winding valley, leading steeply downward. A stream foamed along the bottom, throwing up spray where it dashed against rocks and swirling around the roots of straggling bushes that clung to the banks. The thundering noise came from farther down the valley, where the stream vanished over a lip of rock.
“That’s the waterfall.” Squirrelflight raised her voice and pointed with her tail. “We’re almost there.”
Still in the lead, Talon picked his way down the rocks to the stream. There was a tiny path, narrow as a bramble, clinging to the edge of the water. “Watch where you’re putting your paws,” he called.
“Do you remember when we first came here?” Squirrelflight asked Brambleclaw.
The tabby tom’s whiskers twitched. “Will I ever forget it?”
“It was on the way back from the sun-drown-place,” Squirrelflight explained to the apprentices. “It had been raining hard and a surge of floodwater swept us into the stream. We went right over the waterfall and ended up in the pool below.”
“I thought I’d joined StarClan for sure,” Stormfur added, pausing to gaze down at the stream before setting his paws cautiously on the rocky slope.
Squirrelflight began to follow Stormfur, then glanced back to add, “Let’s see if we can all do it dry-pawed this time. Come, Jaypaw, hold my tail and follow exactly where I walk.”
In single file and silence, the cats crept along the edge of the stream as far as the top of the waterfall. Even Breezepaw paid attention to the directions from the experienced Tribe cats at the front of the line.
When he reached the end of the valley, Lionpaw paused, looking down to where the pounding water hurtled into the pool. The air was misty with spray; the rocks were slick with it.
“How’s Jaypaw going to get down?” he murmured to Hollypaw.
His sister shook her head worriedly. “He’ll never make it.”
Then Lionpaw heard a yowl of protest. Brambleclaw had picked up Jaypaw by the scruff and was edging downward with the young cat dangling from his jaws like a kit.
“I can do it by myself!” Jaypaw hissed, furious.
Squirrelflight, already safely down, watched with her tail tip twitching. “Keep still, or I’ll throw you in the pool,” she warned him.
Lionpaw leaned close to whisper into Hollypaw’s ear. “Don’t say a word about this to Jaypaw. He’d turn us into crow-food.”
His sister gave him a quick nod before beginning to pick her own way down. Lionpaw followed her, last of all the cats except for Tawnypelt. His heart beat uncomfortably fast as he tried to find a firm paw hold on the wet stones. Once he slipped, his hind paws dangling helplessly over the thundering water, while he struggled to pull himself up. Tawnypelt fastened her teeth in his shoulder and dragged him back to safety.
“Thanks,” he gasped.
Tawnypelt flicked her ears but said nothing.
Lionpaw had never been so thankful as when he leaped down the last tail-length and stood on level ground beside the pool. His legs were trembling and his pelt was sodden with spray, but inside he felt proud and strong. Nothing could stop the Clan cats, not even having to climb down a waterfall. They would soon sort out those wretched, crow-food-eating trespassers and show them who deserved to hunt in the mountains. No wonder the Tribe cats hadn’t been able to cope; from what he’d seen they were too small and skinny to have real fighting strength. Talon and Night had done the right thing by asking the Clans for help. They were the Tribe of Rushing Water’s only chance.
Several Tribe cats were lurking behind the rocks around the pool and peeping out nervously to watch the newcomers. Lionpaw tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed them. He didn’t like being studied as if he were an unusual bug, with suspicion as well as curiosity. These cats should be acting a lot more grateful that the Clan cats had come all this way to help!
Crowfeather had wandered away from the rest of the group and was sitting with his head bowed beside a heap of stones on the other side of the pool, underneath a twisted tree.
“What’s Crowfeather doing?” Lionpaw asked.
“That’s where Feathertail is buried,” Tawnypelt explained.
Lionpaw stared at the small gray-black cat crouched beside the pile of stones. “Why is Crowfeather so upset? They weren’t even in the same Clan…”
“Crowfeather loved her.” Tawnypelt’s tone was gentle. “She died saving him from Sharptooth, and she saved the Tribe as well.”
Understanding stirred in Lionpaw’s mind like a mouse in a drift of leaves. Maybe losing Feathertail was what had made the WindClan cat so bad-tempered all the time. He noticed Breezepaw watching his father with a jealous glint in his narrowed eyes. For once Lionpaw felt a pang of sympathy for him. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel if Brambleclaw got so upset over a cat that died ages ago, not when he had Squirrelflight now.
“Come on.” Talon’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “It’s time to walk the Path of Rushing Water.” He padded around the edge of the pool and leaped up the first few rocks.
Lionpaw’s eyes stretched wide with astonishment when Talon vanished behind the sheet of tumbling water. “Where did he go?”
Tawnypelt touched her tail to his shoulder. “You’ll see.”
Lionpaw scrambled up the slippery rocks to join Hollypaw, Jaypaw, and Squirrelflight at the point where Talon had disappeared. They were standing on a narrow ledge of rock that led behind the waterfall. A dark hole gaped menacingly at the far end. Lionpaw’s fur prickled.
“Follow me,” Squirrelflight mewed to Jaypaw. “And keep your pelt pressed up against the rock.”
Jaypaw, still sulking about being carried down the waterfall, muttered something Lionpaw couldn’t catch.
Squirrelflight went first, placing her paws precisely in a straight line, her fur brushing the rock wall. Jaypaw followed, and Lionpaw fell in behind him, ready to grab his brother if he slipped.
The water pounded past, filling his ears with thunder and loading his pelt with icy drops. Lionpaw was sure that it would snatch him up and toss him into the pool below. In the faint light of evening he could scarcely make out Jaypaw’s black fur against the wet rock. The moist air damped down the scents of his companions; he could have been alone, pacing into the darkness beneath the earth, never to return.
“This is it,” he heard Jaypaw murmur. “This is where we’re supposed to be.”
Lionpaw wasn’t sure what he meant—he’d never been more convinced that he belonged under trees with grass beneath his paws. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the gaping hole and found himself at the entrance to a cave. Faint watery light filtered through the waterfall behind him, revealing steep rock walls that soared up on either side, vanishing into shadows.
Blinking, Lionpaw padded forward. As he left the narrow entrance behind, the thunder of the waterfall faded. Hollypaw and Jaypaw paced beside him, Hollypaw gazing around in astonishment, while Jaypaw quivered with tension.
Brambleclaw, Talon, and Squirrelflight were already standing farther into the cave. Around them were groups of the Tribe cats, wiry gray-brown shapes that crouched, staring, as if they hardly dared come forward to greet the newcomers. All of them looked thin and anxious.
Don’t worry, Lionpaw thought. Everything will be okay, now that we’re here.
Then a brown tabby tom appeared from the shadows at the back of the cave. He was stick-thin, as if his pelt were stretched over his bare bones, and his muzzle was grizzled with age. His amber eyes glowed in the faint light.
Brambleclaw dipped his head respectfully. “Greetings, Stoneteller.”
Lionpaw’s paws worked impatiently against the hard floor of the cave as he waited for the old cat to welcome them. They needed to sta
rt planning right away to get rid of the intruders.
Stoneteller halted, his amber gaze raking across the newcomers. The thin fur on his neck and shoulders began to bristle.
“How dare you come here?” he snarled.
CHAPTER 21
Lionpaw stared in disbelief. Stoneteller didn’t want them here? Was he completely mouse-brained?
The Tribe’s leader whipped around to face Talon and Night. “What have you done?” he spat.
Lionpaw saw Talon swallow. “We…we went to find the Clans,” he stammered, one paw raking nervously at the cave floor. “We’ve brought help….”
“We thought it was best,” Night added.
“You thought wrong!” Stoneteller’s voice was soft, vibrating with fury. “You abandoned your Tribemates when we needed you to hunt for food. You told the Clans of our weakness. And you have brought all these extra mouths to feed. How dare you set paw in our cave? None of you is welcome here.”
Stormfur and Brook, who had followed Lionpaw and the other apprentices into the cave, padded forward until they stood in front of Stoneteller. The old cat’s eyes narrowed. “You are dead!”
Stormfur didn’t flinch. “No, we are not. And we are still loyal to the Tribe of Rushing Water, whatever you might think.”
“We have to help you,” Brook pleaded.
But Stoneteller’s eyes were cold as the stone around him. “I banished you from the mountains with good reason. Do you think I did it lightly? No. But our ancestors willed it so.”
“Then our ancestors were wrong.” Brook’s amber eyes glowed. “The Tribe is suffering even more than when we left. The trespassers are even more arrogant. We met a group of them on our way here. They behaved as if the mountains were their territory and they could drive us off if they wanted.”
“We have come to help,” Stormfur insisted. “You need us.”