“I’m really grateful to you for letting me spend the night here,” she sighed when she had gulped down the last mouthful of prey. “But I have to go.”
“Maybe you should stay,” Bug suggested, concern in her green eyes. “You’re welcome for as long as you want. I can see you’re expecting kits, and it worries me to think of you traveling by yourself.”
Pebbleshine felt a jolt of surprise that another cat could tell she was carrying kits just by looking at her. When she had insisted on climbing onto the monster with the chickens, she had thought she wasn’t far enough along for it to be obvious. A pang of guilt shook her.
Maybe I did take a risk that I shouldn’t have.
For a heartbeat she was tempted to stay here, in shelter, with food and Bug’s friendship, a place where her kits could be born safely. But she knew how impossible that was. I can’t give birth to our kits without Hawkwing there. Not when I still have enoughtime and energy to find him, and my Clan! That was more important than anything.
“No, I have to go,” she repeated. “Thanks, Bug, but my kits are the reason I can’t delay any longer. I’m determined that my kits will be Clan cats, and come into the world surrounded by their kin. I have a plan,” she added. “I have to find my way back to my mate. I’m sure he’ll be looking for me.”
Bug padded alongside Pebbleshine as they headed back toward the Thunderpath, with Bunny trotting behind them at a distance.
“Good-bye, then,” Bug mewed when they stood close to the edge of the black, reeking surface. She touched her nose briefly to Pebbleshine’s shoulder. “I hope you find your Clan.”
“Good-bye,” Pebbleshine responded. “Thanks for everything, Bug. And may StarClan light your path.”
Bug looked confused by Pebbleshine’s last words, but Pebbleshine didn’t wait to explain. That would take far too long!
Checking the position of the sun to make sure she would be traveling in the right direction, Pebbleshine set out. She looked back once, waving her tail in farewell, to see Bug’s neat black shape sitting beside the Thunderpath, with Bunny’s huge figure looming beside her.
A monster zoomed by in the opposite direction, the wind of its passing buffeting Pebbleshine’s fur. Flattening her ears, Pebbleshine swallowed in apprehension.
They move so fast, she thought. And I was on that monster for so long—long enough to sleep and wake up. How far have I come?
Pebbleshine was beginning to realize what a huge task lay before her. It could take her moons to walk back to the place where she had left her Clan, even if she was moving in the right direction.
That meant there was only one way for her to get back to SkyClan in time for her kits to be born with them.
I’ll have to get onto another monster.
Chapter 3
Pebbleshine padded alongside the Thunderpath, her shoulders hunched and her fur fluffed up against a thin, drizzling rain. She was thankful for her SkyClan paws, toughened from leaping up and down the rocks of the gorge. Her muscles were stronger now, she thought happily; in fact, the whole of the Clan had grown stronger. They had lost so much when they were driven out of the gorge, but they had gained, too.
And I’ve gained more than strength, she told herself, thinking of the kits she carried. So has Plumwillow. She must be close to kitting by now. Pebbleshine was sure that their kits were StarClan’s promise that SkyClan would survive.
The realization made Pebbleshine more determined than ever to return to her Clan before her kits were born. I have to climb onto another monster. But how can I?
Monsters raced past her on the Thunderpath, some of them going in the right direction, but they were all moving too fast for her to jump onto. All around her was open territory, with no more monster camps or dens where they might go to sleep.
Pebbleshine was beginning to despair when she made out a cluster of Twoleg dens in the distance. New energy flowed into her paws, and she picked up her pace until she reached the outskirts of the Twolegplace.
Padding alongside the dens, Pebbleshine passed several monsters, but they were all asleep, some tucked away in little nests beside their Twolegs’ dens. Every one of them was closed up, with no way that she could see of climbing inside.
“Mouse dung,” she muttered. “These monsters are a lazy bunch. They do nothing but sleep!”
Finally, Pebbleshine spotted a monster sitting beside the Thunderpath, pointing in the direction she wanted to go. It looked nothing like the one she had traveled on, with the chickens, but its back was open to the air.
When Pebbleshine glanced around, she couldn’t see any Twolegs inside the monster or near the den. Warily, she stalked toward it. Hoping the monster was asleep, Pebbleshine sneaked closer and, with a last cautious glance around, leaped lightly into its belly.
Inside, the monster was full of weird shapes and scents: huge, odd-shaped rocks and brightly colored scraps of Twoleg debris. Pebbleshine squeezed into a space under one of the rocks and curled up, grooming her wet pelt with rapid strokes of her tongue. She hoped that when the monster’s Twolegs came, they wouldn’t notice her.
Her whole body tingled with apprehension, but at the same time she felt a trace of the same thrill she had felt when she’d leaped onto the other monster to hunt chickens.
We’re on our way, kits! she thought, then added, I really hope this works.
Pebbleshine’s muscles tensed as she heard the thump of Twoleg paw steps outside the monster. Suddenly a shadow loomed up at its back and the opening slammed shut. She almost gave herself away with a screech of alarm, but managed to choke down the sound.
I’m trapped inside a monster!
Her fear spiked into panic as two adult Twolegs and a Twoleg kit clambered into the monster, meowing to one another. The kit sat on top of the rock where Pebbleshine was hiding, so close that if Pebbleshine had stretched out a paw, she could have touched it.
The monster woke up with a cough and a rumble and began to move off. Pebbleshine pressed herself as low as she could and kept still, not even twitching a whisker. At least, as far as she could tell, they were moving in the right direction.
But after a few moments, the Twoleg kit let out a loud noise. Pebbleshine started, but forced herself to stay quiet. For a moment she couldn’t work out what the sound was, until the kit did it again, and she realized that it was sneezing. Poor thing, it must be sick, Pebbleshine thought. Maybe it needs to see a medicine Twoleg.
A heartbeat later she slid, her claws scrabbling at the hard floor as the monster suddenly swerved and began speeding off in a different direction. No! Let me out! Pebbleshine wanted to yowl the words aloud, but she knew the Twolegs wouldn’t understand her. I’ll only be in more trouble if they find me here. I just have to figure out a way of escaping.
But the monster sped on and on. There was no opening for Pebbleshine to squeeze through, and even if she had found one, it would have been too dangerous to leap out.
The kit kept sneezing, and the male Twoleg turned around to speak to it. Pebbleshine didn’t understand what he was saying, but he sounded puzzled. The kit’s only reply was another sneeze, and now it seemed as if it couldn’t stop.
The adult Twolegs began speaking to each other, their voices agitated. Then the monster shuddered and drew to a halt. The Twolegs pushed out openings on the monster’s flank and scrambled out. The female Twoleg peered under Pebbleshine’s rock; the Twoleg was blocking her escape path, so Pebbleshine tried to hunch herself up into an even smaller space, but it was no use. The female let out a squawk of surprise, pointing at her. Pebbleshine glanced toward the other opening the Twoleg kit had escaped from, but it was just swinging closed.