“What, that he had bees in his brain?”
Cloudstar shook his head and tried to imagine himself in Duskstar’s place, worn down by constant battles over a line of trees with old, fragile branches, while the sheer volume of leaves made it too easy for squirrels and birds to hide. “This part of the forest offered better hunting for ThunderClan warriors than for us. And he knew that ThunderClan queens had recently had several litters of kits, and their need for food was greater than their territory could provide. We may be rivals, but there have always been five Clans in the forest. If one is in danger of starving to death, it is our duty to help them survive.”
“That’s not part of the warrior code,” growled Buzzardtail.
“No, but obeying your leader is,” Cloudstar pointed out, keeping his tone light. “Thanks to Duskstar, in fact. You remember he was responsible for this part of the warrior code? And right now, your leader is ordering you to return to the camp to see what the hunting patrols have caught for us!”
“He’s back!”
As soon as Cloudstar and Buzzardtail wriggled under the brambles that surrounded the SkyClan camp, four tiny shapes hurtled across the hard-packed earth. “Cloudstar! Hazelwing said you’d teach us a battle move! Please?”
Cloudstar gently disentangled himself from the flurry of gray and orange pelts. “You seem to be quite good at pouncing already,” he mewed.
An orange tabby she-cat hurried over. “Kits! Kits! Leave poor Cloudstar alone!” She turned to Cloudstar, her green eyes apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where they get their energy from. The only way I could get them to give Birdflight any peace in the nursery was by promising you’d show them a battle move.”
Cloudstar looked down at the four eager faces by his front paws. “It’s no problem, Hazelwing. I’m sure I can keep them amused for a while.”
The biggest kit, a pale gray tom, bounced on his toes. “Does this mean we’re going to start our warrior training?” he squeaked.
“Not quite, Webkit,” Cloudstar meowed. “You’ll have to wait another five moons for that. Now, wait for me by the hazel bush and do some stretches to warm up.” The kits scrambled away, Webkit racing ahead with his brother Hatchkit, while their sisters, Emberkit and Mistlekit, followed a few paces behind.
“Do you think our kits will be so lively?” murmured a soft voice beside Cloudstar.
He turned to look into Birdflight’s amber eyes. She looked tired, her belly swollen under her long brown fur. “You should be resting,” he reminded her. “Come on, let me take you back to the nursery.”
Birdflight flicked her tail at him. “I’ve had enough of being stuck inside. Let me get some fresh air!”
Cloudstar pressed his face to her belly. Something rippled against his cheek. “I think that one’s going to match Webkit for liveliness,” he predicted.
Birdflight purred. “I can’t wait to meet him,” she purred.
“Or her,” Cloudstar put in. “Two of each would be nice, like Hazelwing’s litter. Or maybe three toms to look after their sisters.”
“My daughters will be able to take care of themselves!” Birdflight retorted, her eyes warm. “Perhaps they’ll look after their brothers?”
Cloudstar rested his muzzle on top of Birdflight’s head. He felt the tips of her ears brush against his chin like the wings of a moth. “I’ll teach them everything I know so that no harm comes to them,” he promised. “Even when they are warriors, I’ll still watch over them. They will be the most precious parts of my life—alongside you, of course.” He closed his eyes and breathed in Birdflight’s sweet scent. Thank you, StarClan, for giving me everything I could have dreamed of. My Clan is strong and happy, our borders are safe, and soon Birdflight and I will have kits of our own. You have been kind to me.
“Cloudstar! Cloudstar!” Mistlekit was calling to him from beside the hazel bush. With a sigh, Cloudstar stepped away from Birdflight and started toward the far side of the clearing. But a frantic crackle of twigs stopped him in his tracks, and he spun around to see Fernpelt leading her hunting patrol back into the camp. Her eyes were wide and worried, and she headed straight for Cloudstar once she was clear of the brambles.
He looked past her to see what the patrol was carrying. To his shock, only Snailpaw held any prey: a rather damp-looking squirrel, its gray tail dragging along the ground. “Is that all?” Cloudstar exclaimed.
Fernpelt stood in front of him, her pelt bristling. “There was nothing to find!” she told him. “We went to the border beside the pine trees, but the woods were empty. Snailpaw did well to catch that squirrel.”
“And that was only because it was half-drowned in a puddle,” muttered Acornpaw. Like the other cats on the patrol, his fur was ruffled and smeared with mud.
“But it’s almost greenleaf,” Cloudstar meowed. “The prey should be jumping into our claws!”
Fernpelt shook her head. “Not in that part of the forest. The Twolegs are making so much noise just beyond the border that they’ve scared everything away. If there is any prey left, we can’t smell it over the stench from the monsters.”
Cloudstar narrowed his eyes. Gigantic yellow monsters had been shifting huge piles of earth just beyond their boundary for a while now. They hadn’t crossed into SkyClan territory, so Cloudstar had paid little attention. Twolegs were always doing strange things, but they rarely strayed over the borders.
Stoatfur stepped quietly up to Cloudstar. He had been part of Fernpelt’s patrol. “I don’t think we should hunt along that border from now on,” he meowed. “The yellow monsters seemed much closer today, and it could be dangerous.”
Cloudstar shook his head. “I don’t agree. We know that Twolegs take trees from treecutplace, but they’ve never troubled us anywhere else. They don’t even bring their dogs into that part of the territory. Once the prey gets used to the noise from the yellow monsters, it will come back. You had bad luck hunting today, that’s all.”
Chapter 2
Cloudstar lay in his nest beneath a densely leaved elderberry bush and dreamed. He was in a forest of wide-spaced trees—oak, birch, beech, and ash—all growing so tall that their tops were lost in the wispy clouds. Their branches were perfectly placed for swift, unhindered climbing, and the ground was clear of brambles or tangled ferns so a cat could leap safely down in pursuit of prey or enemies. But Cloudstar knew there would be no enemies here, not even from rival Clans, because this was StarClan, where his ancestors lived peacefully alongside one another as they watched over the cats below.
A few blades of sunlight sliced through the trees, sending flashes of warmth across Cloudstar’s gray-and-white pelt as he padded between the trunks. The air rippled with the scent of prey and new growth, and his claws tingled with the urge to spring up the nearest tree and soar skyward, seeing the forest from a completely different view as it unfurled beneath him. Soft paw steps behind him made him turn.
A dark ginger she-cat who Cloudstar recognized from his nine-lives ceremony was padding toward him. “Maplestar!” He bowed his head.
“Greetings, Cloudstar,” Maplestar purred. “Welcome to StarClan.”
Cloudstar looked up. “Is everything okay?” he asked, suddenly feeling a chill beneath his pelt. “Did you bring me here for a reason?”
The orange cat twitched her ears. “Everything’s fine. We just wanted to see you, to tell you how proud we are of you.”
Cloudstar arched his back and purred. “Thank you. It is an honor to lead my Clan.”