The last time he had seen the beautiful RiverClan she-cat had been in the mountains, in the cave where the Tribe lived. There she had leaped to the cave roof and gripped a pointed stone until it had given way and plummeted downward to drive into the heart of Sharptooth, the ferocious lion-cat. But Feathertail had fallen with it; her courageous action had cost her her life.
She saved the Tribe, and she saved me. Oh, Feathertail… I loved you so much!
Crowfeather stood still, stunned by shock, while Feathertail padded forward, twined her tail with his, and nuzzled him affectionately. He could feel the warmth of her pelt and taste her sweet scent as it wreathed around him. He could hardly believe that this was only a dream.
“I’ve missed you,” he choked out.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Feathertail took a pace back and looked deeply into Crowfeather’s eyes. “But you’re not quite the same cat that I knew back then.”
“What do you mean?” Crowfeather asked.
“You remember that I’m in both StarClan and the Tribe of Endless Hunting,” Feathertail meowed. “The Tribe has given me permission to come and speak to you. I’ve been watching you, and I’m troubled by what I’ve seen.”
“What do you mean?” Crowfeather asked.
“I’ve seen how you are with Breezepelt,” Feathertail replied. “The Crowfeather I knew had so much love to give. Why have you been withholding love from your own son?”
Crowfeather turned his head sharply to gaze at Ashfoot. “Are you ganging up on me now?”
Ashfoot shrugged. “I had to make you see… and I knew she was the one cat you would always listen to.”
With a long sigh, Crowfeather turned back to Feathertail. “What you say is true,” he admitted. “I’ve tried to set things right with Breezepelt, but I’m worried that it’s too late. Everything went wrong between us because of what I did — or didn’t do — when Breezepelt was just an apprentice, and I can’t go back in time, however much I might want to. Now Breezepelt is still troubled. What more can I do?”
Feathertail blinked at him affectionately. “You can accept Breezepelt for who he is.”
“I’ll try,” Crowfeather promised. “But right now, keeping the Clan safe is the most important task for every cat. I know we need ThunderClan’s help to clear the stoats out of the tunnels, but Onestar just won’t see that.”
Feathertail’s blue eyes sparkled with sympathy. “Then there’s only one thing you can do,” she mewed. “Be true to yourself.”
Crowfeather’s whiskers twitched in surprise. “If I were being true to myself… I suppose I would go to Leafpool,” he murmured. But would Feathertail really suggest going to the only cat he had loved after her — and disobeying his Clan leader to do it? “Should I go behind Onestar’s back?” he asked.
Feathertail stared at him intensely. “Crowfeather…,” she began, but her voice trailed off.
“Leafpool would be able to persuade Bramblestar that it’s for the good of ThunderClan to help me,” Crowfeather went on as the pieces came together in his mind. “And once I get rid of the threat, Onestar won’t care how I did it.”
Ashfoot leaned forward. “Crowfeather… the Clan is what matters. You must put the good of the Clan above everything else.”
Her voice faded on the last few words, and the brilliant moonlight in the clearing began to fade too. Before darkness fell, the last things Crowfeather saw were Feathertail’s eyes, as warm and blue as the sky in greenleaf.
Crowfeather blinked awake in the dim light of the medicine-cat den. Featherpaw was still unconscious beside him, and Feathertail and Ashfoot were gone, but their words remained fresh in his thoughts. He rose to his paws and arched his back in a good long stretch.
Sedgewhisker was right, he thought. I haven’t really been present since the Great Battle, not for my Clan. Even though I’m not deputy, I seem to be the only cat who can see reason. It’s time for me to put my Clan first.
Now Crowfeather knew what he had to do.
Chapter 16
Crowfeather slipped through the undergrowth in the wooded area at the edge of WindClan territory. He didn’t like the damp sensation of moist earth under his pads, or the feeling of being closed in by branches above his head. He longed for the springy sensation of moorland grass, and the feeling of cold wind in his whiskers as he raced across the hillside.
No wonder ThunderClan cats are so weird, when they live in the forest all the time!
On leaving camp, Crowfeather had considered cutting through the tunnels to reach ThunderClan territory, his paws and fur itching with the urge to kill a few stoats on the way. But if I tried that, I might never come out on the other side, he realized.
As he headed for the border stream, Crowfeather seemed to hear Kestrelflight’s voice. A wild wind kicked up and drove the water back. But eventually the wind dropped, and the water kept on rushing and gushing… until it swallowed up everything. The image the medicine cat had spoken of was so vivid that Crowfeather felt that he could see the restless waves for himself, almost as if the vision had been his, a special message sent to him from StarClan.
After everything that had happened since, particularly how Nightcloud and Breezepelt had suffered so much from the stoats in the tunnels where the floodwater came from, Crowfeather couldn’t shake off the feeling that somehow the responsibility for fixing this problem rested on his shoulders.
Or, if I fail, maybe my kin will feel they have to do it. I can’t put that burden on them.
It felt strange for Crowfeather to muse that maybe not being deputy was a good thing. If he had been, he would never have dared to go behind Onestar’s back like this; as a warrior, he had less to lose. That conviction was all that kept him going, once he could hear the gurgling of the stream that formed WindClan’s border with ThunderClan. He couldn’t help remembering how forcefully Onestar had refused to ask for help from the rival Clan.
And now here I am, going to do just that. Cats have been banished from their Clans for less.
Approaching the stream, Crowfeather tasted the air, picking up the stench of the ThunderClan scent markers and, beyond that, the fresh scent of ThunderClan cats. A few heartbeats later, Berrynose and Thornclaw emerged from behind a clump of elder bushes that grew on the bank of the stream.
Oh, StarClan! Not Berrynose again!
Crowfeather signaled to them with his tail. The two warriors stiffened at the sight of him, and Crowfeather saw them slide out their claws. He didn’t move any closer to the border, waiting while the ThunderClan cats sniffed warily and let their gazes flicker along the bank to either side of him.
After a moment the two cats relaxed, retracting their claws; clearly, they hadn’t picked up any other WindClan scent. Even so, Crowfeather stayed where he was, not moving forward to the edge of the stream.
“What do you want?” Berrynose asked.
“I need to speak with Leafpool,” Crowfeather replied with a respectful dip of his head. Like I’ll ever respect Berrynose! But for now, I need him to cooperate. “I have something very important to discuss with her, and it can’t wait.”
Berrynose and Thornclaw exchanged a dubious glance with a hint of hostility. “What’s this all about?” Thornclaw asked. “Clan business? Medicine-cat business?”