“Good,” Crowfeather meowed, stepping back with a purr of satisfaction. “We should get this job finished before nightfall.”
More than a half-moon had passed since the battle against the stoats, and so far none of the survivors had returned. Even their scent had well and truly faded. Onestar had ordered the tunnel entrances to be blocked more securely, all except for one, and had decided that WindClan needed to patrol the tunnels to discourage any other animals from settling there in future.
“Imagine if a family of badgers decided to live there!” he had meowed.
As Featherpaw went off to find more stones, Nightcloud and Hootpaw emerged from the entrance and stood beside Crowfeather, shaking dust from their pelts.
“That’s done!” Nightcloud exclaimed. “The whole place is clear of the last of the old prey.”
“It was disgusting!” Hootpaw added, passing his tongue over his jaws as if he could taste the crow-food. “I thought we’d never finish.”
“Well done,” Crowfeather mewed with an approving nod, surprised at how comfortable he felt around Nightcloud now.
“You’ve done enough!” Heathertail’s voice came from farther along the bank; Crowfeather turned to see her with Breezepelt. “Onestar has chosen you to go to the Gathering, so you should rest first.”
Breezepelt gave her a friendly shove. “I’m perfectly fine,” he mewed.
Crowfeather could hardly believe how carefree Breezepelt sounded, as if more had been healed within him than just the infection from the stoat bite. It’s good to hear him like that.
He exchanged an amused glance with Nightcloud as they listened to the two young cats’ amiable wrangling.
Nightcloud leaned closer to him and whispered into his ear, “I wouldn’t be surprised if there are new kits in the nursery soon.”
“Really?” Crowfeather asked. “I know you said that before, but—”
“Just look at them, mouse-brain!” Nightcloud’s words were harsh, but her eyes were sparkling and her tail curled up playfully.
“Kits…,” Crowfeather murmured. “Great StarClan, this soon…?” I’m just figuring out how to be a father…
Onestar’s voice, calling the Clan together, interrupted his musing. The sun was beginning to set, casting scarlet light across the moor. A chilly breeze had sprung up, but the sky was clear, a good omen for the night’s Gathering.
“Duties are over for the day,” the Clan leader announced as his cats padded up to him. “We’ll head back to the camp, and the cats I’ve chosen for the Gathering should go to their dens and rest.”
At least, Crowfeather thought as he began to climb the hill behind his Clan leader, this time we have good news to report.
Crowfeather slipped into the shifting mass of cats in the clearing beneath the branches of the Great Oak. Once again WindClan was the last to arrive, but the Clan leaders seemed to be in no hurry to start the meeting. The WindClan cats had time to mingle with the earlier arrivals, greeting their friends from other Clans.
Crowfeather found a space for himself not far from the roots of the Great Oak, where Harespring had taken his place with the other deputies. Not far away, he spotted Leafpool and Jayfeather with their fellow medicine cats.
For a long time before the battle against the Dark Forest, Crowfeather had been barely able to look at either of them, but now all he could feel toward them was gratitude.
Leafpool had helped him heal his heart after Feathertail died, even though in the end they couldn’t be together, and Jayfeather might still hate Breezepelt, but he’d done what was right to save his life.
Finally, Blackstar lifted his head to get every cat’s attention: “Before we begin, let us remember the fallen…”
This again, Crowfeather thought, although it did feel important to not forget the fallen warriors.
As soon as he’d finished, Blackstar then declared that prey was running well in ShadowClan territory. “My patrols picked up fox scent near the Twoleg greenleafplace,” he continued, “but it faded quickly and hasn’t returned. We think that the fox was only passing through.”
He stepped back, waving his tail for Mistystar to speak for RiverClan. The blue-gray she-cat dipped her head in acknowledgement before she began.
“All is well in RiverClan,” she announced. “This last moon we had several cases of whitecough, but Mothwing and Willowshine were able to treat it before it turned to greencough, and the sick cats are recovering well. Mothwing, Willowshine, your Clan thanks you.”
The RiverClan cats joined in chanting the names of their two medicine cats, as Bramblestar stepped forward to begin his report.
“Life is good in ThunderClan,” he meowed. “Two of our apprentices, Cherrypaw and Molepaw, have completed their training, after Whitewing took over and worked with Cherrypaw. We welcome them as warriors, Cherryfall and Molewhisker.”
“Cherryfall! Molewhisker!” Yowling erupted from the assembled cats, while the two new warriors ducked their heads, looking happily embarrassed.
Crowfeather half expected Bramblestar to mention the battle against the stoats, but the ThunderClan leader gave his place to Blackstar without saying any more.
He must be leaving that piece of news to Onestar, Crowfeather thought, as Bramblestar sat on his branch again with a nod to Onestar to give his report.
Crowfeather thought that his Clan leader looked proud as he rose to his paws and let his gaze travel over the assembled cats on the ground below him. And no wonder, after all the problems at the last Gathering. So much has changed since then.
“WindClan fought a battle with the stoats in the tunnels,” Onestar began. “Many of the stoats were killed, and the survivors fled. The tunnels are now clear again. But WindClan did not fight alone. ThunderClan came to our aid, and without their bravery and the generous help they gave us, we could never have won this victory. Bramblestar, WindClan thanks you and your Clan from the bottom of our hearts.”
Onestar paused, dipping his head deeply toward Bramblestar; Crowfeather could see how much he now respected the young ThunderClan leader. Bramblestar’s amber eyes glowed in response, as if praise from the older and more experienced leader meant a lot to him.
“I also want to mention another cat,” Onestar went on. “A warrior from my own Clan, with whom I’ve had my differences, but who never gave up on his determination that the stoats must be driven out. Crowfeather, while we’ve butted heads, I appreciate your devotion to WindClan.”
Crowfeather felt a warming beneath his pelt as Onestar nodded in his direction. Don’t go softhearted on me, he thought, but in his embarrassment he managed to nod his head to show his appreciation. Onestar nodded back, then went on.
“I must also mention the cats who fought with special bravery and deserve our collective thanks,” Onestar went on. “From ThunderClan, Mousewhisker, Birchfall, Thornclaw, and Blossomfall; from WindClan, Harespring, Larkwing, Whiskernose, and Breezepelt.”
As Onestar spoke the names, a murmur arose from the gathered cats, as they realized that these were the cats who had trained with the Dark Forest behind their Clanmates’ backs.
As soon as Onestar had finished speaking, Rowanclaw, the ShadowClan deputy, sprang to his paws from where he sat on the roots of the Great Oak. Crowfeather felt dread rise in his belly, knowing very well that Rowanclaw was about to disrupt the spirit of friendship that was growing among the Clans.
“So they should fight bravely!” he snapped. “They’ve got a lot to make up for before any cat trusts them again.”
Bramblestar rose, glaring down at Rowanclaw, but before he could speak, Lionblaze leaped up and faced the ShadowClan deputy.