Brook brushed her tail against Stormfur’s flank as the Clans filed slowly out of the cave. Squirrelpaw looked sadly back at her friend, wishing he could at least be part of the patrol that would accompany them to the edge of the Tribe’s territory. But Stormfur stayed where he was, his gray pelt glowing in the shimmering light of the waterfall, his eyes betraying the depths of his grief. However much he wanted to live with the Tribe, Squirrelpaw knew that watching the Clans leave without him must be like losing Silverstream, Feathertail, and Graystripe all over again.
“Do you think he’ll be all right?” she asked Brambleclaw.
He gave her ear a swift lick. “I do.”
They followed the other cats out of the gorge and up into the peaks, the sun to one side of them as they headed along the mountain range.
“Do you think they’re taking us the right way?” she whispered to Brambleclaw.
Brambleclaw blinked. “I hope so.” He craned his neck. “It does seem to be the same direction we saw the star fall. I just hope they don’t lead us too far and we miss it.”
As he spoke, the Tribe cats veered their path and headed down through a winding pass. The ground suddenly fell away and the land rolled ahead of them, hill after hill, grassy here, shadowed with woodland there. From where the Clans stood, on the edge of the mountains, the greenness seemed strange after the endless gray and white of the crags. In the sunshine Squirrelpaw could see streams glimmering among the bare trees like silver birch bark in an oak forest.
“Is that it?” Brambleclaw breathed.
“‘Hills, oak woods for shelter, running streams.’” Squirrelpaw found herself quoting Midnight’s prophecy.
“But there’s so much of it!” Tawnypelt had slipped beside them. “How will we know where to stop?”
Brambleclaw shook his head, and they stared in silence until a flicker above their heads caught Squirrelpaw’s eye.
Something was moving on the crest of the rocks that lined the mountain pass. Her pelt prickled with fear. Was it an eagle? She forced herself to look up and saw that it was not a bird. It was Stormfur and Brook, racing along the ridge, calling their good-byes to the departing Clans.
As Stormfur bounded nimbly from rock to rock, Brook matched him step for step, so that their pelts brushed each other’s with every leap. Stormfur’s mud-slicked fur was visible only when he crossed a patch of snow, and Squirrelpaw could not help thinking that the RiverClan cat looked almost Tribe-born.
Chapter 25
Leafpaw shook the drizzle from her whiskers and padded after the others up the heather-covered slope. They had trekked all morning, leaving the snow and mountains behind, chased by the rain that rolled down from the mountains after them.
“Have you noticed Tallstar?” Sorreltail whispered, padding beside her.
The WindClan leader was walking beside Onewhisker through the banks of heather. Despite the rain, he no longer leaned against Onewhisker’s flank, but padded confidently, as if he finally believed he was within reach of his Clan’s new home. He pricked his ears as a rabbit darted from a boulder farther ahead. Onewhisker glanced at his leader, and, when Tallstar nodded, he darted after the rabbit. Tornear and Webfoot raced up the slope after him.
“I think the smell of the heather has given WindClan some of their old spirit back,” Leafpaw purred.
All the cats seemed more relaxed than they had been in the mountains, not just WindClan. Blackstar padded next to Firestar. Dustpelt walked alongside Russetfur, the heather brushing his striped flank as he talked comfortably to the ShadowClan deputy.
“I never thought I’d see Dustpelt so comfortable around the other Clans,” Leafpaw commented.
“He’ll soon be back to his old self,” Sorreltail replied matter-of-factly, “once we’re settled in our new home and things are back to normal.”
“There will always be four Clans,” Leafpaw murmured, half to herself. But would there really? Looking around, she realized with a shock that it was impossible to tell from the throng of cats where one Clan ended and another began.
“I’m just glad to be out of the mountains,” Sorreltail mewed.
“Stormfur was brave to stay.”
“He had so little left in the Clans,” Leafpaw murmured.
“Well, I’d rather be here,” Sorreltail decided.
“Even though we don’t know where we’re heading?” Leafpaw asked her, surprised.
“Look at this place!” Sorreltail flicked her tail at the land around them. “No sign of monsters or churned earth. And it’s good to smell prey again.” She swiped her tongue around her lips.
As she spoke Onewhisker came trotting back toward the Clans, a rabbit dangling from his jaws. Leafpaw knew she was right—this place felt safer than anywhere they had been for many days and nights—but with no sign from StarClan, was it really their new home?
“Leafpaw!”
Cinderpelt’s voice shocked her into wakefulness. She blinked open her eyes. It was still dark.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, struggling to her paws and staring around the shadowy copse where the Clans had sheltered for the night. A chilly wind whipped between the trees.
“Firestar wants to set off as early as possible,” Cinderpelt told her.
“Why can’t we stay here?” Leafpaw heard Birchkit’s fretful mew and, as her eyes became accustomed to the predawn light, she saw him staring up at his mother, crouched between the roots of a tree.
“We can’t stop yet.” Brambleclaw’s deep mew rang out before Ferncloud could reply. “StarClan will tell us when we have found our new home.”
“But the sign might come if we wait here,” Dustpelt meowed.
“Wait here?” Mudclaw glared at the ThunderClan cats.
“These trees may feel like home to you, but not to us.”
“The streams here aren’t wide enough for fish,” Leopardstar pointed out.
Squirrelpaw nodded. “We must keep going.”
“Going where, exactly?” Hawkfrost growled.
Squirrelpaw narrowed her eyes. “Do we have to know everything?”
Brambleclaw flicked his tail to silence her, then glanced at Cinderpelt. “Have you had any sign from StarClan?”
Cinderpelt shook her head. “Not me. But Leafpaw had a dream,” she meowed.
Leafpaw’s heart lurched as the eyes of all the Clans turned to her, gleaming in the half-light. “I-I don’t know if it was a sign,” she mewed quickly. “I dreamed I sat before a great stretch of shining water…”
“Shining water?” Leopardstar interrupted. “You mean a river?”
Leafpaw shook her head. “No, not a river. These waters were smooth, not churning. I could see Silverpelt reflected, all the stars shining as clearly as if they were swimming in the sky.”
“Is that all?” Blackstar demanded.
“Spottedleaf was there too, and she told me StarClan would find us,” Leafpaw forced herself to meet the ShadowClan leader’s gaze even though her legs were shaking.
“So we should head for water?” Tallstar mewed hopefully.
Leafpaw’s ears twitched. “I think it was just a dream,” she whispered. “I’ve had no sign from StarClan since.” She looked unhappily at her paws. “I’m beginning to think I just dreamed what I wanted to.”
“Then we have nothing,” Blackstar muttered, turning away.
“Are you sure it was just a dream?” Brambleclaw asked Leafpaw.
She searched her heart for the truth. “I don’t know.”
She had never been wrong about her dreams before, but if the dream had really carried a message from their warrior ancestors, wouldn’t some sign—a falling star, another dream—have told them by now that StarClan was with them in this strange place?