Firestar stared in amazement. What a catch! He had never seen a cat jump so high. At first he was surprised that the ginger tom didn’t congratulate her. Then he noticed that both cats had strong, muscular back legs; jumping must have been SkyClan’s special skill, just as RiverClan cats could swim well and WindClan cats could run fast after rabbits.
The hunters took their fresh-kill back to the rest of their Clan. A couple of other warriors had killed voles, but it still wasn’t enough. He saw the fresh-kill being shared among the elders and mothers with kits first, just as he would expect from cats who followed the warrior code.
When the Clan had devoured the prey in a few ravenous bites, the gray-and-white leader padded into their midst. “It’s time to go on,” he meowed.
The whole Clan rose to their paws. The gray-and-white cat took the lead, heading upriver. The ginger tom and the tabby supported the black-and-white elder. As they limped past Firestar, he realized he could see river and grass through each pelt. The SkyClan cats seemed to walk one by one into a bank of pale mist, and Firestar found himself blinking awake in the sunlight under the hedge.
“I must help them,” he murmured aloud. “Whatever happens, SkyClan must be found.”
For the next three sunrises Firestar and Sandstorm journeyed on. The river grew steadily narrower, foaming around sharp gray rocks. Everywhere Firestar could see traces of the huge wave that had swept Sandstorm away: scattered branches, debris caught in the hedge, drying puddles left on the path. In the shallows under the bank, moorhens called miserably for lost chicks.
“Do you think it’s much farther?” Sandstorm meowed. “If the river gets much narrower, it’ll vanish altogether.”
“You’re right. We should start looking for signs of SkyClan,” Firestar replied.
“What sort of signs? Border scent markings?”
Firestar shook his head. “I doubt it. That would mean there’s still a Clan protecting its territory. The SkyClan cat I spoke to said the Clan had been scattered.”
“But there must be some SkyClan cats left,” Sandstorm pointed out. “Otherwise what are we doing here?”
“Maybe there’ll be just a few cats, trying to live by the warrior code,” Firestar suggested.
Sandstorm nodded, then sighed. “I wonder. Or maybe they don’t remember who they are anymore.”
Looking ahead, Firestar saw the jagged tops of a range of hills. They didn’t look as sharp and bleak as Highstones, but they were higher than WindClan’s moorland. It might have looked like a refuge to a fleeing Clan who wanted to be far away from other cats and Twolegs.
The path grew sandy, staining their paws orange and stinging their eyes when a breeze picked up. The sun was still strong; Firestar and Sandstorm were glad of the shade from trees that grew along the hedge.
Firestar felt his neck fur begin to bristle as two or three Twoleg nests came into view. Was this the beginning of another Twolegplace to get lost in? The path led right past the front of the nests, and a litter of Twoleg kits were running up and down.
Sandstorm touched his shoulder with her tail tip. “Let’s see if we can get around.”
She found a gap in the hedge and led the way through into a field of rough grass. The two cats padded across it, skirting the fences of Twoleg gardens, until they came to a narrow Thunderpath.
Firestar paused; the reek of monsters was faint and stale.
He glanced at Sandstorm. “Do you think it’s safe to cross?”
Sandstorm gave a quick glance up and down, then darted across. Firestar followed hard on her paws. On the other side was more rough grass, and it didn’t take long to skirt the remaining Twoleg nests until the river came in sight again.
As they drew closer, Firestar could hear the squeals of more Twoleg kits. He let out a faint hiss of annoyance; he thought they had dodged all the Twolegs by avoiding the nests. Once he reached the path again he could see that here the river widened into a round, shallow pool. Several Twoleg kits were bouncing around in the shallows, shrieking happily and splashing one another with water. On the bank two older Twoleg females sat on pelts.
“Playing in water!” Sandstorm wrinkled her nose with disgust as she came to stand beside Firestar. “I always knew Twolegs were mad. They’ll freeze to death without any hair on their pelts.”
Before she finished speaking, a louder screech came from the young Twolegs. A couple of them bounded out of the water and dashed toward Firestar and Sandstorm with their paws outstretched, sending drops of water flying.
“Run!” Firestar meowed.
The first Twoleg kit nearly grabbed him as he whisked away. Behind him, he heard a yowl from one of the older Twoleg females. Glancing back, he saw that she had risen to her paws and was calling the young Twolegs, who trailed back toward her. Still, he and Sandstorm kept running until the river curved away and the Twoleg kits were left behind.
At last they halted, sides heaving, where an elder bush cast deep shade over the riverbank.
“I can hear something,” Sandstorm whispered.
Firestar pricked his ears. From somewhere ahead came a roaring sound like the waterfall in RiverClan territory.
Cautiously he led the way around the next bend.
In front of him, water slid in a smooth curve over the top of a cliff, turning to white foam as it tumbled over jutting rocks and crashed into a pool below. The air was full of mist, splitting the sunlight into tiny dancing rainbows.
Firestar stood still for a moment, enjoying the cool spray as it soaked into his hot fur. Meanwhile Sandstorm padded up to the edge of the pool and ventured out onto an overhanging rock.
“Be careful!” Firestar called out, his heart lurching as he imagined her falling into the churning pool. “The rocks will be slippery.”
Sandstorm waved her tail to show she’d heard him; Firestar hoped she wasn’t annoyed that he’d tried to warn her.
A couple of heartbeats later, the ginger she-cat darted a paw down into the water; silver flashed in the air, and a fish lay wriggling on the rock. Sandstorm planted a paw on it to stop it from flopping back into the pool.
“Hey, I thought you said you weren’t a RiverClan cat,” Firestar teased as he bounded up to her.
Sandstorm picked the fish up in her jaws and joined him on the bank. “The stupid creature practically came up and begged to be caught,” she told him, dropping her prey at his paws.
ThunderClan cats didn’t usually eat fish, but Firestar found the unfamiliar taste delicious as he devoured his share.
Cleaning his whiskers when he had finished, he looked up at the cliff face beside the waterfall. Moss-covered rocks jutted out of it, with clumps of fern spilling over them.
“It doesn’t look too hard to climb,” he mewed. “We’d better try, before the sun goes down.”
He started to claw his way up the rocks, anxiety throbbing through him as he struggled to keep his balance. The water thundered down less than a tail-length away; if they slipped into it they would be flung into the pool below. Where the rocks were bare they were slick with spray, and the moss pulled away when Firestar tried to put his weight on it. Ferns slapped him in the face, showering him with drops of water.
Dragging himself onto a flat rock, he paused for a moment to rest, his flanks heaving as he fought for breath. Looking back to check on Sandstorm, he spotted her balanced precar-iously on a boulder at the bottom of a sheer slab of rock.
“Are you stuck?” he called to her. “Hang on; I’ll come down and help.”
Sandstorm gazed up at him and bared her teeth in a hiss that was drowned by the thunder of the water. “Stay where you are,” she called back. “I can manage.”