He was even more encouraged to see that his father, Sharpclaw, was nodding in agreement. “I’ll lead a patrol—” he began.
“That’s crazy,” Plumwillow interrupted.
“Yes,” Firefern agreed. “Since the raccoons first attacked, we’ve lost the daylight warriors, and StarClan knows when their Twolegs will let them out again. We’re not as strong as we used to be.”
“And so many of our warriors are new,” Plumwillow pointed out. “They’re good, strong cats, but not exactly experienced fighters.”
Hawkwing began to bristle at the gray she-cat’s words. How many badgers have you fought off, flea-brain? But he managed not to speak his thought out loud.
“I agree with Plumwillow,” Bouncefire mewed, a hint of fear in his voice. “We’re more vulnerable than we’ve ever been. If we can’t protect our territory, then is this the end of SkyClan?”
“Who says we can’t protect our territory?” M istfeather snarled.
“But the rogues… ,” Firefern protested.
“Silence!” Leafstar hissed, lashing her tail. “I will not hear such talk. Have you forgotten our history?” she went on when the outcry had died down into something approaching quiet. “SkyClan has endured so much. When Twolegs invaded our old territory and drove us out, when the other Clans refused to share with us—not even that could end SkyClan. And this new attack won’t, either!”
Sharpclaw let out a discontented snort. “I know my history as well as any cat,” he grumbled. “And I’ve been wondering why we’re so keen to find the spark that remains—if that really does mean the kin of Firestar—when the other Clans are at least part of the reason why we were driven to settle here in the gorge in the first place.”
“Yes, the other Clans have failed us in the past,” Leafstar admitted. “But if StarClan says that we must find ThunderClan, their will is not to be questioned.”
“But so far,” Tinycloud put in, “trying to follow the will of StarClan has only led us into trouble.”
At her words, true silence fell over all the SkyClan cats, and the gaze of every cat turned to Echosong. The medicine cat was sitting on a rock at the edge of the crowd, with Frecklewish at her side.
Hawkwing realized that so far she hadn’t added anything to the discussion.
“I confess that I’m confused,” Echosong mewed after a moment’s pause. “I don’t believe that I’ve misinterpreted my visions, but there must be something that I’m not seeing.”
“Can’t you seek out StarClan?” Darktail, who had sat silent all this while at the foot of the Rockpile, rose to his paws and turned to Echosong. “Can’t you ask them for more details?”
Hawkwing twitched his whiskers in annoyance at the rogue tom’s tone, which was close to disrespectful. Then he shrugged, reflecting that Darktail wasn’t a Clan cat, and didn’t know Clan ways, especially how a medicine cat should be treated by her Clanmates. He doesn’t mean to insult Echosong.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Echosong told Darktail, her tail drooping. “I should have expected that StarClan would have given me some kind of new sign by now—but they haven’t. If StarClan had wanted to warn us about this new attack, they would have done so.”
“So does that mean this StarClan has no interest in saving SkyClan?” Rain protested, rising to stand beside Darktail. His tone was even more brusque. “Is that what you’re getting at?”
Echosong hesitated before replying. A thrill of pure dread tingled through Hawkwing as he realized that even the medicine cat might not be totally sure of what their Clan’s destiny was meant to be.
“M aybe… maybe this is our chance to prove ourselves to StarClan,” Echosong suggested at last, though her voice and her flustered look drained all the conviction out of her words. “But how or why…” The medicine cat shook her head. “I don’t know.”
A horrible silence fell over the Clan as the cats exchanged dismayed glances. What will happen to us now, Hawkwing wondered, if our medicine cat can’t advise us anymore?
“Cats of SkyClan!” Leafstar meowed after a few heartbeats.
Clearly she was trying to force energy and certainty into her voice.
“We will not do anything rash. We will protect our camp and our borders, as we always do. These rogues won’t drive us out—we’ll never let that happen. And we will wait for the next message from StarClan. I’m sure it will be coming soon. Now go to your duties.”
As the Clan began to disperse, the cats muttering uneasily to each other, Hawkwing wished that he could believe what Leafstar had said. Even more, he wished that he was sure Leafstar believed it herself.
Hawkwing joined a hunting patrol and returned just after sunhigh with a squirrel for the fresh-kill pile. All through the hunt he had been distracted, remembering the battle against the rogues and worrying about the troubles that were gathering like thick shadows around his Clan.
When he had dropped his prey on the pile, Hawkwing spotted Sharpclaw grooming himself beside the river. Longing flooded over him to ask his father’s advice, and whether there was anything he could do to help in this crisis.
But as he padded toward Sharpclaw, Hawkwing felt tension cramping his muscles, and his belly fluttered with nervousness.
Sharpclaw has been angry with me for so long, he’s not going to want to advise me now.
Hawkwing paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on Sharpclaw, who was vigorously washing his belly, quite unaware that his son was hovering nearby. Then, letting his tail droop, Hawkwing turned and began trudging back to his own den.
But as he reached the bottom of the trail, his mother, Cherrytail, bounded up to him and intercepted him before he could begin to climb.
“What’s the matter, Hawkwing?” she asked. “Don’t you want to talk to your father?”
“He won’t want to talk to me,” Hawkwing muttered.
Cherrytail gave an irritated twitch of her whiskers. “Oh, get over yourself!” she exclaimed. Then, more gently, she added, “Sharpclaw will forgive you if you apologize to him. You might even get an apology in return.”
Anger spurted up inside Hawkwing. “Why do I need to apologize? Why is it still all my fault?” he demanded, his shoulder fur beginning to bristle. “Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.”
“Then what was it?” his mother asked.
Her quiet voice, and her eyes full of sympathy, quenched Hawkwing’s anger.
“I’m worried about what happens now,” he confessed reluctantly, feeling as weak and fearful as a lost kit. “Is this what life is going to be like from now on? Always struggling, always looking out for attacks? Raccoons, rogues, or badgers—they’re all as vicious as each other. How bad are things going to get for SkyClan?”
“I don’t know,” Cherrytail admitted, heaving a sigh from the depths of her chest. “And there’s one thing I won’t say to the rest of the Clan. I’m afraid of what will happen if SkyClan is driven out of this territory as we were driven out of our old home.”
“Do you think that will happen?” Hawkwing asked, alarmed.
That’s worse than I ever imagined!
Cherrytail’s eyes were thoughtful. “Surviving our exile from our first territory is what made SkyClan who we are,” she murmured. “Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I suspect that the other four Clans, wherever they are, don’t have anything close to our spirit, because they’ve never been through the same troubles.”
“But that should make us stronger, right?” Hawkwing suggested.
Cherrytail nodded. “True, but it took a long time—and a visit from Firestar and Sandstorm—before we could find a way to put ourselves right. I’m afraid that if we are driven into exile again, SkyClan may be lost forever.”