The SkyClan cats struggled to their paws, so confused by sleep that they were hardly able to take in Hawkwing’s panicked yowls.
“Take it easy,” Sparrowpelt yawned. “You’ve had a bad dream, that’s all. No need to wake the whole Clan.” He yawned again and added, “Stormheart’s on watch. She would warn us if—”
A screech coming from the bottom of the gorge interrupted what Sparrowpelt was saying. Hawkwing reached out a paw and roughly shook the senior warrior’s shoulder.
“That was Stormheart,” he meowed. “And this is no dream. We have to fight.”
Hawkwing rapidly checked that his mother and sisters were rousing. Then, knowing that Stormheart was alone beside the Rockpile, he darted outside again and bounded down the trail behind the wave of attacking cats. As he hurtled downward he let out more warning yowls.
Leafstar was already awake, emerging from her den and stretching her jaws in a long caterwaul before racing down the trail just ahead of Hawkwing.
A quick glance over his shoulder showed Hawkwing that his Clanmates were following, fully roused now and shrieking defiance.
Sharpclaw was in the lead, his paws hardly touching the rocks as he hurled himself toward his Clan’s enemies.
Yes! Hawkwing thought with a touch of pride. My father will fight them off!
He couldn’t spot Darktail, and briefly wondered where the rogue tom was, but there was no time to think about that now.
Pebblepaw and Parsleypaw bundled out of the apprentices’ den, their eyes wide and their fur bushing up. Bellapaw and Rileypaw followed.
“Stay back!” Hawkwing snapped. “This is no place for apprentices.”
“Fox dung to that!” Pebblepaw hissed through clenched teeth, as the four young cats fell in behind Hawkwing.
They’re all so brave! Hawkwing couldn’t help but be impressed, even while he felt that the apprentices would have been safer in their den.
A shriek sounded from the bottom of the gorge, abruptly cut off. Every drop of Hawkwing’s blood seemed to freeze.
Stormheart!
With a final massive leap, Hawkwing slammed into the rear of the rogue attack. For a few moments he struggled with fur pressing in on him from every side, unable to get any strength behind his blows. He thrust at the bodies surrounding him, finally managing to win a little space for himself. At last he could attack, his paws splayed out, his claws slashing in a hot surge of fury, as he struck out at random, not knowing or caring who his enemies were.
Then a face loomed up in front of him, and he recognized the ginger tom he had fought when Waspwhisker’s patrol were setting the border markers.
“Oh, you again!” the ginger tom snarled. “You want to finish what we started?”
“M ange-pelt!” Hawkwing snarled, raking his claws across the ginger tom’s muzzle. “Get out of our camp!”
The tom staggered back, clearly startled at Hawkwing’s swift response. Hawkwing felt a grim satisfaction as he saw dark drops welling out of the wound he had made, and the reek of blood hit him in the throat.
He ducked as the ginger tom swept his forepaw around in a blow aimed at his shoulder; the rogue cat’s claws passed harmlessly through his fur, and Hawkwing managed to butt his head into the tom’s belly, unbalancing him.
Another rogue—a black-and-white tom—pressed forward into the gap between Hawkwing and his opponent, his claws reaching for Pebblepaw, who was still fighting at Hawkwing’s side.
Instinctively Hawkwing slipped in front of the apprentice, shielding her as he dug his claws into the black-and-white tom’s shoulder.
“Get out of here!” he gasped to Pebblepaw.
The young she-cat didn’t even bother to reply. Instead, she leaped at the rogue tom on the other side and raked her claws along his flank. The tom let out a screech and backed off, disappearing into the fray.
Hawkwing felt furious with Pebblepaw, terrified and proud all at once. They exchanged a glance, Hawkwing gave her a nod of acknowledgment, then both cats sprang back into the battle.
The first heaving bundle of fighting cats had begun to split up into separate skirmishes straggling alongside the river. In a brief respite, Hawkwing saw that his Clanmates were holding their own, even though they were outnumbered by the band of rogues.
If only we had our daylight warriors! he thought. Then a sudden realization hit him. The rogues must have been watching us.
They must have known that the Twolegs were keeping our Clanmates inside because of the raccoons!
He noticed too that clouds were building up overhead, blotting out the stars. The moon gleamed fitfully through the gaps. The air was heavy and damp, and Hawkwing felt the first fat drops of rain spatter onto his pelt.
He had lost sight of Pebblepaw, and as he glanced around, desperately trying to spot her, he saw Sandynose near the foot of the cliff, pinned down by an enormous tabby rogue, who slashed his claws again and again over the Clan cat’s shoulders. Sandynose was writhing furiously in an effort to throw him off.
Hawkwing hurled himself across the ground and barreled into the side of the tabby tom, flinging him against the rock face. The tabby let out a yelp of pain, all the breath driven out of him.
Before he could recover, Hawkwing scored his claws down his hindquarters, and drove him off, yowling, into the night.
“Thanks!” Sandynose gasped, staggering to his paws, then bounding off to where Waspwhisker was tussling with a skinny tortoiseshell rogue.
In the darkness and the rain—growing heavier with every heartbeat—it was becoming harder to distinguish the Clan cats from the rogues. Hawkwing spotted a ginger tom racing toward him and whirled around, one forepaw raised to strike.
“Hey, it’s me!”
Hawkwing recognized Bouncefire’s voice, and lowered his paw.
“Sorry.”
Beyond Bouncefire, Hawkwing made out the pale pelt of Darktail. “This way,” the white tom meowed, angling his ears toward a cluster of the invading rogues who were battling Tinycloud, Rabbitleap, and Harrybrook at the very edge of the river.
Hawkwing sprang forward with Bouncefire next to him, and Darktail on the ginger tom’s other side. A rogue cat leaped into their path to stop them, but Hawkwing pushed him aside with one swipe of his claws.
With Bouncefire and Darktail beside him, Hawkwing suddenly felt more optimistic. We can win this battle!
Another rogue hurtled toward them, closest to Darktail; Hawkwing held off, expecting that the white tom would throw himself into the attack. Instead, Darktail whipped around, letting the rogue race past unscathed.
“Darktail… what—?” Hawkwing began.
Darktail ignored him. With a snarl of mingled fury and triumph, he sank his claws into Bouncefire’s neck.
Sheer shock kept Hawkwing frozen for a moment. Bouncefire too was so astonished that for a couple of heartbeats he was unable to defend himself. In that moment Darktail threw himself on top of the ginger tom, pinning him to the ground and tearing at his throat.
Blood gushed out; Bouncefire’s legs jerked spasmodically and then he went limp.
“Darktail!” Hawkwing choked out. “What are you doing?”
Darktail didn’t reply. For a moment he stood motionless over Bouncefire’s body, his jaws still red with the ginger tom’s blood.
He looks like a killer, Hawkwing thought in a whirl of confusion and grief. Who is this cat?
Darktail spun around again and flung himself into the tussle beside the river, aligning himself to fight on the side of the rogues.
Hawkwing forced his paralyzed limbs into motion and bounded after him as a horrible realization washed over him.