“I don’t know.” Leafstar’s sigh was weary. “The important thing now is to follow the prophecy. Our Clan is on the verge of being destroyed. If we want to save SkyClan, we must find the spark that remains. Then we will see what the future holds for us.”
Hawkwing’s belly lurched and he felt as if he would vomit.
We’ve already tried twice to find ThunderClan, and both times it ended in disaster. He reflected that it was Darktail who had led them into trouble on the previous quests, but even so, SkyClan knew no more now than they had then. How can we possibly succeed?
“It’s clear that StarClan is testing us in many ways,” Leafstar continued. “We lost our deputy, Sharpclaw.”
As he heard some cats gasp, others sigh, Hawkwing felt as though clouds had gathered to cover the sun. He knew that SkyClan now needed a new deputy, but everything in him refused to accept it. Sharpclaw is our deputy. Replacing him just made it clear that Sharpclaw was truly dead.
In his mind’s eye Hawkwing could see Rain creeping up on his father, and Darktail’s murderous blow that had ended Sharpclaw’s life. Repressing a shudder, he met Pebblepaw’s steady gaze, and immediately felt a little stronger. She stretched her tail across his shoulders, wordlessly comforting him.
“Cats of SkyClan,” Leafstar began, her gaze traveling over the remnants of her Clan. “Yesterday Sharpclaw died honorably in battle, killed by the most treacherous cat I have ever known. We will never forget him. But the Clan must go on, and I must appoint a new deputy.”
Hawkwing’s grief eased just a little as Leafstar praised his father. She’s right; we’ll never forget you, he thought. I’m proud to be your son.
“I say these words before StarClan,” Leafstar continued, “that the spirits of our ancestors may hear and approve my choice.
Waspwhisker will be the new deputy of SkyClan.”
A murmur of appreciation rose from the cats clustered around their leader, while Waspwhisker’s eyes widened in surprise, and a pleased expression spread over his face.
“Leafstar, I never expected this honor,” he meowed. “I can never be as noble a cat as Sharpclaw was, but I swear by StarClan that I will be a loyal and faithful deputy.”
“Waspwhisker! Waspwhisker!” the SkyClan cats chanted.
Hawkwing joined in; a mixture of pride, happiness, and grief warmed his pelt at the words Waspwhisker had spoken about his father. Though he was still troubled that Sharpclaw would no longer be deputy, he knew what a good choice Leafstar had made.
Waspwhisker was a strong, brave warrior, but he was wise as well, and he would support his leader and his Clan through the dark days that were to come.
Every cat respects him, Hawkwing thought. If any cat can help lead us out of these dark times, it’s Waspwhisker.
Chapter 19
“Can you see any cat?” Hawkwing called, craning his neck to make out Pebblepaw’s speckled pelt among the leaves of the beech tree.
“Not a whisker!” Pebblepaw replied.
She reappeared, carefully sliding down from branch to branch, then leaped to the ground and landed with a thump at Hawkwing’s side.
Two sunrises had passed since the remains of SkyClan had gathered at Ebonyclaw’s nest. Since then, many more cats had made their way there, but some were still missing.
Blossomheart is back, but there’s been no sign of Cherrytail or Cloudmist, Hawkwing thought, his heart aching. Plumwillow’s mate, Sandynose, isn’t back yet, and neither are Frecklewish and Fallowfern. He knew that every cat was beginning to lose hope of ever seeing them again.
And there had been more sad news to add to the survivors’ grief. Rileypaw had seen Stormheart struck down at the foot of the Rockpile when the battle had barely begun. Tinycloud had found
Snipkit washed up on the riverbank, and carried the tiny limp body back to her Clan for burial.
Laying the tiny body in the earth, seeing Snipkit’s life cut off when she was so young, was one of the most painful experiences of Hawkwing’s life. Her littermates, Curlykit and Fidgetkit, had whimpered all through it, and ever since, Hawkwing had noticed that they wandered around in a daze, all their high spirits gone.
I wonder if they’ll ever get over losing her.
Every time another cat found their way to Ebonyclaw’s nest, Hawkwing hardly dared speak to them, in case they brought news of Cherrytail’s or Cloudmist’s death. It was harder still to go out on patrol.
I’m almost afraid to go on looking, Hawkwing thought, in case I find something else terrible.
Now he and Pebblepaw were searching the forest on the opposite side of the gorge from the camp. Pebblepaw had suggested climbing the tree to see if she could spot any cat, but she had seen nothing.
“This is hopeless,” Hawkwing muttered. “Our missing Clanmates must be dead by now.”
“You don’t know that,” Pebblepaw insisted, twining her tail affectionately with Hawkwing’s. “Good things do happen, remember? Blossomheart made it back to camp soon after we did, and you heard from Harveymoon how he found Firefern trapped in a Twoleg den. He had to brave the Twolegs’ dog, but he got
Firefern out.”
“That’s true,” Hawkwing responded, “but…”
“And Darktail’s rogues haven’t bothered us,” Pebblepaw added. “That has to be good.”
Hawkwing twitched his whiskers. I wonder what Darktail is up to, now that he has what he wanted. Will we ever see the gorge again? “Since we haven’t tried to take back the gorge,” he mewed dryly, “Darktail probably thinks we aren’t a threat.”
But though his words were somber, Hawkwing rubbed his cheek against Pebblepaw’s, grateful for her hopeful spirit. We’re both young, and she’s still an apprentice—but I know she’ll be my mate someday. And I know she feels the same.
The two cats continued through the forest, stopping every few fox-lengths to yowl for their missing Clanmates. Hawkwing was ready to give up, convinced that their efforts were pointless, when they heard an answering, distant yowl.
Delight sprang into Pebblepaw’s eyes. “This way!” she exclaimed.
Hawkwing followed her as she raced around a bramble thicket and up a fern-covered slope on the other side. At the top of the rise a steeper slope fell away into a clearing covered with low-growing bushes.
Hawkwing let out another yowl as he and Pebblepaw scrambled down. To his amazement the undergrowth parted and his sister Cloudmist emerged.
“Hawkwing!” she called. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”
Hawkwing skidded to a halt in front of his sister, touching noses with her and drinking in her sweet, familiar scent. “I’d given up hope of finding you,” he choked out.
“And I’m not alone,” Cloudmist purred, her eyes shining.
“Cherrytail is here too. Come and see.”
Turning, she led the way into a clear space among the bushes, where Hawkwing found his mother lying stretched out on a bed of ferns. Cobweb was plastered over her tortoiseshell fur all along one side.
“You’re hurt!” Hawkwing meowed.
Cherrytail’s eyes were shining as she stretched upward to press her muzzle against Hawkwing’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” she murmured.
“She was wounded in the battle,” Cloudmist explained. “We managed to hide here, but I was afraid to leave her to get help.
Darktail and his rogues might have found her.”
Hawkwing’s chest swelled, and he couldn’t help give a sigh of relief.