Squirrelflight looked torn, as if she wasn’t sure how to reply. “Yes, Bramblestar is concerned,” she began, “but . . .” Her voice trailed off and she looked down at her paws.
“Well, I’m inclined to agree with Frecklewish,” Leafstar meowed. “At the gorge, our medicine cats never had any trouble connecting with our ancestors.”
Harestar twitched his whiskers nervously. “Yes, I agree too. WindClan has suffered the worst of this harsh weather. Hunting is nearly impossible, and my cats are starving. We need StarClan’s guidance, so we must do all we can to restore the connection.”
“What do you think, Mistystar?” Leafstar asked, when the RiverClan leader did not speak.
Mistystar shook her head. “I’m not sure . . . ,” she responded reluctantly. “I understand that the medicine cats have different feelings about this. So I’d rather leave RiverClan’s decision in the paws of my medicine cats.”
Mothwing and Willowshine exchanged a glance. “I’m not sure the warriors should help,” Willowshine mewed. “But I miss StarClan’s advice as much as any cat. I’ll go with the majority decision.”
“So will I,” Mothwing added.
Every cat turned to look at Squirrelflight, who sighed and seemed reluctant to speak. “I must vote with Bramblestar,” she stated at last; Rootpaw could see the tension in her gaze. “He believes that we desperately need StarClan’s guidance. The warriors should break the ice.”
At Squirrelflight’s words the medicine cats stood back to allow the warriors to take the spiral path. The Clan leaders led the way, their tails waving as they charged downward to the edge of the pool. Rootpaw was aware of Jayfeather glaring at them, his fur bushed out until the scrawny cat looked twice his normal size.
Rootpaw hung back, a mixture of confusion and despair dragging at his paws. Is this right? he asked himself.
Behind him, Tree abruptly stopped. “I don’t think I can do this,” he said aloud.
A chorus of surprise came from the cats surrounding them. “What does that mean?” Birchfall, from ThunderClan, asked. Rootpaw thought his tone was a little hostile.
Tree didn’t look bothered as he stared back at the ThunderClan cat. “It doesn’t feel right,” he said simply. “I don’t fully understand all your Clan beliefs, but I know that the Moonpool is a sacred place. I know that the medicine cats have special powers. I’m not sure we should be intruding.”
Rootpaw wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Please stop, please stop, he wished fiercely. They already think you’re strange enough.
“You’re a warrior now, Tree,” Crowfeather, the WindClan deputy, meowed irritably. “It’s not your job to decide what’s right. It’s your job to obey your leader.”
“And Leafstar said yes,” Birchfall added.
All eyes turned to Leafstar, who was watching the scene from the bottom of the spiral path, where she stood with Squirrelflight. The SkyClan leader looked torn.
“I’m not a warrior,” Tree clarified. “I’m a mediator. And as mediator, it troubles me that ShadowClan was not included in this effort. I believe I made that clear before.”
Leafstar’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “That was the leaders’ decision.”
“But why?” Tree asked. “Because their medicine-cat apprentice is a little odd? Who’s not?”
Rootpaw cringed. He wondered whether, if he wished hard enough, he might become invisible.
By now Tree’s argument was holding up the procession of warriors. Some cats behind him grumbled in annoyance, but others seemed swayed by his argument.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be touching the Moonpool,” Spotfur, a she-cat from ThunderClan, mewed, looking thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to upset any cat . . . dead or alive.”
“The medicine cats have always said the Moonpool is sacred,” Stemleaf agreed. “Should we believe that’s changed, just because we’re desperate to hear from StarClan?”
“Oh, come on.” Rootpaw’s heart leaped at the sound of Bristlefrost’s voice. The ThunderClan warrior swerved around her two Clanmates to continue along the path. “You all heard the leaders. We have to do whatever we can to reach StarClan!”
But Tree, Stemleaf, and Spotfur all still hesitated. Tree’s gaze was leveled squarely on his leader.
Leafstar flicked her tail in annoyance. “Very well,” she said. “Any SkyClan cat who doesn’t feel comfortable touching the Moonpool, turn back. Your objections have been heard.”
Tree nodded, satisfied. Then he turned and began walking up the spiral path, pushing his way past a cluster of RiverClan warriors who were still heading down. Rootpaw heard them grumble in annoyance.
He looked at his mother, Violetshine, who watched Tree leave with a bemused expression. Finally she turned to face Rootpaw, who shot her a questioning look. But she shook her head slightly and continued down the spiral path.
“I’m following Tree,” Needlepaw said decisively from behind Rootpaw. “I’m not sure this is right.” She turned back to follow her father.
“All ThunderClan warriors,” Squirrelflight called in a tight voice, “we need you to help break the ice. As your acting leader, I command you to help!”
Rootpaw could hear the grumbles of Spotfur and Stemleaf. His own paws trembled with indecision. Does Tree have a point? Is this right?
But then he saw Bristlefrost stroll past him, following Violetshine. She glanced at Rootpaw and winked.
Without another thought, he fell into step behind the ThunderClan warrior.
I’m in.
“One, two, three!” Crowfeather yelled a few moments later. Rootpaw pressed his forepaws against the back of a huge, long, flat rock, squeezed between the bodies of countless warriors from four Clans. “Now!”
They all heaved forward, grunting, and managed to push the rock up onto the first of two logs. Alderheart, it seemed, had found the rock lying against the wall of the Moonpool cave, and Crowfeather, Hawkwing, and Reedwhisker had worked together to organize the warriors to move it closer to the Moonpool itself. It was the hope of the three deputies, who’d taken charge of the scene, that once the rock was placed across three logs, the warriors could push it to the edge of the Moonpool, then push it in. They all hoped that the rock was heavy enough—and, when turned on its end, sharp enough—to break through the final layer of ice.
Rootpaw’s shoulders ached. Even with countless warriors’ help, the rock was heavy. Which was exactly why they all hoped it would work.
As Crowfeather and the other deputies ordered the warriors into place for the next push, Rootpaw rose up on his hind legs and stared into the Moonpool. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting—maybe something deep, clear, shrouded with fog and stars. Something clearly mystical, touched by StarClan. But now, at least, the Moonpool simply looked like a block of grayish-white ice sunk into a dark rocky bank. The medicine cats had made a break in the ice and dug out an uneven chunk, now pushed off to the side. It had left a wide, triangular gash, which only revealed . . . more ice.
How far down does the ice go? Rootpaw wondered. From their whispers and mumblings, he knew many of the other warriors were wondering the same thing. He couldn’t see any sign of water beneath. It felt different from the ice on the lake where he’d fallen in. There he’d been able to feel the ice give, to hear the sloshing of life below.
In contrast, the Moonpool felt inert . . . almost dead, Rootpaw thought with despair. Surely that can’t be good.
He could only hope they’d succeed in bringing it back to life.
“Warriors, places!” Hawkwing yelled. “We’re almost there! One, two . . .”