“Maybe we can hunt in peace now,” Gray added.
Brambleclaw shouldered his way into the cluster of excited cats. “No,” he meowed. “The battle is not over. There are no borders.”
“But there are!” Screech slipped between two older cats to confront Brambleclaw, his neck fur bristling. “You helped set them yourself!”
“And the intruders have already crossed them,” Stormfur meowed.
Gasps of astonishment and snarls of fury rose from the cats gathered around as the gray warrior quickly described their encounter with Flick’s patrol. “They can’t do that!”
some cat exclaimed.
“They have,” Talon replied flatly.
“There are no borders if the other side won’t recognize them,” Squirrelflight pointed out.
“That is true.” Hollypaw whipped around to see that Stoneteller had taken his place on the boulder. The old cat’s fur was fluffed up with anger and he glared at Brambleclaw.
“So all our efforts have been wasted. What do you suggest that we do now?”
“There’s only one thing left to do,” Brambleclaw meowed, dipping his head respectfully to the old cat. “We must take the battle to the trespassers and defeat them once and for all.”
Stoneteller drew back his lips in the beginnings of a snarl.
Every cat in the cave fell silent as his amber eyes searched out Stormfur. “No,” he mewed. His voice was soft but charged with fury. “We tried that once, and too many lives were lost.
Too many cats will never walk these mountains again.”
“But this time will be different,” Brambleclaw promised.
“Your cats have been training to fight. And this time they will fight with a clear purpose—to defend their territory, instead of trying to drive out the intruders.” He hesitated, drawing a deep breath, then added, “It’s your choice. You can fight, or be driven from your home.”
A babble of conflicting voices rose from the Tribe cats.
Stoneteller silenced it with a single lash of his tail.
“Very well,” he hissed. “The Tribe shall choose—and prove once and for all that we are not a Clan.”
Hollypaw caught a startled glance from Lionpaw.
“What’s he meowing about?” her brother asked. “Of course they’re not a Clan.”
“He doesn’t want them to fight,” Hollypaw mewed. “But perhaps he thinks it’s fairer to let the Tribe decide. After all, they’ll have to live with the decision.”
The Tribe cats were looking at one another with bewilderment in their eyes. Confused murmurs came from them; eventually Crag spoke up. “Stoneteller, we don’t understand.
What do you want us to do?”
“I should have thought that was clear enough.”
Stoneteller’s voice was icy. “I want you to choose what we should do—find a new place to live, or stay and fight. The Tribe of Endless Hunting does not want me to influence your decision.”
“I bet they don’t.” The furious mutter startled Hollypaw.
She glanced over her shoulder to see that Jaypaw had joined them, sitting with his tail curled neatly over his paws.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Her brother twitched his ears. “Don’t you get it? Stoneteller can say what he likes about the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Who’s to know any different?”
Hollypaw stared at him in alarm. How could Jaypaw say that? No Clan cat would dare tell lies about StarClan—how could it be so different for the Tribe?
Stoneteller began to speak again. “All cats who wish to fight should go to that side of the cave.” He waved his tail.
“Those who wish to flee, go to the other side. Remember that you choose the future of your Tribe.”
“Let’s hope they have a future,” Lionpaw murmured.
For a few heartbeats no cat moved. Hollypaw thought that the Tribe cats were too bewildered by what Stoneteller was telling them to do. Then she spotted the skinny white elder, Cloud, muttering to another old cat, a speckled brown tom.
“What do you think, Rain?” Cloud asked him. “Fight or flee?”
The old tom let out a disgusted snort. “I never wanted to fight, but I’m too old to flee far.”
Just beyond the elders, two she-cats had their heads together, murmuring anxiously to each other.
“Swoop, what should we do? I can’t fight while I’m suckling my kits. But they can’t flee; their eyes are barely open!
And I won’t leave them.”
“Don’t worry, Flight,” the other she-cat mewed soothingly.
“No cat expects you to abandon your kits. I won’t leave mine, either.”
Talon loomed over them; both she-cats looked up at him uncertainly.
“Choose to fight,” the huge cave-guard growled. “That way, the Tribe will protect you as it protects all kit-mothers and their litters.” He encircled both she-cats with his tail and drew them over to the “fight” side of the cave, where he stood beside them as if he was already protecting them from danger.
By now Hollypaw could see that the Tribe was beginning to divide into two groups. Pebble and Splash bounded quickly over to choose fighting. Screech spat something after them that Hollypaw couldn’t catch and withdrew to the far side with the other to-be prey-hunter. Night joined Talon, but to Hollypaw’s surprise Gray chose to flee and Bird, after a brief hesitation, chose that too.
Hollypaw found that her heart was pounding and her muscles were tense. She didn’t know why it should matter so much to her that the Tribe should keep its home in the mountains; she only knew that it did matter, desperately. If they left their home they would have to suffer the hardships and dangers of a long journey, and they would leave all their traditions, everything that was familiar, behind them. They would no longer be the Tribe.
Now very few cats remained to choose. Crag still stood in the center of the cave, his eyes troubled. Eventually, with a curt nod to Brambleclaw, he padded over to join the cats who had chosen to fight. Talon welcomed him with a tail tip on his shoulder.
All this time Stormfur and Brook had stood silent, their pelts brushing. At last Brook glanced up at Stormfur, pleading in her eyes. He touched his nose to her ear, then laid his tail across her back and led her over to her brother, Talon.
“Do they get to choose?” Lionpaw asked in a whisper. “Are they Tribe or Clan?”
“I don’t think even they know,” Hollypaw replied.
The Clan cats remained in the middle of the cave, drawing closer together as the Tribe moved away. At last they were alone. Hollypaw’s heart raced when she realized that there were more cats on the “fight” side of the cave.
“They’ve chosen to fight,” she murmured to Jaypaw.
Her brother flicked his tail. “Good.”
Brambleclaw glanced from side to side, then dipped his head to Stoneteller. “Healer, the choice seems clear,” he announced. “Your Tribe wishes to fight.”
Stoneteller’s fur bristled. Hollypaw could see that he hadn’t expected this. His eyes narrowed as he glared at Brambleclaw.
“So be it,” he hissed. “And may you sleep well at night, Clan cat. This battle will destroy my Tribe.”
Brambleclaw waited until the Healer had leaped down from the boulder and vanished, with a final lash of his tail, into the passage that led to the Cave of Pointed Stones. Then he turned to face the rest of the cats in the cave. The Tribe, even those who had chosen to fight, looked nervous, as if they realized what a huge decision they had just made.
“Right, time to get ready.” Brambleclaw’s voice was brisk and confident. “We must strike at once, before the intruders have the chance to attack first. There’s a full moon tonight, so that will help.”
Hollypaw flinched, every hair on her pelt rising in protest.
The full moon was a time of peace! Back beside the lake, the Clans would be Gathering on the island. Though she knew it was impossible, her paws wanted to carry her out of the cave and back down the mountain to be with them. But the full moon’s not special for the Tribe, she reminded herself.