“No.” Brook bent down and touched each of their noses in turn. “You’re safe inside the cave.”
Dovewing stood close to Foxleap so that their pelts brushed. “We should never have made this journey,” she murmured. “Jayfeather won’t tell us why we had to come, and now a cat is dead.”
Foxleap nodded. “I want to go home.”
Movement in the shadows of the cave caught Dovewing’s eye, and she spotted Stoneteller stalking toward them, with Crag at his shoulder. The old cat halted in front of the group, his amber eyes glaring with anger and hatred.
“No cat wanted you here,” he snarled. “And now one of the Tribe is dead because of you.”
“You can’t blame Foxleap!” Dovewing stepped forward, her neck fur bristling with anger. “He was very brave.”
“I don’t blame Foxleap,” Stoneteller rasped. “I blame all of you. If you had never come to the mountains, Swoop would still be alive.”
Squirrelflight stretched out her tail to touch Dovewing’s shoulder. “He’s right,” she murmured. “We’ll leave as soon as we can. Stoneteller, we are all sorrier than we can say.”
As the old cat opened his jaws to reply, a muffled noise sounded behind them; Dovewing turned to see Jayfeather padding from the Cave of Pointed Stones. His blind blue eyes stared at her. “It’s my fault,” he rasped. “I was the one who said we had to come. I will do what I have to, and then we will leave.”
Chapter 22
Jayfeather felt as if all the weight of the mountains was resting on his shoulders, but he braced himself and turned to Stoneteller. “Your Tribe will always be loyal to the Teller of the Pointed Stones,” he meowed. “You need to return their loyalty by having faith that you are destined to be here. Your descendants will survive if you give them hope now.”
“But—” Stoneteller began.
Jayfeather didn’t let him speak. “The time has come to choose your successor.”
His words fell into silence. Jayfeather was conscious of the Tribe of Rushing Water around him, waiting for their Healer’s reply.
The old cat hauled himself to his paws. “It’s too late,” he growled. “Our ancestors no longer watch over us. We are alone.” Turning, he limped down the tunnel into his den-cave. Jayfeather pictured his Tribemates staring after him, as murmurs of protest began to rise from them.
“What does he mean?”
“Has the Tribe of Endless Hunting abandoned us?”
“What’s going to happen?”
“Calm down.” Bird’s voice rose above the rest. “Stoneteller is very troubled, but he is still our Healer. He will protect us. Let him sleep.”
The murmuring died away, but Jayfeather could tell that the cats were still uneasy.
“I want to go now.” Jayfeather heard the slap of Dovewing’s paw on the stone floor.
“So do I,” Foxleap added.
“I know. I want to leave, too,” Squirrelflight meowed. “But we can’t set off when night is falling. We’ll go home tomorrow. Is that all right with you, Jayfeather? Will you have finished whatever you need to do here?”
Jayfeather nodded, ignoring Dovewing’s hiss of impatience. “Yes, we can leave tomorrow.”
“Let’s find you a nest.” Squirrelflight drew Dovewing away, and Foxleap padded after them. “You’ll both need a good night’s sleep if we’re to travel tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” Dovewing retorted. “I’ll keep on seeing Swoop, I know I will.”
Jayfeather waited until their voices had died away, then padded back into the Cave of Pointed Stones. Blind once again, he could still remember the pinnacles of stone and the thin shaft of moonlight cast into the shallow pools. He remembered how Half Moon had patted the water and set the reflection flickering. Taking a deep breath, he searched for her scent, but all he could smell was stone and water.
He found a dry spot at the foot of one of the columns and lay down, curling up and wrapping his tail over his nose. He felt very much alone, grief and regret for Swoop biting deep into him.
I know what I have to do to help the Tribe, but was Swoop’s life too great a price to pay for our visit?
Jayfeather’s eyes flickered open and he saw a sheet of dark water stretching in front of him. Starlight shimmered on its surface. Springing to his paws, he realized that he had returned to the stone hollow in the mountains that he had visited once before, led there by an elder of the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Sheer cliffs rose all around him, lined by cats whose pelts glowed with starshine. In silence they gazed down at Jayfeather.
He lifted his head and boldly returned their gaze, scanning the ranks of starry cats. He recognized Fall and Slant, who had spoken to him before, and Rain, who had been an elder when Jayfeather first visited the Tribe. Farther up the cliff, he made out the fainter outlines of Owl Feather, Stone Song, and Rising Moon. They dipped their heads to him, but did not speak.
Jayfeather’s heart lurched. Is Half Moon here? It seemed like only a heartbeat since he had been with her on the cliff top, yet he knew that she had been dead for seasons upon seasons. He searched the cliff face, but there was no sign of her graceful white pelt.
Has she faded away completely? Am I too late to keep her here with my memories?
He couldn’t see Jay’s Wing, Dove’s Wing, or Lion’s Roar, either, then scolded himself for being mouse-brained enough to look for them. Of course they’re not with the Tribe of Endless Hunting! We live on in ThunderClan!
A pale gray she-cat rose to her paws and jumped down from a boulder at the bottom of the cliff. Padding around the edge of the pool, she halted in front of Jayfeather. “I am Cloud with Storm in Belly,” she introduced herself.
“I know you, don’t I?” Jayfeather recalled. “You were a Tribe elder when I first came to the mountains.”
“I was. And I am the mother of the present Stoneteller. Now it is time for my son to join the Tribe of Endless Hunting.”
A shiver ran through Jayfeather. “But he hasn’t chosen a successor!”
“I know.” Cloud’s eyes, like tiny moons, were fixed on Jayfeather. “Tomorrow it will be your duty to name the next Stoneteller.” As Jayfeather gaped at her in dismay, she went on. “Not all of us have abandoned the Tribe. Some of us still have faith that it will survive.”
“But—but how can I appoint a new Healer?” Jayfeather stammered.
Cloud leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “Because you appointed the first, remember?” She turned to look up the cliff, angling her ears toward a shape at the very top of the ranks of cats, glowing and barely visible.
“Half Moon…” Jayfeather breathed. He strained to see more clearly, but he was too far away to make out her features.
“We have been grateful to you for all these years,” Cloud went on. “We always knew that you would come back. What you do now will affect all cats, past and future, from the lake and the mountains and the old forest where your Clans lived for so long.”
Jayfeather wrenched his gaze from Half Moon and stared at Cloud. “I don’t understand…” he faltered.
“The end of the stars draws near,” Cloud continued. “Three must become four, to challenge the darkness that lasts forever.”
Jayfeather stepped back, realizing that the ranks of starry cats around them had begun to fade. There was darkness on all sides of the hollow, penetrated by only the tiniest faint gleams of light.
“But we have always been three!” he cried. “Who is the fourth?”
The icy glow of starlight from Cloud’s pelt grew dimmer. Her voice grew fainter, too, as she replied, “The fourth is with you already. You will not have to search far.”