Tallstar's Revenge (19 page)

C
HAPTER
17

Paw steps sounded in the shadows
behind Tallpaw. He scented Sparrow and looked up. The rogue had slid among the heather fronds and stood at Tallpaw's shoulder. “These are tough times, Tallpaw,” he murmured. Tallpaw moved closer to the brown tom, relieved to have someone beside him.

Heatherstar pushed between Cloudrunner and Sandgorse. “We can't let this tragedy divide us,” she meowed. “We are WindClan and we are strong.” She dipped her head to Bess and Algernon. “And thanks to our visitors' battle skills today, we are safe. If they hadn't been here, we may have lost our home.”

“What are you saying?” Hickorynose curled his lip. “That without them, ShadowClan would have won?”

Heatherstar met his gaze steadily. “Half our warriors were away tunneling. It made us vulnerable.”

Tallpaw gulped. This felt like a direct challenge to the tunnelers! Beside him, Sparrow pricked his ears.

“We were lucky our visitors were with us today,” Heatherstar went on. “But they won't be with us forever. What will happen if ShadowClan attacks once they've left?”

Plumclaw's eyes stretched into twin moons. “Are you saying we have to stop tunneling?”

Tallpaw's pads pricked as he watched his father's tail sweep the grass behind him.

“No,” Heatherstar meowed. “But we should send out smaller tunneling patrols, and give you more training in aboveground battle skills.”

Sandgorse lifted his chin. “So our skills aren't
enough
to protect the Clan?”

“I'm saying that the more skills we share, the better.” Heatherstar gazed down at Brackenwing. “But first we shall join as one Clan to sit vigil for our fallen Clanmate.” She crouched down and touched her nose to Brackenwing's ginger pelt.

Reedfeather joined her. As the Clan gathered around the dead warrior, Tallpaw ducked out from the heather and crossed the camp. Squeezing in beside Palebird, he pressed his muzzle to Brackenwing's pelt. Beneath her blood-soaked pelt, she felt like stone. Tallpaw leaned against his mother, breathing in the warm scent of her fur.

“Palebird?” he whispered.
Please tell me it's going to be okay.

Palebird nuzzled closer to Brackenwing. Heart aching, Tallpaw screwed his eyes shut.

“What's this about a gorge tunnel?” he heard Sparrow whisper from the shadows behind.

Sandgorse answered him. “We spent half of leaf-bare and all newleaf digging it,” he growled under his breath. “But we've had to abandon it.”

“Why?” Sparrow sounded curious.

“A dumb flood scared one of the apprentices.”

Tallpaw flinched.
One of the apprentices?
Is that all I am to you now?

“Why did you build a tunnel there?” Sparrow pressed.

“To give us a secret route to the river.”

“Hush!” Larksplash snapped. “We're sitting vigil!”

The grass behind Tallpaw swished as Sandgorse joined his Clanmates. Tallpaw let his head drop against his mother's shoulder. Even if she didn't seem to know he was there, he could take warmth from her pelt. Tiredness crept over him as he leaned deeper into her fur. Letting go of his misery, he drifted into sleep.

 

The movement of Brackenwing's body woke him. Tallpaw jerked up his head and blinked. The sky was pale, the beginnings of dawn showing over the heather wall. The elders were dragging their Clanmate away.

Palebird shifted beside him. “Can I help with the burial?” She clambered to her paws.

“Yes, you can,” puffed Flamepelt, who was crouched down as Whiteberry and Lilywhisker hauled Brackenwing onto his back.

Tallpaw felt cold air where Palebird had been. He stood up, his wounds stinging, his legs stiff from the damp grass. Redclaw and Cloudrunner shooed him backward to make way for the elders as they carried Brackenwing out of the camp.

Heatherstar dipped her head as they passed. “May StarClan cherish her as we did,” she murmured.

The rogues kept back by the wall to the camp, looking mournful and somber. Only Sparrow's gaze glittered with something like curiosity as he watched the elders leave.

“Go and rest in your den.” Tallpaw heard Dawnstripe's whisper and turned around. His mentor was gazing at him gently. “You must be tired,” she murmured.

“Actually, I slept all night.” Tallpaw shifted his paws guiltily. Was he supposed to stay awake?

“Then let's train.” Dawnstripe whisked her tail. “The vigil is over. We might as well carry on as normal.” She headed for the entrance and Tallpaw followed, relieved that Dawnstripe hadn't tried to ask how he was feeling. Her briskness was as refreshing as the wind.

They passed Sparrow and Sandgorse. The toms were talking with their heads close together, and Sandgorse's eyes flashed with excitement. Tallpaw pricked his ears.

“You say Heatherstar's forbidden you from going down there?” Sparrow asked.

“Yes,” Sandgorse whispered.

Tallpaw halted and sat down, pretending to search for a flea in his tail. Why was Sparrow so interested in the gorge tunnel?

“What a waste,” murmured the rogue.

Sandgorse nodded. “All that paw-work for nothing.”

“You sound proud of the tunnel.”

“I know it better than I know my own pelt,” Sandgorse declared.

“Then surely
you
can go down there?” Sparrow reasoned. “You know which parts are safe and which might be dangerous.”

“Of course I do!” Sandgorse snorted. “I built every step of it with my own paws.”

Tallpaw straightened up. What was Sandgorse thinking? Were his tunnels the only thing he cared about? Sandgorse thought he was special just because he could dig!
Rabbits dig! They're not special.
Pelt pricking, Tallpaw ducked out of camp and raced after Dawnstripe. His thoughts whirled. Perhaps Heatherstar was right. The Clans needed warriors who could fight, not tunnels.

As they reached the training ground, the sun lifted over the forest and spilled light across the grass. Tallpaw was relieved to feel warmth washing his fur. “Dawnstripe?” he asked as she halted at the head of the grass clearing.

“What?” She looked around.

“Do we really need tunnelers?”

Dawnstripe hesitated. “It's part of our tradition,” she told him at last. “There's a lot of skill and courage involved. Skills that only WindClan possesses.”

“So it makes us special?” Tallpaw pressed.

“Yes.”

“But what use is it?” Tallpaw meowed bluntly. “What's the point of digging underground when battles are fought up here?” He gestured to the endless moor with his tail.

Dawnstripe's ear twitched. “Let Heatherstar worry about whether WindClan needs tunnelers or not. We're here to train.” Tallpaw felt a prick of frustration. She hadn't answered his question. “Just one lap!” Dawnstripe flicked her tail and Tallpaw hared away across the grass. “You'll be stiff after the battle, so take it easy,” she called after him.

She was right. Tallpaw tensed as pain flashed through him. But he wasn't going to take it easy. When he was running he couldn't think about anything else, and that felt good. He charged along the grass, brushing close to the heather, making as wide a circuit as he could. As he rounded the far end, he saw a creamy brown pelt slide out from the heather to stand beside Dawnstripe.
Algernon.
Tallpaw sped up, wondering why Algernon had come to the training area.

“Is everything okay in the camp?” He skidded to a halt a tail-length from Dawnstripe and Algernon.

“Of course. I just came to see what you were doing,” Algernon rumbled. “I hope you don't mind.”

Tallpaw shrugged. “Of course not.” He peered past the rogue. Was Reena coming, too? “Where are the others?”

“Reena and Bess joined the hunting patrol,” Algernon told him. “Mole wanted to hunt alone.”

“What about Sparrow?”

“He went off with Sandgorse,” Algernon meowed. “They were talking about some tunnel that leads down to the river.”

Poor Sparrow
. Tallpaw felt a flash of sympathy. Once Sandgorse got him down a tunnel, he'd talk his ears off about tunnel skills and all the rules about not leaving your tunnelmate and how to hear rabbits on the far side of the moor. He looked at Dawnstripe. “Can we practice battle moves today? In case ShadowClan attacks again.”

“Yes,” Dawnstripe meowed grimly. “I just hope you won't need them.”

 

By the end of the session, Tallpaw felt much better. He was going to be the best moor runner WindClan had ever seen! While Sandgorse was grubbing around in muddy holes,
he
would be defending his Clan.
I'll avenge Brackenwing's death.
He curled his claws and imagined throwing the body of a ShadowClan warrior in front of his Clan. They'd have to forgive him then.

“Can we hunt?” he growled. He wanted to feel flesh beneath his claws. “The prey heap is empty.”

Dawnstripe was deep in conversation with Algernon. He'd watched the practice session and now he leaned back on the grass, basking in the sun. “You've
lived
with Twolegs?” Dawnstripe leaned closer to the rogue. “What was it like?”

“Twolegs are funny creatures,” Algernon told her.

“Dawnstripe!” Tallpaw interrupted. “Can we hunt?”

“You go.” Dawnstripe flicked her tail. “We'll catch up.” Tallpaw shrugged and headed downslope. “No one's hunted the burrows by the gorge in a while!” Dawnstripe called after him. “There should be plenty of prey there.”

“Okay!” Tallpaw called over his shoulder as he pushed through the heather. “I'll see you there.” He followed a stale rabbit track and emerged from the heather at the top of a rise. The land sloped away past a swath of gorse before flattening out to meet the edge of the gorge. Tallpaw could just make out the dimples where rabbit burrows had been dug close to the surface. Tallpaw pounded toward them. The ground thrummed beneath his paws, solid, then hollow, then solid again.

Tunnels.
Tallpaw snorted.
Stupid tunnels.

He pulled up as he neared the gorge, stepping lightly so he didn't frighten any rabbits that might be grazing near the burrows. He must be on top of the gorge tunnel by now. Was Sandgorse down there, boring the ears off poor Sparrow? He paused, feeling the ground tremble beneath his paws. Were they digging? He crouched and pressed his belly to the grass, feeling for the tremors.

The fur rose on his spine. He could feel rumbling deep in the earth. It stirred memories of the flood. Was a tunnel collapsing?

Fear flaring, Tallpaw raced for the burrows. He might be able to hear what was happening through one of the openings. Surely Sandgorse wouldn't take Sparrow anywhere dangerous? He was too experienced to lead an untrained cat into an unstable tunnel. Tallpaw slowed to a halt, jerking around, glancing from burrow to burrow. Poking his head into one, he heard the earth roar. He stiffened as the ground shook beneath his paws. Terror uncoiled in his belly.

Then claws scrabbled behind him. Tallpaw whirled around as a mud-drenched cat burst out from a rabbit hole. “Sparrow!” He recognized the rogue's eyes through his filthy pelt. Tallpaw glanced past him, expecting Sandgorse to race out behind. But he only heard the growl of earth folding in on itself, crushing air and light and everything else inside. . . .

“Where's Sandgorse?” Tallpaw stared at Sparrow. “Wasn't he with you?”

Sparrow glanced back down the hole, flanks heaving. “I lost him.”

“You lost him?” Tallpaw blinked.
“You left him behind?”

“Too much water,” Sparrow panted. “And mud.”

“You can't leave a cat underground!”

There was a flash of movement on the horizon. Dawnstripe and Algernon were heading toward them.

“Sparrow!” Algernon's pelt spiked. “You're soaked! Are you okay?”