Tallstar's Revenge (24 page)

On the high-moor, a cold wind sliced through Tallpaw's pelt. He shivered as he watched the sun slide down the sky far enough to touch Highstones, setting their peaks ablaze.

“Come on.” Hareflight pointed with his tail to the moon, already showing in the pale evening sky. With full moon only a few sunrises away, it was almost round and dazzlingly clear. Once the sun had set it would be brilliant in the night-dark sky. “We have to hurry.” The brown warrior charged over the crest of the moor and bounded down the steep slope toward the Thunderpath.

Tallpaw chased after him, his paws skimming the grass. As he broke through the scent line at the bottom of the slope, a thrill surged beneath his pelt. He was outside Clan territory! He scrambled to a halt before he crashed into the others. Dawnstripe had stopped while Hareflight and Shrewpaw padded warily toward the trail of black stone cutting across their path.

A monster hurtled past, then another, both bellowing loud enough to rattle Tallpaw's ear fur. Two more crossed behind them, traveling the other way. Suddenly the eyes of one lit up, throwing beams along its path.

“They'd be no use at night hunting,” Tallpaw growled as another monster sent yellow rays shooting from its eyes. “Prey would see them coming a whole territory away.” Creeping after Hareflight, he narrowed his eyes against the blinding lights. The acrid scent of the Thunderpath burned his throat and his ears ached from the monsters' roars.

Dawnstripe caught up to him. “We have to wait for a gap.” She nodded toward a narrow, grass-filled ditch running alongside the Thunderpath. Hareflight and Shrewpaw were already scrambling into it. Dawnstripe followed. Tallpaw jumped down beside her, flinching as a monster sent grit showering over his pelt. He pressed his belly to the ground and shuddered as filthy water soaked his fur and monster stench rolled over him.

Eyes stinging, he stared at Dawnstripe. “Now what?”

“I'll tell you when to run,” she promised.

Shrewpaw stretched up the far side of the ditch and peered over the edge. “Can I go yet?” He glanced back at Hareflight.

“Not till I say.” Hareflight reared up beside him to look out.

“But there's a gap before the next monster!” Shrewpaw insisted. “I can make it.”

“Look both ways—”

Before Hareflight could finish his warning, Shrewpaw leaped up onto the Thunderpath and began to race across.

“Not yet!” With a yowl of horror, Hareflight pelted after him.

Tallpaw's pelt bristled. On the far side of the path, a monster was hurtling toward the young tom. Shrewpaw stopped and stared as its eye beams lit him up like a blaze of fire. Eyes stretching in terror, he gaped at the monster. Brown fur blurred as Hareflight hurled himself at Shrewpaw. They tumbled away together as the monster raced past, wailing.

“Did they make it?” Tallpaw whispered.

Dawnstripe was peering over the edge of the path. Her whole body was stiff, her pelt spiked up along her spine.

“Did they make it?”
Tallpaw demanded. He scrambled up to look for himself.

Ears showed in the grass on the far side of the Thunderpath. Two pairs of eyes flashed. Hareflight and Shrewpaw were staring back at them across the stone.

“They made it,” Dawnstripe breathed, slumping down with relief.

Tallpaw's heart pounded. “It's our turn.” He swallowed hard.

“Don't go till I say,” warned Dawnstripe.

Tallpaw didn't intend to. Standing on Outlook Rock, he'd seen birds peeling fresh-kill from the Thunderpath. He wasn't going to be crow-food before he'd seen the world beyond Clan territory.

Dawnstripe's head twitched as she watched the monsters flash past. Then she grew still, her gaze fixed farther down the path. She checked the other way. “Ready?” she hissed.

Tallpaw tensed. “Ready.”

A monster sped past one way, then the other.

“Now!” Dawnstripe leaped from the ditch. Tallpaw scrambled after her. “Just run!” Dawnstripe yowled, pelting across the hard, black path.

Tallpaw's pads stung as he pushed against the stone. It was sharp with grit and grazed his paws, but he kept running, his gaze fixed on the verge ahead. He dived onto the grass, blood roaring in his ears, and skidded to a halt. “Dawnstripe?”

He glanced back, relieved to see her panting, a muzzle-length behind. Hareflight padded up to meet her. “I'll never get used to it,” he growled.

“It'll be quieter on the way back,” Dawnstripe panted. “The monsters sleep at night.”

Tallpaw tasted the air. The strange scents reminded him of Bess and Reena and how they'd smelled when they first arrived—like stale food and smoke. But he could also smell prey. He ducked beneath a long row of bushes and pricked his ears, listening for the scurrying of tiny claws.

“Tallpaw!” Dawnstripe poked her head in beside him. “Not this way.”

Disappointed, he trotted after her as she led the way along the line of bushes, turning as the path led them upslope. They trekked through meadows of long, wet grass that soaked Tallpaw's belly fur and chilled his paws until they were numb. The land sloped up, then down, until Tallpaw's legs ached with walking.

The stars were shining in a peat-black sky by the time the lush fields gave way to stubby grass. The land steepened and the grass turned to stones beneath their paws. Hareflight shook out his fur. Dawnstripe paused and gazed across the rocky soil. Tatty heather dotted the slope, clinging to the stony ground with spindly roots.

Tallpaw looked up. Highstones rose above them, so tall they blocked the mountains behind. Moonlight washed the rocks like water. He could hear Shrewpaw panting and glanced over his shoulder. The young tom's eyes were clouded with exhaustion, his shoulders drooping. For a moment, Tallpaw felt a flash of sympathy for his denmate. “We're nearly there,” he mewed.

Dawnstripe lifted her golden muzzle and stared up the slope. Higher up the slope, a hole yawned, square and black. “Mothermouth,” Dawnstripe whispered.

Tallpaw scrambled toward the hole, forgetting his tiredness as excitement pulsed in his paws. Stones cracked behind him as Hareflight, Dawnstripe, and Shrewpaw followed. Tallpaw looked over his shoulder at the valley that stretched back toward the moor. They'd come so far! WindClan territory seemed suddenly small, dwarfed by the wide, star-specked sky.

Are you there, Sandgorse?
Tallpaw tipped back his head and stared into the sky, searching Silverpelt for a star that outshone the rest.
Can you see me?

“Come on, Tallpaw.” Dawnstripe's hushed mew sounded above him. She'd climbed past him onto a smooth ledge, her moonlit fur bright against the gaping hole behind. She was sitting on the threshold of Mothermouth. Hareflight and Shrewpaw sprang up beside her. Nose twitching, Tallpaw scrambled up the last tail-length.

The ledge was smooth and icy cold beneath his paws. Wet stone scent rolled from the freezing darkness.
So this is Mothermouth!
Tallpaw padded from moonlight into shadow, his heart pounding as the greatest tunnel of all swallowed him whole.

C
HAPTER
22

“Let me lead.” Dawnstripe's mew was
barely a whisper as she padded past him through the darkness.

Tallpaw was happy to fall in behind her, staying close enough to feel her tail-tip brush his cheek. He could feel Shrewpaw's breath warm on his rump, and Hareflight's solid paw steps sounded reassuringly from the rear. Tallpaw's heart fluttered like a caught sparrow. This tunnel was far bigger than the tunnel he'd walked with Sandgorse, but it was still a tunnel, still a long way from light and space and air. Tallpaw felt the immense darkness pressing around him. His throat tightened until the air seemed too thick to breathe.

You're following in the paw steps of countless cats. StarClan will keep you safe.

Dawnstripe's tail slid ahead; Tallpaw sped up, frightened of losing the feel of its soft tip on his nose. Cold air swirled around him, piercing his pelt. He sensed the huge weight of rock hanging above his head. Ahead, the distant echo of dripping water hinted at deepness he was frightened to imagine. How long till they reached the Moonstone? Steadying his breath, he focused on his paws, trying to relish the solidity of the stone beneath them, constantly stretching his muzzle to keep contact with Dawnstripe's tail.

“I smell fear-scent. Aren't you feeling at home, Wormpaw?” Shrewpaw snarked.

“Be quiet, Shrewpaw!” Hareflight's angry hiss sounded from behind.

Tallpaw's mind swirled. He fought back panic. Every paw step was taking him farther from the light. Could he find his way out if the others weren't here? A stream of cold air suddenly buffeted his flank. Another billowed from the other side. There must be more tunnels branching off this one, snaking deep into the earth.

Please let me out!
As a terrified groan welled in his throat, the air around him changed. It became still, the vicious chill easing. Tallpaw halted as Dawnstripe's paw steps fell silent.

“We're here,” she announced softly. “In the cavern of the Moonstone.”

Shrewpaw pushed past Tallpaw, rocking him on his paws. “Where is it? Where's the stone?”

“There must be a cloud covering the moon.” Hareflight's deep mew sounded close to Tallpaw's ear. “Just wait.”

Tallpaw strained to see through the darkness. His nose twitched as he smelled the familiar scent of heather. Fresh air must be flowing into the cavern from somewhere above them. Suddenly a beam of silver light sliced down through the dark. Tallpaw blinked as it cast a glow over a huge stone in the middle of the cavern.
The Moonstone!

The surface of the rock glittered like sunshine on water, sending light rippling across the dark walls. Tallpaw backed away, bristling.

“Don't be afraid.” Dawnstripe stepped forward and crouched beside the stone, the silver light drenching her pale golden fur. “Come and touch your nose to it. You too, Shrewpaw.”

Shrewpaw was circling the stone, his tail spiking. “Do we have to touch it?”

Hareflight stooped beside Dawnstripe. “You won't share with StarClan until you do.”

Shrewpaw padded warily toward the Moonstone and, hunkering down, stretched his muzzle forward. Tallpaw watched his denmate's eyes close. Shrewpaw's ruffled fur smoothed out, and his whole body softened as if he had drifted into the best sleep ever.

“Come on, Tallpaw.” Dawnstripe coaxed him forward. “StarClan will welcome you.”

Tallpaw padded closer. His heart seemed to swell in his chest.
Will I see Sandgorse?
Or Brackenwing?
Hunching beside the rock, he narrowed his eyes against its glare. He took a deep breath and touched his nose to the sharp stone.

At once he was plunged into darkness, sucked down by currents too strong to resist. But somehow there was nothing to be frightened of, and Tallpaw let himself fall until his vision cleared. He felt his paws sink into muddy earth; rain lashed his pelt and battered his ears. Tallpaw peered through the storm. Was this StarClan? A churned field stretched away on one side, while a hedge pressed at his other, rattling as a cold wind shook it.

Tallpaw saw several solid-looking shapes ahead, ears and tails silhouetted in the rain.
The rogues!
He recognized their dripping pelts as they trudged beside the hedge, trying to find some shelter from the storm. One by one, they clambered over the snaking roots of a lightning-blasted tree. Tallpaw crept after them, ducking under the low branches as though he was stalking prey. He halted beside the charred tree and watched them disappear along the trail.

This isn't StarClan! This is just a dumb dream!
Frustration flared inside him.
Where's Sandgorse?
Curling his claws into the wet earth, he screwed his eyes shut and tried to sleep once more.

Darkness engulfed him and he was swirling through emptiness again. More shapes flashed on the edge of his vision: a Twolegplace, a dense forest, a chattering river sparkling in sunlight. Tallpaw blinked open his eyes, desperate to find himself in StarClan's territory.

The Moonstone gleamed at the end of his nose. He was back in the cavern. Where was StarClan? Fear wormed in Tallpaw's belly. They hadn't shared anything with him! He backed away from the Moonstone, noticing that Shrewpaw was still resting peacefully by the stone.

Were the ancestors ignoring him because of Brackenwing? Or was StarClan angry because he hadn't been able to follow in his father's paw steps?
Tallpaw's heart twisted.
I tried!

Dawnstripe blinked open her eyes and stretched. She met Tallpaw's gaze. “Did you dream?”

Before he could answer, Shrewpaw jumped up. “Wow! I saw the star and some old cat called Dais—”

“Hush.” Hareflight stirred beside him, his mew thick with sleep. “You don't share your StarClan dreams with any cat.”

Dawnstripe nodded. “You keep the secrets they share with you in your heart.”

“Unless you're a medicine cat and StarClan speaks to your Clan through you.” Hareflight stretched, arching his spine and quivering.

Dawnstripe padded toward the cavern entrance. “Let's get back to the Clan.” Shrewpaw bounded past her. “I'll lead!” Dawnstripe called. “I don't want you getting lost.”

Hareflight and Shrewpaw fell in behind her and Tallpaw followed last, glancing over his shoulder at the Moonstone as he headed out of the cavern. The huge rock glittered frostily in the moonlight. A pang tugged at Tallpaw's belly.
StarClan, why didn't you share with me?
Cold air washed his pelt as he stepped into the darkness, trailing a little behind his Clanmates. Numbness set into his paws, and Tallpaw had to force himself to keep plodding upward, following the scent and sound of his Clanmates as they led him out of the hill.

Hareflight and Shrewpaw were already scrambling down the rocky slope when Tallpaw emerged into moonlight.

“I thought we'd lost you,” Dawnstripe murmured. She waited for Tallpaw to jump down from the ledge, and fell in beside him. Tallpaw walked in silence. As they reached the meadows, he hardly felt the wet grass drag along his flanks. All he felt was tiredness, growing heavier with each paw step.

The sky was turning pale beyond the moor-top as they neared the WindClan border. The Thunderpath was quiet and they crossed it easily, just as Dawnstripe had promised.

Dawnstripe peered closely at Tallpaw as the ground began to slope up toward the moor. “Are you okay?” she prompted.

“I'm fine.” Tallpaw padded past her without meeting her gaze. “Just tired.” He glanced up the slope to the top of the moor, then back toward Highstones. They seemed to catch fire as the rising sun turned them red, then yellow, paler and paler against the lightening sky. The jagged peaks loomed over the valley, piercing the clouds. To Tallpaw, the moor hardly seemed big enough to contain WindClan, hemmed by forest, crushed by the sky, cut off short by the river in the gorge.

But this is home!
Breaking into a run, he bounded past his Clanmates and raced down the hillside toward camp. The Clan was already stirring. Lilywhisker and Whiteberry yawned at the entrance to their den. The Meeting Hollow looked as crowded as a burrow full of rabbits as the Clan gathered around Reedfeather, waiting for his orders for the day's patrols.

“Tallpaw!” Hopkit scrambled across the tussocks, stumbling each time his twisted paw buckled underneath him. “Did you see the Moonstone?”

“Yes.” Tallpaw nuzzled his head. The kit's wide, friendly gaze seemed to banish the darkness of Mothermouth.

Sorrelkit raced after her brother, her gray-and-brown fur spiked with excitement. She stopped beside Tallpaw and began sniffing his pelt, her mouth open as she tasted the strange scents he'd brought back. She glanced over her shoulder at Pigeonkit. “He smells funny.”

Pigeonkit pushed past her and inspected Tallpaw closely. “Your fur's all wet.”

“We've been trekking through long grass,” Tallpaw explained.

“What did you see?” Sorrelkit flicked her short tail.

“The Moonstone.”

Sorrelkit widened her eyes. “Was it big?”

“Bigger than Tallrock, and it shone like the stars.”

“Did you touch it?” Hopkit leaned back, his fluffy ears pricked.

“You'll have to wait till it's your turn to visit it.” Tallpaw was too tired to talk. “Isn't it time you had your first taste of mouse?”

Pigeonkit puffed out his chest. “I've already tasted it!”

“So have I!” Sorrelkit announced.

Tallpaw spotted a bird on the prey heap. “What about lapwing?” he asked.

“Meadowslip's worried we'll swallow the feathers,” Hopkit mewed.

“What if I pluck it for you?” Tallpaw offered.

Sorrelkit raced around him. “Will you?” she squeaked.

“Come on.” He headed toward the prey heap.

Pigeonkit and Sorrelkit streaked ahead. “Wait for me!” Hopkit was struggling to keep up, his crooked paw twisting beneath him.

Tallpaw turned back and tucked his nose under the black tom's belly. “Hang on!” he warned, flipping the kit onto his shoulders. Tallpaw purred as the young kit dug his tiny claws into his pelt, and carried him over to his littermates.

 

Bright sunshine turned the distant trees golden. Tallpaw took a step forward, bringing him right to the edge of Outlook Rock. Under the sweep of empty, blue sky, he could see sheep and Twolegs, dogs and monsters. He could even see a hare sitting in the middle of a distant meadow. The air around him was completely still, as though the world were holding its breath.

“A black-and-white dog is chasing sheep in the hill-meadow,” Tallpaw reported.

Dawnstripe shifted behind him. “And?”

“There are grouse beside the copse.” Tallpaw imagined padding beneath the distant trees, new scents bathing his tongue, the grouse within stalking distance. His mouth watered. “There's a fire in a Twolegplace.” The scent of smoke touched his nose and he glimpsed a plume rising from the top of a Twoleg nest. Feathers flashed in the sunshine and Tallpaw's gaze flicked toward a hawk as it dived out of the sky. He scanned the meadow where it swooped, trying to pick out its prey. His paws itched to be there. He could snatch the prey out of the bird's path. “Hawk hunting rabbit.”

“I'm impressed.” Dawnstripe got to her paws. “You haven't missed anything.” Her pads scuffed the rock. “Let's move on to your battle-skills assessment.”

Tallpaw turned from the edge of the rock, dragging his gaze from the distant fields. He followed Dawnstripe to the training ground, the trail so familiar now that he didn't even have to think about where to put his paws. His thoughts were still on the hawk. He'd traveled across the meadow it had hunted in. Now he was back inside WindClan's borders while it was crouching in a treetop, feasting on its catch. Yearning pricked beneath his pelt. What was it like to hunt only for yourself, to have the freedom to go wherever you wanted, without boundaries or codes pinning you down?