Tallstar's Revenge (42 page)

Heatherstar blinked slowly. Branches rustled behind her. Grunting with effort, Hareflight emerged, dragging the hawk carcass through. Redclaw followed, a taloned foot in his teeth as he helped Hareflight heave the bird into camp.

Whiteberry padded around the body as they laid it on a tussock. “You caught this by yourself?”

“I surprised it,” Talltail confessed. “The hawk thought it was the hunter, not the hunted. It was easy to knock it out of the sky.”

Whiteberry sniffed its bloody neck. “You must have been quick to kill it before it escaped. These wings could crack a warrior's spine.”

Talltail hadn't thought about the danger, only saving the kits. He swallowed, relieved that StarClan had been kind to him. Was it a sign that he was welcome home? He glanced at Heatherstar.

She flicked her tail toward the entrance. “Walk with me, Talltail.” She turned, pausing beside Reedfeather. “Organize the dusk patrol while we're gone, please.”

Heatherstar didn't speak as she led the way upslope. She weaved through the bushes, following an old rabbit trail. Talltail trotted after her, relishing the feel of familiar stems brushing his pelt, his tongue steeped in scents he'd known since he was a kit. As he emerged onto the moor-top, the wind buffeted his face. It promised rain. He opened his mouth and tasted the distant tang of Highstones. Gray clouds dragged along their peaks, hiding the mountains beyond. Heatherstar kept moving, head high, pelt smooth.
She's heading for Outlook Rock.

The familiar crop of stones jutted from the moor, pale gray against the dark gray sky. Talltail padded onto the ledge and felt the smooth stone underneath his paws. He'd spent so many moments here, dreaming of traveling farther than he could see. Now he'd been beyond the horizon that had once made him feel trapped and suffocated. And still he'd come back.

Heatherstar sat at the edge of the rock and stared across the valley. “Are you glad to be home?”

Talltail stopped a muzzle-length behind her. He opened his mouth and let the wind wash his tongue. He'd traveled far, far away, where every paw step was strange and new. Now he was walking on WindClan land once more. His kin had walked this moor since the dawn of the Clans. Sandgorse and countless others had tunneled beneath it. This was home. He belonged here. His Clan needed him. Even if they didn't know it,
he
knew it, as surely as he knew that daylight would bathe the Highstones every sunrise.

“Yes, I'm glad to be back,” he murmured.

“Good.” She kept her eyes on the distant peaks. “You always loved it here.”

“I did.” Talltail had never felt more free than when he was sitting on the rock, the sky high above, the land far below.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Heatherstar's question sounded casual, but Talltail guessed from the stiffness in her shoulders that she knew exactly what she was asking.

“No.”

“So Sparrow is alive.”

Talltail swallowed. “Yes.”

“Couldn't you find him?” Heatherstar's mew was soft.

“I found him,” Talltail replied. “But he told me that Sandgorse had given his life to save him in the tunnels. I couldn't kill him then. Sandgorse would have died for nothing.”

“So you didn't need to leave the Clan after all?” Heatherstar probed.

“That's not true,” Talltail growled. “I didn't leave just for revenge. I didn't feel like I belonged here.”

“Sometimes we have to leave to find out where our heart truly lies,” Heatherstar whispered.

Talltail's pelt pricked. Heatherstar had said the same thing when he'd left.
Does she know something she's not telling me?
Right now, he didn't care. She understood that he had needed to leave, and that was what mattered. Relief swamped him. “I learned a lot,” he told her. “Friendship and kinship matter more than adventure. Boundaries only exist in our minds. A heart can travel to the horizon without moving a paw step. And I made the best friend any cat ever had.”

Heatherstar glanced over her shoulder. “But your loyalty is with the Clan now, right?”

Talltail's pelt pricked with irritation. “I came back, didn't I?”

“For good?”

Talltail winced. She was right to question his loyalty. “Yes,” he meowed.

Heatherstar turned her muzzle toward the horizon once more. “I always knew you would leave.”

Talltail stiffened. “What do you mean?” He padded forward and stopped at her side.

“When I received my nine lives, Mothflight warned me a warrior would leave my Clan.” A purr edged Heatherstar's mew. “I was headstrong then. I told Mothflight that no warrior of mine would dare abandon his Clan.” She dipped her head. “But Mothflight was right. Sometimes a cat needs to go a long way to find that his true home is right where he started.”

Talltail's ear twitched. “How did you know that cat was me?”

“You were restless even as a kit. You were a tunneler's kit who hated tunnels, and a moor runner who couldn't grasp the importance of boundaries. I let you go, as Mothflight had told me I should, so that you'd come to understand that it's not boundaries that tie us down. We are held by much deeper bonds.”

Grief stabbed Talltail's chest.
Jake.
That was the deepest bond he'd ever known, and yet Talltail had left him to return to his Clan. He shifted his paws. “This friend that I made, he's the one who told me to come back.”

Heatherstar nodded. “He sounds like a wise cat,” she murmured. “He knows you better than you know yourself.”

Talltail turned away, his heart aching.

Heatherstar called to him as he padded from the rock. “You'll still have to earn the trust of your Clanmates.”

Talltail hesitated. “I know.”

“You must prove that you're willing to lay down your life for any of them,” Heatherstar meowed. “Even Shrewclaw.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I'll try,” Talltail promised. As he headed onto the grass, relishing its softness beneath his pads, Heatherstar called after him.

“I'm glad you came back.”

The claws that had been sunk for so long into Talltail's belly seemed to give one final squeeze before letting go. “So am I,” he answered.

C
HAPTER
41

Steadily falling water turned the hills
gray. It had rained every day since Talltail had returned, and the familiar trails ran like streams through the heather. Out in the open, sand washed around Talltail's paws as he trekked toward the gorge.

Reedfeather trudged beside him. “A hard frost now would burn away the youngest heather,” he commented as they skirted a swathe of dripping bushes, their roots exposed where rain had washed away the soil.

Talltail glanced at the heavy sky. “There won't be frost for a while.”

Reedfeather shook out his pelt. “I prefer snow,” he grumbled. “It stays out of my fur.” The WindClan deputy was limping. A sprain in his shoulder that he'd suffered half a moon earlier was refusing to heal.

Talltail noticed him wince with every step. “Do you want to find shelter and rest?” he offered. “I can hunt alone.”

“I can still hunt for my Clan.” Reedfeather shot him a look. “Even on three legs.”

“You're not on three legs yet.” Talltail eyed the stretch of grass ahead. A thrush, impervious to the rain, was pecking for worms. “See that?” He nodded toward the bird.

Reedfeather paused. “Your eyesight's as good as ever.”

“Go around and come up behind it,” Talltail whispered. “Send it toward me. I'll do the rest.”

Reedfeather hesitated.

“Hurry,” Talltail urged. “I can't catch it alone.”

Reedfeather headed away, keeping low, rain dripping from his whiskers as he veered wide around the thrush. Talltail waited. The bird had gripped a worm in its beak and was tugging it determinedly from the ground. As Reedfeather closed in, Talltail stalked forward. He kept one eye on the deputy. The old warrior would know when to make his move.

Talltail's paw steps were hidden by the thrumming rain. The thrush only realized what was happening when Reedfeather darted at it. With a shriek, it fluttered away from the WindClan deputy. Talltail sprang as it flew toward him. Stretching up his forepaws, he knocked the bird from the sky. It dropped to the ground, dazed, and he nipped its spine.

Reedfeather hobbled to meet him. “That's a useful technique,” he grunted. “Even an elder could make a catch like that.”

“Or a kittypet.” Talltail fought to keep the wistfulness from his mew as he remembered Jake's startled face when he caught his first mouse.

The rain was easing by the time they reached camp. Reedfeather led the way through the heather, nodding to Talltail before he carried their catch to the prey heap. Talltail scanned the camp. Water dripped into a puddle in the apprentices' den. With no apprentices, the gorse had not been patched and the nests were wilting and soggy. Meadowslip was resting outside the nursery, Palebird sitting beside her. Lilywhisker was dragging old bedding from the elders' den. Heatherstar sheltered below Tallrock with Aspenfall and Doespring. On the Hunting Stones, Wrenkit, Flykit, Bristlekit, and Rabbitkit were bickering about who got to sit on the highest rock.

“It's my turn!” Rabbitkit sounded indignant.

“You sat there last time,” Wrenkit argued.

“I
never
get to sit on the highest one,” Bristlekit complained.

Talltail headed away before they spotted him and begged him to decide. As he padded toward the long grass, hoping to find enough shelter to wash some of the rain from his fur, Hopkit scrambled out of the nursery. One moon from becoming an apprentice, he looked too big for the old gorse den. Perhaps it was time to start clearing the old nests from the apprentice den and repairing the roof.

“Talltail!” Hopkit raced around the edge of the Meeting Hollow. He ran nimbly, compensating so well with his three strong legs that sometimes Talltail forgot about his useless, twisted forepaw. “Will you help me practice my attack crouch like you promised?” Worried that he wouldn't be given a mentor because his paw made the moves more difficult, Hopkit wanted to learn everything before he left the nursery.

Talltail glanced at the sky. The clouds were beginning to tear apart, showing patches of blue. It was the first sign of good weather in days. “Okay.”

The black kit flicked his tail excitedly.

“Let's use the Meeting Hollow.” Talltail jumped into the dip, feeling the wet earth slide beneath his paws. Days of rain had washed the hollow clean, and stones hidden for moons beneath the soil flashed and sparkled on the surface as the sun peeked through a gap in the clouds.

Hopkit scrambled down and crouched into an attack stance, his flanks quivering as he tried to balance.

“Spread your hind legs farther apart,” Talltail advised him. “It'll give more power to your leap.” He pressed Hopkit's shoulders lower with his muzzle. “Keep your chin close to the ground. That way you'll be ready to duck under your enemy if he leaps first. And remember to use your
hind
legs to push you forward.” He padded around the young tom, stooping to inspect his twisted paw. “Your forepaws are for balance, remember?”

Hopkit was leaning to one side where his twisted paw couldn't quite hold his weight steadily. The young tom snorted and sat up. “I knew it.” He stared angrily at his odd paw.

“Don't worry,” Talltail soothed. “Your forepaws need to match each other. You'll only fall off balance if one is stronger than the other.”

Hopkit frowned. “But one
is
stronger than the other.”

Talltail shrugged. “Then use the stronger one more lightly.”

Hopkit brightened. “Okay.” He crouched again, adjusting his paws one at a time until he was steady as a rock.

“Perfect.” Talltail was impressed. It was impossible to see the weakness in Hopkit's twisted paw. “Now try leaping. Don't forget: Keep your ears flat. And your eyes must be narrowed. In battle there'll be claws flying at you from all directions.”

Hopkit screwed his eyes to slits and drew his ears close to his head. His haunches quivered for a moment; then he sprang forward. He darted neatly through the air, perfectly balanced.

“Very good!” Talltail praised him as he landed.

“Ow!” Hopkit stumbled, then drew himself up sharply, holding his forepaw high.

“What's happened?” Talltail rushed to his side. “Did you land badly?” Talltail saw beads of scarlet liquid dripping onto the earth. The strong tang of blood bathed his tongue.

“I landed on a s-stone,” Hopkit whimpered.

Talltail saw a sharp edge of flint sticking up from the ground where the rain had washed away the soil. “Quick, let's get you to the medicine den.”

Blood was welling fast on Hopkit's pad, soaking the fur around his claws. Talltail didn't dare look to see how deeply the flint had torn the young tom's flesh. He grabbed Hopkit's scruff between his teeth and hauled him up out of the hollow, ignoring his yowls of protest as he hurried to the medicine den. “Stop struggling, for StarClan's sake,” he growled through his teeth. He let go at the entrance and nosed Hopkit into the gorse cave.

Barkface looked up from a pile of herbs. “I smell blood.” He trotted over and sniffed Hopkit's paw.

“Is it bad?” Talltail asked.

“It's deep.” Barkface darted back across the den and reached through a gap in the branches, hauling out a wad of cobweb and a pawful of leaves. “But I'll soon get him fixed up.”

“Good.” Hopkit held out his paw. “I want to get back to my training. I'd just worked out a really good attack crouch.”

“No more training for you until this has healed.” Barkface began to fill the wound with herbs. “How did it happen?”

“There are sharp stones in the Meeting Hollow.” Talltail glanced through the den entrance and caught sight of Shrewclaw. He ducked outside. “Shrewclaw!”

The warrior was padding toward the long grass with Ryestalk at his side. He stopped when Talltail called out. “What?”

“There are stones sticking up all across the Meeting Hollow.” Talltail nodded toward the dip.

Shrewclaw followed his gaze. “How did they get there?”

“The rain's washed the soil away,” Talltail explained. “Hopkit just cut himself on one.”

Ryestalk frowned. “That's dangerous.”

Talltail nodded to Shrewclaw. “Can you organize a patrol to dig them out?”

Shrewclaw narrowed his eyes. “Why don't you do it?”

“I want to keep an eye on Hopkit.”

Ryestalk nudged Shrewclaw. “Come on. Talltail's right. We need to clear the hollow before another cat gets hurt.” She hurried across the tussocks to where Stagleap and Appledawn were sharing prey in the shelter of the heather wall.

Shrewclaw padded after her. “We should ask Hickorynose and Mistmouse to help,” he muttered. “They're used to digging.”

As Talltail turned back to the medicine den, the ground trembled. Paws were thrumming beyond the camp wall. The heather shivered as Plumclaw burst into the camp. Woollytail, Larksplash, and Cloudrunner thundered after her, skidding to a halt on the wet grass.

“ShadowClan!” Plumclaw gasped. Her flanks were heaving.

Heatherstar raced around the rim of the Hollow and stopped beside Talltail. “What's happened?”

Reedfeather limped from the long grass, pelt bristling. “Have they crossed the border?”

“As good as,” Cloudrunner growled. “They've left scent marks on the brambles at Fourtrees.”

Heatherstar's gaze sharpened. “What's wrong with that?”

Woollytail lifted his chin. “They've
drenched
it in scent markers, right on the boundary.”

“It's deliberate provocation,” Larksplash added.

Heatherstar narrowed her eyes. “But they haven't crossed the border.”

“They didn't need to,” Plumclaw snarled. “Their scent's done it for them. Our land smells like ShadowClan territory.”

Shrewclaw's pelt spiked. “We should send a patrol to scent
their
borders!”

Ryestalk twitched her tail. “I'll go!”

“No.” Heatherstar stared at her warriors. “No one will cross the border,” she ordered. “They're just trying to provoke us. We won't fall for their tricks.”

“It's no trick.” Cloudrunner lashed his tail. “It's a warning. We need to show them we're not afraid.”

“We can do that by carrying on as normal,” Heatherstar told him. “Same patrols, same scent markers. Let them waste their scent stinking up the border. So long as they don't cross it, we won't react.”

Talltail glanced at her uneasily. ShadowClan warriors didn't make empty threats. His paws pricked with worry. They'd crossed the border before. Last time, they'd attacked the camp. What would stop them this time? But Talltail hadn't been back long enough to question his leader's wisdom. Besides, she might be right. Why rush into a battle that didn't need to happen?

He turned and headed for the medicine den. “Hopkit?” He peered in.

Hopkit blinked from the shadows. “What's happening?” His tail flicked restlessly as Barkface wound cobweb around his paw.

“Sit still,” Barkface ordered.

Hopkit growled. “But I heard Plumclaw say ShadowClan had crossed the border!”

“They've left scents on the brambles by Fourtrees,” Talltail told him.

“Is Heatherstar organizing a battle patrol?” Hopkit shuffled his hind paws beneath him.

“I said keep still!” Barkface grunted, frowning as he wound the web tighter.

Talltail nosed his way in. “No patrol. Not yet.”

Hopkit's shoulders slumped. “I wish I were an apprentice,” he grumbled. “I'd teach ShadowClan to keep away from our borders!”

Barkface looked up at him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You won't have four paws to attack them with if you don't let me finish this dressing,” he warned.

Talltail nodded. “He's right, Hopkit. Hold still. Your Clanmates need you fit and ready to fight.” He caught Barkface's eye and held back a purr.