The First Battle Read online

  Contents

  Dedication

  Allegiances

  Maps

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Bonus Scene

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Excerpt from Warriors: Dawn of the Clans #4: The Blazing Star

  Chapter 1

  Back Ads

  About the Author

  Books by Erin Hunter

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Dedication

  With special thanks to Kate Cary

  For Josh, my son (Thanks for all the cups of tea)

  ALLEGIANCES

  CLEAR SKY’S CAMP

  LEADER CLEAR SKY—light gray tom with blue eyes

  FALLING FEATHER—young white she-cat

  MOON SHADOW—black tom

  LEAF—gray-and-white tom

  PETAL—small yellow tabby she-cat with green eyes

  QUICK WATER—gray-and-white she-cat

  FIRCONE—tortoiseshell tom

  NETTLE—gray tom

  KITS BIRCH—brown-and-white tom

  ALDER—gray-and-white she-kit

  TALL SHADOW’S CAMP

  LEADER TALL SHADOW—black, thick-furred she-cat with green eyes

  GRAY WING—sleek, dark gray tom with golden eyes

  JAGGED PEAK—small gray tabby tom with blue eyes

  DAPPLED PELT—delicate tortoiseshell she-cat with golden eyes

  RAINSWEPT FLOWER—brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

  SHATTERED ICE—gray-and-white tom with green eyes

  CLOUD SPOTS—long-furred black tom with white ears, white chest, and two white paws

  FROST—pure white tom with blue eyes

  JACKDAW’S CRY—young black tom with blue eyes

  HAWK SWOOP—orange tabby she-cat

  WIND RUNNER—wiry brown she-cat with yellow eyes

  GORSE FUR—thin, gray tabby tom

  TURTLE TAIL—tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes

  KITS LIGHTNING TAIL—black tom

  ACORN FUR—chestnut brown she-cat

  THUNDER—orange tom with amber eyes and big white paws

  OWL EYES—gray tom

  PEBBLE HEART—brown tabby tom with amber eyes

  SPARROW FUR—tortoiseshell she-kit

  ROGUE CATS

  THORN—she-cat with a short, thick gray coat and bright blue eyes

  DEW—mangy tom with splotchy fur

  RIVER RIPPLE—silver, long-furred tom

  MISTY—gray-and-white she-cat

  Maps

  PROLOGUE

  Water cascaded beyond the cave mouth. A gray tom watched it tumble past. It muffled the wind and softened the jagged peaks beyond, before disappearing far below into a rainbow of spray.

  Cats moved behind him, hardly more than shadows in the dappled light of their cavern. Longing misted the gray tom’s eyes. Twisting back his ears, he listened to their murmuring.

  “Stones in my nest!” An elder croaked irritably. “Always stones in my nest.”

  “I’ll pick them out.” Tiny paws skipped across the cave.

  “Come back, Jay Frost,” a queen called anxiously. “Your pads are too soft for sharp stones.”

  “They’ll need to toughen up sooner or later,” the elder muttered.

  The gray tom turned, his sleek pelt pricking.

  “Try it, Misty Water.” An old ginger tom was nosing a scrawny mouse toward a dull-pelted she-cat.

  Misty Water peered at the prey from her nest in the dimpled cavern floor. “Give it to a younger cat.” She nodded toward Jay Frost as he picked grit from the elder’s nest.

  “You must eat,” Lion’s Roar persisted.

  “It’s the last piece of prey,” the she-cat protested.

  “But the hunting party will be back soon. They may have found more,” a brown tom called from where he was sharing tongues with a white she-cat at the edge of the cavern.

  The gray cat pricked his ears happily. “Twisted Branch! Snow Hare!” He padded toward the two cats, rearing in surprise as four kits charged across his path.

  “No rough play!” Their mother hurried after them.

  Dewy Leaf. The gray tom blinked at the queen. You kitted safely! I’m so glad. A purr rumbled in his throat for a moment, then fell quiet. “If Moon Shadow had stayed to see his kits, he might still be alive now,” he murmured.

  “Gray Wing?”

  A cracked mew made him turn. An ancient she-cat was padding from the shadows at the back of the cave.

  “Stoneteller!” Gray Wing hurried toward her. “You can see me?”

  “Of course.” She stretched her muzzle to greet him. “We share the same dream.”

  He touched his nose to hers, surprised at how cold it was. He’d lived on the moor for so many moons now that he’d forgotten how the bone-chilling cold of the mountains never entirely loosened its grip.

  He glanced around the cave at his old tribe mates. “Can they see us?”

  “We can see out of the dream,” Stoneteller told him. “They can’t see in.”

  Gray Wing blinked. “Am I here, or dreaming in my nest on the moor?”

  “Both.” Amusement lit up Stoneteller’s eyes so that, for a moment, they looked as bright as a kit’s. “For now, all that matters is here.”

  Gray Wing stiffened as he saw the speckled pelt of a gray she-cat. “Quiet Rain.” His chest tightened as he recognized his mother curled in her sleeping hollow. Her soft eyes clouded as she followed the rippling light playing on the cave walls. “Is she okay?” he asked Stoneteller.

  “She’s fine,” Stoneteller assured him.

  “I wish I could tell her we survived the journey, that Clear Sky is well—Jagged Peak, too, despite his injury. She was so worried about us, setting out—even though she told us it was the right thing to do.”

  “I’ll let her know,” Stoneteller promised.

  Gray Wing hardly heard her. Jagged Peak and Clear Sky are well. It was only half true, and that knowledge brought sorrow that stabbed like an icicle at his heart. Should he confess that Jagged Peak was lame now, his hind leg crippled by a fall from a tree? I swore I’d protect him.

  And what about Clear Sky? Gray Wing’s littermate might be safe, but he was so changed that Quiet Rain would hardly recognize her firstborn son. They had found the prey-rich land they had hoped for, but the cats that had traveled through the mountains as one had split into two groups when they reached the warm fields and forests of their new home. Clear Sky had taken possession of the woods with a few of his old tribe mates. It pained Gray Wing to admit it, even to himself, but his brother had become brutal in guarding his share of the plentiful prey.

  Shame warmed Gray Wing’s pelt. I failed them—and my mother.

  He felt Stoneteller trying to catch his eye, but could not meet her gaze.

  “It’s not your fault, Gray Wing.” She swung her muzzle toward her skinny tribe mates. “Having little makes cats share.” She touched her nose to his shoulder softly. “Having much makes us greedy.”

  Gray Wing lifted his head sharply. Did she know what he was thinking? Clear Sky had
once been his closest friend. Now they faced each other like rivals.

  “I’ve lived long.” Stoneteller tipped her head. “I must warn you: greed is only the beginning.” Her eyes darkened. “There will be war.”

  Gray Wing swallowed. “With Clear Sky?”

  “Don’t be scared,” Stoneteller soothed.

  Gray Wing lifted his head. “I’m not scared!” But his heart quickened. How can I fight my own brother?

  “Remember the cats who love and trust you,” Stoneteller murmured. “You and Clear Sky may be divided, but you still have Jagged Peak.”

  Warmth filled Gray Wing’s chest as he remembered his younger brother’s courage and loyalty.

  “And Turtle Tail?” Stoneteller’s eyes rounded with curiosity. “How is she?”

  “She’s happy.” A loving purr choked Gray Wing’s mew.

  “You recognized the strength of her love at last.” Stoneteller’s eyes shone. “I’m glad.”

  Gray Wing shifted his paws. He could picture Turtle Tail now, sleeping beside him as he walked in his dreams. Pebble Heart, Owl Eyes, and Sparrow Fur would be curled at her belly, still kits but growing each day. Though they were the offspring of a kittypet, he loved them as his own and they loved him, as much as Turtle Tail loved him.

  A pang jabbed his heart. He missed them all, even though he knew that his pelt was touching theirs, far away on the moor. How? As his mind began to cloud with confusion, he tugged his thoughts back to the cave. For now, this is all that matters.

  He turned wistfully toward Stoneteller, but she was staring toward the waterfall, faint moonlight dappling her face.

  She closed her eyes. “Why have you come here?”

  Did I choose this dream? Unease flickered beneath Gray Wing’s pelt. Something had drawn him deep into memories. But what? Sudden guilt hollowed his belly. Since they had reached the moors, the tribe cats had seen so much death. Gray Wing stiffened as he instinctively thought of Fox, the rogue who had died at his own paws, killed accidentally as they’d fought over boundaries. “We brought death with us.”

  “You brought change,” Stoneteller soothed.

  “But must all change be born in blood?” I only ever intended for my friends to be safe.

  “We are all born in blood,” Stoneteller murmured. “But it marks the beginning, not the end.”

  The beginning? Was there more blood to come?

  Mist rolled through the cave entrance, swallowing the Tribe, enfolding Stoneteller until he could no longer see her.

  “Stoneteller!” The thick haze swamped his cry. “Don’t go!” Grief tightened his throat. He didn’t want to lose his old friends again.

  “I have faith in you, Gray Wing.” Stoneteller’s mew echoed through the shrouding haze. “Always.”

  Fog filled Gray Wing’s eyes and clogged his throat. He struggled for breath as it reached into his chest, dizziness muddling his thoughts until the darkness claimed him.

  CHAPTER 1

  Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. He could see Thunder’s bright ginger pelt threading through the ferns. His son was climbing the slope to the moor, leaving the forest with Frost.

  I suppose that’s what he must do. Clear Sky tried to ignore the regret gnawing in his belly. Above him, a soft breeze whispered through the leaves. Warm sunshine dappled his pelt. Behind him, the gnarled trunks of ancient trees creaked. Musty scents pooled at his paws where leaf litter lay thick on the ground. This was his territory. If Thunder didn’t want to live here, then he could leave. Frost had to leave, but Thunder had chosen to. Frost was wounded—an injury that was not healing and might grow bad. An infected cat couldn’t stay in the camp. His weakness would burden the forest tribe. Doesn’t Thunder understand that? he thought, clawing the earth with frustration. Why did so few cats understand him? All he wanted to do was protect his cats in the forest—that was all he’d ever wanted to do, since setting up home here. But his own son had called him a monster for caring. Well, he must leave, then. I won’t have my authority undermined. If Clear Sky kept telling himself this, maybe the pain in his belly would fade. . . .

  Tribe! The word rang like a blackbird’s cry in Clear Sky’s mind. It was the first time he’d thought of the forest cats as a tribe. No! He pushed the thought away sharply. We’re not a tribe! After moons of rich prey, the forest cats were sleeker and better fed than the poor starvelings who’d chosen to stay in the mountains. With the right leadership, they could flourish in lush forest. They could become stronger than any mountain cat. They need never know cold or hunger again.

  Flicking his tail, Clear Sky turned and headed through the trees.

  White fur flashed at the edge of his vision. Falling Feather was stalking through the tall grass edging the forest.

  Clear Sky’s pelt lifted irritably along his spine as he remembered Falling Feather’s parting words to Thunder. I almost wish I were coming with you. Thunder had tried to persuade the white she-cat to desert with him. And she’d actually considered it!

  Clear Sky unsheathed his claws. “Falling Feather!”

  Her head jerked up. “Clear Sky?” She looked surprised.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  She blinked at him over the grass. “What about?”

  Clear Sky narrowed his eyes. Didn’t she realize he’d overheard her? “I was watching you say good-bye to Thunder and Frost.”

  “Were you?”

  She tried to sound innocent but he could see the fur around her neck rippling guiltily. “Come here.” He scowled at her. “Well?”

  “I just wished them well, that’s all.” She pushed through the long grass toward him.

  “Thunder asked you to leave with him.” He stared at her accusingly.

  She bounded from the grass and landed on the leaf-strewn ground a tail-length away. “I told him no.”

  “You told him you almost wished you were going with him.” He circled her, his tail twitching irritably. She was acting like she’d done nothing wrong.

  “I decided to stay.” Her gaze sharpened. “What’s it to you? I can go anywhere I like.”

  Clear Sky showed his teeth. Dumb cat! Didn’t she realize how much she needed his protection and guidance? “You are part of my tribe now. If I can’t rely on your loyalty, then you might as well leave for good.”

  “Tribe?” Falling Feather’s eyes widened in surprise. “We’re not a tribe. Half our kin are in the mountains. Half the cats we traveled with live on the moor. We have no Stoneteller to guide us.”

  Heat scorched beneath Clear Sky’s pelt. The word had slipped out accidentally. Did she have to humiliate him? “Okay, we’re not a tribe,” he snapped. “We’re better than a tribe. Who needs a Stoneteller? You have me.” He lashed his tail. “I guide you now. I found our camp. I decide our borders. You should be grateful. Because of me, you will never be hungry or cold again.”

  “Because of you?” Falling Feather snorted. “You act like you brought us here! Have you forgotten that we made the journey from the mountains together? Who saved Quick Water from drowning? I did! Who saved Jagged Peak from the eagle? Gray Wing. We protected each other. No cat is more important than any other—no cat except Stoneteller. She speaks with the ancients. She’s wiser than you’ll ever be!”

  Rage surged through Clear Sky’s belly. “Look at this place!” He swept his tail toward the trees. Birds sang in their branches. Prey scuttled among their roots. “If she’s so wise, why did she stay in the mountains to starve?”

  Falling Feather thrust her muzzle close. “She was looking after her cats!”

  “That’s all I’m doing!” Indignation surged through him. How could Falling Feather be so ungrateful? “Because of me you are safe and well fed.”

  Falling Feather frowned. “It’s the forest that feeds us.”

  “And who makes sure the forest belongs to us and no one else?” Clear Sky jerked his muzzle toward the boundary marking the edge of the trees.

  “All you care about is boundaries,” Falling Feath
er accused. “You stretch them farther every chance you get. There’s more to life than territory!”

  “Really?” Clear Sky spat. “Do you want to share our prey with every passing stray?”

  “There’s enough prey in the forest to share!”

  “But now we have kits! Have you forgotten Birch and Alder?” Clear Sky couldn’t believe how shortsighted she was being. “There’ll be more kits one day, and more! Do you want them to starve, like Fluttering Bird?” Grief echoed in the back of his mind as he recalled his young sister who’d died in the mountains. Guilt soured his memory. Would she have lived if I’d hunted harder? “I never want to watch a kit starve again.”

  “Do you think I do?” Falling Feather hissed. “Stop pretending you’re moving boundaries for our sake. You’re just greedy!”

  Rage roared in his ears. Fast as a snake, Clear Sky raked her muzzle with his claws.

  Falling Feather jerked away, her paws slithering on the leaves, and stared as though she hardly recognized him.

  He showed his teeth. “Everything I do, I do for all of us,” he snarled.

  Falling Feather backed away, blood welling on her nose. “Okay,” she growled huskily.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” said Clear Sky, “but when the cold season comes and there are new kits in camp, you’ll understand what I already know: any cat who questions my loyalty puts all of us in danger.”

  With a whip of his tail, he turned and began to head farther into the forest.

  Charred wood scents still wafted on the breeze as they trekked silently through the forest, despite the fact that several full moons had passed since the great fire. When they reached camp, Clear Sky climbed the steep bank edging one side and watched Falling Feather slink across the clearing to the tangled roots of an oak. There she crouched alone, her tongue flicking out to soothe the scratch on her muzzle. Quick Water hurried to join her and the two she-cats huddled, heads close, murmuring.

  Clear Sky shifted his paws. Were they gossiping about him? Was Falling Feather complaining about the scratch he’d given her? He wondered whether to interrupt. He didn’t want cats to talk about him behind his back. But, if he drew attention to Falling Feather’s whining, he might make it worse. His pelt pricked uneasily but he held his tongue.