Hawkwing's Journey Read online

  Hawkpaw’s jaws watered. “Hey, look, Ebonyclaw,” he mewed. “Easy prey!”

  “There’ll be time for hunting later,” Ebonyclaw told him, racing on without a pause. “Right now we have to make sure that everything’s safe for our Clan.”

  As they drew close to the Twoleg greenplace, the air grew thick with a gray swirl that billowed around the two cats. The acrid scent was overwhelming, catching Hawkpaw in the throat so that he had to cough.

  “Stay back,” Ebonyclaw warned him.

  At the heart of the gray swirl, Hawkpaw could just make out a red glow that began to grow as he watched it, reaching up into separate licking tongues. He stared at the scarlet flames as they spat out gray puffs of air. They seemed to be feeding like some greedy animal on a kind of Twoleg rock made from flat sticks. Hawkpaw had sometimes seen Twolegs sitting on it with their kits, eating the weird food Duskpaw was so crazy about. Now the fire blazed up, crackling orange sparks leaping up into the low-hanging branches of a tree.

  Duskpaw, Cloudpaw! he thought, gazing around in terror as he looked for his littermates.

  But there was no sign of them. They must have left by now, Hawkpaw reminded himself. I wish I could leave, too!

  The gray air was making his eyes sting, and his lungs burned with every breath he took. “Ebonyclaw, can we—” he began.

  Suddenly the gray air swirled again. The wind shifted, blowing harder from the Twolegplace. The fire surged, and the low-hanging tree branches burst into flame. For a few heartbeats they blazed, then with a loud crackle the lowest branch fell right next to the burning Twoleg rock.

  Ebonyclaw let out a gasp, and pushed Hawkpaw back. Every muscle in Hawkpaw’s body tensed. He had never heard a warrior sound so terrified before, let alone his own mentor.

  But Ebonyclaw’s gasp was instantly drowned out by the sound of terrified yowling from beneath the Twoleg rock. It was hard to hear over the rushing and crackling sounds of the fire, but the yowling sounded dreadfully familiar to Hawkpaw.

  “StarClan, no! There are apprentices in there!” Ebonyclaw screeched.

  Oh, no! Hawkpaw felt as if his belly was dropping out. His littermates were still there—and in grave danger. Duskpaw . . . Cloudpaw!

  “Stay back!” Ebonyclaw snapped, then raced toward the fire and smoke, her belly fur brushing the grass and her tail streaming out behind her.

  Hawkpaw crouched, staring at her, his claws digging hard into the ground. The shrieking came again, louder than before, and now he could make out separate voices. Duskpaw, Cloudpaw, and Pebblepaw are all in there!

  Ignoring Ebonyclaw’s order, Hawkpaw sprang forward and hurled himself toward the blaze. “I’m coming!” he yowled.

  As the smoke thickened around him, Hawkpaw found it hard to see what was going on. The gray tendrils stung his eyes and caught him in the throat. Coughing, he groped his way forward until he spotted Cloudpaw trapped between the burning branch and the Twoleg rock. A heartbeat later he managed to make out Pebblepaw crouching underneath the strange rock, while Duskpaw scrabbled on the ground at the far side of the blazing branch.

  Guilt flowed over Hawkpaw, hotter than the flames. I wanted Duskpaw to get into trouble—just a bit—but not for something like this to happen!

  Then Ebonyclaw appeared through the smoke, fighting her way to Cloudpaw’s side. Hawkpaw froze for a moment. Do I try to help Duskpaw, or Pebblepaw?

  Pebblepaw seemed to be in more danger. Flames had burned through parts of the Twoleg rock, and pieces were starting to fall off; Pebblepaw cringed away from them, letting out a wail of terror.

  Beyond her, Duskpaw was still scrabbling around as if he was trying to get to Pebblepaw. He yowled something. Hawkpaw couldn’t hear the words through the roaring of the fire, but when he saw his brother turn his head, he understood.

  He wants me to help Pebblepaw.

  It did look like Pebblepaw was in more danger—but Duskpaw was his kin. I wish I could ask Ebonyclaw for advice, but she’s busy saving Cloudpaw!

  Hawkpaw thought he had been standing motionless for moons, but it couldn’t have been more than a few heartbeats before he flung himself through the flames toward Pebblepaw. All his instincts were telling him to run for safety in the other direction; burning grass scorched his paws and hot sparks landed on his pelt. But he kept going until he reached Pebblepaw and grabbed her by her scruff.

  “This way, furball!” he growled through a mouthful of her fur as he dragged her away from the fire and onto a clear patch of grass.

  Ebonyclaw approached as Hawkpaw let Pebblepaw flop to the ground, pushing Cloudpaw in front of her.

  But where’s Duskpaw? Hawkpaw couldn’t understand why his brother hadn’t followed them out of the blaze.

  Peering through the smoke, Hawkpaw saw that Duskpaw was still where he had been, next to the burning branch. But now he was slumped over, unmoving.

  A chill of terror gripped Hawkpaw. “Duskpaw!” he yowled.

  With Ebonyclaw at his side, Hawkpaw raced back through the smoke and flames. When they drew closer, Hawkpaw saw that one of his brother’s paws was trapped underneath the thicker end of the branch, where the fire still hadn’t reached. For a moment he felt his heart stop, and he couldn’t take a breath.

  Duskpaw wasn’t telling me to save Pebblepaw: He was asking me to help him!

  Together Hawkpaw and Ebonyclaw thrust at the branch with their forepaws until it rolled off Duskpaw in a billowing cloud of sparks. Then Ebonyclaw grabbed him by his scruff and dragged him out to where they had left Pebblepaw and Cloudpaw. Hawkpaw followed, pushing his littermate from behind. Duskpaw’s legs were limp and his head lolled; he didn’t seem able to help himself.

  Pebblepaw and Cloudpaw still lay slumped on the ground, coughing and letting out whimpers of pain. Hawkpaw could see that patches of their fur were scorched, giving off a strong scent of burning. But to his relief, neither of them seemed to have life-threatening injuries.

  However, Duskpaw was hardly moving. Now and again he would feebly try to lift his head, and let out a weak cough, but then he would slip back into unconsciousness. Hawkpaw gazed at him in horror, and shook his shoulder with one paw.

  “Duskpaw! Duskpaw, wake up,” he begged.

  “What were the three of you doing out here?” Ebonyclaw demanded.

  Cloudpaw let out a mournful wail. “Duskpaw said we should sneak over here and look for scraps of Twoleg food.”

  Hawkpaw couldn’t take his eyes off his unconscious littermate. And I might have been with you—if I hadn’t said no. He remembered his earlier hope that Duskpaw would get into trouble with a shudder of shame.

  Ebonyclaw didn’t seem to notice. She lashed her tail at Cloudpaw, clearly frustrated. “If Duskpaw told you to jump off the cliff, would you do it?”

  “I know it was our fault too,” Cloudpaw whimpered. “But when we got here, the fire was just over there, in that shiny thing.” She pointed with one paw.

  “The trash can, yes,” Ebonyclaw meowed. “And you didn’t have the sense to go back to camp and report it?”

  “It seemed safe enough then.” Pebblepaw continued the story. “Duskpaw said that the fire must have driven the Twolegs away, because Twolegs are scared of everything, but we were brave enough, and we shouldn’t let the fire keep us from the best scraps of tasty food.”

  “There was stuff under there.” Cloudpaw pointed at the Twoleg rock, now collapsing into a smoldering heap. “But then the wind shifted, and the Twoleg rock caught fire, and then the branch fell and trapped us. We never should have listened to Duskpaw!” she finished with another miserable wail.

  “You should have thought of that sooner,” Ebonyclaw snapped. “It’s too late to feel sorry, and we need to get Duskpaw back to camp so Echosong and Frecklewish can help him.” She flattened herself on the ground beside Duskpaw. “Hawkpaw, help me to get him onto my back,” she directed.

  Hawkpaw worked his shoulders under Duskpaw and began to lift him onto the black she-cat’s back. Dusk
paw revived a little and hooked his claws into Ebonyclaw’s fur. When he was settled, Ebonyclaw staggered to her paws and set off slowly back toward camp, with Hawkpaw steadying his brother on one side, and Cloudpaw and Pebblepaw limping behind. As they left the Twoleg greenplace they heard Twoleg monsters screeching in the distance, the sound growing closer as the cats trekked across the stretch of grass and into the bushes at the top of the gorge.

  Gazing anxiously at his brother, Hawkpaw could hardly believe what had happened. “Hang in there, Duskpaw . . . ,” he whispered.

  But now Duskpaw’s eyes were completely closed, and he didn’t respond at all to Hawkpaw’s urging. His legs were hanging limply and he had lost his grip on Ebonyclaw’s fur. Hawkpaw could barely manage to steady him and keep him on the black she-cat’s back.

  Hawkpaw felt as if all his strength had leaked out through his paws, and there was a hard knot in his belly as if he had swallowed crow-food. He was sick with guilt. He couldn’t believe he’d wished that Duskpaw would get into trouble. Even worse, he could have saved Duskpaw from the fire, but he hadn’t.

  Did I make the wrong choice, saving Pebblepaw first? he asked himself. And what if I lose Duskpaw because of it?

  CHAPTER 2

  Helping Ebonyclaw carry Duskpaw down the narrow trail into the gorge was one of the hardest things Hawkpaw had ever done. He was terrified that his brother would slip off Ebonyclaw’s back and plummet down onto the rocks below, in spite of the black she-cat’s careful paw steps and his own desperate efforts to hold Duskpaw still. His heart was pounding and his legs trembling by the time they reached the bottom.

  Already several cats were clustered at the end of the trail, gazing anxiously upward. The smell of smoke drifted on the air; Hawkpaw guessed that his Clanmates were already aware that something was wrong.

  Duskpaw was completely unconscious when Ebonyclaw let him slide from her back. Hawkpaw couldn’t stop staring into his ginger tabby face, desperately searching for some sign of life. He almost expected his brother to wake up and bounce to his paws, explaining that it had all been a joke.

  Duskpaw is always fooling around. . . .

  “What happened?” Waspwhisker thrust his way through the gathering crowd and gazed down at his motionless apprentice, deep concern in his eyes.

  Billystorm, Pebblepaw’s mentor, was hard on his paws. “Pebblepaw?” His voice was stern. “Where have you been?”

  Pebblepaw’s head was bowed in shame, and it was Ebonyclaw who replied. “There’s no time to explain now. Some cat fetch Echosong and Frecklewish, quickly.”

  Billystorm turned and left, as more cats bounded up to see what was happening. Hawkpaw looked around for his mother and father; he spotted Sandynose and Sagenose, followed almost at once by Tinycloud and Firefern, but there was no sign of Cherrytail or Sharpclaw. Every cat was quiet, exchanging dismayed glances.

  They know this is bad, Hawkpaw thought. Really bad.

  Moons seemed to pass before Echosong and Frecklewish slipped through the crowd to reach Duskpaw’s side.

  “Thank StarClan!” Hawkpaw murmured to himself.

  “There’s a fire at the Twoleg greenplace,” Ebonyclaw meowed, before either medicine cat could ask a question. “There was so much smoke! Duskpaw breathed in most of it, because he was the last to be saved. We almost lost Pebblepaw, too, but Hawkpaw managed to get her out.”

  Echosong gave a brisk nod. “Frecklewish, go and get some wet moss, and some comfrey and honey to treat the burns,” she ordered. As Frecklewish dashed off, she added, “Ebonyclaw, Hawkpaw, lay Duskpaw out on his back.”

  It took all of Hawkpaw’s courage to help his mentor arrange Duskpaw’s limp body on the ground. He could barely look at his brother; he seemed so lifeless.

  Instead, he forced himself to look at Echosong, as she pounced on Duskpaw and began to press his chest rhythmically with her forepaws. From time to time she would stop, to breathe into Duskpaw’s mouth from her own. Hawkpaw stared at her face, trying to glean information from her expression.

  Maybe this was something that looked very bad, but was no big deal to an experienced medicine cat.

  But all Hawkpaw could tell from gazing at Echosong was that she seemed gravely serious, intent on her task. Duskpaw still wasn’t moving.

  “What’s happening?” Hawkpaw asked at last, unable to stifle the agonized question.

  Ebonyclaw touched his shoulder with her tail-tip. “Echosong is trying to restart Duskpaw’s breathing and his heart,” she explained.

  Which means his breathing and his heart have stopped, Hawkpaw realized. He felt again as though a tough piece of crow-food was lodged in his belly, and he was about to vomit it up.

  Echosong went on pushing at Duskpaw’s chest, while Hawkpaw watched, barely daring to breathe. Finally, after what seemed like moons, the medicine cat stopped and stepped back, shaking her head. Duskpaw still lay motionless.

  “You can’t give up!” Hawkpaw cried. “What are you doing? You have to save him!”

  He was aware of all the other cats who were gathered around, staring at him, but no cat spoke. Hawkpaw felt his heart tearing apart as if a badger were ripping it with powerful claws.

  He let out a mournful wail, and behind him another cat joined in. Turning, Hawkpaw saw his mother, Cherrytail, along with his father, Sharpclaw, pressing forward into the circle of cats who surrounded him.

  Cherrytail rushed forward and flung herself to the ground beside Duskpaw, burying her nose in his fur. A couple of tail-lengths away, Pebblepaw and Cloudpaw were lying on the grass, moaning miserably. Hawkpaw guessed they were beginning to feel the effects of their burns, but they could barely open their eyes. Clearly they weren’t aware of what was going on around them.

  They don’t know yet that Duskpaw is dead!

  Sharpclaw stood over his son’s body, stony and silent. Then briefly Hawkpaw felt his father’s gaze rest on him. But before either cat could speak, Billystorm reappeared with the Clan leader, Leafstar. They joined Sharpclaw and Ebonyclaw, and all four cats conferred quietly together.

  Hawkpaw crept up to his mother and pressed himself closely against her side. He couldn’t find any words to comfort her, but he wrapped his tail around her shoulders.

  Cherrytail didn’t respond, her muzzle still buried in her dead son’s fur. Hawkpaw didn’t blame her for not letting him console her. He couldn’t console himself. I can’t tell her it’ll be okay. Nothing will ever be okay again.

  By now, Frecklewish had returned with wet moss and the healing honey and comfrey. Echosong joined her, and the two medicine cats began to dress Cloudpaw’s and Pebblepaw’s injuries. After a few moments, Frecklewish padded over to Hawkpaw with a bundle of dripping moss in her jaws.

  “You have a bad burn on your back,” she mewed, setting down the moss. “Keep still and I’ll dress it.”

  Hawkpaw turned to her with the beginnings of a snarl. He hadn’t realized that he had been hurt; he still couldn’t feel it. All the pain he felt was in his heart.

  “I’m okay,” he meowed to Frecklewish. “Leave me alone.”

  “No, you’re not okay,” Frecklewish persisted. “You need to let me—”

  Hawkpaw sprang to his paws. “I said, leave me alone!” he growled with a lash of his tail.

  At that, Frecklewish backed off, turning to see to Ebonyclaw’s wounds instead. Echosong was still tending to Cloudpaw and Pebblepaw. Pebblepaw’s parents, Sparrowpelt and Tinycloud, along with her littermate Parsleypaw, had settled down beside her, and were trying to comfort her.

  Hawkpaw turned back to his mother to see that Sharpclaw had joined her, and was gently licking her ears. His green eyes were full of sorrow as he pressed himself against his mate’s side.

  Hawkpaw stood alone, staring at his brother’s lifeless body.

  At last Cherrytail rose to her paws and padded over to Hawkpaw, leaning against him. “Ebonyclaw told us what happened,” she murmured. “I’m glad that you’re okay. I know you did everything you could
to save Duskpaw. It’s not your fault that he’s dead.”

  “But I—” Hawkpaw tried to interrupt, knowing very well that it was his fault.

  “You’re a hero for saving Pebblepaw,” his mother assured him. “It was very brave of you to rush into that fire.”

  Hawkpaw couldn’t feel any sense of pride at his mother’s words. And when he looked up at his father and saw Sharpclaw’s face so full of grief, guilt rushed over him again so strongly that he could hardly stay on his paws.

  Pain had begun to stab into Hawkpaw from the wound on his back, and he wished that he hadn’t told Frecklewish to go away.

  But then, maybe I deserve this pain.

  “Hawkpaw!” The voice was Echosong’s as she padded toward him. “Come back with me to the medicine cat den. You need to rest, and to let me see to that wound on your back.”

  Hawkpaw opened his jaws, but Echosong gave him no chance to protest. Though she was usually very calm, he knew that she put up with no nonsense from any cat. “You’ll do as you’re told,” she meowed. “You’re just an apprentice, and I’m your medicine cat. When I tell you to come with me, you come.”

  Too exhausted and heartsick to argue, Hawkpaw bowed his head and followed her.

  Inside the medicine cat den, Pebblepaw and Cloudpaw were already stretched out asleep in nests of thick moss. Their chests rose and fell rhythmically as they breathed.

  “How are they?” Hawkpaw asked, angling his ears toward the two she-cats.

  “They’re comfortable,” Echosong replied. “They’ll be okay—their burns aren’t as bad as I thought at first. In a few days they’ll be up and about again.”

  Hawkpaw’s relief at hearing Echosong’s reassurance was mingled with even more guilt. Knowing that Pebblepaw wasn’t badly hurt reminded him of what he couldn’t stop thinking. What if I had gone to save Duskpaw first? Maybe Pebblepaw’s injuries would have been a bit worse, but Duskpaw would still be alive!