Shattered Sky Page 3

  When the ThunderClan cats pushed their way through the bushes that surrounded the central clearing, they saw that RiverClan had already arrived. Alderheart suppressed a gasp of shock and pity when he saw Mistystar’s wound, a gash running from her neck almost to her hind leg. She winced at every movement, and her eyes were filled with pain. Duskfur, Mintfur, and Reedwhisker clustered closely around her, wounds visible on their bodies too. Yet all of them stood proudly; Alderheart admired their determination to be strong.

  Chatter broke out among the cats of both Clans, but it sank into silence a moment later as Onestar led the cats of WindClan into the clearing.

  They’ve got a few scratches, Alderheart thought, gazing at them with disgust. But none of them are hurt as badly as our cats, or RiverClan’s.

  From the glare of contempt that Mistystar gave Onestar, she was clearly thinking the same thing.

  Alderheart and Jayfeather padded closer to the Great Oak in the center of the clearing, murmuring greetings to Mothwing and Willowshine, who were already sitting there. Kestrelflight, the WindClan medicine cat, joined them a few heartbeats later. Alderheart flashed him an awkward glance; the rest of the cats simply ignored him. Kestrelflight crouched down a tail-length away, clearly embarrassed, and said nothing.

  Bramblestar and Rowanstar leaped into the branches of the Great Oak, followed closely by Onestar, who scrambled out onto a branch far away from the other two. Alderheart thought Mistystar would never make it into the tree, but she clawed her way up, her teeth set in grim determination, and collapsed onto a low branch.

  “Is Rowanstar even a Clan leader anymore?” Sparkpelt whispered to Cherryfall. “The only other cats in his Clan now are his mate and his kit.”

  Overhearing his sister, Alderheart shifted uncomfortably. He knew that she was wrong. StarClan had given nine lives to Rowanstar, and nothing could take that away: Rowanstar had every right to sit with the other leaders. But that didn’t change the fact that ShadowClan was in trouble.

  Even worse trouble, after today, Alderheart reflected, a terrible thought filling his mind. A thought he could barely believe possible. Is this the end of ShadowClan?

  “I think we all know what we need to discuss tonight,” Mistystar announced, after Bramblestar had called for attention from the cats in the clearing. “Onestar, what got into you this morning? You cost us the battle when you fled and took your cats with you. And RiverClan took the worst of the damage.”

  “So you say,” Onestar snapped.

  “And how would you know?” Mistystar flashed back at him. “You weren’t there, you coward! Perchwing was killed, and many more of my warriors were injured. All to solve a problem we did nothing to cause!”

  Alderheart was startled. He hadn’t realized that any cat had died in the battle. Now he understood even better the scathing contempt in Mistystar’s eyes and voice as she faced the WindClan leader.

  “Perhaps I should do the same as you,” Mistystar went on, “and just close my borders when I don’t agree with other Clans. It would certainly be easier than fighting their battles for them!”

  “Mistystar, no cat wants you to do that,” Bramblestar broke in, clearly trying to stay calm. “But we certainly don’t blame you for feeling as you do. Onestar, in StarClan’s name, why did you order your cats to retreat?”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything,” Onestar meowed defensively, his neck fur bristling. “I had my reasons.”

  “Yes,” Rowanstar growled, “that you’re a coward.”

  “I am not! But I shouldn’t have to see my Clan destroyed rescuing ShadowClan from its own incompetence. My only responsibility is to WindClan.”

  But he didn’t retreat to save his Clan, Alderheart thought. From what Twigpaw told me, he gave the order because of something Darktail told him. Onestar is hiding something, and I would really like to know what it is.

  “But you gave your word that you would help us drive out the rogues,” Rowanstar meowed. “And then you broke that word. How can any cat trust you again?”

  “You’re a fine one to talk!” Onestar snarled. “You and the ShadowClan cats with you were trying to protect your former Clanmates, the cats you were supposed to be fighting! Don’t blame me for losing the battle!”

  Rowanstar’s shoulders sagged and his tail drooped, but there was still pride in his tone as he replied. “That is true, Onestar—but I do not believe that we lost our honor because we could not bring ourselves to attack our true Clanmates. Once the rogues are driven out, ShadowClan—”

  “Thanks to you and Onestar,” Mistystar interrupted, her voice full of bitterness, “right now the rogues don’t seem anywhere close to being driven out. First of all we held back from getting rid of them because of the prophecy that told us to embrace what lay in the shadows.”

  “And every Clan agreed with that,” Rowanstar pointed out.

  Mistystar sniffed disdainfully. “It was ShadowClan who assumed they should let strange cats move onto their territory! If you ask me, Rowanstar, you brought this on yourself.”

  “But—” Rowanstar began.

  “We’ve waited too long to drive out the rogues,” Mistystar retorted. “Perhaps we were once confused by the prophecy, but its meaning seems clear now: the rogues are not ‘what you find in the shadows.’ The rogues are what we must drive out to clear the sky!”

  Rowanstar had no answer to that, and in the moment’s silence that followed, Mallownose of RiverClan sprang to his paws.

  “But how?” he asked. “The lost kits that ShadowClan and ThunderClan took in don’t seem to be part of the prophecy, either,” he pointed out. “We thought that by embracing them, we would find the answer. But they’ve been with the Clans even longer, and things here beside the lake are only getting worse.”

  Alderheart cast an unfriendly look at the RiverClan tom, his neck fur beginning to bristle. Violetpaw and Twigpaw were innocent kits! You can’t expect them to solve a problem like Darktail.

  At the same time, Alderheart could not help feeling frustrated. I know what the prophecy is about—SkyClan! I just have to convince Bramblestar.

  Arguments were springing up all over the clearing, drowning out the voices of the Clan leaders. The cats sounded increasingly desperate, worrying about what the prophecy might mean.

  “What if the sky never clears?” some cat wailed plaintively.

  Snarls and hisses rose up around Alderheart. Cats were leaping up, their fur fluffed out and their ears flattened in rage. He felt that, at any moment, the truce of the Gathering might be broken.

  “Jayfeather, we have to—” he began.

  Before he could get more words out, Alderheart realized that the light in the clearing was growing dim. Looking up, he saw that a cloud had begun to drift across the moon, obscuring the shining silver circle.

  “Look at the moon!” Bramblestar’s voice rose above the clamor in the clearing. “StarClan is angry! This Gathering is at an end.”

  Instantly the four leaders jumped down from the Great Oak and began to call their Clans together. The hostile snarling died away as the cats glanced anxiously up at the darkening sky and hurried to leave the island across the tree-bridge. But they still glared at one another; there were none of the friendly farewells that marked the end of an ordinary Gathering.

  Alderheart felt uneasy. He wished the Gathering had lasted long enough for the Clans to work out their differences.

  But then, he reflected, that probably wouldn’t have happened if we’d kept on arguing all night.

  This rift between the Clans was too deep to be easily healed. It made him more certain than ever that he had to persuade Bramblestar to tell the other Clans the truth. For the sake of SkyClan, too, he added to himself, remembering the wretched cats from his vision.

  Alderheart was unable to relax until his Clan had crossed the bridge and was heading back to ThunderClan along the WindClan lakeshore. Then he slipped away from Jayfeather and quickened his pace until he caught up to Bramblestar at the h
ead of the group.

  “May I speak to you?” he asked.

  Bramblestar blinked at him in surprise. “Yes, of course,” he replied. “If you have anything useful to say about this mess, I want to hear it.”

  “I think the time has come to tell the other Clans about SkyClan,” Alderheart began. “No, please listen to me,” he continued, when Bramblestar looked as if he was about to protest. “SkyClan lies in the shadows, hidden from all of us—and helping them would ‘clear the sky.’ Right?”

  He realized anxiously that his leader looked taken aback, and not at all sympathetic to the idea he had suggested.

  “Don’t we have enough problems on our own territory,” Bramblestar asked, “without taking on another difficult quest?”

  “I had another vision,” Alderheart told him. “The SkyClan cats are still wandering, lost and homeless—now they don’t even have a medicine cat. They need our help, and I don’t think StarClan would be giving me these visions if we weren’t meant to help them.” Encouraged to see that Bramblestar had begun to look more thoughtful, he added, “If the prophecy is about SkyClan, then every cat should know about them. After all, the prophecy was given to all the Clans, not just to me.”

  Bramblestar hesitated before replying, and Alderheart felt his belly tense with worry. I’m sure it’s time for the secret to be told, he thought, but what if Bramblestar refuses? Can I go against the orders of my father, of my Clan leader?

  Eventually Bramblestar let out a long sigh. “Perhaps you’re right, Alderheart,” he mewed. “I’ve been so ashamed of the way the Clans treated SkyClan, I never wanted any other cat to know, but maybe—with your vision guiding us—we can put things right.”

  Alderheart swelled with pride to see the respect in his father’s eyes as Bramblestar gazed at him. He really listened to me! New confidence and relief surged through him like a stream released from the icy grip of leaf-bare. Now at last we can work toward fulfilling the prophecy!

  Sunhigh was approaching as Alderheart waded through the stream that marked the border with WindClan, following Bramblestar and Squirrelflight. Lionblaze and Dovewing brought up the rear.

  Facing the swell of moorland that they had to climb, Alderheart felt exhausted, hardly able to put one paw in front of another. He had barely slept the night before. After they’d returned from the Gathering, Bramblestar had told the rest of ThunderClan, and the three ShadowClan cats, all that he and Alderheart knew about SkyClan. They had all stayed up until the moon had almost set, the other cats questioning Bramblestar and Alderheart—along with Cherryfall, Molewhisker, and Sparkpelt, who had been told about SkyClan when they accompanied Alderheart on his quest—about every detail of the story.

  “I’d have something to say to Needletail, if she was here,” Rowanstar had meowed with a lash of his tail. “She never said a word about visiting SkyClan territory! I knew I should never have trusted her.”

  “She only kept it a secret because I asked her to.” Alderheart had tried to defend the cat who had been his friend, especially as he still hoped that she might abandon the rogues and help the Clan cats drive them out. “I thought it was for the best.”

  Rowanstar had been unimpressed. “Her first loyalty should have been to ShadowClan,” he growled.

  As soon as the sun was up, Bramblestar had led their patrol over to RiverClan to tell them the truth. Alderheart had been very apprehensive, remembering Mistystar’s justified anger at the Gathering the night before. But to his relief, the meeting had gone better than he had anticipated.

  “Just what I’d expect from ThunderClan,” Mintfur had snapped. “Thinking they should keep this secret to themselves—that they’re the only Clan that matters!”

  But Mistystar had silenced her warrior with a wave of her tail. “Is it true that you don’t know how to find SkyClan?” she asked Alderheart.

  Alderheart nodded. “Not yet.”

  “Not ever, I should hope,” the elder Mosspelt muttered. “There are enough cats around the lake already.”

  Mistystar looked relieved at Alderheart’s response. “In that case, I don’t see what we can do,” she mewed, then added to Bramblestar, “Just don’t expect RiverClan to solve any more problems for the Clans right now. We need time to lick our wounds.”

  Alderheart had felt disappointed that RiverClan hadn’t shown any more enthusiasm for finding the lost Clan, but at least they hadn’t been upset or hostile. And he thought that Bramblestar seemed to be more relaxed, breathing more easily, now that he wasn’t carrying the burden of the secret.

  But how is Onestar going to react? Alderheart wondered as he toiled up the moorland slope in the paw steps of his leader. He’s been so unpredictable lately.

  A stiff breeze was blowing from the crest of the moor, flattening Alderheart’s whiskers against his face. It carried the scent of many cats, fresh but distant, coming from the direction of the WindClan camp. Then, before the ThunderClan patrol had traveled more than a few fox-lengths from the border stream, a stronger scent wafted over them, and a WindClan patrol appeared from behind an outcrop of rocks.

  The dark gray tom Crowfeather was in the lead, followed by Larkwing, Emberfoot, and his apprentice, Smokepaw.

  Bramblestar halted and signaled to his patrol to do the same as Crowfeather stalked up to them. The WindClan cat’s eyes were cold and unfriendly.

  “What are you doing on WindClan territory?” he demanded. “You’re not welcome here. Onestar does not want to see any cats from other Clans.”

  Bramblestar dipped his head politely to Crowfeather, ignoring his hostility. “I believe Onestar will want to know—” he began.

  “Then you believe wrong!” Crowfeather retorted. “Onestar is very upset about the accusations that were made at the Gathering.”

  “But we’ve come on important Clan business,” Bramblestar argued.

  “Yes,” Squirrelflight added, “and it has to do with a medicine-cat vision. Come on, Crowfeather, this is us you’re talking to. Have you forgotten how we all made the journey to the sun-drown-place together? You should know that we wouldn’t lie to you.”

  Crowfeather looked briefly uncomfortable, then dug his claws hard into the rough moorland grass. “That was a long time ago,” he snapped, “and I have my orders from Onestar now. Turn back, and get off our territory. Now.”

  Bramblestar exchanged a frustrated glance with Squirrelflight. Alderheart was afraid they would have to obey Crowfeather and leave, when he heard a yowl coming from the top of the hill and saw another WindClan patrol racing down toward them.

  “What’s going on?” Gorsetail, the cat in the lead, asked Crowfeather as she halted beside him. “What do these cats want?”

  Her companions, Oatclaw and Featherpelt, stood a pace behind her, eyeing the ThunderClan cats warily. We’re outnumbered if it comes to a fight, Alderheart thought.

  “They say they have to speak to Onestar,” Crowfeather replied. “But Onestar won’t want to speak to them.”

  “We have important information for him,” Bramblestar put in swiftly.

  Gorsetail gazed at the ThunderClan leader for a heartbeat, drawing a gray-and-white paw over one ear. “Maybe Onestar will want to hear what another Clan leader has to tell him,” she meowed eventually. “We’d better escort them to the camp.”

  Crowfeather looked outraged. “Are you mouse-brained?” he demanded. “You were standing right next to me when Onestar told us to keep all other cats out.”

  “Mouse-brained yourself, Crowfeather,” Gorsetail responded. “Bramblestar wouldn’t be here if this weren’t something Onestar needed to know. I’ll take responsibility, if it bothers you so much.”

  Crowfeather opened his jaws for a stinging retort, then clearly thought better of it. “Suit yourself,” he snarled with an angry shrug. “If Onestar claws your ears off, don’t come crying to me.”

  “I’ll take the risk,” Gorsetail mewed dryly.

  Without bothering to respond, Crowfeather waved his tail to gathe
r the rest of his patrol, and headed downhill toward the border.

  Gorsetail watched them go, then turned to Bramblestar and the others. “Come on, ThunderClan cats,” she ordered. “This had better be good.”

  Flanked by Oatclaw and Featherpelt, Bramblestar followed her up the slope, with Alderheart and the rest clustered behind him. As they climbed farther up, Alderheart glanced down in the direction of the horseplace and was surprised to spot a third WindClan patrol heading along the lakeshore.

  Why are their borders so heavily guarded? he wondered.

  When they drew close to the camp, Gorsetail sent Oatclaw racing ahead to warn Onestar of their arrival. By the time Bramblestar and his patrol crossed the lip of the hollow where WindClan had their camp, Onestar was waiting for them outside his den. As they padded down toward him, more WindClan warriors surrounded them, suspicion and hostility in their eyes and their bristling fur.

  If we put one whisker out of place, I’m sure they’ll tear our pelts off, Alderheart thought uneasily.

  “Well, Bramblestar? What is it that you want?” Onestar demanded as Bramblestar drew closer, facing off with the WindClan leader. “If it’s about the battle, you can turn around right now and get off my territory.”

  “This has nothing to do with the battle,” Bramblestar meowed calmly. “There’s something important that you ought to know. Do you remember, seasons ago, back in the old forest, when Firestar left ThunderClan for a while . . . ?”

  Alderheart watched Onestar closely while Bramblestar told the story that no other Clan had heard until now: how Firestar had been led to the gorge by a vision of a SkyClan ancestor and had helped renew the lost SkyClan. Outrage grew on the WindClan leader’s face with every word that Bramblestar spoke.

  “So ThunderClan has been lying all this time?” he burst out when Bramblestar had finished. “I should have known you couldn’t be trusted, Bramblestar—you or Firestar before you!”