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“I heard that they want the borders to go back to the way they were before SkyClan.” Leafpool’s gaze was dark with worry.
“Not exactly,” Squirrelflight explained. “No cat wants to deprive SkyClan of a home. But the new borders have left ShadowClan with land they can’t hunt. And we have a strip of moorland that, clearly, we hardly use.”
Leafstar’s pelt ruffled. “But we can’t go back to our old borders. What would happen to SkyClan?”
“That’s why I was asking Mousewhisker about the area beyond the abandoned Twolegplace. It might make great territory for SkyClan.”
Leafpool looked curious. “Would they move there?”
“They might if they knew it was good land.” Squirrelflight looked at her sister hopefully.
Leafpool didn’t look convinced. “It could work, but does Bramblestar know about this idea?”
Squirrelflight puffed out her chest. “I suggested it at the meeting last night.”
“You did?” Leafpool’s ears twitched nervously.
“I had to. It would solve all our problems,” Squirrelflight insisted.
Leafpool frowned. “I really don’t think SkyClan should have to move. They’ve been through enough. Can’t the Clans get used to their new borders?”
“We all need more land,” Squirrelflight pointed out, swallowing back frustration. She’d been hoping Leafpool would agree with her.
“What does Bramblestar think?”
“He thinks SkyClan should stay where they are.”
“I’m glad someone’s on their side.” Leafpool picked up the folded leaf between her teeth and carried it to the back of the den. She dropped it beside the pool. “ShadowClan has been trying to push out SkyClan since they got here. Now RiverClan and WindClan are joining in. I know change is difficult, but the Clans aren’t even trying to change. They seem to want everything the same as it used to be. I’m surprised StarClan hasn’t said something.”
Squirrelflight pricked her ears. “Will you ask them next time you’re at the Moonpool?”
Leafpool shrugged. “I can, but I don’t know if they’ll answer. They’ve been silent since the storm. We figured it was because they had nothing to tell us.” She glanced away, frowning. “Now I’m not so sure.”
Squirrelflight tensed. “Do you think their silence means something?”
“I only know that it’s unnerving touching my nose to the Moonpool and seeing nothing but the moon’s reflection.” She padded back to Squirrelflight. “You said Bramblestar thinks SkyClan shouldn’t move.” She tipped her head enquiringly. “Did you argue about it?”
Squirrelflight looked away. “What makes you think we argued?”
“I saw you come out of the warriors’ den this morning.” Leafpool gazed sympathetically at her sister.
“He says I should have backed him up.”
“It might have been best to discuss it with him first. SkyClan needs time to find their paws and establish themselves beside the lake. I’m not sure moving them now would be a good idea.”
“But if they stay where they are, these tensions over the borders will only grow.” Why couldn’t Leafpool and Bramblestar see what would happen if they didn’t solve the land dispute quickly? “Tigerstar’s like a fox with a bone once he’s got an idea in his head.”
“True,” Leafpool conceded. “But do you think Tigerstar—or any of them—will let go of this idea now? What if SkyClan decides it doesn’t want to move?” She frowned. “No wonder Bramblestar’s upset. You’ve stirred up quite a bee’s nest.”
Squirrelflight swished her tail irritably. “We didn’t just argue over moving SkyClan.” She wanted to tell Leafpool the whole story, but she hesitated. The subject of kits was a tricky one with Leafpool. Many moons before, she’d had a litter of kits with Crowfeather, a WindClan warrior. Because Leafpool was a medicine cat, forbidden from taking a mate, and because the kit’s father was in another Clan, Squirrelflight had agreed to raise the kits with Bramblestar as though they were her own. Those kits were Jayfeather, Lionblaze, and Hollyleaf, and Squirrelflight had loved them as much as any mother could. But she knew it must be hard for Leafpool to understand her desire for another litter. She had already had the chance to be a mother twice, something Leafpool could never experience.
Her littermate stared at her, her eyes glittering with curiosity. “What is it, then?”
Squirrelflight let out her breath. Never mind the awkwardness—Leafpool will understand. And she needed reassurance. “He said he doesn’t want more kits as much as I do.”
Leafpool’s eyes rounded with sympathy. “Oh, Squirrelflight.”
Squirrelflight nodded. “I know. It’s—” Selfish of me, she was about to say. Because I’ve already mothered two litters. But Leafpool didn’t let her finish.
“That must have hurt,” Leafpool said softly, dipping her head. “I know how much you want another litter.”
“Bramblestar says he’s getting old and that the Clan is enough responsibility.” She trailed into silence, the memory of the argument stinging her afresh.
“I’m sure he’d love kits if you had them,” Leafpool mewed. “But I can see how he finds the thought overwhelming.”
Squirrelflight blinked at her. “Do you think I’m being unreasonable, wanting more kits? I know I . . .”
“No, of course not. But you already have Alderheart and Sparkpelt. And, in a way, Jayfeather and Lionblaze.”
Squirrelflight nodded, but her heart ached. “They don’t need me anymore.”
“They’ll always need you,” Leafpool mewed. “Just not in the same way as when they were kits. And the Clan needs you, doesn’t it?”
“It’s not the same.”
Leafpool stretched her muzzle forward and touched her nose to Squirrelflight’s cheek. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m sure Bramblestar wants kits. Just give him time.”
“What if there isn’t time?” Squirrelflight felt suddenly weary. “What if I’m too old?”
“You’re not too old.” Leafpool pulled away. “Don’t rush so much, Squirrelflight.” She gazed fondly at her sister. “Stop trying to sort out every problem at once. One day you’ll have more kits, and Bramblestar will forget he ever had doubts. And the Clans will sort out their borders. Slow down and let things happen naturally.”
Squirrelflight dipped her head, grateful that Leafpool was her sister. She was gentle and wise, and she always tried to understand. But Squirrelflight knew they were looking at the border dispute from different angles. Leafpool was a medicine cat—of course she thought the new borders should remain. She didn’t understand that warriors valued hunting land too much to let it go to waste without a fight.
And as far as kits went . . . Leafpool didn’t understand what it felt like not to be needed. Leafpool was needed every day. The Clan depended on her, sometimes for their lives. It was different for Squirrelflight. Even as deputy, she was just one warrior among many.
She got to her paws. “Thanks for listening, Leafpool.” She felt her sister’s gaze follow her as she padded out of the den. Hunger tugged in her belly, not for food but for something she couldn’t quite put her paw on. She needed to do something. She couldn’t just accept the way things were. She headed for the camp entrance. Last night’s meeting still nagged at her. There must be some way to convince Bramblestar that her idea was the perfect solution to this new disagreement among the Clans. She remembered Leafstar’s hesitation; the SkyClan leader had looked thoughtful for a moment before she’d squared her shoulders, as though she was weighing the possibility of moving. Perhaps there was a way to persuade her. If Squirrelflight could approach her quietly, without the eyes of the other Clans, she might be able to make her consider the idea seriously. Mousewhisker had said that there were few signs of danger beyond the border. If she took this information to Leafstar, it might be enough to change the SkyClan leader’s mind.
Lifting her tail, Squirrelflight marched out of the ThunderClan camp and headed toward the SkyClan
border. She knew what she must do. She had to speak to Leafstar.
CHAPTER 3
Squirrelflight fluffed out her pelt as she neared the SkyClan border and peered between the trees. She’d wait for an escort. There was no point rubbing Leafstar’s fur the wrong way by crossing SkyClan territory without permission. The heat of the morning had given way to dampness as clouds rolled in from the mountains. Squirrelflight could smell rain, and the first drops began to fall as she waited, straining to glimpse movement beyond the SkyClan border.
She heard ferns rustle and snapped her gaze toward the sound. Black-and-white fur flashed between the fronds, and Palesky, a SkyClan warrior, slid into the open, warily tasting the air. “I smell ThunderClan.”
Tree padded out beside her. “We’re near the border, right?”
Squirrelflight lifted her tail. “Tree!”
Palesky turned first. “Squirrelflight? What are you doing here?” As Tree turned around, she stalked toward Squirrelflight. Around them, raindrops splashed onto the leaves.
Tree hurried after her. “How’s Twigbranch?” he called.
“She’s fine.” Squirrelflight’s mew rang through the trees. She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if ThunderClan warriors were near. She didn’t want to be seen talking to the SkyClan cats. Lowering her voice, she called more softly. “I want to speak with Leafstar.”
Palesky reached her, narrowing her eyes. Squirrelflight could see curiosity in her gaze, but the black-and-white she-cat dipped her head respectfully and didn’t ask any questions. Sometimes it’s useful to be a Clan deputy, Squirrelflight thought. “She’s in the camp. I’ll take you to her.”
Tree looked surprised. “But Squirrelflight knows where the camp is. She can find it herself and we can finish our patrol.”
Palesky flicked her tail impatiently. “We can’t let cats from other Clans wander around our territory unguarded.”
“But she’s alone.” Tree looked unconvinced. “What harm could she do?”
“She might be a spy, or have come to hunt our prey,” Palesky told him. She looked quickly at Squirrelflight. “I know you aren’t,” she added respectfully. “But we must follow the rules.”
“The rules make no sense,” Tree objected. “But fine, we’ll do it your way.”
Squirrelflight glanced at him, amused. Once a loner, always a loner. Would Tree ever understand the warrior code?
Palesky nodded for Squirrelflight to cross the border. Squirrelflight scanned the forest once more for ThunderClan warriors, then padded into SkyClan territory and followed Palesky toward the SkyClan camp.
“How are your kits?” she asked Tree as he fell in beside her.
The yellow tom purred proudly. “They’re growing fast.”
Frecklewish had reported at the last Gathering that Violetshine had given birth to Tree’s kits. Her sister, Twigbranch, had been overjoyed and had asked to be allowed to visit her new kin, but Bramblestar had been reluctant to let one of his warriors foster such close ties. “Violetshine is SkyClan. Twigbranch is ThunderClan,” he had said. “No good can come from such divided loyalties.”
Squirrelflight glanced at Tree as she followed Palesky through a clearing thick with brambles. “Twigbranch is dying to see them, but I think she’ll have to wait until their first Gathering.”
“Violetshine can’t wait to show them off.” Tree’s eyes shone.
The rain was falling more heavily now, drumming on the canopy and dripping into the forest. Squirrelflight shook drops from her pelt. Her heart quickened as they neared the camp. Would Leafstar be willing to listen to her?
The camp wall showed ahead and Palesky hurried forward. “Stay with her, Tree,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll warn Leafstar she’s coming.”
Warn? Squirrelflight’s ears twitched nervously. “I only want to speak with her,” she called as Palesky disappeared through the entrance tunnel.
“What do you want to speak to her about?” Tree asked.
Squirrelflight lifted her chin. She wasn’t used to being questioned by warriors. “You’ll hear when Leafstar wants you to hear.”
Tree glanced at her but said nothing and escorted her into camp.
Violetshine looked up as she entered. The young queen was sharing a mouse with Reedclaw beside the nursery, ignoring the rain dripping from their ears. Bellaleaf sheltered in the nursery entrance, lapping her swollen belly. Four kits were splashing noisily through the puddles already forming at the edge of the clearing. None of them were more than three moons old. The two smaller kits—one black-and-white and one yellow—stopped when they saw Tree and hurtled across the clearing to meet him.
The black-and-white she-kit reached him first. “Tree!”
Squirrelflight hopped out of the way as the other kit caught up and began weaving eagerly around Tree’s legs.
“Hi, Rootkit.” He cuffed the yellow tom-kit fondly with his paw, then nosed the black-and-white she-kit. “How’s it going, Needlekit?”
“Can you play with us now?” squeaked Needlekit.
“Violetshine says she’s tired.” Rootkit looked like a tiny version of Tree.
Tree purred. “I can play with you after our visitor has left.”
Needlekit looked up at Squirrelflight, her eyes widening. “Who are you?”
“I’m Squirrelflight.” Her heart ached with longing. How much longer would she have to wait to have her own kits? “I’ve come to speak with Leafstar.” She glanced at the two larger kits, left behind in the puddles. She hadn’t realized SkyClan had so many kits. They would need all the territory they could get soon. “Who are they?”
“Reedclaw’s kits,” Tree told her. “Kitekit and Turtlekit.”
“They’re going to be apprentices a whole moon before us.” Needlekit looked indignant. “But Frecklewish says we’re growing really fast. We’ll be as big as them soon.”
Rootkit was sniffing Squirrelflight warily. “You don’t smell like us,” he mewed.
“I don’t smell like SkyClan,” Squirrelflight told him. “I’m from ThunderClan.”
Rootkit pricked his ears. “Like Twigbranch?”
“Yes.” Squirrelflight purred. Violetshine must have told them about their ThunderClan kin. She gazed around the clearing. Harrybrook and Plumwillow were watching her from the other side of the camp. Frecklewish glanced up from the herbs she was sorting outside the medicine-cat den. Dewspring and Nectarsong stared at her from beside the fresh-kill pile.
Macgyver padded sleepily from the warriors’ den, his nose twitching. “I smell ThunderClan.”
Needlekit bounded toward him, her black chest puffed out. “It’s Squirrelflight. She’s come to visit.”
As Macgyver turned his watchful gaze on Squirrelflight, Palesky ducked out of a den, and Leafstar and Hawkwing slid out after her, their eyes dark with suspicion.
“Squirrelflight,” Leafstar greeted her coldly, stopping a tail-length away. “What do you want? Where is Bramblestar?”
“I was hoping to talk to you.” Squirrelflight shifted her paws as the SkyClan leader glared at her. “Alone.”
Hawkwing narrowed his eyes. “I think you said enough at the meeting.”
“But I didn’t,” Squirrelflight meowed quickly. “If I had, things might be different. I just want to see if we can come to an agreement.” The curious stares of the SkyClan warriors, watching from around the clearing, seemed to burn through her pelt. “Perhaps we could talk somewhere private.”
Leafstar didn’t move. Rain ran along her whiskers.
Squirrelflight lowered her voice. “I don’t want to put ideas into the heads of your Clanmates.”
Leafstar snorted. “You seemed happy to put them into the heads of the other Clans.”
“I’m sorry.” Squirrelflight dipped her head. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken out, but I was trying to keep the peace.”
“At our expense, as usual,” muttered Hawkwing.
“Just let me speak to you.” Squirrelflight gazed imploring
ly at Leafstar. Had she imagined the SkyClan leader’s moment of hesitation at the meeting? Perhaps Leafstar had never even considered moving SkyClan to new territory. Her breath caught in her throat. But she has to!
Leafstar flicked her tail. “Okay.” She jerked her muzzle toward her den. “But I can’t spare much time. I have a Clan to take care of.”
Squirrelflight hurried through the rain and waited at the den entrance for Leafstar to go in first.
“Join us, Hawkwing,” Leafstar ordered as she nosed her way inside.
Needlekit blinked at Squirrelflight. “Leafstar doesn’t like you much, does she?”
“Not at the moment,” Squirrelflight told her softly. “But I hope I can change her mind.”
She followed Leafstar inside, Hawkwing at her heels.
It was dry inside the den and stuffy from the morning’s heat. Squirrelflight wanted to shake the rain from her fur but didn’t dare. She’d soak Leafstar and Hawkwing. Instead she blinked the raindrops from her eyes, ignoring the dampness seeping deeper into her pelt. “I know I am asking a lot of you,” she began. “You have suffered more than most Clans, and you’ve been without a real home for too long. But Harestar was right about land being wasted. I think we undertook these new borders with the best of intentions, but even if we learn to hunt the moorland we were given, ShadowClan will never fish in their marshes, and RiverClan will have to watch prey that once belonged to them go uncaught. We simply can’t adapt to this new territory, and that makes the new borders unworkable.”
Hawkwing stood as still as rock. “How is that our problem?”
“It’ll be everyone’s problem eventually. The Clans are growing, and not every season is as kind as greenleaf. When Clans go hungry, battles start. The peace we have now won’t survive a prey-scarce leaf-bare if WindClan and RiverClan are forced to watch territory that was once theirs go to waste.” She saw a flicker of interest in Leafstar’s stony gaze. “It was the best solution we could come up with at the time. And it is not fair to ask you to move again,” Squirrelflight meowed earnestly. “I know that. Every cat knows that. But it might be the only way to keep a lasting peace.”