STARLIGHT

“Squirrelpaw,” the ThunderClan leader was saying, “do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Squirrelpaw’s reply rang out clearly. “I do.”

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Squirrelpaw, from this moment you will be known as Squirrelflight. StarClan honours your courage and your determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”

Firestar rested his muzzle on Squirrelflight’s head, and she gave his shoulder a respectful lick. Determination was an unusual virtue to mention in the warrior ceremony; in Squirrelflight, it sometimes showed as stubbornness, and had led her close to trouble more than once. Brambleclaw wondered if father and daughter were remembering all the times they had clashed, when Squirrelflight’s fierce independence had brought her into conflict with her leader and the warrior code. But then, Brambleclaw reflected, there had been times on their journey when her determination and will to succeed had put fresh heart into all her companions. Pride flooded him as he remembered her tireless courage, her refusal to think they would ever fail to reach their journey’s end.

When she stepped away from Firestar, Leafpaw bounded up to her, greeting her by her new name. “Squirrelflight! Squirrelflight!”

Her call was taken up by the cats around them. Squirrelflight looked around, her green eyes shining with pride. All four Clans seemed pleased that she had been given her warrior name—but then, all four Clans had had plenty of opportunity to see how much she deserved it. As Brambleclaw thrust his way to her side he saw Tawnypelt and Crowfeather heading towards her, too. Those who had made the journey to Midnight’s cave would always have the most special bond with Squirrelflight.

“Congratulations,” Tawnypelt meowed, while Crowfeather nodded and rested his tail-tip on her shoulder for a moment.

Brambleclaw pressed his muzzle to hers. “Well done, Squirrelflight,” he murmured. “Mind you,” he added teasingly, “you’ll still have to pay attention to senior warriors.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes gleamed with wicked amusement. “You can’t order me around now—I’m not an apprentice anymore!”

“I can’t see that it will make much difference,” Dustpelt put in, overhearing her. “You never did as you were told anyway.”

Squirrelflight let out a mrrow of laughter and affectionately butted her former mentor on his shoulder. “I must have listened to something,” she meowed. She blinked, and added, “Really, thanks for everything, Dustpelt.”

The meows of welcome died down as Blackstar stepped forward and signalled with his tail for silence. “This is all very touching, but now we must find out about this new place so that we can start establishing our new territories. We’re going to send a patrol with one cat from each Clan to explore the lakeshore and the land around it.”

Brambleclaw’s ears pricked, and he felt Squirrelflight tense beside him, her pelt just brushing his. He caught Tawnypelt’s eye, and saw an answering gleam of anticipation.

“We decided to send three of the cats who made the first journey together,” Firestar went on. “Brambleclaw from ThunderClan, Crowfeather from WindClan, and Tawnypelt from ShadowClan.”

Excitement thrilled through Brambleclaw from ears to tail-tip. It felt right that the cats who had made the first journey should be chosen.

Blackstar curled his lip as Firestar named each cat, but didn’t argue.

“Huh!” Tawnypelt muttered. “It’s the first time he’s ever let me represent ShadowClan.”

Brambleclaw swept his tail soothingly over her shoulder. He knew that Blackstar was unlikely to forget that Tawnypelt had been born in ThunderClan, however hard she tried to prove she was a loyal warrior of ShadowClan.

“Mistyfoot will go for RiverClan,” meowed Leopardstar, speaking for the first time, and reminding Brambleclaw painfully that neither of the RiverClan cats who had made the journey was still with their Clan. A hollow place yawned inside him as he thought of Feathertail and Stormfur.

“But what about me?” Squirrelflight protested. “I went on the journey too. Why can’t I go on the patrol?”

“Because that would make two cats from ThunderClan,” Blackstar replied crushingly. Brambleclaw knew the ShadowClan leader was wrong if he thought that would silence Squirrelflight.

“A patrol of four cats isn’t enough to go into unknown territory,” she objected.

Blackstar opened his mouth to disagree, but Firestar spoke first. “She could be right,” he pointed out. “I think we should let her go. It could be her first warrior task. She can’t sit vigil tonight like other new warriors, as we have no proper camp.”

Blackstar glanced at Leopardstar, who twitched her tail, giving nothing away, and then at Mudclaw, who dipped his head. “WindClan has no objection,” he meowed.

“Very well,” Blackstar growled. “But don’t think for one moment that will give ThunderClan any extra rights over the territory.”

Brambleclaw exchanged an exasperated glance with Crowfeather. Trust Blackclaw to think that other Clans were trying to steal an advantage before the new territories had been divided up!

“Of course not,” Firestar replied evenly. “Squirrelflight, you may go with the patrol.”

Squirrelflight’s tail curled up in delight.

“Go all the way around the lake, and explore as much of the surrounding land as you can,” Firestar instructed. “We need to know what kind of territory it is, and where the best hunting places will be. Think about the different sorts of hunting each Clan will require, because it might help with setting boundaries later on. It would be good to get an idea of how the territory could be split up, and where might be good places for camps. And keep a close watch for Twolegs, or anything else that might be dangerous.”

“Is that all?” Crowfeather muttered.

“I reckon you’ll need two days to travel all the way around the lake,” Firestar went on. He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes as he peered across the water, trying to judge the distance. “Try not to spend too much time exploring. We’re exposed to danger while we stay here, so we need to get all the Clans settled as soon as we can.”

“We’ll do our best, Firestar,” a new voice called out. Brambleclaw glanced over his shoulder to see Mistyfoot, the RiverClan deputy, padding over to join them.

“Hi, there,” he mewed, moving up to make room for her. Mistyfoot looked wary about joining the close band of cats that had made the first journey.

“Good luck,” called Leopardstar, and Firestar added, “May StarClan go with you all.”

By now the sun had risen well above the hills. His paws itching to be off, Brambleclaw dipped his head towards Firestar and the other leaders, and raised his tail to signal the others to follow him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tawnypelt wince, and he heard a hissing intake of breath from Crowfeather. His fur prickled with embarrassment as he realised that Mistyfoot ought to be in charge of the patrol, since she was the deputy of her Clan. He stopped and took a pace back; Mistyfoot gave him a long, cool look, then nodded briefly to him as she took the lead.

“Mousebrain!” Squirrelflight whispered.

They headed for the edge of the lake, with Blackstar’s voice drifting behind them on the breeze as he began to arrange the hunting patrols.

“Squirrelflight! Wait!” Brambleclaw looked back to see Leafpaw bounding after her sister. “Be careful, won’t you?” she begged.

Squirrelflight touched noses with the young medicine cat. “Don’t worry about us,” she meowed. “We can look after ourselves.”

“But you’re as tired as the rest of us from the journey,” Leafpaw warned. “Hunt as soon as you can, and don’t stray too far from the lake or you might get lost.”

Squirrelflight brushed her tail across Leafpaw’s mouth to stop her. “We’ll be fine,” she insisted. She lifted her head and pointed with her nose to the gleaming stretch of water below them. “Look, you can see exactly where we’re going. We’ll be back before you know it.” She paused for a moment, then added quietly, “Have you had a sign from StarClan? Is that why you’re so worried?”

Leafpaw shook her head. “No, nothing like that, I promise. It’s just hard to let you go again. It feels too much like the first time you left, when you went to sun-drown-place.”

Brambleclaw went over and rested his muzzle against Leafpaw’s shoulder to comfort her. “And we came safely home, didn’t we? Trust me, Leafpaw, I’ll look after her.”

Squirrelflight jerked away in mock indignation. “I don’t need looking after! It’s more likely to be me watching out for your battered old fur!”

Leafpaw gave a purr of amusement, letting them lighten the mood. “Well, just take care, all of you. And if you have a chance to look out for any herbs, that would be great. Our medicine supplies will need refilling very soon.”

Squirrelflight licked her ear. “Sure. I’ll keep my eyes open—when I’m not looking for foxes, badgers, Twolegs, Thunderpaths. . .”

“Are we going or not?” growled Crowfeather. “We don’t have much daylight, and we need to get at least halfway around the lake before nightfall.”

Leafpaw ignored him. “StarClan go with you,” she murmured to Squirrelflight, before whisking around and bounding back up the slope.

Brambleclaw tasted the air and listened to the lapping of waves on the shore. The grey water was flooded with colour as the sun rose higher over the hills. It stretched ahead so far that the trees on the distant shore were nothing more than a greenish blur, and curved hungrily around the marshy land in front of them. Something about the stillness of the water, the silence that hung over it like mist, told Brambleclaw that it was much, much deeper than the river in the forest, even when it flooded. He gave Mistyfoot a swift sidelong glance. She looked daunted too, though like all RiverClan cats she was an excellent swimmer.

As if aware that his eyes were on her, the RiverClan deputy gave herself a shake. “Right,” she meowed, gazing around at the patrol. “This is it. Let’s see where StarClan has brought us.”

CHAPTER 2

Leafpaw stopped halfway up the slope and turned to watch her sister and the rest of the patrol make their way down to the lake. From the tingling of her own fur, she could tell how excited Squirrelflight was, not just at the prospect of exploring the new territory, but because she was with the friends she had made on the journey to sun-drown-place once more. For a few heartbeats Leafpaw felt almost breathless with envy, wishing that she could have a bond that strong, based on that depth of trust and that many shared experiences, with another cat.

Her gaze was drawn to the lean, grey-black shape of Crowfeather. Of all the others, he was the hardest to understand. Leafpaw wished she knew him better. He seemed the least willing to trust cats from another Clan, yet during the long journey through the mountains she had seen him put himself in danger over and over to help cats who weren’t from WindClan. Leafpaw’s pelt prickled, making her shiver from nose to tail. Something told her Crowfeather had an important path laid out by StarClan, but she had no idea where it might lead—nor was there any reason for StarClan to let her know the destiny of a cat from another Clan.

She jumped as something brushed against her shoulder, and turned to see Cinderpelt gazing at her with wise blue eyes.

“Do you wish you were going with them?” the medicine cat asked.

Leafpaw hesitated. She was a medicine cat, not a warrior—her duties lay with her weak and exhausted Clan. So why did she feel a tug in her paws to follow the little patrol that was padding away along the line of the shore? Her mind flooded with an image of bounding after them to walk alongside Crowfeather, who was bringing up the rear; she drew in her breath sharply, almost able to feel his dark grey pelt brush against hers as they picked their way over the tufts of boggy grass.

“Are you all right?” mewed Cinderpelt, looking at her closely.

Leafpaw blinked. “Yes, I’m fine. Of course I don’t want to go with the patrol. There’s enough work for me here.”

“That’s true,” Cinderpelt meowed. “We have four Clans of exhausted cats to look after, and our stock of healing herbs barely amounts to a couple of leaves and a pawful of crushed berries.”

Leafpaw gulped, suddenly wondering if she should have gone with the patrol after all to look for new supplies of medicine.

“We’re going to meet with the other medicine cats,” Cinderpelt went on. “We need to discuss what to do about finding new herbs, and how we are going to share tongues with our warrior ancestors when we are so far from Highstones.” She gazed up at the sky, where the half-moon drifted behind wisps of cloud, and her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I hope we find another Moonstone place soon.”

She gestured with her tail, and Leafpaw saw her friend Mothwing, the RiverClan medicine cat, sitting in the shelter of a bramble thicket with Littlecloud, the medicine cat from ShadowClan. Around them, warriors and apprentices from all four Clans were dividing into groups as the hunting patrols prepared to leave.

Cinderpelt waited until most of the patrols had gone before joining the other medicine cats. Leafpaw bounded over to touch noses with Mothwing.

Mothwing blinked nervously at her. “I feel so helpless!” she murmured into Leafpaw’s ear. “I have no supplies, and the cats are so tired and weak.”

Leafpaw wasn’t surprised that her friend was anxious. Although Mothwing had trained as a warrior and received her warrior name several seasons ago, she had not been a medicine cat apprentice for as long as Leafpaw. The death of Mudfur before they left the forest meant that she had to take on all the responsibilities of a medicine cat before she had finished her training. Leafpaw felt a wave of gratitude that Cinderpelt was still alive, and young and strong enough to live for many, many more moons. She was in no hurry to lose her mentor, and she didn’t envy Mothwing at all. But she reminded herself that Mothwing had been taught well, and she would be able to ask the other medicine cats for advice if she needed to. Besides, in this new place they would all have things to learn.

She gave Mothwing’s ear a quick lick. “You’ll be fine,” she promised. “We’ll all help you.”

Cinderpelt glanced around. “Where’s Barkface?”

“Still with Tallstar, I guess,” Littlecloud replied. He let out a sigh. “I’m not sure there’s much any cat can do for him now.”

Leafpaw flinched. It didn’t seem fair that StarClan should summon the WindClan leader to join them when he hadn’t even seen his Clan’s new home.

“Here he comes now.” Cinderpelt twitched her ears to where Barkface was approaching with his head bowed and his tail trailing.

“How is Tallstar?” Littlecloud demanded.

Barkface heaved a sigh from the depths of his belly as he flopped down under the brambles beside the other medicine cats. “Sleeping,” he replied. “He is very weak. The journey has been too much for him, and it is clear that StarClan is waiting for him to join them.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Leafpaw meowed.

Barkface shook his head. “We may have travelled all the way from the forest, but Tallstar has a longer journey than all of us ahead of him. He has been a noble leader, but he cannot go on forever.”

“All the Clans will honour him,” Cinderpelt murmured. She bowed her head for a moment and then straightened up, giving her fur a shake. “Meanwhile there are tasks that we must do.”

“We need to look for herbs,” Mothwing meowed. “Disease could spread easily when we’re all tired and hungry.”

“True,” replied Cinderpelt. “Soon we’ll go and search, and hope that StarClan leads us to what we need. But before that.. . .” Her voice trailed off, and she scratched at the ground with her forepaw before she went on. “There may be a patrol out looking for new camps for each Clan, but we need more than that if this is to be our home. Where are the Clans going to gather at full moon? What about the Moon stone? It’s many days’ journey from here to Mothermouth.”

Leafpaw’s paws ached at the thought of retracing her steps along all the weary paths they had followed since they left Highstones. Surely it would be impossible to travel there every half moon to meet with StarClan? But where would new leaders go now to receive their names and their nine lives?

There was a long pause. None of the cats had the answer—or knew where to suggest looking.

“Are we sure this is the right place?” Littlecloud mewed at last. “Without the Moonstone, the only way we can reach StarClan is through dreams and signs, and I’ve seen nothing to reassure me that this is where we are supposed to be.”

“It must be right,” Leafpaw pleaded. She struggled to think how she could make the other medicine cats believe her, when they were so much more experienced than she was. “Stoneteller met with his Tribe’s warrior ancestors in the Cave of Pointed Stones,” she added, remembering their visit to the Tribe of Rushing Water. “So maybe there are other places like the Moonstone.”

“I believe that StarClan sent us a sign when we saw their reflections shining in the lake,” Cinderpelt mewed, and Leafpaw felt the fur on her shoulders lie down in her relief. “But we still need a place where we can share tongues with them.”

“Maybe they’ll send us a sign to tell us where we can find another Moonstone,” Barkface suggested.

“Maybe.” Littlecloud sounded dubious. “I just hope it’s soon, that’s all.”

“But does it really matter?” Mothwing asked. “I mean, there’s nothing to stop us from finding the right herbs, and. . .”

Her voice died away as the other medicine cats stared at her in astonishment. Leafpaw winced; how could Mothwing believe that the only task of a medicine cat was to heal?

Mothwing’s gaze flicked from one cat to the next, uncertainty and embarrassment in her eyes.

“Mothwing means we can carry on looking after our Clanmates while we wait for StarClan to speak to us,” Leafpaw meowed helpfully.

Mothwing turned to her in relief. “Yes—yes, that’s right.”

Cinderpelt’s ears twitched.

“I suppose we could start restocking our supplies,” meowed Littlecloud.

Barkface heaved himself to his paws. “If you don’t mind, I ought to stay with Tallstar. But I’d be grateful for some coltsfoot, if you can find it. He’s having trouble breathing.”

“There’ll be no coltsfoot leaves until newleaf,” Mothwing pointed out anxiously. “Would juniper berries do as well?”

Barkface nodded. “Quite right. Thanks, Mothwing.”

“We’ll bring you some,” Cinderpelt promised.

With a brief grunt of thanks, Barkface padded to the clump of grass where Tallstar lay, an unmoving heap of black and white fur. Leafpaw saw him exchange a word or two with Onewhisker, who was keeping vigil beside his dying leader. Then he settled down with his flank touching Tallstar’s, letting the old cat know that he would not be alone as he began his long, dark journey.

“Well done, Mothwing!” Leafpaw mewed. “I didn’t think of using juniper berries instead.”

Mothwing turned her head to give Leafpaw’s ear a quick lick. “Where shall we go first?”

Cinderpelt stood up stiffly, favouring the leg she had injured long ago on the Thunderpath. “If we go that way,” she began, gesturing with her tail, “we’ll end up in the Twoleg horseplace. I think we should head the opposite way, closer to the lake.”

“Firestar says it’s boggy there,” Leafpaw reminded her.

“There’s all sorts of good stuff growing in bogs,” meowed Mothwing. She gave Leafpaw a gentle flick around the ear with her tail. “If you were a RiverClan cat, you wouldn’t mind getting your paws wet!”

“And I wouldn’t mind catching a frog or a toad to eat,” mewed Littlecloud. When the other cats glanced at him in surprise, he added defensively, “They don’t taste that bad! There were always plenty in ShadowClan’s territory, even when the rest of the prey was scarce.”

As they drew nearer to the lake the tough moorland grass gave way to sedge and moss. The ground was spongy, and water oozed up around Leafpaw’s paws at every step.

“I hope it’s not all like this,” she muttered to herself, pausing to shake droplets of water from each paw. Looking ahead, she saw that although this stretch of marshland reached right down to the lake, trees were growing on the bank further around, and in the distance a wooded tongue of land stretched out into the water. That might be a good place for a camp, she thought.

She broke into a run to catch up the others, and found them standing beside a large clump of horsetail; further away were more clumps of the big, healthy plants. Leafpaw’s spirits rose.

“This is excellent,” Cinderpelt meowed. “It never grew as well as this in our old territory. We’ll collect some on our way back. Leafpaw, what is it used for?”

Leafpaw wasn’t sure she liked being questioned in front of the other medicine cats as if she had barely started her training, but at least she knew the answer. “Infected wounds,” she answered promptly.

“That’s right,” meowed Littlecloud. “And we’re going to need it. The cats have picked up all kinds of scratches and scrapes on the journey.”

Cinderpelt nodded. “We must remember where to find it.”

She set off again, and the other cats followed. Leafpaw was pleased when she was the first to spot a clump of water mint, one of the best cures for bellyache.

“But we’re never going to find Barkface’s juniper berries down here,” Mothwing pointed out, leaping over a tiny stream. “It’s much too wet.”

“Why don’t you and Leafpaw head away from the shore?” Cinderpelt suggested. “I can see bushes over there. Some of them might be juniper.”

“Sure.” Mothwing swerved away from the water, heading towards the ridge they had crossed on the previous night. Leafpaw followed close behind, relieved to feel drier, harder ground under her paws.

When they reached the higher ground, they pushed their way into a sheltered thicket of trees. Leafpaw quickly recognised the spiky dark leaves and purple berries of juniper bushes among the undergrowth.

“Just what we need,” she mewed happily, beginning to bite off some of the stems.

When they had collected as much juniper as they could carry, they turned back towards the lake. Emerging from the trees, Leafpaw spotted the tiny, indistinct figures of Cinderpelt and Littlecloud in the distance, following the water’s edge. From up here, she realised that what she had thought was a wooded spur of land stretching out into the lake was actually an island, separated from the shore by a narrow channel of water.

“Look!” she meowed to Mothwing. “There’s an island in the lake.”

The young medicine cat’s eyes shone. “That would make a great place for a Gathering!” she exclaimed. “It’s big enough for all the Clans, and nothing would disturb us there. Let’s go down and tell the others.” Snatching up her collection of juniper stems, she bounded off towards Cinderpelt and Little cloud.

Leafpaw picked up her own stems and followed more slowly. Mothwing hadn’t given her the chance to point out that only RiverClan cats felt confident about swimming, and none of the other Clans would be able to reach the island. It was a pity, because Mothwing was right: the island would be a perfect place for all the Clans to meet, safe from predators and Twolegs.

When she reached the others, Mothwing was excitedly telling them about the island. All four cats padded down to the edge of the lake to have a closer look. The ground was drier here, falling away into a rocky shore with a few tough thorns rooted in cracks.

“It looks safe enough,” meowed Cinderpelt, “but how would we get there? Do you fancy telling the elders that they have to swim every time they want to go to a Gathering?”

Littlecloud gave a snort of amusement, and Mothwing looked wounded.