DAWN. Erin Hunter
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up the trees, and there was no sign of Leafpaw.” Cinderpelt stepped forwards and pressed her cheek against Squirrelpaw’s. “It wasn’t safe to look for her after that,” she murmured. Squirrelpaw pulled away, but Cinderpelt stared intently into her eyes, and she felt as if the medicine cat were willing her to understand.
“Your father had to think of the whole Clan,” she meowed. “He couldn’t risk putting more cats in danger to search for Leafpaw.” She looked away, and Squirrelpaw heard bitter regret in her voice as she went on. “I wanted to go out looking myself, but I knew I’d be no use.” She glanced furiously at her hind leg, weakened by an old injury on the Thunderpath. Cinderpelt knew only too well the damage that Twoleg monsters could do to cats’ fragile bodies.
For the first time Squirrelpaw noticed how the medicine cat’s pelt seemed to hang from her, showing the sharpness of bone beneath.
Brambleclaw must have noticed too. “How is the Clan managing?” he asked.
“Not well,” Cinderpelt admitted. “Larchkit died—Ferncloud couldn’t make enough milk to feed her. Prey has been so scarce, we’ve all gone hungry.” Grief made her voice tremble. “Dappletail’s dead too. She ate a rabbit that Twolegs had poisoned to get rid of WindClan.” A look of alarm flashed in her eyes. “You haven’t eaten any rabbits, have you?”
“We haven’t seen any rabbits,” Stormfur replied. “Not even in WindClan territory.”
Cinderpelt lashed her tail. “The Twolegs have ruined everything! Brightheart and Cloudtail are missing as well—we think they were captured by Twoleg traps, like Leafpaw was.”
Brambleclaw dropped his gaze to the cold, muddy ground. “I didn’t think it could be this bad!” he murmured. “Midnight warned us, but . . .” Squirrelpaw wished she could comfort him. But there was nothing she could do or say to make him feel better.
Cinderpelt was staring at Brambleclaw in confusion. “Midnight warned you?” she echoed. “What do you mean?”
“Midnight is a badger,” Squirrelpaw explained. “That’s who we went to see.”
“You went to see a badger?” Cinderpelt glanced around as if she expected to see a ferocious black-and-white-striped face appear through the undergrowth behind them.
Squirrelpaw could understand her reaction. Badgers had never been trusted by cats; they were notoriously bad-tempered, unpredictable creatures. Squirrelpaw and her travelling companions had taken a while to get over the shock when they discovered exactly who they had been sent to meet.
“At sun-drown-place,” Squirrelpaw went on.
“I don’t understand,” murmured Cinderpelt.
“StarClan sent us there,” put in Stormfur. “One cat from each Clan.”
“They told us to go to the place where the sun falls into the sea at night,” Brambleclaw added.
“StarClan sent you there?” Cinderpelt gasped. “I . . . we thought they had deserted us.” She stared at Brambleclaw. “StarClan spoke to you?”
“In a dream,” Brambleclaw admitted quietly.
Stormfur was kneading the ground, his fur ruffled. “Feathertail had the same dream.”
“And Crowpaw and Tawnypelt,” Squirrelpaw added.
Cinderpelt stared at the three cats, her eyes wide. “You must come and tell Firestar everything. We have heard nothing from StarClan since they sent the message about fire and tiger.”
“Fire and tiger?” Squirrelpaw echoed, mystified.
“You’ll learn about it soon enough.” Cinderpelt didn’t meet her gaze. “Come back with me now. The Clan needs to hear your story.”
“Sunningrocks was the safest place to hide,” Cinderpelt told them as she weaved through the bracken.
Squirrelpaw was surprised. “But there’s so little shelter there!” Sunningrocks was a wide stone slope near the RiverClan border, bare of trees or bushes except for a few scrubby tufts of grass. Aware that Stormfur was only a few pawsteps behind, Squirrelpaw lowered her voice. “And what about RiverClan? They’ve tried to claim it as their territory before—wasn’t Firestar afraid they might attack the Clan?”
“RiverClan has made no threats lately,” Cinderpelt replied. “Sunningrocks is as far from the Twolegs and their tree-destroying monsters as we could get within our territory, and close to what little prey is left in the forest.”
Despite her limp, she led them quickly through the forest, but Squirrelpaw noticed that the medicine cat’s scrawny flanks heaved with the effort. She glanced at Brambleclaw. He was watching Cinderpelt too, his eyes narrowed with concern.
“We’re in much better shape than she is,” Squirrelpaw whispered to him.
“Our journey has made us stronger,” Brambleclaw commented.
Squirrelpaw felt an uncomfortable pang of guilt that their long and difficult journey had kept them safer and better fed than the cats they left behind. The sun was sinking in a clear blue sky, and a chill wind swayed the branches above them, tugging at the last stubborn leaves. She paused, listening. A few birds chirped a muted chorus, but in the distance she heard monsters all the time, humming like angry bees. Their sticky stench hung in the air and clung to her fur, and Squirrelpaw realised that she had returned to a forest that no longer smelled or sounded like home. It had become another place, one where cats could not survive. No place left for cats. You stay, monsters tear you too, or you starve with no prey. Midnight’s prophecy was already coming true.
The pale grey bulk of Sunningrocks loomed beyond the trees, and Squirrelpaw made out the shapes of cats moving over the stone.
A yowl startled her, and she saw white and ginger fur flashing through the undergrowth. A heartbeat later, Sorreltail and Brackenfur burst out of the bushes in front of them.
“I thought I could smell a familiar scent,” Sorreltail meowed breathlessly.
Squirrelpaw stared at the two warriors. They were as dishevelled as Cinderpelt, and beside her, Brambleclaw’s eyes were wide with shock as his gaze flicked over their gaunt bodies.
“We didn’t think you were coming back,” Brackenfur meowed.
“Of course we were coming back!” Squirrelpaw protested.
“Where have you been?” Sorreltail demanded.
“A long way away,” Stormfur murmured. “Further than any forest cat has ever been.”
Brackenfur glared suspiciously at the RiverClan warrior. “Are you on your way home?”
“I need to talk to Greystripe first.”
Brackenfur narrowed his eyes.
“Let him come,” Cinderpelt advised. “These cats have a lot to tell us.”
Brackenfur’s whiskers twitched, but he dipped his head and turned to lead the way through the trees towards the rocks.
“Come on,” Sorreltail mewed, padding after Brackenfur. “The others will want to see you.”
Squirrelpaw fell into step beside her, trying to ignore the anxiety that gnawed her stomach like hunger pangs. It was starting to look as if their journey had been in vain, and hearing what Midnight had to tell them had come too late to help the Clans. She prayed that the dying warrior’s sign would be enough to save them. Glancing sideways at Sorreltail, she saw that the tortoiseshell warrior’s tail was drooping and her gaze rested wearily on the ground.
“Cinderpelt told me about Leafpaw,” Squirrelpaw murmured.
“I