Warriors AU: The Darkest Hour

Chapter 3

Something was prodding Sandstorm in the side. With a muffled mew of protest he opened his eyes to see Cinderpelt stooping over him.

"You dozed off," he murmured. "But you'll have to wake up now. It's time to bury Oakstar."

Sandstorm staggered to his paws. He flexed each stiff leg in turn and passed his dry tongue over his lips. He felt as if he had been crouching in the clearing for a moon at least. The sense of comfort he had felt as he slept was replaced by a wave of guilt.

"Did any cat see?" he muttered to Cinderpelt.

The medicine cat's blue eyes glimmered with sympathy. "Only me. Don't worry about it, Sandstorm. No cat would blame you after what happened yesterday."

Sandstorm glanced around the clearing. The pale light of dawn was just beginning to seep through the trees. A few tail-lengths away the elders had assembled to carry out their duty of bearing Oakstar's body to the burial place. The rest of the Clan were slowly emerging from their dens, forming two lines between Oakstar's body and the entrance to the gorse tunnel.

At a nod from Cinderpelt, the elders took up the body and carried Oakstar between the rows of her grieving warriors. Every cat lowered his head as their leader was borne past.

"Good-bye, Oakstar," Sandstorm murmured. "I'll never forget you." Sharp thorns of pain pierced his heart when he saw the tip of her tail scoring a furrow in the blackened leaves that still lay on the ground after the recent fire.

When Oakstar had vanished with her escort, the rest of the cats began to disperse. Sandstorm checked the camp, noticing with approval that the pile of fresh-kill had been stocked up. All he needed to do was send out the dawn patrol; then he could eat and rest. He felt as if a moon of sleep would not be enough to banish the exhaustion from his paws.

"Well, Sandstorm," meowed Cinderpelt. "Are you ready?"

Sandstorm turned, puzzled. "Ready?"

"To go to the Moonstone to receive your nine lives from Starclan." The tip of Cinderpelt's tail twitched. "Sandstorm, surely you hadn't forgotten?"

Sandstorm shuffled his paws uneasily. Of course he hadn't forgotten the ancient ceremony to initiate all new Clan leaders, but somehow he hadn't realized that it would take place right away. He felt dazed by the speed with which everything was happening, bearing him forward relentlessly like the swift waters of the gorge that had almost drowned him.

Fear rose in his throat and he had to swallow quickly. No leader ever spoke of the mystic rite, so no other cat, except for the medicine cat's, knew what happened there. Sandstorm had visited the Moonstone before and watched Oakstar share tongues with Starclan in her sleep. That experience had been awe-inspiring enough. He could not imagine what would happen when he had to lie beside the sacred stone himself and share dreams with his warrior ancestors.

On top of this, he knew that Highstones, where the Moonstone lay in a cavern far underground, was a whole day's journey away, and the ritual demanded that he not eat beforehand, not even the strengthening herbs that other cats took for the journey.

"Starclan will give you strength," meowed Cinderpelt, as if he had read his thoughts.

Sandstorm muttered in vague agreement. Glancing around, he spotted Brindleface on his way to the warriors' den and summoned the older warrior with a flick of his tail.

"I've got to go to Highstones," he meowed. "Will you take charge of the camp? We'll need a dawn patrol."

"Consider it done," promised Brindleface, and added, "Starclan go with you, Sandstorm."