Moonrise

Chapter 16

Stormfur's legs ached and the weight of his rain-sodden fur made his paws stumble painfully over the stones. He felt as if he had been fleeing through the stormy darkness for moons. The whole world seemed to have shrunk to nothing more than rock, wind, and rain.

As he scrabbled up a broken rock face he realized that the rain was easing off. Soon it was no more than a spatter driven by the wind. The sky began to clear, the moon struggling to show its light between the clouds.

Brambletuft halted, and the rest of the cats gathered around him. They were standing on a wide ledge; above them was a slope covered with scree, while below the rock fell away into darkness.

"I have no idea where we are," Brambletuft admitted. "I'm sorry, I meant to bring you back the same way we came with the cave-guards, but I've never seen this place before."

"It's not your fault," Squirrelpaw meowed, awfully subdued. "The rain has washed all the scent away, and it's too dark to see anything."

"That's all very well," Tawnypelt pointed out, "but what are we going to do now? If we're not careful, the Tribe cats will catch us."

"Or Sharptooth," Feathertail added with a shudder.

Stormfur cleared his throat. He was feeling guilty and betrayed that he had thought of the Tribe cats as his friends, and he wanted to forget them and everything to do with them as soon as he possibly could. But they had taught him skills that could be useful now, and it would be fish-brained not to use them.

"I think I can find the way," he meowed. "I hunted with the Tribe, more than the rest of you."

"You lead, then," Brambletuft responded immediately. "Just get us out of these mountains."

Stormfur warmed a little at the ThunderClan warrior's trust in him. He wouldn't have been surprised if he had lost all of Brambletuft's respect, after the way he had settled in among the Tribe cats. He knew now how much Brambletuft's meant to him.

"It'll take a few days to cross the mountains," he warned the tabby warrior, remembering how Small Brook had once taken him to the top of a high peak and shown him the towering folds of rock stretching endlessly ahead. At least they would have the rising sun to guide them when daylight came. "But I think I can get you out of the Tribe's territory."

"The sooner the better," muttered Crowpaw. He was standing so close to Squirrelpaw that their fur touched. There seemed to be an unspoken connection between them, and Stormfur wondered what all had happened while he was stuck in the cave.

Stormfur took the lead along the ledge and then diagonally up the scree, his paws slipping on the loose stones. Reaching the ridge, he paused to figure out the direction from the way the moss grew on the rocks and the trunk of a gnarled tree. Guilt swept over him again as he realized how easy it seemed to use Tribe ways, as if he had allowed himself to become a Tribe cat instead of a loyal warrior to RiverClan.

"What's the matter?" Feathertail asked quietly, coming up to him and brushing her side against his. He should have known she would be able to sense how bad he felt.

"I trusted them." Stormfur choked over the words. "Small Brook and Sharp Cliff and the others. I never thought. . . And then they took me prisoner, and the rest of you risked your lives to get me out of there."

"We couldn't leave you." Feathertail let out a comforting purr.

"They never told me anything about the prophecy, you know, not all the time we were hunting together. It was just as much of a shock to me when Stoneteller told us about it in the Cave of Pointed Stones."

"Yes, we know," his sister murmured.

"But do we have to stand here talking about it?" Crowpaw demanded disagreeably as he joined them on the ridge. "Let's just get moving."