Moonrise

Chapter 21

This was madness, sheer madness. The words echoed to the thud of Stormfur's paws as he allowed Sharp Cliff and another cave-guard to escort him back into the cave behind the waterfall. The other forest cats were ushered in close behind him, with more guards on either side, while Swooping Talon and his fellow outlaws brought up the rear. A patrol had spotted them as soon as they reached the river; Stormfur was pretty sure they were prisoners now rather than guests, and he did not know what the Tribe cats would do to them. They had fought their way out two nights before, so it was reasonable to expect hostility. Swooping Talon and his friends were taking an even bigger risk, because they had been ordered not to come back until Sharptooth was dead.

The first rays of glimmering moonlight were creeping through the sheet of water at the cave entrance, and soon Sharptooth would be on the prowl. Stormfur was not even sure that he could make the Tribe listen to Squirrelpaw's plan. As he sought inside himself for courage, Silverstream's scent drifted faintly around him. Stormfur glanced back, wondering if Feathertail could sense it, too. His sister was just behind him, her blue eyes troubled. But none of them had flinched when the cave-guards swarmed out from behind the rocks, as well hidden as ever by their mud-streaked fur. Stormfur felt humbled by his friends' bravery, by their loyalty to him and to the warrior code even this far away from the forest. He knew they would do whatever it took to help the Tribe, or die trying.

Stoneteller had clearly been warned of their arrival, and was waiting for them in the middle of the main cave. Under his coating of mud, Stormfur could see that a slice of his fur had been torn away in the fight against Sharptooth, and he had a raw wound across one ear.

Stormfur strode over to him and laid at his feet the piece of prey he had carried all the way through the mountains: a mountain hare, its pelt just beginning to turn white for leaf-bare.

"What's this?" Stoneteller's voice was cold, and his eyes were hostile. "Why have you come back?"

"To help you defeat Sharptooth," Stormfur replied.

His heart began to pound even faster when he saw neither welcome nor relief in the Healer's expression. "And just what do you think you can do?"

His gaze swept around the cavern; following it, Stormfur saw the Tribe creeping out of the shadows. They looked curious but wary. The friendship they had begun to show toward the cats had been scorched by the shock of Sharptooth's attack, and Stormfur's failure to save them in spite of their warrior ancestors' promise. Like Stoneteller, many of them bore raw scars or limped heavily from fresh wounds. Stormfur searched for Small Brook, but could not see her.

A loud mewling broke out from the crowd and Stormfur turned sharply to see Shining Snow and Wild Snow bounding toward Squirrelpaw. The dark ginger apprentice quickly gave her brother the leaf bundle, crouching down to greet the kits who must be grieving for their mother.

"Sharptooth took Shadowed Wings, Muddy Clouds, and Owl's Ear yesterday," Stoneteller growled. "Many cats were injured as we tried to drive him out. Two have already died, and two others lie on the border of the Tribe of Endless Hunting. You didn't help us then. You ran away."

His contempt struck Stormfur like a claw. Even worse was the murmur of agreement from the gathering Tribe, as if they had felt betrayed by his flight, just as he had felt betrayed when they made him a prisoner. He heard a hostile hiss from one of the Clan cats—he guessed it was Crowpaw—and hoped that the apprentice would keep quiet.

"I didn't believe I was the promised cat," he meowed honestly. "And I didn't like being trapped in the Cave of Pointed Stones. But since I escaped, I've been thinking. . . and I've come back freely. Even if I'm not the cat who was named in the prophecy, I'll do all I can to help."