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.
“Maybe it’s shallow enough to wade,” Leafpaw suggested diplomatically, though she wasn’t keen on finding out.
“I could swim over there and have a look,” Mothwing offered.
Cinderpelt nodded. “If you want to.”
Mothwing didn’t need any more encouragement to launch herself down the rocks towards the water.
“Be careful!” Leafpaw called after her.
Her friend waved her tail in acknowledgment before wading out into the lake. Soon the water reached her belly fur and she had to swim, pushing through the water with strong, confident strokes. So it wasn’t possible to wade all the way to the island, Leafpaw thought. She narrowed her eyes against the sunlight reflected in the water as she tracked the small dark head bobbing through the waves.
Behind her Littlecloud meowed, “Why don’t we hunt while we’re waiting? I’m so hungry I could eat a badger!”
His words made Leafpaw conscious of her own grumbling belly, but she did not move until she had seen Mothwing reach the shore of the island; she pulled herself out of the water and waved her tail cheerfully at Leafpaw before vanishing among the bushes.
Leafpaw turned away just in time to see Littlecloud pounce on a vole and crouch down to devour it in swift bites. She couldn’t help feeling relieved that he hadn’t found a frog or a toad after all, in case he had offered her some. It would have been rude to say no, but Leafpaw didn’t think she was quite hungry enough to eat something that looked so tough and unappetizing.
A little way off, Cinderpelt was stalking something in the long grass that grew at the foot of the rocks. A heartbeat later she made her kill and beckoned to Leafpaw with her tail. “Come on. Mothwing will be fine. There’s plenty of prey over there.”
Leafpaw cast another glance back at the island, but there was no sign of the RiverClan medicine cat, and nothing Leafpaw could do to help her. Padding softly up to the nearest tumble of rocks, she heard the scuffling of a tiny creature and froze. A grass stem twitched aside to reveal another vole scrabbling among the fallen seeds underneath. Leafpaw crept forward, hardly lifting her paws from the rough ground. Once she was in range she leaped, and dispatched her prey with one swift bite to the neck.
Leafpaw couldn’t remember when she had last seen such a plump vole. The prey that remained in the forest after the Twolegs started to tear it up had been scrawny and terrified, and opportunities for hunting on the journey here had been limited.
She was just finishing the last, satisfying bite when Littlecloud called, “Mothwing’s coming back!”
Leafpaw swallowed her mouthful and dashed down to the water’s edge. Mothwing was swimming strongly towards the shore, and soon she waded out to stand on dry ground and shake the water from her pelt.
“Well?” Cinderpelt demanded. “What did you find?”
Mothwing let out a gusty sigh. “It’s perfect! Trees and bushes grow all around the edge, but in the middle there’s an open stretch of grass. There’d be room for all the Clans to gather there.”
Littlecloud shook his head. “RiverClan maybe, but you’d never get the other three Clans to join you.” His tone was worried as he added, “Some cats with more courage than sense would drown if they tried.”
“And right in the middle of the open space,” Mothwing went on enthusiastically, as if Littlecloud hadn’t spoken, “there’s this huge oak tree. As big as the oaks at Fourtrees, but it has low-growing branches, so the leaders could climb up there to address the Clans.” Her blue eyes shone. “I wish we could use it!”
“Well, we can’t,” Cinderpelt said regretfully. “Although you’re right, Mothwing; it sounds ideal. Thanks for checking it out.”
“There’s prey, too.” Mothwing swiped her tongue over her jaws.
Leafpaw wanted to ask Mothwing if she had noticed anything unusual about the island, like a strange-shaped rock or a twisted tree, anything that would suggest the presence of StarClan. Perhaps the island wasn’t meant for Gatherings, but there might be a new Moonstone there.
But once it was clear that the other medicine cats wouldn’t agree that the island could be used for Gatherings, Mothwing had turned away. She was padding up the beach with her tail drooping, tired out from her swim. Leafpaw decided she would ask her another time about the possibility of a Moonstone on the island.
The rest of the medicine cats began to make their way back to the temporary camp as well. Leafpaw followed last of all, with a regretful glance over her shoulder at the island. The Clans needed a place to gather and a new Moonstone as much as they needed safe, sheltered camps with plenty of prey. The gathering place and the Moonstone would be the home of the fifth Clan that had been forced to leave the forest—StarClan.
Leafpaw shivered, even though reeds sheltered her from the cold breeze coming off the lake. Unless they found these places quickly, the Clans’ future in their new territory was filled with shadows of doubt.
CHAPTER 3 (#ulink_aa4d1359-3f29-57a1-a7ef-135b534223b5)
Mistyfoot led the patrol across the marshy shore at a steady trot. Brambleclaw breathed deeply, tasting the prey-scented air and basking in the warmth of the pale winter sun on his fur. His paws itched to bound ahead, but he forced himself to keep to the pace Mistyfoot had set, knowing they had a long way to go.
“This is no good,” Squirrelflight grumbled as she slipped into yet another boggy hollow. She stopped and flicked water from her hindpaw with a disgusted expression on her face. “We’ll all end up with webbed feet if we live here.”
“It might not be so bad for RiverClan,” Mistyfoot replied. “But there won’t be much prey on ground like this, so it wouldn’t be much use.”
“We don’t have to use all the territory around the lake,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “There’s plenty of space, so it doesn’t matter if no cat wants this bit.”
“As long as there’s something better up ahead,” Crowfeather added.
Brambleclaw paused to scan the land around them. On one side the land rose steeply to a ridge of hills. The Twoleg fence and the horses were behind them now, and beyond that the grassland sloped up until it vanished beneath a thick growth of gorse and other bushes. Ahead, the swampy ground stretched along the lakeshore. In the distance Brambleclaw could see a wooded spur of ground jutting out into the lake, and more trees right ahead.
“It looks as if we’ll be out of the marshes soon,” he meowed.
“Can’t we climb the hill, Brambleclaw?” Squirrelflight asked. “Please. I’m sick of wet feet.”
“There’ll be prey up there, too,” Tawnypelt mewed longingly. “What do you say, Brambleclaw? We need to hunt.”
“We’re supposed to be patrolling the lake,” Brambleclaw replied.
“And the territory around it,” Crowfeather reminded him.
“I suppose we could make a few forays away from the lake,” Brambleclaw meowed thoughtfully. “We won’t learn much if we stick to the shore the whole time. Let’s start by heading up to the ridge. We’ll hunt on the way, and—”
A quiet cough interrupted him, and Brambleclaw felt his fur prickle as he met Mistyfoot’s level stare. “S-sorry, Mistyfoot,” he stammered. “I mean, if that’s OK with you.”
Amusement glimmered in the RiverClan deputy’s eyes. “Look, Brambleclaw, maybe it’s best if you lead. These cats are obviously used to taking orders from you.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Brambleclaw felt even more embarrassed. “We discussed things, mostly, when we were on our journey.”
“He means we argued,” Tawnypelt meowed dryly. “At least, some of us argued.” She gave a hard look at Squirrelflight and Crowfeather.
“What, us?” Squirrelflight’s eyes opened wide and her tail curled up. “Never!”
Stifling a mrrow of laughter, Brambleclaw led the way up the slope to the drier ground. He thanked StarClan that Mistyfoot understood that they had fallen into a habit of organising themselves on their journey, without the typical Clan hierarchy of leaders and deputies and senior warriors. It felt good to be travelling with his friends again, though he felt Stormfur’s absence like a thorn pricking his flank. He wondered what it would be like when the Clans separated and he lost his easy friendship with Crowfeather and Tawnypelt. Would the empty place inside him go on growing forever?
There was prey among the bushes further up the slope, and it did not take long for all five cats to hunt successfully and settle down to a good meal.
“Mmm . . .” Squirrelflight murmured, lying on her side and splaying out her paws in a luxurious stretch. “That was the tastiest mouse I’ve eaten in moons. Now I could do with a good, long sleep.”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Brambleclaw prodded her with his paw. “We’ve got a long way to go, and we need to get as far around the lake as we can in daylight.”
“All right, keep your fur on.” Squirrelflight scrambled up, her green eyes teasing. “You’re such a bossy old furball. Don’t forget I’m a warrior now!” She whisked around him, flicking him with her tail.
