Erin Hunter - Sunset

“No!” Brambleclaw yowled. “Remember the truce!”

He hurled himself forward, trying to thrust his way between the battling cats, aware that all around him more fights were breaking out. Fastening his teeth into Cedarheart’s shoulder, he tried to haul him off Dustpelt, but another cat landed on his back and knocked him off his paws.

As Brambleclaw went down in a sea of fighting warriors, he heard Firestar’s voice raised in a furious yowl.

“Stop! This is not the will of StarClan!”

Leafpool flattened herself to the ground as fighting surged across the clearing. Horror froze her limbs and made her fur bristle. She couldn’t believe that any cat would dare to break StarClan’s truce. Then she remembered her dream of sticky scarlet waves washing up on the lakeshore. It was true! There could be no peace until blood had spilled blood.

The clearing was full of spitting, clawing cats. Leafpool tried vainly to spot Crowfeather, terrified that he would be badly injured. She heard her father call out, but his words of command were lost among the screeches of the rival Clans.

“StarClan help us!” she prayed.

As if the spirits of her warrior ancestors had heard her plea, a shadow fell across the clearing and the silver wash of moonlight faded. Looking up, Leafpool saw that a cloud had drifted over the moon, hiding it completely. The shrieks of battle began to fade, or changed to yowls of terror. Some cats stopped fighting and crouched motionless, staring at the threatening sky.

“Look!” It was too dark to see which cat had cried out, but Leafpool recognized the voice of Barkface, the WindClan medicine cat. “StarClan are angry! This must be a sign that the boundaries should stay where they are.”

In spite of the authority with which the old medicine cat spoke, several voices were raised in screeches of protest.

Firestar’s yowl drowned them all out. Leafpool could just make him out in the glitter of starshine, standing on an over-hanging branch.

“Barkface is right!” he called. “StarClan have shown their will.

The boundaries will stay as they are. The Gathering is over!”

“The next RiverClan cat to raise a paw will answer to me,” Leopardstar added, balanced commandingly on her branch.

“Every cat go home, now .”

“That goes for WindClan too,” meowed Onestar, raking the clearing with a furious gaze.

Blackstar let out a hiss. “This isn’t over,” he snarled.

“No, it’s not!” another cat called out; peering into the darkness, Leafpool could just make out the massive tabby shape of Hawkfrost. “We’ll discuss it again at the next Gathering.”

That’s not your decision , Leafpool thought. Hawkfrost was already behaving as if he were Clan leader, and he wasn’t even a deputy. Her mistrust of him made her fur stand on end, even more when she wondered just how much influence he had over his half brother, Brambleclaw.

To her relief, the last of the battle was over. Cats broke apart, licking their wounds and glaring at each other. The leaders leaped down from the Great Oak and began to gather their Clans together.

Leafpool struggled through the shifting mass of cats, all trying to find their Clanmates for the journey home. She couldn’t leave without speaking to Mothwing.

Heavystep was dead! When Leafpool had decided not to take Mudfur’s message about the catmint to RiverClan, she had comforted herself with the thought that Mothwing would find it anyway, or that the elder would recover without it. It’s my fault he died .

And what about the dream Mothwing had reported? The dream of two pebbles in a stream? If she had really started to believe in StarClan and receive signs from them, Mudfur wouldn’t have needed Leafpool to take his message. He could have told Mothwing himself. But he hadn’t—which meant Mothwing had lied in front of the whole Gathering.

Leafpool couldn’t imagine why her friend would do that.

What quarrel did she have with Stormfur and Brook, that she would try to drive them out of RiverClan? Leafpool remembered the tension between Mothwing and Hawkfrost, and how keen Hawkfrost had been for his sister to speak out in front of every cat. Could this have been his idea? And if Hawkfrost had tried to coerce Mothwing into lying, why would she go along with him? She was a loyal medicine cat, and had refused to tell Leopardstar about any of Leafpool’s dreams before now because she hated lying.

Pushing determinedly between a couple of WindClan warriors, Leafpool spotted Mothwing crouching in the shelter of a root of the Great Oak with Willowpaw, as if she had been protecting her apprentice from the battle. But before Leafpool could reach her friend, Hawkfrost appeared; his fur was ruffled but he didn’t seem seriously hurt, even though Leafpool had spotted him in the thick of the fighting.

He stalked toward his sister with a look of murderous fury in his eyes. “You mousebrained idiot!” he spat. “You nearly ruined everything.”

Mothwing gave Willowpaw a swift glance. “Go and find Mistyfoot,” she told her apprentice. “Tell her I’ll be along in a moment.”

Willowpaw sprang up and scampered off, glancing back nervously at Hawkfrost as she went. Leafpool shrank into the shadows; she hated eavesdropping on her friend, but she had to know what was going on.

“You let me down,” Hawkfrost growled. “You promised me you would tell the Gathering about that dream. We would have been able to get rid of those mangy interlopers right away. Now we’ll be lucky if any cat believes you next time you open your mouth!”

“Well, why should they?” Mothwing rose and faced her brother, her eyes filled with misery. “We both know it was a lie. I’ve never had any dreams from StarClan.”

Hawkfrost let out a snort of disgust. “But no cat knows that, do they? That’s just between you and me. They would have listened to you if you hadn’t stood there mewling like a kit. ‘I can’t be sure… I need a clearer sign!’” He mimicked his sister’s tones viciously. “I could rip your fur off for this.”

“I don’t care!” Mothwing retorted. “You made me lie in front of the whole Gathering. That’s worse than losing fur.”

Leafpool tensed, flexing her claws in case she had to spring to Mothwing’s defense. But she could see that Hawkfrost was making a massive effort to control himself. The fur on his shoulders began to lie flat, and his voice was quieter as he continued. “It wasn’t really lying. You know it’s best if Stormfur leaves. I deserve to be deputy, but if he stays, Mistyfoot will make sure he succeeds her.”

“He’s a good warrior—”

“Don’t tell me that!” Hawkfrost hissed. “He was willing to leave his Clan once, so how do we know he won’t leave us again? I’ve always been loyal to RiverClan, and I deserve to be deputy! You know that, and StarClan know that, so why not make sure the whole Clan knows it too?”

“Because my duty is to my Clan, not to you,” Mothwing replied calmly.

Hawkfrost drew his lips back, baring his teeth. “This isn’t what we planned!” he snarled. “I didn’t help you become a medicine cat for this. What do you think would happen if your precious Clanmates knew the truth about you?”

This time Mothwing did flinch, taking a pace back and turning her head away. Leafpool felt as if she had stepped into an icy torrent, a powerful rush of fear that could sweep her off her paws. How could Hawkfrost have helped Mothwing become a medicine cat? Mudfur had chosen her with the guidance of StarClan. What was “the truth” that could force Mothwing to lie for her brother?