Erin Hunter - Dawn

“A parting gift,” he mewed.

Firestar stared at him. “I wish you’d come with us,” he meowed. “I’ve lost Graystripe; I don’t want to leave another friend behind.”

Ravenpaw shook his head. “My home is here, but I’ll never forget you, I promise. I’ll be waiting for you always.”

Leafpaw wondered with a pang if they would ever come back. She knew they were going to be traveling a long way, but she had no idea how far.

“We have been through so much together,” Firestar murmured, his eyes gleaming as he remembered. “We’ve seen the death of Bluestar, the defeat of Tigerstar…” He sighed. “So much has happened, like water flowing past in a river.”

“More water will flow before we join StarClan,” Ravenpaw assured him. “This is not an end. It is a beginning. You will need the courage of a lion to face this journey.”

“It’s hard to find courage when so much is lost.” Firestar’s eyes clouded. “I never thought I’d leave the forest! Even when BloodClan came, I would have died to save my home.”

Ravenpaw drew his tail gently along Firestar’s flank. “If I see Graystripe, I’ll tell him which way you’ve gone,” he promised. He dipped his head formally. “Good-bye, Firestar, and good luck.”

“Good-bye, Ravenpaw.”

As the black loner bounded away down the slope, Leafpaw’s heart ached for her father. He was leaving behind his two oldest and closest friends—without even knowing if one of them was still alive. She watched Sandstorm press her cheek against his as if to remind him he was not alone.

Cinderpelt stretched her forelegs one after the other. “We should check the cats and make sure they are all ready for the journey ahead,” she meowed to Leafpaw.

Leafpaw nodded. She thought back to the night before, when Squirrelpaw had returned with the others from the top of the ridge. Their eyes had been shining.

“We’ve seen the dying warrior!” Brambleclaw’s mew had been breathless with excitement.

“You’ve had the sign?” Firestar leaped to his paws from where he had been dozing beside Sandstorm.

“How can you be sure?” Cinderpelt asked.

“A star blazed through the sky, then vanished,” Squirrelpaw explained. “It fell behind the mountains.”

Blackstar ran over from where ShadowClan huddled on the rock. He looked puzzled. “Is this the sign we waited for at the Great Rock?”

Tawnypelt stared at him as if something had only just dawned on her. “Of course! This must be the great rock Midnight meant! Highstones, not the rock at Fourtrees!”

Stormfur nodded. “She’s never been to the forest. What she saw obviously looked like a great rock, even though to us it meant something completely different.”

Leopardstar shouldered her way to the front. “So what lies behind the mountains?”

“Mountains?” Ferncloud drew Birchkit closer to her.

“Last time we crossed them we found the sun-drown-place,” Brambleclaw explained. “But this time the star seemed to fall farther along.”

Hawkfrost narrowed his eyes. “So we’ll have to find a new route?”

“Not exactly,” Brambleclaw told him.

“It’ll be safer if we cross the mountains the same way as we did last time,” Tawnypelt mewed. “Otherwise we risk getting lost—and the snows might come at any time.”

“We can head toward where the star fell once we’re over them,” Squirrelpaw put in.

Leafpaw saw her sister’s whiskers twitch, and Brambleclaw flexed his claws on the rock as if he were bracing himself for the journey. But there was a hunted look in their eyes as well.

They were frightened of what lay ahead, because they knew what the journey might hold. With a twinge of alarm, Leafpaw wondered why StarClan had chosen a dying warrior to show them the way. It seemed a dark omen on which to fix the hopes of the Clans.

“Come on, Leafpaw!” Cinderpelt’s voice jolted her back to the frosty morning.

“Cinderpelt,” Leafpaw meowed hesitantly. “Do you think the sign from StarClan means they’re coming with us?”

The gray medicine cat gave her a long, thoughtful look. “I hope so.”

“But you’re not sure?” Leafpaw guessed.

Cinderpelt glanced around. No cat was near. “When we went to the Moonstone yesterday, I could hardly hear StarClan,” she admitted.

“But did they say anything?” Leafpaw asked, alarmed.

Cinderpelt narrowed her eyes. “I know that they spoke to me, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying. It was as if their voices were drowned by the roaring of a great wind.”

“You couldn’t make out anything?”

“Nothing.” Cinderpelt closed her eyes for a moment. “But they were there.”

“They must be suffering as much as we are,” Leafpaw murmured. “It must be terrible to watch the forest being destroyed, and to be powerless to stop it. After all, it was once their home too.”

Cinderpelt nodded. “You’re right. But like us, they will recover, as long as all five Clans remain.”

“But will they find us in our new home?” Leafpaw fretted.

“Will they know where to look for us?”

“These are questions we cannot answer.” Cinderpelt straightened up, and her voice became brisk. “Come on. Our Clanmates need us.”

Leafpaw padded to where Ravenpaw had left the rabbit. It lay untouched beside her father. A patrol of warriors had already left to find more.

“May I take this to Ferncloud and Birchkit?” she asked, but Firestar seemed lost in thought.

“Of course,” meowed Sandstorm.

Leafpaw glanced anxiously up at her mother. “Will he be okay?”

Firestar turned to face her. “Of course I will,” he meowed.

“Go ahead and take that to Ferncloud.”

Leafpaw picked up the rabbit and hurried to where Ferncloud was curled around Birchkit. The tabby kit was shivering with cold, and Ferncloud was licking him fiercely to warm him up.

“It’s too cold to be sleeping outside!” Ferncloud complained when Leafpaw appeared. “I hardly got a moment’s rest.” She gazed at Birchkit, her eyes glittering with fear, and Leafpaw guessed she had dreaded closing her eyes in case she woke to find the last of her kits dead.

“Here.” She dropped the rabbit on the ground. “This should help.”

Ferncloud’s eyes lit up. Flashing a grateful glance at Leafpaw, she tore off a hind leg and placed it in front of Birchkit. “Try this,” she urged him. “We used to eat rabbit all the time, but we haven’t tasted it in moons.”

“Make sure you have some too,” Leafpaw advised Ferncloud.

“I will,” Ferncloud promised.

Leafpaw’s belly growled, and she hoped the hunting patrol would return soon. She looked around to see if any of the other cats looked as though they needed help, but most of them were moving about quite cheerfully, shaking the stiffness from their limbs and padding to the rocks to lap water from the tiny hollows. Several cats, Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw among them, were sitting near the top of the ridge, the gray stone turned rosy by the sunrise.

Leafpaw heard Whitepaw pestering Brambleclaw. “Tell us what it was like. Please!”

Brambleclaw glanced over his shoulder at the far side of the ridge. “You’ll find out for yourself soon enough.”

“But if you told us, we’d be ready for anything!” Spiderpaw pointed out.

“He’s right,” Whitepaw mewed. “You’ve got to prepare us.”

Brambleclaw drew his tail over his paws with a resigned sigh. “Well, there are lots of sheep, which are fluffy white woolly things that look a bit like clouds on legs. They’re harm-less, but you’ll need to watch out for dogs when you see them, because the Twolegs use them to control the sheep. And Thunderpaths, of course—they’re mostly small, but there are many to cross. And then there are the mountains…”