Erin Hunter - Midnight

“We could spend the night here,” Feathertail suggested.

“There’s shelter, and prey.”

“It’s too close to the Twoleg nests,” Stormfur argued. “If we cross the Thunderpath into those fields, we’ll be able to find a safer place.”

No cat disagreed with that. StarClan sent them an easy crossing of the second Thunderpath, and as twilight gathered they began the trek across the fields. The surface was rough, with boggy patches and heaps of stone, as if once there had been Twoleg nests here that had been allowed to fall into ruin.

It was almost dark when they came to a stretch of broken-down wall. Ferns and grasses had rooted in the cracks, giving some shelter, and moss covered the fallen stones.

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Stormfur meowed. “We could stop here.”

“Oh, yes, please!” Squirrelpaw agreed. “I’m so tired I think my paws will drop off!”

“Well, I think we should go on a bit farther,” Crowpaw objected stubbornly. Brambleclaw suspected he was just trying to be difficult. “There’s no prey-scent here.”

“We’ve traveled a long way today,” Brambleclaw meowed.

“If we go any farther we could run into more trouble, or have to spend the night in the open. Let’s look around first, though, and make sure there aren’t any nasty surprises. No badgers or foxes holed up nearby.”

The rest of the cats agreed, all except Crowpaw, who grunted disagreeably. Squirrelpaw went to investigate on the other side of the wall. When she had been gone for a while, Brambleclaw set off after her, bracing himself to find that she had run into trouble again, only to meet her bouncing back around the line of stones.

“This is a great place!” she announced, shaking droplets of water from her whiskers, while Brambleclaw wondered where all her energy came from. “There’s a puddle on the other side, with plenty of water.”

“Water? Lead me to it,” Tawnypelt mewed, trotting in the direction Squirrelpaw indicated. “My mouth’s as dry as last season’s leaves.”

A moment later she came back, and stalked threateningly across to Squirrelpaw with her tail bristling. “That was a dirty trick,” she growled.

Squirrelpaw looked bewildered. “Trick? I don’t know what you mean.”

Tawnypelt spat. “The water tastes disgusting. Full of salt or something.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Squirrelpaw protested. “I had a good long drink, and it was as fresh as anything.”

Tawnypelt turned away and snatched angrily at some juicy stalks of grass. Stormfur shot Squirrelpaw a worried glance.

“Wait there,” he ordered. A moment later he reappeared with drops gleaming on his whiskers. “No, it’s fine,” he reported.

“Then why did I get a mouthful of salt?” Tawnypelt mewed.

A shiver ran down Brambleclaw’s spine. “What if…” he began, his gaze darting from one cat to another. He swallowed. “What if it’s a sign from StarClan that we’re doing the right thing, trying to find the sun-drown place? My dream was about salt water, remember.”

The four chosen cats looked at each other, eyes stretched wide with awe and, Brambleclaw thought, apprehension.

“If you’re right,” Feathertail murmured, “it would mean that StarClan are watching us, all the time.” She glanced around as if she expected to see starry shapes stalking toward them across the darkening field.

Brambleclaw dug his claws into the earth, feeling the need to anchor himself in something real and solid. “Then that’s a good thing,” he meowed.

“So why haven’t we all had a sign?” Crowpaw asked challengingly. “Why just the two of you?”

“Perhaps we’ll have one later,” Feathertail suggested, brushing her tail against Crowpaw’s flank. “Maybe they’re spread out to let us know we’re staying on the right path.”

“Perhaps.” Crowpaw shrugged angrily and went off to curl up by himself at one end of the wall.

The rest of the party settled down too. Brambleclaw thought longingly of the mice in Ravenpaw’s barn; there was no prey-scent here, and they would have to go to sleep hungry. The next day they would have to spend some time hunting before they went much farther.

The first stars of Silverpelt were beginning to appear above his head. Warriors of StarClan , Brambleclaw thought drowsily, watching us and guiding us on our journey.

If only I could speak to you right now, he thought. I wish I could ask you if we’re really doing the right thing, and why we have to travel so far. I wish I could ask you what trouble you have foreseen for the forest.

The stars glittered more brightly still, but no answers came.

Brambleclaw jumped awake when a paw prodded him in the side.

Squirrelpaw’s voice meowed urgently, “Wake up, Brambleclaw! Feathertail and Crowpaw—are gone!”

Brambleclaw sat up, blinking. Tawnypelt was on her paws, and Stormfur was just emerging from the nest he had made for himself under a clump of ferns. But Squirrelpaw was right. There was no sign of Feathertail and Crowpaw.

His head whirling, he staggered to his paws. The sun had already climbed above the horizon in a bright blue sky dotted with puffs of white cloud. A stiff breeze was blowing, rippling the grass in the field, but it brought no scent of the missing cats. For a couple of heartbeats Brambleclaw wondered if they had gone home. They had not received the saltwater sign from StarClan; had that made them feel like giving up, as if they had been judged and found lacking? And if Feathertail and Crowpaw had turned back, could he and Tawnypelt succeed if they went on alone?

Then he realized he was being stupid. Crowpaw might think like that, but Feathertail never would, and wherever the two cats had gone they must be together. And it was unlikely that a predator had taken them; there were no scents of danger here, and in any case the noise would have woken the rest of them.

“See if they’ve gone for a drink at the pool,” he suggested to Squirrelpaw, who was still gazing at him with panic in her green eyes.

“I already have,” she mewed. “I’m not mouse-brained.”

“No, okay, then…” Brambleclaw glanced around wildly, desperate to come up with a plan, and caught sight of two small figures, pale gray and black, approaching across the field. The wind, blowing toward the broken-down wall, had carried their scent away. “There they are!” he exclaimed.

Feathertail and Crowpaw trotted briskly up to the stones.

Their mouths were full of fresh-kill, and their eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

“Where have you been?” Brambleclaw demanded. “We were worried about you.”

“You shouldn’t wander off like that,” Stormfur added to his sister.

“What does it look like?” Crowpaw snapped, dropping the two mice he was carrying. “You were all snoring like hedgehogs in winter, so we thought we’d go and hunt.”

“There’s lots of prey over there.” Feathertail gestured with her tail toward a thicket in the next field. “We caught a whole pile, but we’ll have to go back and fetch the rest.”

“Let these lazy lumps do it themselves,” Crowpaw muttered.

“Of course we’ll help,” meowed Brambleclaw, his mouth already starting to water at the smell of the fresh-kill. “You’ve done brilliantly. You stay and eat, and we’ll fetch the rest of the prey.”

Crowpaw had already crouched down, ready to take a bite from one of the mice. “Don’t talk to us as if you’re our mentor,” he growled.

He was obviously determined to be difficult, so Brambleclaw left him to it. In spite of the younger cat’s bad temper, he couldn’t help feeling optimistic. They had survived the trouble in the Twoleg gardens, Tawnypelt’s sign meant that they were still following the will of StarClan, and now they had a good meal to look forward to. As he led the way toward the thicket he decided that things could be a good deal worse.