Crowfeather's Trial

“Maybe not.” Crowfeather hadn’t thought about that before. Afraid that his son was right, he struggled with disappointment, then braced himself, trying hard to sound optimistic. “It hasn’t rained since then. Anyway, it’s the best chance we have. Let’s go talk to Onestar.”

Crowfeather led the way across the camp toward Onestar’s den and spotted the Clan leader just outside, in conversation with Harespring. As Crowfeather and Breezepelt approached, Harespring gave a brisk nod and bounded away toward the warriors’ den.

“Well?” Onestar asked, turning toward Crowfeather. “What mouse-brained idea have you gotten into your head this time?”

Crowfeather was aware that his leader still hadn’t forgiven him for going to ask ThunderClan to help. His tone was icy and his eyes narrowed, irritable. This is the worst possible time to ask him for a favor, Crowfeather thought worriedly.

The Clan leader listened without comment as Crowfeather repeated his story of what Kestrelflight had discovered at the Moonpool, and his intention to go with Breezepelt to search for Nightcloud.

“Do you have bees in your brain, Crowfeather?” Onestar asked when he had finished. “You really think this is the right time to go trespassing on ThunderClan territory?”

“Yes — if it’s the only way to find Nightcloud—” Breezepelt began desperately, before Crowfeather could respond.

Onestar lashed his tail dismissively. “I care about Nightcloud too,” he meowed. “But she’s been missing for a long time, and you don’t really know where to look.”

“We’ll start with the last place I found her scent,” Crowfeather mewed, his expression grim. Breezepelt stood beside him, eyeing Onestar expectantly. For that moment, at least, they were a united front. Onestar looked back and forth between the two of them and finally sighed in surrender.

“Okay, I won’t stop you trying, but it will have to wait. Today we have more urgent matters to deal with.” He glared at Crowfeather. “As usual, you have to be reminded to put your Clan’s needs above your own.”

“What urgent matters?” Crowfeather asked, ignoring Onestar’s jibe. He had accepted that Onestar would be angry with him for a long time to come, but that didn’t mean that Clan business would come to a halt.

“Have you forgotten the stoats?” Onestar asked, a sarcastic edge to his voice. “Or the conversation with Bramblestar yesterday?”

No, how could I? Crowfeather reflected bitterly. I thought I was the only one who worried about them. That’s why I went to ThunderClan in the first place.

“We have to get rid of the stoats before they cause ThunderClan to meddle even more,” his Clan leader went on. “That might be what Kestrelflight’s vision meant. After all, the dark water emerged from our end of the tunnels, which meant it could have come from ThunderClan, right? What if the vision was warning us to be suspicious of our closest neighbors? Maybe their new leader, Bramblestar, is the biggest threat to us. Maybe the engulfing water means that ThunderClan will take over our territory and drive us out.”

And maybe our Clan leader can’t see beyond the end of his own whiskers, Crowfeather thought sourly. I know ThunderClan is annoying, but would they really attack us now, so soon after the Great Battle? Sure, they might — and hedgehogs might fly!

Once again, Crowfeather felt himself being tugged apart. As a loyal warrior, should he follow his leader unquestioningly, or speak his mind if he thought the leader was wrong? Mindful that he wasn’t Onestar’s favorite cat right now, he struggled to listen in silence as Onestar continued.

“This is our plan: We’re going to block up the tunnel entrances with twigs, rocks, and brush — anything we can find.”

Crowfeather cringed. That wouldn’t even make sense if the stoats were our only problem.

“It’ll be a tough project, and we’ll need every warrior to help,” Onestar added with a hard glare at Crowfeather and Breezepelt, “but it’s the best way to deal with the stoats—and it will stop ThunderClan using the tunnels to spy on us.”

“That’s the most mouse-brained plan I’ve ever heard!” some cat exclaimed, and Crowfeather realized with horror that it had been him. His disgust at what he had just heard must have driven out all thoughts of being tactful, or of not getting deeper into trouble with Onestar. Well, it’s too late to take it back now. He took in a breath and went on, “Haven’t you thought it through at all?”