Shattered Sky

A stiff breeze was blowing from the crest of the moor, flattening Alderheart’s whiskers against his face. It carried the scent of many cats, fresh but distant, coming from the direction of the WindClan camp. Then, before the ThunderClan patrol had traveled more than a few fox-lengths from the border stream, a stronger scent wafted over them, and a WindClan patrol appeared from behind an outcrop of rocks.

The dark gray tom Crowfeather was in the lead, followed by Larkwing, Emberfoot, and his apprentice, Smokepaw.

Bramblestar halted and signaled to his patrol to do the same as Crowfeather stalked up to them. The WindClan cat’s eyes were cold and unfriendly.

“What are you doing on WindClan territory?” he demanded. “You’re not welcome here. Onestar does not want to see any cats from other Clans.”

Bramblestar dipped his head politely to Crowfeather, ignoring his hostility. “I believe Onestar will want to know—” he began.

“Then you believe wrong!” Crowfeather retorted. “Onestar is very upset about the accusations that were made at the Gathering.”

“But we’ve come on important Clan business,” Bramblestar argued.

“Yes,” Squirrelflight added, “and it has to do with a medicine-cat vision. Come on, Crowfeather, this is us you’re talking to. Have you forgotten how we all made the journey to the sun-drown-place together? You should know that we wouldn’t lie to you.”

Crowfeather looked briefly uncomfortable, then dug his claws hard into the rough moorland grass. “That was a long time ago,” he snapped, “and I have my orders from Onestar now. Turn back, and get off our territory. Now.”

Bramblestar exchanged a frustrated glance with Squirrelflight. Alderheart was afraid they would have to obey Crowfeather and leave, when he heard a yowl coming from the top of the hill and saw another WindClan patrol racing down toward them.

“What’s going on?” Gorsetail, the cat in the lead, asked Crowfeather as she halted beside him. “What do these cats want?”

Her companions, Oatclaw and Featherpelt, stood a pace behind her, eyeing the ThunderClan cats warily. We’re outnumbered if it comes to a fight, Alderheart thought.

“They say they have to speak to Onestar,” Crowfeather replied. “But Onestar won’t want to speak to them.”

“We have important information for him,” Bramblestar put in swiftly.

Gorsetail gazed at the ThunderClan leader for a heartbeat, drawing a gray-and-white paw over one ear. “Maybe Onestar will want to hear what another Clan leader has to tell him,” she meowed eventually. “We’d better escort them to the camp.”

Crowfeather looked outraged. “Are you mouse-brained?” he demanded. “You were standing right next to me when Onestar told us to keep all other cats out.”

“Mouse-brained yourself, Crowfeather,” Gorsetail responded. “Bramblestar wouldn’t be here if this weren’t something Onestar needed to know. I’ll take responsibility, if it bothers you so much.”

Crowfeather opened his jaws for a stinging retort, then clearly thought better of it. “Suit yourself,” he snarled with an angry shrug. “If Onestar claws your ears off, don’t come crying to me.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Gorsetail mewed dryly.

Without bothering to respond, Crowfeather waved his tail to gather the rest of his patrol, and headed downhill toward the border.

Gorsetail watched them go, then turned to Bramblestar and the others. “Come on, ThunderClan cats,” she ordered. “This had better be good.”

Flanked by Oatclaw and Featherpelt, Bramblestar followed her up the slope, with Alderheart and the rest clustered behind him. As they climbed farther up, Alderheart glanced down in the direction of the horseplace and was surprised to spot a third WindClan patrol heading along the lakeshore.

Why are their borders so heavily guarded? he wondered.

When they drew close to the camp, Gorsetail sent Oatclaw racing ahead to warn Onestar of their arrival. By the time Bramblestar and his patrol crossed the lip of the hollow where WindClan had their camp, Onestar was waiting for them outside his den. As they padded down toward him, more WindClan warriors surrounded them, suspicion and hostility in their eyes and their bristling fur.

If we put one whisker out of place, I’m sure they’ll tear our pelts off, Alderheart thought uneasily.

“Well, Bramblestar? What is it that you want?” Onestar demanded as Bramblestar drew closer, facing off with the WindClan leader. “If it’s about the battle, you can turn around right now and get off my territory.”

“This has nothing to do with the battle,” Bramblestar meowed calmly. “There’s something important that you ought to know. Do you remember, seasons ago, back in the old forest, when Firestar left ThunderClan for a while…?”