Sunrise

Hollyleaf staggered to her paws and arched her back in a stretch. Lionblaze, Birchfall, and Brackenfur were all curled up close by. “Where’s Brambleclaw?” she yawned.

“He woke up while I was on watch,” Hazeltail explained. “He said he was going to scout ahead.” She settled herself comfortably among the leaves and wrapped her tail over her nose. “I’m going to get some more sleep while I can,” she murmured.

Hollyleaf groomed the scraps of dead leaf out of her pelt, then padded the two or three paw steps to the edge of the stream. Before she bent to lap, she let her gaze travel over the trees that surrounded her; she could just make out their branches against the sky, which was beginning to fade from black to gray. Everything was quiet.

She took a long drink of the icy water; as she shook the drops from her whiskers, she heard a loud alarm call and caught a glimpse of a blackbird shooting upward. A moment later Brambleclaw came stalking through the trees, carrying a rabbit in his jaws.

“The hunting is good here,” he remarked, dropping his prey at Hollyleaf’s paws.

The rich scent of the fresh-kill made Hollyleaf’s mouth water. “Should I catch some more?” she suggested. “One rabbit won’t go far between six of us.”

“Fine,” Brambleclaw replied. “But don’t go out of the copse. I’ll wake the others. Next time, you can take first watch,” he added. “But right now we need to keep moving.”

Hollyleaf followed the stream, bounded up beside a small waterfall, and practically fell over a vole just before it could slip into its hole in the bank. Scratching earth over its limp body, she climbed the bank and stood tasting the air, her ears alert for the tiny sounds of prey. Soon she spotted a mouse nibbling seeds under a bush. Her paws lighter than air, Hollyleaf glided over the ground and broke the mouse’s neck with a swift blow of her paw. Then she went back to collect the vole, and returned to the hollow with both pieces of fresh-kill.

She would have been proud of her hunting skills once, especially when she could show Brambleclaw how fast she could bring back prey. Now she couldn’t even meet the deputy’s gaze as he congratulated her. All her training, everything she thought she knew, was nothing but dust if she wasn’t even a real Clan cat.

All six cats were awake. They ate quickly and followed Brambleclaw to the edge of the copse. “We’re not far from Midnight’s home now,” he meowed. “Be careful, and keep close to me.”

The land ahead was flat and empty, except for the Twoleg nests, with no shelter in sight. The sky was clear but for a few ragged, scudding clouds, and behind the patrol it shone milky-pale with dawn. The wind hit Hollypaw in the face as soon as she left the shelter of the trees. It felt cold and sharp, with an unfamiliar tang, like the scent of frozen blood.

“It’s going to blow my fur off!” she heard Birchfall complain.

Hollyleaf’s eyes and mouth stung, and her pelt felt sticky. She screwed up her eyes and ducked her head, keeping close to Lionblaze as they trekked on and on across the brittle grass until, beneath the whistling of the wind, Hollyleaf could make out a dull roaring, like nothing she had ever heard before.

Suddenly Lionblaze halted; unable to stop in time, Hollyleaf bumped into him. Hissing in annoyance, she staggered as Hazeltail collided with her from behind. Raising her head, Hollyleaf saw that Brambleclaw and Brackenfur were standing side by side at the head of the patrol, staring at something. Hollyleaf padded up to them, the rest of the cats falling into a line alongside.

Great StarClan! They had reached the very edge of the land! At their paws, the ground fell away into a tumble of rocks. Stretching in front of them, as far as Hollyleaf could see, was an endless expanse of heaving, roaring gray water.

“Welcome to the sun-drown-place,” Brambleclaw meowed.

CHAPTER 7

Jayfeather stood in the clearing after the Sol patrol had left, sniffing the tang of snow on the dawn wind. He could hear rustling as several cats pushed their way through the branches of the warriors’ den. There was a strange sense of tension among his Clanmates.

“Dawn patrol.” Graystripe’s voice came from close by Jayfeather. “Sandstorm, you can lead. Take Foxpaw and Squirrelflight with you. And take care along the WindClan border.”

“Do I have to go with them?” Jayfeather heard the dismayed voice of Foxpaw. “I don’t like WindClan.”

“Shh.” Ferncloud sounded shocked. “You know there’s nothing to be frightened of anymore.”

Jayfeather winced; it sounded as if most of the Clan believed that Sol was the murderer, and there was nothing more to worry about. But they’re wrong! They’re completely wrong!

“Foxpaw, you’re my apprentice,” Squirrelflight meowed with an edge of annoyance in her voice. “Of course you come with me. Or if you’d rather, you can go and search the elders for ticks.”

“Uh…no, I guess I’ll come.”