Tallstar’s Revenge

“You must prove that you’re willing to lay down your life for any of them,” Heatherstar meowed. “Even Shrewclaw.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I’ll try,” Talltail promised. As he headed onto the grass, relishing its softness beneath his pads, Heatherstar called after him.

“I’m glad you came back.”

The claws that had been sunk for so long into Talltail’s belly seemed to give one final squeeze before letting go. “So am I,” he answered.

Chapter 41

Steadily falling water turned the hills gray. It had rained every day since Talltail had returned, and the familiar trails ran like streams through the heather. Out in the open, sand washed around Talltail’s paws as he trekked toward the gorge.

Reedfeather trudged beside him. “A hard frost now would burn away the youngest heather,” he commented as they skirted a swathe of dripping bushes, their roots exposed where rain had washed away the soil.

Talltail glanced at the heavy sky. “There won’t be frost for a while.”

Reedfeather shook out his pelt. “I prefer snow,” he grumbled. “It stays out of my fur.” The WindClan deputy was limping. A sprain in his shoulder that he’d suffered half a moon earlier was refusing to heal.

Talltail noticed him wince with every step. “Do you want to find shelter and rest?” he offered. “I can hunt alone.”

“I can still hunt for my Clan.” Reedfeather shot him a look. “Even on three legs.”

“You’re not on three legs yet.” Talltail eyed the stretch of grass ahead. A thrush, impervious to the rain, was pecking for worms. “See that?” He nodded toward the bird.

Reedfeather paused. “Your eyesight’s as good as ever.”

“Go around and come up behind it,” Talltail whispered. “Send it toward me. I’ll do the rest.”

Reedfeather hesitated.

“Hurry,” Talltail urged. “I can’t catch it alone.”

Reedfeather headed away, keeping low, rain dripping from his whiskers as he veered wide around the thrush. Talltail waited. The bird had gripped a worm in its beak and was tugging it determinedly from the ground. As Reedfeather closed in, Talltail stalked forward. He kept one eye on the deputy. The old warrior would know when to make his move.

Talltail’s paw steps were hidden by the thrumming rain. The thrush only realized what was happening when Reedfeather darted at it. With a shriek, it fluttered away from the WindClan deputy. Talltail sprang as it flew toward him. Stretching up his forepaws, he knocked the bird from the sky. It dropped to the ground, dazed, and he nipped its spine.

Reedfeather hobbled to meet him. “That’s a useful technique,” he grunted. “Even an elder could make a catch like that.”

“Or a kittypet.” Talltail fought to keep the wistfulness from his mew as he remembered Jake’s startled face when he caught his first mouse.

The rain was easing by the time they reached camp. Reedfeather led the way through the heather, nodding to Talltail before he carried their catch to the prey heap. Talltail scanned the camp. Water dripped into a puddle in the apprentices’ den. With no apprentices, the gorse had not been patched and the nests were wilting and soggy. Meadowslip was resting outside the nursery, Palebird sitting beside her. Lilywhisker was dragging old bedding from the elders’ den. Heatherstar sheltered below Tallrock with Aspenfall and Doespring. On the Hunting Stones, Wrenkit, Flykit, Bristlekit, and Rabbitkit were bickering about who got to sit on the highest rock.

“It’s my turn!” Rabbitkit sounded indignant.

“You sat there last time,” Wrenkit argued.

“I never get to sit on the highest one,” Bristlekit complained.

Talltail headed away before they spotted him and begged him to decide. As he padded toward the long grass, hoping to find enough shelter to wash some of the rain from his fur, Hopkit scrambled out of the nursery. One moon from becoming an apprentice, he looked too big for the old gorse den. Perhaps it was time to start clearing the old nests from the apprentice den and repairing the roof.

“Talltail!” Hopkit raced around the edge of the Meeting Hollow. He ran nimbly, compensating so well with his three strong legs that sometimes Talltail forgot about his useless, twisted forepaw. “Will you help me practice my attack crouch like you promised?” Worried that he wouldn’t be given a mentor because his paw made the moves more difficult, Hopkit wanted to learn everything before he left the nursery.

Talltail glanced at the sky. The clouds were beginning to tear apart, showing patches of blue. It was the first sign of good weather in days. “Okay.”

The black kit flicked his tail excitedly.

“Let’s use the Meeting Hollow.” Talltail jumped into the dip, feeling the wet earth slide beneath his paws. Days of rain had washed the hollow clean, and stones hidden for moons beneath the soil flashed and sparkled on the surface as the sun peeked through a gap in the clouds.

Hopkit scrambled down and crouched into an attack stance, his flanks quivering as he tried to balance.