Tallstar’s Revenge

Sandgorse was purring. “We’ll break through to the gorge together, Tallpaw. Palebird will be so proud of us.”

Tallpaw backed away. “No.” His throat was dry. “Never.”

Shock flashed through Sandgorse’s gaze. “But you saw how it was! Didn’t you feel it? The excitement! The danger!” He looked across the moors. “You can’t want to go back to running through heather after that.”

“Yes!” Tallpaw jumped up, bristling with frustration. “Why don’t you get it? Just because you love tunneling doesn’t mean I do! I’m not you! I thought we were all going to die down there. I’m a moor runner, not a tunneler!”

Chapter 11

“When can we start using the tunnel?” Cloudrunner asked Hickorynose.

Tallpaw pricked his ears. Had the tunnelers dug all the way through to the gorge? The cats around him shifted to hear the answer. Above, the full moon turned their pelts silver as they waited to leave for the Gathering. Larksplash and Appledawn sat beside Reedfeather. Stagleap plucked at the grass while Doespring gazed dreamily at the stars. Hareflight and Shrewpaw practiced battle moves a few tail-lengths away. Tallpaw was quivering with anticipation, though he was trying to hide it. This would be his first visit to Fourtrees, his first meeting with the other three Clans.

Hickorynose paused before replying to Cloudrunner. “We need to shore up the walls and roof before it’s safe for moor runners,” he warned.

The pale gray tom’s fur pricked along his spine. “And you really think this is going to make a difference for us all?” Cloudrunner meowed.

“It’s a good route down to the gorge,” Heatherstar reminded him.

Reedfeather’s eyes flashed. “Quicker for getting to RiverClan territory.”

“Why would we want to go there?” Cloudrunner stared at his deputy.

Reedfeather shrugged. “There might be a war between the Clans.”

“The Clans haven’t been at war in moons,” Cloudrunner huffed.

“Maybe there are other reasons for needing to visit our neighbors,” Reedfeather meowed. He turned his gaze away. “War is not the only connection between us.”

Tallpaw impatiently kneaded the grass with his claws. Why was Reedfeather going on about visiting RiverClan? The only place outside the moor that they needed to reach was Fourtrees!

“Don’t worry; we’ll be leaving soon,” Dawnstripe promised.

“I’m not worried.” Tallpaw padded past her, avoiding her gaze. He knew he should feel excited about his first Gathering, but instead he felt nervous. His quarrel with Sandgorse yesterday had unsettled him. Why was his father so obsessed with him being a tunneler? How can I enjoy training to be a moor runner? Sandgorse makes me feel like a traitor.

Barkpaw hurried from the medicine den. “Hawkheart says I can come!” He glanced over his shoulder at the medicine cat, who was crossing the tussocks behind him.

Tallpaw lifted his tail in greeting as his friend reached him. “Is Shrewpaw coming too?”

“Didn’t he tell you?” Barkpaw looked surprised.

“Shrewpaw doesn’t tell me anything.” Tallpaw had given up trying to be friends with his denmate.

“Why should I?” Shrewpaw paused from practicing battle moves. “You’re wasting your time and Dawnstripe’s by training as a moor runner. You’re a tunneler.”

“No, I’m not!” Tallpaw snapped.

“You will be one day.” Shrewpaw glanced meaningfully at the bracken patch. “Sandgorse will make sure of that.”

“Sandgorse respects what I want.” Tallpaw’s heart twisted. If only it were true.

“Of course he does,” Shrewpaw sneered.

“In the end, we all decide our own destinies,” came an unexpected voice.

Tallpaw spun around in surprise as he heard Hawkheart’s deep growl behind him. The medicine cat stalked past and settled beside Heatherstar.

Cloudrunner was still bickering with Hickorynose. “I don’t see why we need a route to the gorge.”

“You’ll appreciate it one day.” Hickorynose sounded weary from the long nights of digging.

Tallpaw had watched Heatherstar spend most of the day persuading him to attend the Gathering. “One of the tunnelers should come,” she’d insisted, sitting beside the bracken patch while Hickorynose and his tunnelmates finally got a chance to clean the clay from their paws. They’d opened the tunnel by moonhigh, just as Sandgorse had promised. But they spent till dawn safeguarding against cave-ins and mudslides, and returned to camp more anxious than exhilarated.

“The whole Clan should be represented.” Heatherstar had challenged one tunneler, then the next, until finally Hickorynose had looked up.

“What does it matter?” he’d grunted. “The other Clans don’t know a tunneler from a moor runner.”

Plumclaw sniffed. “Tunnelers don’t need to share gossip with the other Clans.”

Heatherstar had bristled. “The Gatherings aren’t for sharing gossip,” she’d snapped. “They keep harmony between the Clans.”

“Harmony!” Woollytail had snorted. “The Clans are just there to spy on one another.” He’d returned to washing, tugging grit from between his claws.