The scent of the four combined Clans overwhelmed Hawkpaw's nose. He was bunched between Flowerbelly and Smallshore as he observed the arrival of the two other leaders. He was surprised to see that Cragpaw and another apprentice had accompanied them.
"I think the leaders and medicine cats are going to have a meeting," Flowerbelly murmured in Hawkpaw's ear. "You should go with Ravenfeather back to the glade with that prey." She was talking about the clearing Windclan was sheltering in.
The stinking fish still lay at Hawkpaw's paws, but he didn't want to leave when the future of the Clans was being decided. "Half the Clan is here already," he pointed out, though it was a bit of an exaggeration. Harepelt, Ravenfeather, and Swiftshadow were in the camp along with Berryfoot and her kits.
"That means there is still half a Clan to bring fresh-kill to," Flowerbelly said dryly. When she saw the frustrated frown on his face she sighed. "Well I'm sure Berryfoot is due for a meal. You can bring that fish to her."
Happy he'd gotten his way, Hawkpaw wrapped his jaws around the slimy prey. Its overwhelming stench blazed through his nostrils and he worked hard not to gag. Once again Hawkpaw was swamped with homesickness. He wanted the fresh breeze of the open land and the warm taste of rabbit. Instead he was greeted with the blaring river and rustling leaves, the constant noise making his head spin. He was starting to get used to the horrid prey of Riverclan, but it would never become normal.
As Hawkpaw approached the nursery, Rockhead emerged, his eyes troubled. The young tom muttered under his breath as he padded away. Hawkpaw had a sickening feeling that the worry in the medicine cat's eyes had something to do with Berryfoot. He picked up his pace until he plunged into the warm den.
The Windclan queen was hastily gulping down a batch of herbs. She looked exhausted with her five kits mewing agitatedly at her belly. One of them—Moorkit—remained ominously still. Were kits supposed to look like that when they were sleeping?
"But I want to see what Littlestar looks like!" squealed a white she-kit on the opposite side of the nursery. She and her two siblings were clambering over their mother excitedly.
Cloudypatch stretched to pass her tongue over the small cat's spine. "There are too many important Clan cats out there right now," she chided gently. "You would get under every cat's paws."
The other two kits quarrelled with their mother as Hawkpaw dropped the fish at Berryfoot's side. "I thought you might be hungry," he meowed.
The cream-coloured she-cat wrinkled her nose at the strange prey, but at the insistence of her kits, she managed to take a bite. "Between this and all the herbs I've been eating, I won't have any taste buds left," she mumbled around the fleshy food. She flicked her tail over Hawkpaw's shoulder in thanks as he left the den.
Many cats were still crowding around out in the clearing. The leaders and the medicine cats were gathering in their own groups for their meetings. Briefly Hawkpaw wondered which meeting he should spy on. The medicine cats were probably going to talk about herbs and signs from Starclan, so he decided that he would listen in on the leaders' meeting. Fighting and strategizing was something he could understand.
The medicine cats, led now by Rockhead, crossed the island in the direction of Windclan's temporary camp.
"We need to pick up Robinsong," the Riverclan tom was explaining. "I'm sure she can take us to a quiet place somewhere around the glade."
Hawkpaw stepped aside as they passed, but Shellpaw paused and gazed at him intensely. Suddenly her amber eyes widened. "You're Hawkpaw, right?" she mewed.
He narrowed his eyes. She was up to something. "What's it to you?"
"You're limping!" she exclaimed. She hurried forward to inspect his forepaw as the other medicine cats turned to watch. Playing along, Hawkpaw shifted his weight until his forepaw was lifted tenderly from the ground.
"It's nothing," he growled mutinously. "Just tripped over a pebble. Do you Riverclan cats even bother trying to keep your camp clean?"
"Here," Rockhead stepped forward. "Let me take a look."
"No!" Shellpaw objected. "I'd like to take a swipe at this, please. I'll catch up with you after I'm done." She met her mentor's eyes confidently. After a moment Rockhead nodded to her, and the group continued on through the reeds and out of the camp.
As their mingled scents faded, Shellpaw's shoulders drooped. "I hate lying like that," she mewed dejectedly.
Hawkpaw twitched his ears. "Why did you, then?"
"I had to talk to you." She flicked her tail in the direction of the two apprentices from Thunderclan and Shadowclan. They were sitting outside Willowstar's den,
inside which the leaders were conferencing. "That's Roguepaw and Cragpaw. I need you to fill them in on the prophecy."
Hawkpaw blinked in surprise. "Now? In front of all these cats?"
Shellpaw shuffled her paws uneasily. "Who says this all needs to be a secret anyway? Flaretail said nothing about keeping the prophecy from our Clan mates."
"He didn't suggest shouting it to the world either."
"I can't help feeling that keeping this from our leaders and mentors is against the warrior code," she mewed frantically.
"I know what you mean," he agreed. "But I know Marshstar would never believe me if I told him. Even if he did, he wouldn't want me sneaking off to meet cats from other Clans." He shook his head. "Starclan sent this message to you alone. No one but the four of us need to know about it until we have a solid idea of what it entails."
Shellpaw sighed. "We'll do it your way for now, Hawkpaw." She rapidly licked her chest fur. "But can you still find a way of getting a message to Cragpaw and Roguepaw?"
"I'll try." But Hawkpaw doubted it would be easy.
She nodded. "Good." She turned tail and trotted in the direction of her fellow medicine cats.
Hawkpaw sat and surveyed the camp. His Clan mates were gathering prey to take back to the glade. All except Ravenfeather, that is. The black she-cat seemed to be standing in as Windclan's deputy until Marshstar was found. It was appropriate, considering she was the Clan leader's daughter. She was crouched outside the elders den, her tail wrapped neatly around her paws.
The Riverclan cats had returned to their duties. Hawkpaw could remember most of their names and scents now. Shepherdheart was pacing just outside the warriors den, his eyes twitching in the direction of the willow tree every few heartbeats. Rushwind was splayed on his side close to the fresh-kill pile, his mate, Leafstorm, whose belly was swollen with kits, methodically rasping her tongue over his shoulder. It all seemed peaceful and welcoming, not unlike the Windclan camp. Too bad looks are deceiving, Hawkpaw thought.
He glanced once more at the willow tree. He could just make out the shapes of the leaders in the gloom of its hollow. The bark appeared sturdy and thick, and Hawkpaw resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be able to spy on the meeting at all. In Windclan, Marshstar would have had to leave the camp and find some place where he wouldn't be overheard. It was clear that Willowstar had no such need for caution with that big tree protecting her privacy.
Hawkpaw drew his eyes to the apprentices guarding the entrance to the den. Cragpaw was gazing around the clearing, taking his job very seriously. Hawkpaw respected this cat, especially since they'd fought together in the battle against the bear. The gray tom was an honest and loyal cat, worthy of Windclan.
The other tom, Roguepaw, had no such respect for boundaries. His spying was very subtle. He kept his amber gaze on the outer island, but his ears occasionally twitched back toward the hollow behind him.
Hawkpaw narrowed his eyes in thought. Roguepaw knew Shellpaw had something to tell him, and if Hawkpaw could draw the Shadowclan cat and Cragpaw away, they could be told about the prophecy. In return, they would fill Hawkpaw in on what they'd heard from the meeting.
So he settled down to wait. He looked up to see the reed barrier rustle before another patrol made its way back into camp. Frostpaw was with them, a tiny fish swinging from her jaws. To Hawkpaw's surprise she didn't appear as disgusted as the rest of Windclan by the strange prey. In fact she looked more cheerful than she'd been in days. A Riverclan tom named Ryepaw padded alongside her, and the two apprentices were mewing animatedly around mouthfuls of fish. This surprised Hawkpaw further, considering Frostpaw's wary coolness toward strangers.
After they set the prey on the pile, Frostpaw mewed goodbye to Ryepaw and walked over to where Hawkpaw was sitting.
"Did you catch that fish yourself?" he asked as his sister rested beside him.
Her eyes gleamed as she nodded. "Could come in use when we get home."
If we ever get back home, Hawkpaw thought cynically, but he pushed his negativity away. "Fishing would be useful if we had an actual river in our territory," he purred.
"We have one in our stretch of forest along the Thunderclan border."
"And you know how those furballs strut around there like fat pheasants who own the place."
Frostpaw shrugged. "Any skill can come in handy at some point."
"True," Hawkpaw agreed.
By now Shepherdheart's pacing was slowly leading towards the willow tree. Bluestorm emerged from the warriors den and spotted him. She bounded over to the Riverclan deputy and began to mew quickly in his ear. Eventually he nodded and the two cats left the camp together.
"Looks like Bluestorm gave Shepherdheart something useful to do," Hawkpaw observed.
Frostpaw nodded in agreement. "He seems to be really involved in leadership."
"Of course he is," Hawkpaw said. "He's the deputy."
His white-furred sister shook her head. "Flowerbelly definitely influences Marshstar's decisions, but he's the one who actually makes them." She paused, thinking. "But Willowstar really seems to depend on Shepherdheart a lot more than any of the other leaders. It's like he needs to encourage her or something."
They both fell silent, and Hawkpaw turned Frostpaw's words over in his head. After a while he had to admit that she'd made sense. Willowstar and Shepherdheart seemed to have a different share of duties than most between a typical leader and deputy.
Before Hawkpaw could think any deeper about it, Willowstar herself emerged from her den. The setting sun set her silver tabby pelt shimmering. Littlestar and Stormstar followed her, with Flowerbelly respectfully bringing up the rear. Hawkpaw's fur bristled uneasily at the sight; Marshstar needed to be here to prove that Windclan had a true leader.
Stormstar paused as the leaders crossed the island to speak briefly to Cragpaw and Roguepaw. Both apprentices nodded and relaxed their tense stances. As Stormstar hurried to catch up to the other three leaders, Ravenfeather and Coalstreak rallied around them to ask if a decision had been made. Hawkpaw and Frostpaw scrambled up to listen to Willowstar's response.
"We have a solution," she meowed guardedly. "But we need to confer with the medicine cats before we share it with the rest of you."
Flowerbelly rested her tail on Ravenfeather's shoulder. "This will all be over soon, one way or another," she murmured. She blinked when she noticed Hawkpaw and Frostpaw standing nearby. "You both have been here for a while," she said sternly, a suspicious look in her eyes.
Hawkpaw lifted his chin. This she-cat may be standing in as leader, but she wasn't his mother or mentor. My mother is injured and my mentor is missing! You have no power over me!
As the leaders left the clearing, Frostpaw headed to the fresh-kill pile for a bite to eat. Hawkpaw didn't join her. He had a job to do. Cragpaw and Roguepaw were still close to the willow tree, mewing quietly. Hawkpaw casually sauntered across the island. When he reached the two apprentices, Cragpaw's eyes glowed with recognition, but there was also a degree of wariness. Last time their Clans had met outside a Gathering they'd been fighting tooth and claw for territory.
"Greetings, Cragpaw," Hawkpaw meowed politely. He dipped his head to the other tom. "Roguepaw."
"Greetings," they both returned.
"How are things with Windclan?" Cragpaw asked tentatively, true concern in his eyes. Roguepaw leaned forward, curiosity twitching his whiskers. Hawkpaw didn't trust the Shadowclan tom and his nosiness.
"As well as things can be in this situation," he replied evasively. He was aware of the many Riverclan and Windclan cats going about their business within earshot around them, and his pelt prickled uneasily. He needed to find a more private place to talk. He turned until his gaze needled into Roguepaw's, willing the younger cat to understand. "Shellpaw has spoken to me," he said, his voice low.
Roguepaw blinked thoughtfully, as if the three of them were only talking about the weather. Cragpaw cocked his head to the side, confused.
Speaking a little louder, so Cragpaw was included in his next words, Hawkpaw continued, "She wants to pass on Starclan's message to the both of you in private."
Cragpaw's scruff bristled in surprise, but before he could speak, Roguepaw suggested, "If that is Starclan's will, then let's find a quieter place to talk."
Hawkpaw nodded. He flicked his tail for Cragpaw to follow them out of the clearing. They skirted around the nursery and discreetly stalked out from behind it. Hawkpaw led them away from the river, where patrols would be hunting. As they travelled, traces of Shellpaw and Oakpaw's scent erupted in bursts of undergrowth. Briefly Hawkpaw wondered what the two Riverclan cats would be doing in this part of the territory, then he dismissed the thought. It wasn't important.
"Anyone want to explain to me what's going on?" Cragpaw meowed. He turned to look back toward the camp. "Stormstar expects me to stick close, not wander around enemy territory with other Clan cats."
"Well Starclan has other plans for you," Hawkpaw replied.
Cragpaw snorted, but he continued to reluctantly follow the other two cats.
They padded on in silence, and they eventually reached a smaller river. Worried that patrols would pass by here, Hawkpaw opened his jaws to taste the air. There were plenty of Riverclan scents, but they were faint. Clearly they didn't come by here much. This part of the river was shallow and sandy, poor conditions for edible fish.
"There are some stones over there," Cragpaw piped up, indicating with his tail a few fox-lengths away. "We can cross without getting our paws too wet."
Hawkpaw nodded at the gray tom. "Good idea."
They daintily crossed the river in single file. When they reached the other side, Hawkpaw shook out his fur uneasily. He may not have gotten his pelt wet, but his fur still felt damp. This is a horrid place, he thought, not for the first time.
They went on a little further, until they reached a secluded clearing. The scent of Shellpaw, Oakpaw, and that of a few other cats drifted very faintly around the center, but they hadn't been here for many days.
"Alright," Cragpaw said as the three cats settled comfortably on the mossy ground. "Can someone please tell me why I had to trek through half the territory on the word of some Starclan message?" He, understandably, looked completely lost.
Hawkpaw exchanged a glance with Roguepaw. The Shadowclan cat dipped his head. "Why don't you tell it from the beginning?" he suggested, handing him the duty of leadership.
And so Hawkpaw took it.