Chapter 13

Feathertail's dream was gentle, the sound of splashing water surrounding her as she padded through the rocky trails of the mountains. The air was warm and clear, sprigs of grass clinging to cracks in the stone and small batches of flowers brightening the gray landscape.

She was padding towards another cat, one whose scent was sweet and calming – but before she could identify the stranger Feathertail found her eyes opening to the dim light of the Tribe's cave.

Somewhat sad, Feathertail sighed. That had probably been the first pleasant dream she'd had in a while, one not filled with the screams of her Clanmates as the Twolegs tore the ground from underneath them, or her alone within crushing, lonely darkness. She longed to return to it, but knew she wouldn't be able to recapture that softness, so she focused on the waking world instead.

The others were just waking themselves, getting in a brisk morning wash before the day began. Stoneheart and Shadepaw were gone, much to Feathertail's surprise. Stoneheart hadn't been moved since the Clan cats settled in the nest. Is he really getting well enough to move?

"Snow took them both into the back." Nightpaw's voice broke into Feathertail's thoughts. The small black tom was stretching each of his short legs in turn. "She said she wanted to take a better look at Stoneheart's wound, and teach Shadepaw more of the mountain herbs."

Feathertail didn't miss the flash of anxiety in Nightpaw's eyes as he spoke. "What's wrong?" she wondered.

Nightpaw frowned. "We can't stay here too long," he meowed quietly. "We're running out of time."

"I know," Feathertail assured. She got to her paws to touch her nose to the apprentice's forehead. "Hopefully they come back with good news about Stoneheart."

"I miss home," Nightpaw murmured, looking down at his paws. "I miss Mother and Father and ThunderClan… I hope they're all okay…"

Feathertail's heart ached for the young apprentice. Leaving home had been a hard decision for every cat there, but the apprentices were young, still, and Nightpaw and Shadepaw had parents who loved them. Feathertail licked Nightpaw between his ears sympathetically.

Who misses me in RiverClan, I wonder? Feathertail thought. Her heart sank. Though she had talked up RiverClan to Brook and the other Tribe cats, she couldn't bring herself to think of a single cat other than Stormfur and Tawnypelt to answer that question.

"Feathertail!"

Feathertail moved away from Nightpaw at the sound of Brook's voice. The small she-cat was crouched by the entrance to the softpaw den, her eyes bright. "Want to go on the morning hunt?" she asked.

"Sure," Feathertail agreed. She glanced at Nightpaw, and then asked, "Can he come?" Maybe walking around outside the cave would give him a chance to chase away his worries.

Brook nodded. "Of course."

Feathertail and Nightpaw followed Brook out of the den and across the cave, where it looked like several patrols were gathering to move out. Feathertail recognized Crag, who seemed to be in the lead of the other morning patrol – which just so happened to have with them the ginger tabby tom who had chastised the Clan cats when they had arrived.

"Take care," the tom was saying, rubbing his muzzle against Sun's. Feathertail blinked, noticing the similarities in their build.

"I will," Sun promised, licking the tom's ear. Her eyes glowed with affection.

Brook glanced between them. "Red Sun on Horizon – he might be a grumpy cat, but he's a great prey-hunter, and a good father," she explained.

Feathertail blinked, nodding gratefully at Brook. He reminds me of Blackclaw, she thought, watching Red. And Dustpelt, from ThunderClan. I think every Clan has a cat like that.

Sun trotted over to Brook. "Are we ready to go?" she asked.

"Soon," Brook assured.

Feathertail looked over their group. She recognized Swift, who had hunted with her the evening before – but she didn't know the fluffy brown tom she was talking with, nor the bulky tortoiseshell that was their cave-guard.

"That's Claw of Hungry Wolf," Brook whispered, "and Spray Dappling Cold Stone. We're waiting on Cloud That Covers Moon before we go."

Feathertail sighed. "Thanks," she meowed. There's so many cats here!

"It's going to be a good day to hunt!" Sun decided, looking out over the cave.

Nightpaw frowned. "How can you tell? The waterfall's in the way!"

Sun purred, and Feathertail's whiskers twitched. Even she could see that there was sunlight shining through the cascading water, and the spray from the falls wasn't as cold as it had been yesterday. Greenleaf still has a few warm days left, even up here.

"May we join you?" Feathertail's ears pricked as she picked up Stormfur's voice. Her littermate, joined by Mistyfoot and Crowpaw, had approached Crag's patrol. "We're eager to help."

Crag's eyes flashed, and he glanced at the other Tribe cats. There was a hush in the patrols as every cat seemed to wait on the cave-guard's decision. Feathertail blinked, confused. Why was it such a big deal? No Tribe cat had blinked when she joined a patrol.

"We'll take them," Crag decided, nodding to Mistyfoot and Crowpaw. "You stay."

Stormfur looked baffled. "Why?" he wondered.

Crag sighed, shaking his head. "Clan cats don't understand – mountain patrols need to be small to succeed."

Stormfur opened his jaws as if to protest, throwing a helpless look at Feathertail. She didn't know what to say – and neither did he. Stormfur closed his jaws and stepped back. "Alright, then," he conceded. He nodded to the patrol and offered, "Good luck."

Crag didn't wait for any more pleasantries – he raised his tail, and he and his patrol slipped out of the cave, Mistyfoot and Crowpaw trailing behind. Stormfur sighed and got to his paws, heading back to the softpaw den, his tail trailing in the dust.

Feathertail glanced down at Nightpaw, who seemed just as confused. What was that all about? Every patrol we've seen or been on has been large, Feathertail reasoned inwardly. Why would Crag deny Stormfur? She remembered that the Tribe cats had also stopped her littermate from leaving the cave the day before. What's going on?

"Let's head out!" Brook called briskly, as a black she-cat approached their group – Feathertail guessed that this was Cloud. "The prey won't catch itself!"

The sun was high in the sky when Feathertail's patrol stopped to hunt – it was a low, sloping valley that Brook had chosen, reasoning that in the heat the prey would come for the small stream that trickled through the area. However, it was a small space for their large patrol, and Swift had taken Nightpaw to show him the basics of hunting in the mountains, leaving the others to wait their turn. Brook had explained that this was something that the Tribe did in the portions of their territory too small for a full patrol.

Feathertail shifted her paws next to Brook. The cave-guards didn't seem to mind the idleness – Cloud was taking Sun on a patrol along the farthest edges of the valley, while Spray covered the opposite route. Feathertail had to admit that they seemed to be an expert at keeping a lookout, with their eyes flashing in all directions for danger. She focused on Nightpaw, feeling safe.

He's picking it up well, Feathertail thought. Nightpaw was always very eager to learn new things, so she wasn't surprised. He'd dived into the nearest mud pit with a gusto that shocked even the Tribe cats. Feathertail herself still had to resist the urge to scratch a clump of mud out from behind her ear.

"So…" Brook began, "tell me about Stormfur."

Feathertail blinked, surprised that Brook was talking right now – but Swift and Nightpaw were a fair distance away, and their voices weren't carrying. Still… why Stormfur? Why is the entire Tribe so weird about him? Perhaps this was a chance to learn the reason.

"He's my littermate," Feathertail began. "Why?"

Brook shifted on her paws, suddenly looking awkward. "I…" The brown tabby she-cat avoided Feathertail's eye.

Feathertail sighed. "He's handsome, I know. I'm sorry, he and Mistyfoot…" She frowned at the thought. "He's not looking for another mate."

Brook started, eyes flinging wide with shock. "That's not why I was asking!" she insisted. Her whiskers twitched. "Your brother is handsome, yes, but I am not interested in him like that!"

Feathertail blinked, faintly surprised. "Well, that's a relief," she admitted. "He really is very interested in Mistyfoot, though."

Brook tilted her head. "You don't seem happy about that. Mistyfoot is a very strong cat."

"It's more complicated than that," Feathertail assured.

"We have time," Brook offered, raising a paw to point at Swift and Nightpaw. The two were still stalking, seemingly having no luck yet at finding any prey.

Feathertail's frown deepened. "Mistyfoot is from ThunderClan, while Stormfur and I are from RiverClan – our code forbids relationships between Clans. I'm worried they'll get themselves into trouble when we get back home."

Brook looked baffled by the idea. "Why would they not allow such things? Are your Clans not close?"

"We are, but we aren't," Feathertail explained. "Every Clan has their own way of life, and those ways aren't always compatible, so it's best if we keep to ourselves for the most part. We fight over territory and such sometimes, too, and having mixed blood in the Clans makes that even harder. But…"

"But?"

"It's an old rule," Feathertail went on. "A lot of the warrior code hasn't been changed in a long, long time. And just because it's a rule doesn't mean cats don't break it." Her heart ached at the thought of Silverstream and Graystripe, and how far away they were now. All because of that puff-brained code…

"We have a code too," Brook offered, her eyes sympathetic. "We have had it for a long time. It's difficult to change what's worked for so long."

Feathertail sighed. "It worked long ago, sure, but now…" she admitted. "Now things are different. We're different. Things that were wrong back then don't have to be wrong now. The warrior code can feel too rigid for the world we live in now." Mothwing's face came to mind, and Feathertail chased it away. "ThunderClan's leader, Tinystar, made a change to the code recently, though, so… I'm hoping more can come from that."

"Would changes to the code make your Clans stronger?" Brook asked.

Feathertail nodded. "I believe that they would – but cats in the Clans are set in their ways."

Brook purred. "Tribe cats are, too," she pointed out. She nudged Feathertail, her whiskers twitching. "I'm sure change will come to your Clans, Feathertail. Be patient. It sounds as if the first pawsteps have already been made."

Feathertail sighed, grateful for the Tribe she-cat's warm words. "First we need to save them from the Twolegs," she reasoned. "I think… I hope… having to move territories will make more change easier for us."

"And you hope that your littermate and Mistyfoot will be able to be together?"

Feathertail stared at her paws. "If that's what he wants," she admitted. Her stomach churned. "She makes him happy – how bad of a littermate would I be if I wanted him to leave her just because I'll be lonely?"

"Not a bad littermate," Brook assured. "I think you're being a very good littermate, honestly." Her eyes shone with sympathy. "Worrying over one another is natural, and no cat wants to be alone."

"Thanks," Feathertail breathed, caught in the earnestness of the Tribe she-cat's gaze.

Somehow, that made her feel better.

They made it back to the cave by evening, jaws loaded with prey. Nightpaw had made an impressive catch of a large rabbit, which had earned him praise from Swift and Brook. He seemed especially pleased about it himself, having caught it after Swift had killed its smaller companion a moment beforehand.

Brook and Feathertail's turn had been just as fruitful – a mouse dangled from Feathertail's jaws, while Brook proudly deposited a blackbird onto the Tribe's fresh-kill pile, which Crag's patrol had already stocked. As Feathertail laid her mouse atop the pile, she was proud of how much was there – the Tribe would eat well tonight.

It wasn't yet time to eat, though – Feathertail parted from the Tribe cats to meet with her friends by the softpaw's den, settling down to groom herself as Shadepaw was talking about the stars. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Stormfur and Mistyfoot sharing tongues, their tails twined together. For once, the sight didn't make her uncomfortable.

Maybe I can learn to live without him, she thought, lapping at grit in her paw. Her pads were becoming harder and rougher from walking on the stones so much. And maybe I can find somewhere I belong too, if I don't feel at home in RiverClan.

"… every Tribe cat knows their stars," Shadepaw was meowing, looking pointedly at Crowpaw. "They navigate the mountains by them, like WindClan! And get this – they call the stars we were following the Sun Trail, too!"

Crowpaw's ear twitched. "How's that possible?" he wondered.

Feathertail lifted her head, curious.

"Come to think of it, I've seen some other stuff like that," Stormfur put in. "I overheard some cat wondering about Stoneteller casting stones to decide something – RiverClan does something similar."

Crowpaw frowned. "WindClan does that, too," he muttered, his eyes darknening.

Feathertail glanced around at the Tribe cats. The Sun Trail, and casting stones… sharing prey… she shifted. Are the Tribe and the Clans related somehow?

"I wonder if the Tribe and Clan were once the same thing," Shadepaw admitted, her eyes shining. "Wouldn't that be an interesting revelation? What if the Clans came from the mountains? Or the Tribe cats came from the Clans?"

"That's ridiculous!" Crowpaw insisted, curling his lip. He seemed to regret his sharp tone, turning away from the others. "It's just coincidence… And why would no cat know, anyway?"

"History gets lost over time," Stoneheart pointed out. He shifted in his nest. "This speculation is nice and all, but honestly, we need to focus on leaving."

"How are you feeling?" Mistyfoot asked.

Stoneheart flexed his leg. "Better," he replied. "Fine enough to go."

Shadepaw's eyes flashed. "I don't know… Snow seems to think you need more time."

"Do you agree with her?" Nightpaw wondered.

Shadepaw looked uncertain. "Well, I… I'm still learning these herbs, I don't know how effective they are, and…"

"We can't overlook the possibility that Snow and the others might be trying to keep us here," Stormfur pointed out.

The statement certainly got the others to pay attention to him. Stormfur shifted on his paws and meowed, "Every time I've tried to leave, they refuse to let me. I can't even make dirt without a cave-guard watching me."

"I know," Mistyfoot sighed, her expression turning troubled. "It's strange – they'll let the rest of us go on patrols, but deny you. Why?"

"I've tried to ask," Shadepaw admitted, "but Snow wouldn't tell me."

Feathertail flicked her tail. "Brook's given no hints, either," she offered.

"There's something else," Crowpaw noted. "On our patrol, we scented something foul – it made Crag turn tail immediately. Red was right in the middle of stalking a bird but he and the other prey-hunters just dropped everything to get out of there."

Feathertail frowned, thinking to her first hunting patrol with Brook. "A similar incident happened to me yesterday."

Mistyfoot nodded in confirmation. "Something is definitely wrong here."

"We need to leave," Stoneheart insisted. "These cats have been nice, but it's past time."

"We can't risk it until you're better," Shadepaw insisted, bristling. "Or, at least until I know enough to care for you while we're in the mountains… I don't want to risk you losing the use of your leg."

"How long will that be?" Stormfur wondered.

Shadepaw blinked, thinking. "I don't know. I feel like I'm a new apprentice again, learning all these herbs… I'll try my hardest to memorize them."

Feathertail blinked at the young apprentice in sympathy. She opened her mouth to offer something reassuring, but movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Glancing that way, she spotted Brook making her way across the cave to sit with Crag and some other cats… all of whom had their eyes focused on the Clan cats.

Spine bristling, Feathertail turned away. Her friends were still plotting in low voices, but… this cave was the Tribe cat's home. Even Feathertail was beginning to be able to hear noises on the far side of the cavern through the waterfall's crashing din. Just how much could they hear? And why were they staring like that?

They must know that we have to leave, she thought, staring down at her pale paws. But… those looks… the way they won't let Stormfur out of the cave…

Will they even let us leave?