Chapter Two

Moonpaw trembled uncontrollably as the gaze of many cats penetrated her. She had done wrong to trust Sunpaw, she knew that. But why did IslandClan hate her now? Surely Birchstar himself had made such mistakes as an apprentice, too?

'You'll bring your share of fresh-kill to the elders tonight,' Birchstar steady voice spoke close to her ear and interrupted her thoughts. 'We will suffer a loss in prey because of the lost bank, and you'll experience hunger then. You can experience hunger now.' As Moonpaw looked up into her father's deep, amber eyes, she saw a hint of sympathy hidden among the disappointment. With a softer voice, he added, 'I'm doing it for the good of the Clan. Show your worth in this situation, Moonpaw.'

Moonpaw nodded, and Birchstar padded off to his den. His otherwise confident stride looked weary and broken today. Moonpaw cringed with the thought that it was only because of her. She hadn't meant to inflict such harm upon the Clan, and her beloved family.

I need to show my worth, Moonpaw inwardly repeated Birchstar's meaningful words. But how can I ever prove myself to the Clan, if they already hate me within the first seven moons of my life?

The next morning looked gloomy and sinister as Moonpaw crept outside just as the sun peered over the tops of the trees. The cold of dawn still hovered in the air and Moonpaw shivered as it penetrated her thick, silver fur. The island started every day with icy cold dawn, but at noon the sun stood glaring overhead. Luckily the IslandClan cats had long adapted their fur to this unusual climate. She trotted briskly to the puny fresh-kill pile and selected a small vole to eat before the hunting. Cold mornings weren't really Moonpaw's thing, so she groggily began chewing her breakfast, trying to warm up a little. Briarclaw, her mentor, came over to see her. His long, thick fur insulated his body so well he was never bothered by foggy, cold days. 'I see you've already started your meal,' he said. 'Meet your brother and Nightstrike at the camp entrance when you're finished for an early hunting patrol; I'll wait for you near the training beach.'

Moonpaw nodded. She didn't ask why he left so early—she knew he trusted her to keep it for herself. Briarclaw turned around and padded to his den, the fluffy, brown tip of his tail dipping with every step. Moonpaw lingered longer than needed. She knew she was just scared of hunting in a larger group, but it made her unconfident of herself. What if Nightstrike hated her? What could happen? Already Moonpaw knew this day would be restless and she would be hiding most of the time. But hunting with mentors wasn't something you could avoid. Moonpaw sighed and heaved herself to her paws. She trotted to the camp entrance and met Sprucepaw with his mentor, Nightstrike. Sprucepaw was eager for the usual adventure. He loved danger as much as she hated it.

The fog clung to the new-leaf pines and large oaks as they made their way down the overgrown path to the training beach on one side of the island. The far-away mountains belonging to VolcanoClan were shrouded by the wet fog, and Moonpaw stopped to look down the low hill at the landscape. It was as if a blanket had been thrown hastily onto the world—here and there a bump in the landscape looked like a pebble under the fog—and a crease ran down in what Moonpaw recognized as the brook to CavernClan. Even the wide, deep lake was hidden from sight by the thick fog that lay on its surface.

Sprucepaw called to her from the beach that skirted one end of their island. Moonpaw looked through the trees and saw her brother's warm, amber eyes glinting at her.

She gently leaped into the sand on the edge of the trees and met the two cats waiting for her. Suddenly she saw that Briarclaw was standing with them. He was staring at something not very far off. She followed his gaze and gasped.

The water surrounding their island had risen to the trees! It had never come up this far for as long as she knew. The sandy beach might as well be forgotten. Somewhere, deep beneath those dark waves lay the young palm trees heavy with large coconuts, the luxurious, warm sand, and the tide-pools filled with shells and urchins. It was hard to believe, but the truth was there.

'I knew it had come up higher than normal this year, but...but this—' Moonpaw stammered helplessly. Briarclaw tried to assure his apprentice by licking the young cat's ear fondly. 'The water simply gulped up the beach like a piece of fresh-kill!'

Sprucepaw seemed less distorted. He bounded to the water's edge and peered into the small, guilty-looking waves.

'I can't see very deep. It isn't sand at the bottom, I suppose. Maybe moss. Doesn't it look rather dark and gloomy?'

Moonpaw swallowed with much effort and timidly got herself together. 'What are we going to do? Straight back to camp?'

'I suppose Birchstar will need to hear this as soon as possible. I don't think a dawn patrol went out before us today, so he doesn't know yet.'

The four cats steadily started their trek back to the camp, each busy with their own thoughts. Moonpaw noticed the fog starting to drift up from the water, and felt an eerie silence fall over them. The surroundings made Moonpaw think of StarClan. Were they watching? Did the noble cats in Silverpelt want this to happen to IslandClan? Was her clan meant to drown in the waters, or starve because of the lack of prey?

Moonpaw sighed worriedly. She wished she could stop thinking for a moment—to feel the nature around her, the solitude, the sky, and maybe StarClan, too? She knew it was wrong to doubt StarClan, but Moonpaw sometimes wondered where they were. They said they always guided the Clans, but how can they care about every cat if the clans are enemies? Moonpaw simply wished there was peace between all the clans and that StarClan was there to show them the way. Would this ever be possible?