Chapter 9: Nightmares

They were so high in the mountains now that they'd lost sight of the river in the canyon below. More like an abyss, reflected Raindrop. The thin mist shrouded everything around them in hazy darkness, and the cold, sharp wind tore at their throats as they climbed, so that each heartbeat lasted seasons, each step an eternity, each stone that loomed in their path another mountain...

The clouds avove them were stony gray, often sending dsown spikes of lightning and trhin, miserable drizzles that reflected the Tribe's feelings as the days wore on... two days of climbing... three days... the canyon only got deeper, and the birds of prey wheeling above them only got lower.

The first shock was when one of the kits died. Out of nowhere, as they began to descend the other side of the mountain, a huge eagle soared down and seized Ripple's tiny she-kit in its talons. Hunger and long cold nights had weakened Ripple's son, and finally, on the morning of the fourth day of climbing, he too did not wake up. Sky, who was heavily pregnant, began to worry about her kits, and both Feather and Ripple grieved terribly. The whole Tribe felt their pain—without kits, they would not continue.

No cat wanted to think about the fact that continuing seemed impossible in the first place.

Slowly, they learned how to hunt stealthily, silently, waiting for one of the birds of prey to swoop down... But they were all growing thin, lean and rank, tired and hopeless, the only bright spot on the horizon each night, to sleep and escape the tired, hopeless, grey world around them.

Raindrop alone dreaded the nights and enjoyed the days. Climbing the mountain was like flying, but sleeping was a nightmare. Literally. Each night, she climbed higher on the mountain, and each night another cat from her Tribe fell before she even knew who they were... but she recognized them: Pounce, Eddy, Windteller, Leafteller, Leap, Mist...

She was changing from her surly, withdrawn self to the only hopeful cat in the Tribe. The dark shadows under her eyes did not betray the shadows that haunted her cold nights, but she leapt from rock to rock like a natural, helping kits along, talking to the kit-mothers who had lost theirs, encouraging to-bes she'd never even spoken to, and offering to stand guard when they spent restless nights in shallow caves.

"She's not a to-be," said Mist in an undertone to her sister as Raindrop helped up a kit and gently helped him on his way. "She's a branch-guard."

"not a branch-guard anymore, Mist," replied Leap sadly. "a stone-guard, maybe. Or a cave-guard."

Raindrop turned her head slightlky, hearing their words and swelling with pride. Mist wasn't so bad, was she...? And she liked the sound of that...

'Cave-guard'...Raindrop found herself climbing through the cobwebs of morning mist, the steep side of the mountain they were derscending disappearing rather fast from beneath her paws. The pebbles skittered dangerously, and the dew of morning made the deacent much more perilous than the ascwent. And they still had a llong way to go—the river's canyon was still a bottomlewss abyss.


A curve around a boulder, and there was the ravine itself, as black and unforgiving as ever, folds of mist swirling up through it. Raindrop watched her leader pad along the familiar, narrow ledge, her eyes as dull and hopeless as the sky above them. She let Eddy and Windteller pass her, but then trotted after them, not letting Pounce by. The prey-hunter to-be hissed softly, but let Raindrop pass.

The silence seemed to echo around them, each moment stretched out. that suited Raindrop just fine. Another hopeless night was the last thing she needed: along that familiar ledge, watching her Tribemate disappear into the darkness below...

She moved along at a fast, easy pace, the terrain nothing difficult, except for trying to avoid death. A glance ahead shoewd her that the ledge was lost in mist, seeming never to end. The harder she squinted, she could make out more details of the ledge... a pebble here, a rock therew, a crack, a twist in the path, a dip in the wall beside it...

A glasnce behind her showed the aame story—a bleak, hopeless trail that reflected the feelings of the cats walking on it. The mist kept everything in shadow, as if it wasn't really there, just beyond a veil...

Raindrop watched Pounce's shadowy figure, walking slightly apart from the group, without really paying attention until she tripped on a crack in the middle of the path.

"Raindrop!" gasped Pounce behind her. She fell on her side, her heart thumping. Shaking, Raindrop regained balance amd kept walking.

Suddenly there was an echoing crack.

And the ledge broke.

Pounce screamed, and Raindrop whirled around. The stone had crumbled and fallen away from the crack in the path.

Pounce leapt forward, clawing at the ledge where Raindrop stood.

But suddenly Raindrop couldn't move.

Again and again, she thought. I'm going to live this again and again until they all die.

Unable to help her friend, Raindrop stared helplessly as Pounce tumbled into the mist. It swirtled around her, like smoke clearing.

In a heatbeat, she was gone again. Suddenly Raindrop found her voice. The world stamped back into focus around her.

The howling wind—the screaming birds—Pounce's screaming cry—the voices of her tribe around her—

Raindrop squeezed her eyes shut.

They snapped open.

She was still on the ledge.

She waited to wake from her nightmare.

She never did.