Chapter 11

"By StarClan," breathed Runningwind.

Sandstorm and Tinyclaw grunted in agreement. Tinyclaw stared out over the watery expanse, the memories of his dream freezing his paws in place. Though it lay harmlessly shimmering before him, Tinyclaw could not help but recall Redtail's ominous warning about the danger of water.

Beside him, Graystripe was staring out over the water, horror undisguised in his eyes. Tinyclaw felt his pelt prickling against his own, and when he glanced at his friend Tinyclaw sensed that Graystripe was moments away from trembling. There was no need to ask what had Graystripe in such a state – he was worried for Silverstream.

The land's lower on the other side, Tinyclaw reflected. RiverClan territory must be twice as flooded! He thought of Silverstream, and Goldenflower and Tawnypelt – though they were cats from an enemy Clan, he had some respect for them. He didn't want to see them, or any cat, driven from their home by something like this.

"RiverClan isn't going to like this," Runningwind reflected, padding to the edge of the debris-strewn water. He grimaced at the water. "At least it will keep them off our territory – can't imagine them wanting to swim in this mess."

Tinyclaw felt Graystripe tense, and he turned to look at Runningwind. He meowed decisively, "We can't patrol the border properly at the moment. We'll need to go home and report this." Runningwind nodded, and he and Sandstorm turned about. Tinyclaw nudged Graystripe away from the water and the four of them headed back through the forest.

Tigerstar wasted no time – as soon as he was told the news, he leaped onto the Highrock and called out his summons: "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Tinyclaw and his patrol took their place at the front of the crowd as cats began gathering. His fur prickled as he saw Cloudkit bouncing alongside Brindleface, though she was too young for the meeting. Yellowfang and Brackenpaw sat beside the fern tunnel to listen in, and Cinderpaw settled down beside her brother. Mousefur even managed to urge Brokentail out into the clearing, though the dark tom didn't seem to care either way.

Clouds were massing at the edge of the sky, bringing the bright morning to a sudden end. The gentle breeze had turned stiff and chilly, causing the cats to fluff their fur up against it or risk being cold to the bone. Tinyclaw felt his skin prickle, but he didn't know if was apprehension or cold.

"Cats of ThunderClan," boomed Tigerstar's great voice, "our camp may be in danger. The thaw has come, but the river has burst its banks. Part of our territory is flooded through."

Dismayed yowls rose from the Clan, but they were silenced by Tigerstar's roar: "Tinyclaw – tell the Clan what you and your patrol saw."

Tinyclaw got to his paws as the crowd settled down. Loud and clear, he described what he had found – the flooded banks, the debris, everything he could manage. When he was done, he felt a prickle of pride to be called upon like that.

"It doesn't sound too bad for us," Darkstripe pointed out when Tinyclaw was done. "We've got plenty of territory left for prey – let RiverClan worry about the flooding!"

Approval broke out in a murmur. Tinyclaw frowned, looking past the crowd to spot Bluefur sitting just outside the nursery with Frostfur. The warrior-queen said nothing, but her blue eyes took in everything. The tip of her tail twitched, but Tinyclaw wasn't sure if it was interest or not.

"Enough," Tigerstar ordered. The murmuring died down as attention focused on their leader. "This flood isn't something we can ignore – a good rain and floodwater will spread here. Something like this is bigger than Clan rivalry – I don't want to hear that any cat has died because of these floods, let alone a RiverClan cat."

There was a hot glow in his eyes. Tinyclaw narrowed his own, wondering what Tigerstar was thinking, saying something like that when he had seemed so angry about hearing anything having to do with RiverClan. Where was this sympathy for an enemy Clan coming from?

"I remember some time ago when the river flooded," Patchpelt offered from amongst the elders. "Cats from all Clans drowned, and prey drowned too. No Clan was immune from the flood's effects – this issue affects us all."

Tigerstar nodded at the old cat. "Thank you," he grunted. "I remember those days, too, and I hoped it would be a long time before I saw them again. But it has happened now, and these are my orders: No cat goes out alone. Kits do not leave camp, and apprentices do not leave camp without at least one warrior. Patrols will go out to see how far the floods reach – Whitestorm, you can -"

"I can see to that, Tigerstar," Bluefur offered.

Tigerstar's ears pricked. "Very well," he decided, "if you think you can. Bluefur will organize flood patrols – and I'm sure you know you won't be on any of them." Bluefur nodded, and Tigerstar went on: "Meanwhile Whitestorm and Oakheart will organize hunting patrols. We need a stock of prey before the water rises any further."

He decided, "This meeting is over. Go about your duties." Unceremoniously he leaped down from the Highrock. He padded over to Patchpelt and the other elders and began talking quietly to them.

Tinyclaw settled uncomfortably, looking over at Bluefur. He wondered if she was going to choose him to go on a flood patrol, but a flash of gray caught his eye. Graystripe was edging closer and closer to the edge of the camp, the crowd, and Tinyclaw sighed.

"Where do you think you're heading off to?" Tinyclaw hissed. "Tigerstar just got done saying that cats aren't allowed out on their own."

Graystripe shot back, "I have to see Silverstream! I have to know that she's all right!"

Tinyclaw sighed again. He understood – if someone Tinyclaw cared about was in such danger, he'd want to go after them as soon as possible to make sure they were OK too – but was now really the time for his foolishness? "How would you cross the river?"

"I'll manage," Graystripe grunted. "I can do it… it's just water."

Tinyclaw threw Graystripe a skeptical look, catching a faint glimmer of fear in his friend's yellow eyes. "Don't be a fool," Tinyclaw sighed. "You nearly drowned once already. Is that not enough for you?"

Graystripe didn't answer. He turned his head towards the tunnel.

Tinyclaw sighed once more and looked over his shoulder. The Clan had split up into small groups, surrounding each deputy as they ordered the patrols be formed. Tinyclaw turned back to Graystripe and hissed, "Wait a moment, will you?"

Graystripe paused, and Tinyclaw bounded over to Bluefur. "Graystripe and I will go check the boundary downstream from Sunningrocks. Is that all right?"

Bluefur studied him long and hard with her blue eyes, but it was clear that Tinyclaw had caught her off-guard. Her whiskers twitched a moment, then she decided, "Very well. Mind your paws, and see that you bring back prey."

"We'll try," Tinyclaw offered. He turned and beat a hasty trot to Graystripe's side. "There," he panted. "No worries."

Graystripe narrowed his eyes. "You didn't have to do that," he grumbled.

Tinyclaw swatted Graystripe over the ear in a friendly way. "I'm not going to let you get into trouble," he meowed. "You can go see Silverstream – but we go together." Even though patrols didn't cross Clan boundaries, he couldn't let Graystripe do this on his own.

Graystripe's eyes clouded with relief. "Thanks," he meowed. "I won't forget this."

Side-by-side they left the camp and headed up the ravine, keeping close on the steep slope. They retraced the steps of their earlier patrol, and Tinyclaw noted how wetter the ground seemed. Everywhere the snow was melting into the earth, and everything seemed damp and soggy with water.

Even before they reached the flooded area Tinyclaw had a gut feeling that the water had spread – and it had. Sunningrocks was almost completely submerged now, the current of the river forming tight whirlpools and eddies around the gray islands. Tinyclaw stiffened and suggested, "Downriver?"

Graystripe nodded, and the two set off, following the shoreline towards the stepping-stones. Tinyclaw was about to suggest that this was a bad idea when a noise stopped him.

"What is it?" Graystripe wondered.

"Hear that?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Both fell silent. A long moment passed where nothing was heard – but then, suddenly, a thin wail was carried over the breeze. Tinyclaw's flanks bristled, and he and Graystripe locked eyes. "Kits!" they breathed together.

"Where?" Graystripe wondered, eyes wide and full of panic.

"I-I don't know!" Tinyclaw stammered. He swung his head around back and forth, looking frantically for the kits. The woods were still but the water was swirling… Tinyclaw's heart was beating in his ears. He barely heard Graystripe.

"Here!" Graystripe called. "On the water!"

Tinyclaw turned towards the flooded plain. It took him a moment before he spotted them – the swift current had driven a large mat of reeds and twigs up against one of the Sunningrocks. Clinging to it, mouths wide in desperation, were two wet-dark kits.

"We've got to hurry," Tinyclaw breathed. "The current is going to take them away any moment!"

Tinyclaw rushed into the water, going up to his belly in cold snowmelt. He looked back, seeing Graystripe hesitating, trembling with each pawstep into the water. Recalling how he had nearly drowned, Tinyclaw called, "I'll bring them to you – just stay put."

Graystripe only swallowed and nodded, eyes flashing with understanding. Though Tinyclaw was half of Graystripe's size, the black cat was far more comfortable in water than he was.

Quickly Tinyclaw was up to his neck. He strained to keep himself above water, pumping his legs as best as he could. Sticks and stones were floating amongst the water, and that made it hard. The current was strong, but it was pulling Tinyclaw in the right direction.

StarClan be kind, he thought. Make this easy…

Though the water made it hard to see, Tinyclaw could still hear the kits. He did his best to push himself in their direction. A great rock loomed before him, and before Tinyclaw could push himself away the current plastered him to it, knocking the breath from his lungs.

Quickly, Tinyclaw got back his bearings. He splashed and floundered, heart racing, until he managed to claw his way up the rock. StarClan had been kind, it seemed, for this stone was the one the kits' mat was pushed up against.

The kits themselves were small, smaller than Bluefur's. Tinyclaw guessed that they were still suckling from their mother, and terrified without her. Their pelts were plastered to their bodies, but one was a tortoiseshell while the other was black. The mat they were crouched on was a haphazard mixture of leaves, twigs, and rubbish that had once been something purposeful. Once the kits saw Tinyclaw, they began crawling towards him. The mat began to buckle beneath their tiny paws.

"Keep still!" Tinyclaw urged. Water lapped at his paws as he crept forward. He couldn't keep the kits on the rock with him – how could he get them back to shore without Graystripe's help? His best bet was still to push the mat over to Graystripe.

Again, Tinyclaw urged, "Stay still," to the little kits. He crept into the water once more, his back to the rock to keep the current from pushing him away. Carefully he pried the mat away from the rock, and it took every bit of energy he had to make sure the raft didn't go flying away from him and into deeper straits. The kits were flattened against the mat, terrified.

StarClan, Redtail, help me! Tinyclaw thought as he pushed the mat with his muzzle. Water rushed into him with each push, and water weighed heavily on his limbs. Exhaustion was dragging at him and it was becoming harder and harder to keep going.

He looked for Graystripe. To his relief, his friend was doing his best to follow without going in too deep. Graystripe was up to his belly in water as he sloshed forward, yowling and meowing so that Tinyclaw could pick him out from the gray waters.

Tinyclaw gave the mat a shove towards Graystripe, but with the current pushing it downstream it was slow going. Tinyclaw could feel the current growing stronger and stronger with every mouselength traveled, and his heart pounded in his ears at the thought of not being able to control the raft much longer.

"Hurry!" Graystripe was shouting. "It's getting bad!"

As he shouted a wave of water came from behind, pushing Tinyclaw under and the mat forward. The kits' squeals of terror followed Tinyclaw beneath the wave as he forced himself to the surface. Immediately, blinking water from his eyes and breathing heavily, he looked for the raft – it had been blown a few tail-lengths away and was caught up against another of the Sunningrocks. Tinyclaw breathed a small sigh of relief that at least the raft was closer to shore now.

Suddenly the kits squealed more. Tinyclaw's hurting eyes widened as he realized the mat was beginning to break up.

Tinyclaw let out a cry and surged forward – but he was too late. The mat broke to pieces beneath the tortoiseshell kit, and the small creature was plunged into the cold water.