When Graystripe reaches the top of the ravine he halts and turns to Fernpaw and Ashpaw.
"You two wait here," he orders. "As soon as you see the dogs, run straight for the gorge. Sandstorm will be next in line. When you see her, climb a tree, and then when the dogs have picked up her trail and gone, head for Sunningrocks."
He looks down at the two apprentices. Their eyes gleam with fury, grief for their mother momentarily forgotten in their desire to avenge her death. Graystripe hopes they will remember their instructions and not panic, or even worse, try to attack the dogs by themselves.
"The Clan's relying on you," he adds. "And we're all proud of you."
"We won't let you down," Fernpaw promises. The gray warrior leaves them there and leads the others farther into the forest. His ears are pricked for sounds of the dogs, but for now the forest seems to be waiting under a suffocating silence, as sinister as any howling or crashing of undergrowth.
The sound of the cats' breathing and their soft pawsteps seem unnaturally loud as they walk under the trees. Soon Graystripe halts again.
"Sandstorm, you wait here," he meows. "I don't want those two apprentices to have to run too far. You're the fastest cat in ThunderClan—you'll need to get a good start on the dogs to give the rest of us a chance. Okay?"
Sandstorm nods. "You can trust me, Graystripe."
Briefly she brushes her muzzle against his. There is no time for more words, but her love for him glows in her green eyes, and Graystripe is filled with a wave of fear for her. Tearing himself away, he takes the rest of his warriors along a line stretching all the way to the gorge, leaving each of them at regular intervals as he goes: next Longtail, then Dustpelt, and then Mousefur.
At last he and Cloudtail are left alone on the border with Riverclan, as near as they can get to the gorge without leaving their own territory.
"Right, Cloudtail," he meows, halting. "You hide here. If all goes well, Mousefur will lead the dogs to you. When they come, head for the steepest part of the gorge. I'll be ahead of you, waiting to take over for the final stretch."
Cloudtail nods and flattens his belly to the ground to crawl underneath the branches of a thorn bush.
"Good luck," he meows as he disappeared.
Graystripe wishes him luck in return and continues on, more warily now, into Riverclan territory. He sees no Riverclan cats but he scents some fairly fresh traces, which suggests that the dawn patrol had already passed that way. At last he finds a place to hide in a hollow at the foot of a rock and settles down to wait.
The whole forest is silent, except for the distant roar of water in the gorge. Graysripe can't help wondering where Tigerstar is now. Safe in ShadowClan territory, he guesses, waiting for his old Clan to be torn apart. Then he can swoop in like a carrion crow and take the ThunderClan territory for his own, gloating over his perfect revenge.
Clouds still cover the sky, so Graystripe has no way to judge the passing of time, but as each heartbeat follows the last he begins to worry that something has gone wrong. Why is it taking so long? Had the dogs caught one of his warriors?
Graystripe pictures Sandstorm being ripped apart by those cruel jaws and working his paws on the hard earth in front of him, extending and sheathing his claws. He has to force himself not to go back and see what has happened. What if this was all a huge mistake? he asks himself. Has he led his Clan into even greater danger?
Then, above the noise of the river, he hears a distant barking. Rapidly it grows closer. The dark force has gained a voice at last, giving tongue as the pack bores down on the cats who have become their prey. The sound grows louder still, until it seems to fill all the forest, and Cloudtail appears, streaking along with his belly almost flat against the ground. Barely three fox-lengths behind him is the pack leader.
Graystripe has never seen a dog like it. It is enormous, easily twice the size of any twoleg pet. As it runs, its muscles bunch powerfully under a short black-and-brown pelt. Its jaws gape to show a vicious set of teeth, and its tongue lolls. It barks hoarsely as it snaps at the fleeing Cloudtail.
"Starclan help me!" he whispers, and springs out of his hiding place. He just has time to see Cloudtail hurtling toward the nearest tree; then all he can do is run. The barking seems to redouble, and he can feel the hot breath of the pack leader against his hind paws. For the first time Graystripe wonders what he will do when he comes to the gorge.
He has imagined slipping aside at the last moment to let the unsuspecting dogs dash straight over the edge. Now he realizes that might not work; the dogs are much, much closer than he has imagined. Perhaps he will have to leap over himself. If that's what it takes to save the Clan, then that's what I will do,he vows grimly.
The gorge is close by. Graystripe emerges from the trees to see nothing but smooth turf between him and the edge of the cliff. Casting a hasty glance over his shoulder, he sees that he is outrunning the dogs, and he slackens his pace a little to let them catch up.
The pack streams out of the trees behind their leader, their tongues lolling as they bark.
"Pack, pack! Kill, kill!" The words slash at him like teeth. Then from his other side a heavy weight barrels into him, bowling him over. He fights vainly to get up as a massive paw pins him by the neck. A voice growls in his ear, "Going somewhere, Graystripe?"
It's Tigerstar.