Chapter 5

The moon and its light grew at a rapid pace. It wouldn't be long now until Carmen was to start her journey proper. She spent most days by herself, cleaning grime from her fur. She'd found a dusty mirror in a part of the building the Clan didn't use and spent hours at a time examining every detail of her appearance. She sat and stared into her own amber eyes, wondering yet again just why she wasn't good enough to be chosen.

Her ear turned to the sound of quiet pawsteps. It was that scruffy little brown one with the stripes again, most likely. Mosspaw. The one that wouldn't leave her alone for some reason. Carmen barely acknowledged the mongrel, merely flicked her tail.

Mosspaw crossed the room halfway and stopped. There was a pause, then, "hello?"

"Yes, what? I'm busy."

Something hit the floor beside her that made Carmen nearly jump out of her fur. It was a bone with a few scraps of meat still left that reeked of human seasonings. She blinked at the offering a few times, then finally looked at Mosspaw, who was flicking her tail around with a dour expression.

"This is it?"

"It's what we have."

"This isn't a meal; it's hardly even food! I haven't eaten since yesterday morning!"

"Snowstripe hasn't eaten in two days and she has kits to nurse." There was a growl in the back of her throat. "I tried to give it to her first, but she said she wanted you to have it."

Carmen recoiled. "I… Well…" She looked down at the bone.

Mosspaw looked away. She'd thought her warrior training was exhausting, but these days she missed when ruthless mentors and a rumbling gut were brunt of her daily life. The aura of coming change loomed over her Clan. The travel alone was sure to be daunting, but to have Carmen as a guide? This spoiled, dainty little purebred that carried herself like royalty? Why would some long lost spirit Clan choose such a-

The bone fell to her paws with an unceremonious thud. "Tell her I've already eaten."

"Wh- huh?"

"They're babies. They need their milk."

"I thought you didn't care about us mongrels."

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

She awkwardly shuffled her paws. "I don't know. Just… give it to Snowy so she can feed her babies, okay?"

"I-"

"Can you just leave me alone?" Carmen padded back over to the mirror with her tail tip dragging on the floor. "I just want to be alone for now."

With a sudden twinge of guilt, Mosspaw searched for something to say. She drew a blank. Mosspaw was born in the Clan, born into the harsh and unforgiving world of a stray. She was barely a week old when some meddling humans had taken her father. She'd watched as Redpaw bled to death after a brutal fight with Pharaoh and his cats. Carmen's was a world that Mosspaw could never hope to understand.

She had nothing to say to her, so she didn't speak. Mosspaw took the bone and padded back to the nursery.

#

Twilightstep could tell by the way the wind shifted that rain was moving in. The afternoon sky was clear, and the scent was frail and unimposing as a single strand of fur, but there was no mistaking the change of weather that would reach them before next moonrise.

Good, she thought. We'll start this journey in cooler air.

Less overbearing heat meant covering more ground with less need to rest. Best to get as far as they could before the hottest season fully set in. Nights were already growing much warmer than before, and it was much too early in the season for it. If Twilightstep were the type, she may have believed it an omen of some sort.

She flicked her ear, and the golden ring piercing it jumped about accordingly. She'd never understand humans and their strange need to accessorize everything. Her old acquaintance was fine company, and she didn't mind the ring all that much, but life outside a set of walls suited her better than anything else she'd tried.

She was with Wickertail, Kestralclaw, Mudpelt, and Bellpaw. Wickertail was at the head of the party, and as they approached the southernmost part of Clan territory, every cat became particularly alert. Carmen's "Guiding Star" would lead them this way; this border needed to be secure now more than ever.

Though she trailed along behind everyone else, Twilightstep didn't miss the signal. She was tall, tall enough to see over the others' heads. Their lead's tail shot up in a blink, freezing everyone else in place.

She didn't know what it was at first. Their position was in a narrow crevice between two buildings. She perked her ears and tasted the air. When the breeze shifted, she found a presence she knew all too well.

"Dog," said Wickertail in a low growl. "Behind a fence, but I don't know how well that'll hold. It hasn't spotted us."

"How big is it?" asked Bellpaw. She'd dropped the old pieces of cloth she'd been carrying on the ground.

"Big enough," said Kestralclaw.

Mudpelt crept up to the edge of the alley, where there was a clump of stubborn grass. "I wouldn't worry about it. As long as we keep out of sight, we shouldn't have any trouble."

Twilightstep padded closer and peered over them. "Looks like some sort of greyhound mix. Even if it comes after us, it shouldn't be hard to chase off."

Wickertail spoke in her typical gruff tone. "We'll make a note to keep to the Snakepaths when we get as far as that statue."

"Until what end point?"

"Crookedtree."

"Seems like that'll give us enough distance," said her mate with a nod. Kestralclaw nuzzled her shoulder for just a moment. "We should get moving. Get some water back home."

"Home. Yes."

Bellpaw again took the cloth and they finished their trip to the fountain. They drank their fill and left the apprentice to soak the pieces of cloth while everyone else marked the border.

Twilightstep didn't miss the little flashes of orange fur here and there; she could sense his eyes on her the whole time. She had but one question that she'd keep to herself for now: why in the world was Hawktalon out here, lurking just out of sight?

#

Petalpaw ran so fast and so hard that a wildfire was cinders compared to her lungs. The forest was familiar. She'd never seen it before. Her muscles were aflame and yet her blood had never felt so cold.

Her pelt was a dappled orange. She stood out. She was trivial to spot in the dark and dense tangles of undergrowth. It was day-no! Stars didn't shine in the light of day. Stars blinked out of view at sunrise, but they were always there. They watched. They judged. No, it was night and they were on full display.

And they were falling.

The death of a star was something she'd never believed possible until now. Here they were, the glimmering silhouettes which vaguely resembled cats. They fell, and as they did, they aimed to strike one last blow.

But why? She ducked beneath a fallen branch. Why are you trying to hurt me?

Their collective voice was like a thousand peals of thunder: "You forget your place. Are you not a Clan cat? An apprentice and nothing more?"

"I-I am," she managed between ragged breaths.

"Then you are not to question why. You are no warrior, no leader, nor medicine cat. You, who are no older than ten moons, have no right to question."

"But what's happening?" she cried, skidding to a halt in a clearing. "Please tell me! Why are the stars falling? What can I do to help? Did I… Did I do something wrong?"

"Silence!" hissed the voice of all and one. "You are disgraceful, you and the others! No longer do you fight for your land. No longer do you breed among your own Clans. No longer do you yield to your leaders! Only one Clan has remained true to the Code."

"Four of the five have strayed too far, and to you we say: you will atone."

Carmen awoke, her fur bristling. With shaky breaths, she scanned the room for anything wishing her harm. She shook herself off and began to clean her pelt. Dreams meant nothing, until they meant something big. She was no expert on telling the difference. It made no sense. Dying stars in the form of cats, each of them hoping to kill someone just before their final breath? For what? Spite? Malice? For the fun of it?

There was no point in dwelling on it in the middle of the night. Carmen took a few minutes to calm herself, then settled down to drift off once more.