Before Birchstar could reply, one of the other leaders interrupted, scraping his claws on the harsh surface of the rock. His gray-black pelt was a shadow in the moonlight. “It’s time this Gathering started,” he rasped. “We’re wasting time.”
“We can’t start yet, Swiftstar,” the fourth cat mewed. Her creamy brown pelt held the frosty shimmer of starlight.
“We’re not all here.”
Swiftstar let out an impatient snort. “WindClan have better things to do than sit about waiting for cats who can’t be bothered to come at the proper time.”
“Look!” Redstar pointed with his tail toward the top of the hollow. The shape of a cat was outlined against the pale moonlight. He stood motionless for a heartbeat, then waved his tail and vanished into the bushes. More cats followed him, pouring over the rim of the hollow, the branches rustling as they streamed down the slope.
“There!” Dawnstar mewed. “SkyClan are here at last.”
“About time, too,” Swiftstar muttered. “Cloudstar!” he called as the first cat emerged into the clearing. “What kept you?”
The SkyClan leader was small for a tomcat, with a lithe body and a neat, well-shaped head. His fur was pale gray, with white patches like clouds. He didn’t reply to Swiftstar’s question, but thrust his way through the cats until he reached the rock and sprang up to join the other leaders.
Behind him, more and more cats were emerging from the bushes. A group of young apprentices ventured out, bunched together, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. They were followed by the Clan’s elders, some of them limping, one leaning heavily on the shoulder of a warrior.
Two she-cats each carried a tiny kit in her jaws; several older kits stumbled wearily beside them. The remaining warriors circled them protectively.
“Great StarClan!” Swiftstar exclaimed. “Cloudstar, any cat would think you’d brought your whole Clan to the Gathering.”
Cloudstar steadily met the WindClan leader’s puzzled gaze. “Yes,” he mewed, “I have.”
“Why in the name of StarClan did you do that?” Birchstar asked.
“Because we can no longer live in our territory,” the SkyClan leader told her. “Twolegs have destroyed it.”
“What?” Redstar stepped forward. “My patrols have reported more Twolegs in your territory, and noise from monsters, but they can’t possibly have destroyed it all.”
“They have.” Cloudstar stared across the clearing, as if he were seeing something else in place of the moon-washed bushes. “They came with huge monsters that pushed over our trees and churned up the earth. All our prey is dead or frightened off. The monsters are crouched around our camp now, waiting to pounce. SkyClan’s home has gone.” Turning to the other leaders, he went on. “I have brought my Clan here to ask your help. You must give us some of your territories.”
Yowls of protest rose from the cats below the rock. At the edge of the clearing the SkyClan cats huddled together with the strongest warriors on the outside, as if they were braced for an attack.
Swiftstar was the first to reply. “You can’t just walk in here and ask for our territory. We can barely feed our own Clans as it is.”
Redstar shifted his paws uneasily. “The prey is running well now in greenleaf, but what’s going to happen when leaf-fall comes? ThunderClan won’t be able to spare any then.”
“Nor will ShadowClan,” Dawnstar meowed, rising from her place on the edge of the rock and facing Cloudstar with a challenge in her green eyes. “My Clan is bigger than any other. We need every pawstep of ground to feed our own cats.”
Cloudstar’s gaze flicked to the only leader who hadn’t spoken. “Birchstar? What do you think?”
“I’d like to help,” the RiverClan leader mewed. “I really would. But the river is very low and it’s harder than ever to catch enough fish. Besides, SkyClan cats don’t know how to fish.”
“Exactly,” Swiftstar added. “And only WindClan cats are fast enough to catch rabbits and birds on the moors. There’s certainly nowhere in our territory where you could make a camp. You’d soon get tired of sleeping under gorse bushes.”
“Then what is my Clan supposed to do?” Cloudstar mewed quietly.
Silence spread over the clearing as if every cat were holding its breath. Redstar broke it with a single word.
“Leave.”
“That’s right.” There was a hint of a snarl in Swiftstar’s meow. “Leave the forest and find yourselves another place, far enough away that you can’t steal our prey.”
A young black-and-silver she-cat rose to her paws in the clearing below. “Swiftstar,” she called, “as your medicine cat, I can tell you that StarClan won’t be pleased if the rest of us drive out SkyClan. There have always been five Clans in the forest.”
Swiftstar looked down at his medicine cat. “You say you know the will of StarClan, Larkwing, but can you tell me why the moon is still shining? If StarClan didn’t agree that SkyClan should leave the forest, they would send clouds to cover the sky.”
Larkwing shook her head, unable to answer her leader’s question.
Cloudstar’s eyes stretched wide with disbelief. “Five Clans have lived in this forest for longer than any cat can remember. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Things change,” Redstar replied. “Is it possible that the will of StarClan has changed also? StarClan gave each Clan the skills they need to survive in their own territory. RiverClan cats swim well. ThunderClan are good at stalking prey in the undergrowth. SkyClan cats can leap into trees because there’s not much cover in their territory. Doesn’t this mean that each Clan couldn’t live in another Clan’s territory?”
A thin tomcat with rumpled black fur rose from where he sat at the base of the Great Rock. “You keep saying that StarClan wants five Clans in the forest, but are you sure that’s true? There are four oaks here at Fourtrees. That could be a sign that there should be only four Clans.”
“SkyClan don’t belong here,” hissed a silver tabby beside him. “Let’s drive them out now.”
The SkyClan warriors bristled as one, unsheathing long, curved claws.
“Stop!” Cloudstar called. “Warriors of SkyClan, we are not cowards, but this is a battle we cannot win. We have seen tonight what the warrior code is worth. From now on we will be alone, and we will depend on no cat but ourselves.”
He leaped down from the Great Rock and shouldered a path through his warriors until he came face-to-face with a beautiful light brown tabby. Two tiny kits were mewling pitifully at her paws.
“Cloudstar.” The she-cat’s voice was a murmur of distress.
“Our kits are too small to make a long journey. I’ll stay here with them, if any Clan will have us.”
Kestrelwing, the ThunderClan medicine cat, pushed his way between two SkyClan warriors, ignoring their snarls, and bent his head to sniff the kits. “You will all be welcome in ThunderClan.”
“Are you sure?” Cloudstar challenged him. “After what your leader said to us today?”
“I believe my leader was wrong,” Kestrelwing meowed.
“But he won’t condemn helpless kits to die. They will have a future in ThunderClan, and so will you, Birdflight.”
The light brown cat dipped her head. “Thank you.” She turned to Cloudstar, sorrow brimming in her amber eyes.
“Then this is good-bye.”
“Birdflight, no.” The SkyClan leader looked horrified.
“How can I leave you?”
“You must.” Birdflight’s voice quavered. “Our Clan needs you, but our kits need me just now.”
Cloudstar bowed his head. “I’ll wait for you,” he whispered. “I’ll wait for you forever.” He pressed his muzzle against Birdflight’s side. “Stay with Kestrelwing. He’ll find warriors to help carry the kits back to ThunderClan’s camp.”