Sunlight shining into his face woke him. His eyes flew open in alarm; how had he managed to sleep for so long?
Then he realized that the roots where he had settled to sleep had vanished, replaced by the sandy walls and roof of a cave.
Sunlight was angling in through the opening, a few tail-lengths away. The air around him was warm. He could hear the murmurs of many sleeping cats, and SkyClan scent surrounded him. Raising his head, he saw the furry shapes of warriors curled up among moss and bracken.
A shadow fell across the cave, and Firestar saw a muscular tomcat outlined against the light. He recognized the ginger tom he had seen in his vision by the river. Fear clawed at him; what would these cats do to him when they found him in their den? But the ginger tom stared straight at him without seeing him, and Firestar realized that once again he was invisible to the SkyClan cats.
“Come on,” the ginger warrior meowed. “It’s time you were moving.”
All around Firestar the warriors began to stir and raise their heads. One of them—the brown tabby she-cat who had caught the squirrel—got up and arched her back in a long stretch. “Keep your fur on, Buzzardtail. We’re coming.”
“Okay, Fernpelt, you can lead the dawn patrol,” the ginger tom went on. “Pick a couple of others to go with you, and keep your eyes open for that fox we spotted on the other side of the gorge.”
Fernpelt flicked her tail. “Don’t worry. If we come across it, it’ll be crow-food.”
The ginger tom stalked across the cave and prodded a sandy colored she-cat with one paw. “Up you get, Mousefang.
You’re coming hunting with me, and we’ll pick up Oakpaw on the way. Nightfur,” he added to a black tom on the other side of the cave, “you can lead another hunting patrol.”
By now all the cats had risen to their paws and were shaking moss and bracken from their pelts. “This is our home now,” meowed Buzzardtail, glancing around approvingly.
“You know where to go…”
As he spoke, he and all the rest of the cats began to fade.
For a heartbeat Firestar saw the sandy walls of the cave appearing through their pelts; then the cave walls dissolved too, and he was blinking awake in the gray dawn. Buzzardtail’s voice still echoed in his ears. You know where to go…
Firestar padded out from the shelter of the tree. The sky shone with a milky light, and a gentle breeze teased his fur.
All his senses strained to pick up traces of the lost Clan. His paws tingled with their nearness; would this be the day when he found them?
“I’m here,” he mewed aloud.
Turning back to where Sandstorm still slept, he spotted a mouse scuffling among the oak roots. He dropped into the hunter’s crouch and pounced on it, killing it swiftly with a bite to the throat.
He woke Sandstorm by trailing the end of his tail across her nose. “Time to get up,” he announced, as her whiskers twitched and she opened her eyes. “There’s fresh-kill waiting for you.”
When they continued their journey, they had to skirt thickets of gorse and bramble that grew close to the edge of the cliff. Firestar still picked up occasional traces of cats, but nothing to tell him where the Clan had gone.
Then as the bushes dwindled, Sandstorm padded up to the edge of the cliff again. Firestar, who had scented a mouse among the brambles, heard her let out a gasp. He whirled around to see her staring down into the gorge.
“Firestar, come and see!” she exclaimed. “The river has vanished!”
Chapter 15
Abandoning his prey, Firestar rushed to her side and looked down.
The sides of the gorge sloped down steeply to a narrow, bone-dry valley strewn with reddish rocks. There wasn’t even a trickle of water.
His heart began to pound. “We must have passed the place where SkyClan camped,” he mewed to Sandstorm. “The gray-and-white cat told me to follow the river.”
Sandstorm’s tail lashed. “Mouse dung! We’d better climb down and head back along the gorge.”
Firestar took the lead as they climbed carefully down the steep cliff. Loose pebbles skidded beneath their paws; Firestar tried not to think about slipping all the way down in a flailing tangle of legs and tail, ending up broken at the bottom. He tried to step lightly, picking his way from one jutting rock to the next and using his tail for balance.
By now the sun was high in the sky, and the rocky sides of the gorge reflected the heat. The hot ground scorched Firestar’s paws. Panting, he felt as if his fur were about to burst into flame. He disturbed a lizard basking on a rock; it whisked down a crack when his shadow fell on it.
“At least we won’t starve,” he commented, pointing at the creature with his tail.
Sandstorm wrinkled her nose. “Only ShadowClan eat scaly things,” she meowed. “I’d have to be really hungry before I tried it.”
At last they reached the bottom of the gorge and began padding back the way they had come, weaving among the boulders. Firestar’s pelt prickled; nothing grew in this part of the gorge except for a few clumps of wiry grass and stunted bushes; there was no shelter, no undergrowth to conceal the cats from hostile eyes.
“It’s a good thing we’re not black or white,” Sandstorm murmured. “At least our pelts will help to hide us.”
Firestar nodded tensely. “Stay alert. We don’t know what might be lurking down here.”
As the sun slid down the sky, the shadow of the cliff fell across them. Firestar breathed more easily as the air grew cooler. He began to make out the sound of water up ahead.
He took a deep breath, detecting the first traces of moisture in the dry air.
Sandstorm’s tail went up. “I can hear the river!”
Wishing for the soft ground of the forest instead of these sharp pebbles, Firestar picked up the pace until he and Sandstorm were bounding among the rocks. Rounding a bend, he stopped dead when he saw a pile of reddish boulders blocking the gorge. The lapping of water was louder, but he couldn’t see it.
He scrambled up the pile of rocks, claws scraping on the crumbling stone, and peered cautiously over the top. Directly below him, water flowed smoothly out of a gaping black hole into a round pool before winding away down the gorge and out of sight.
Sandstorm clambered up beside Firestar. “So this is where the river begins.”
Firestar glanced around, half expecting to see the pale shapes of SkyClan warriors watching him from the cliffs.
There were no cats in sight, but halfway up the side of the gorge he spotted several caves, dark, narrow openings tucked underneath the cliff. Narrow trails zigzagged across the cliff face, leading from one cave to the next.
Firestar remembered his dream of waking among SkyClan warriors in a sandy cave. The deputy’s words echoed once more in his mind. This is our home now. You know where to go.
“We are here,” he told Sandstorm quietly.
“You think SkyClan lived in those caves?” Sandstorm sounded dubious. “Climbing up and down the cliffs every day?”
“I think so.”
Sandstorm rose to her paws. “Okay, but I’m not going to look until we’ve had a drink. My mouth feels as dry as the gorge.”
She began to pick her way down the pile of boulders on the other side, following the river until she reached the pool where the river flowed out. Firestar joined her as she crouched down and began to lap. The water was icy cold; it soaked through his scorched fur and Firestar thought that he would never want to stop drinking.