“If Moony sees us here, he might not come,” Sandstorm meowed, leaping over the gap to stand beside Firestar. “Do you think we should hide?”
“Good idea.” Firestar pointed with his tail toward a heap of boulders where the flat rock met the cliff face. “Over there.”
He padded across and slid into deep shadow; Sandstorm squeezed in beside him. Through a gap between two of the boulders they could see most of the surface of the jutting rock and the last section of the stony trail that led up from the gorge. Now there was nothing to do but wait.
The moon crawled higher in the sky and the moon shadows grew shorter. Firestar felt his legs protest with cramps; he would have given anything for a good stretch.
At last he heard the soft pad of paws, and the old gray cat rounded a bend in the trail. His movements were stiff and painful, his belly sagged toward the ground, and his tail dragged in the dust. Yet he held his head high, and the moonlight turned his pelt to dazzling silver.
“He’ll never manage the leap!” Sandstorm whispered in Firestar’s ear.
Moony paused a few tail-lengths from the end of the trail and raised his eyes to the stars. Then he started forward again, somehow managing to pick up speed, and launched himself in a flying leap over the rift. His forepaws struck the rock, and for a few heartbeats he hung over the gap, paws scrabbling to pull himself up.
Firestar felt Sandstorm’s muscles tense, as if she were about to dash out and help him. But before she could move the old cat gave a massive heave and hauled himself to safety.
He stood still for a moment, panting, then padded forward and sat down in the middle of the rock. Lifting his head, he turned his face to the moon; he looked like a cat made of shadows, outlined against the shining white circle in the sky.
Moony began to speak very softly; Firestar and Sandstorm crept forward so that they could hear what he was saying.
“Spirits of cats who have gone before,” Moony mewed, “I am sorry I am the only cat left of what was once a noble Clan.
I will try to preserve the way of the warrior until my last breath. But I fear that when I die it will die with me, and the memory of SkyClan will be lost forever.”
He looked up, as if he were listening for a reply that never came. At last he heaved a long sigh, letting his head droop, and sat motionless while the moon began to slide down the sky.
Firestar could not interrupt his silent vigil. For how many seasons had Moony lived alone, surrounded by cats who tormented him? How long had he tried to live by the warrior code, and kept alive the memory of SkyClan?
At last the moon began to dip below the Twoleg nests on the horizon. Firestar was about to step forward when the old cat turned his head. His eyes glowed like moons. “I know you’re there,” he meowed. “I’m not so old that I can’t pick up scent.”
Firestar’s pelt prickled; he felt as awkward as an apprentice caught eavesdropping. He and Sandstorm emerged from behind the boulders and padded forward to stand in front of the old cat. Firestar dipped his head. “Greetings, Moony.
We—”
“That is not my name,” the old cat interrupted, standing up so that his shadow slid over the rock and vanished into the bottom of the gorge. “My name is Sky.”
Chapter 19
Firestar’s heart thudded so hard it felt as if it would burst out of his chest. He could hardly breathe, and the words he wanted to say tumbled out in a rush. “Were you once a warrior of SkyClan?”
“I was not,” the old cat replied. Before Firestar had time to feel disappointed, Sky went on. “My mother’s mother was born into the Clan. By the time I was born, SkyClan was no more, but my mother taught me the ways of a Clan warrior.”
Firestar exchanged an excited glance with Sandstorm. Her eyes were stretched wide. “We were right!” she mewed to Firestar. “This was SkyClan’s home.”
“Go on, Sky.” Firestar took a step toward the old cat. “Tell us more about SkyClan.”
To Firestar’s dismay, Sky recoiled. “Why do you want to know?” he demanded. “What is it to you?”
“We want to help you,” Firestar explained. “We come from the forest where SkyClan once lived.”
“We’re cats of ThunderClan,” Sandstorm added. “My name is Sandstorm, and this is Firestar, the Clan leader.”
The old cat’s ears flattened, as if his ingrained mistrust 2 3 5
were fighting with the respect that a true warrior would show for a Clan leader. Firestar realized that he must be the first leader Sky had ever met.
“I had a dream.” Firestar sat down, his tail wrapped over his paws to make him look as unthreatening as possible. After a moment’s hesitation Sky sat down too, and listened while Firestar told him everything that had happened since his very first vision of the gray-and-white cat in the ravine outside the ThunderClan camp. “I’m sure he was the leader of SkyClan when it was driven out of the forest,” Firestar finished. “He begged me to come and find his lost Clan.”
“And you came all this way because of a dream?” Sky asked.
“I came because I had to.”
Sky sprang to his paws again, the thin gray fur on his shoulders bristling. “Do you think it’s as easy as that?” he spat. “Do you think the wrongs of the past can be forgiven so easily?”
“What do you mean?” Sandstorm mewed, bewildered.
“It was thanks to the four Clans left in the forest that my ancestors were driven out of their home. When they came here, they thought they would be safe, but later they found it was as terrible as the territory they had left. Your ancestors destroyed my Clan!”
For a few heartbeats Firestar was afraid that the old cat would leap on him with teeth and claws bared. He braced himself, knowing that he could never raise a paw against this noble old warrior.
Then Sky drew in a deep breath and sat down again. “This is a time of truce. I will not seek revenge while the moon is full for the wrongs done to my ancestors.”
Firestar was beginning to feel alarmed. What was wrong with the gorge that meant SkyClan hadn’t been able to stay there? With some prey at least, freshwater and shelter, and little threat from Twolegs, the cliffside camp seemed to be a perfect refuge for cats.
“What happened?” he prompted. “Why did they all leave?”
Sky turned his head away. A low keening came from his throat, as if he were mourning for all the cats of SkyClan, driven out, lost, or dead.
Sandstorm padded forward and gently touched his shoulder with her tail. “Tell us why you’re called Sky,” she urged.
The old cat looked up at her. “My mother gave me that name,” he rasped, “so that I would never forget my ancestors.
And I never have. That’s why I come here every full moon.”
“That must get very lonely sometimes,” Sandstorm murmured.
Sighing, Sky looked up at the glitter of Silverpelt. “I don’t know if my warrior ancestors listen to me, but I will keep the way of the warrior alive until my last breath.”
“We know you stay in one of the caves on the night of the full moon,” Firestar began hesitantly, not wanting to upset the old cat any more. “Sandstorm and I have been sleeping there. I hope you don’t mind.”
Sky let out a disgusted snort. “Then you’ve met those two kittypets. That’s how you knew the stupid name they gave me.”
“Yes, we’ve seen them,” meowed Sandstorm.
“They live in a Twoleg nest and eat pap!” the old cat exclaimed. “And they say I’m mad!”