Plumwillow locked her gaze with his for a heartbeat, then dipped her head. “Yes, I do,” she whispered. “But, oh, Hawkwing, you have to save him!”
Hawkwing wished he could promise her that Finkit would live, but he couldn’t lie to her. They didn’t know what the sickness was, and that made it nearly impossible to cure. He could see gratitude and grief in Plumwillow’s eyes as she turned away, gathered her other kits closer with a sweep of her tail, and headed back to the crevice in the rocks where she had set up her nursery.
I can’t promise anything. But I’ll do everything I possibly can to save Finkit!
Hawkwing watched Plumwillow go, then spotted movement downstream: Leafstar was returning at the head of the hunting patrol that had gone out earlier. Their paw steps listless, their tails drooping with discouragement, the cats carried their prey over to the fresh-kill pile.
Such meager pickings! Hawkwing thought. That’ll never keep the Clan alive.
Leafstar paused for a moment, gazing down regretfully at the scanty pile, then seemed to gather herself and padded over to the nest where the sick cats lay.
“How are they—” she began, then broke off as she saw that Finkit had joined them. “Oh, no. Where is it all going to end?”
“We’re doing the best we can,” Firefern mewed.
Sagenose, who had stood by in silence all this time, turned to gaze at the ginger she-cat; Hawkwing thought his eyes looked blank and dead. “You know you’re likely to catch it, right?”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Firefern snapped.
“Every cat knows it,” Sagenose meowed. “The more you treat the sick cats and get close to them, the more likely you are to get sick too.”
“That may be true,” Hawkwing responded, remembering what had happened to Finkit. He was nettled by his Clanmate’s defeatist tone, though he reminded himself that Sagenose had lost his mate and his remaining kits by the lake. I know how terrible that must have been. “But medicine cats always treat the sick, no matter what they’re risking,” he finished.
Sagenose turned that blank, stone-cold stare on Hawkwing.
“Right. But you and Firefern aren’t medicine cats. None of us are.
If we were, we might have some chance of curing the sick cats.
Instead, we’ll probably all get it, eventually.”
Leafstar’s shoulder fur had begun to bristle as Sagenose spoke.
“What are you saying?” she demanded with a lash of her tail.
“I’m just pointing out that we have a choice here,” Sagenose retorted.
“And what is that choice?” Leafstar hissed.
“We could split up,” Sagenose replied. “Or send a group of cats to find Echosong.”
Leafstar’s lips drew back in the beginning of a snarl. “And just where do you suggest we do that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Sagenose admitted. “But a group of healthy cats moving around would have a better chance than we will if we just sit here waiting to die.”
Leafstar’s anger faded and her eyes were full of pain as she gazed at Hawkwing. “No,” she meowed. “We will stay together.
There are so few of us now. And isn’t this what defines a Clan: that they stay together, even when things are hard? We have to believe that things will get better. We have to believe we will survive this. We have no choice, Sagenose!”
With that, she turned and stalked away. His gaze following her, Hawkwing tried not to let his misgivings show, for the sake of his Clan. But he couldn’t be sure that they would survive this new challenge.
Two sunrises later, gazing down at the nest where the sick cats lay, Hawkwing was even less certain. True to Sagenose’s prediction, Firefern too had fallen ill, the disease attacking her so fiercely that her paw steps were already leading her toward StarClan.
She exhausted herself helping the others, Hawkwing thought, and now she hasn’t the strength to fight the sickness.
The other sick cats were no better. Rileypool seemed barely alive; Hawkwing had to watch carefully to see the faint rising and falling of his chest. He couldn’t eat anymore, or even lap at soaked moss for a drink.
“Come on, Finkit,” Hawkwing murmured encouragingly.
“Look, I’ve some lovely mouse for you.”
To his relief, the kit began licking at the mouse. Still keeping an eye on him, Hawkwing began to treat the others with borage, chewing up the leaves into a pulp and crouching beside each of his sick Clanmates until they licked it up. As he finished, he realized that Leafstar was standing beside him, looking down at the nest despairingly. She bent her head and touched her nose to Firefern’s shoulder. “Oh, my daughter… ,” she whispered. Then she straightened up and gave her pelt a shake. “I’ve been thinking about what Sagenose said,” she began. “I hate to consider dividing the Clan, but I can’t deny it any longer—we could all die of the sickness if we stay here together. The best chance we have is to split off some healthy cats to go look for Echosong.”
“But what will happen to them?” Hawkwing asked, angling his ears toward the sick cats.
“I will stay with them,” Leafstar replied, her voice full of love and sorrow. “They are my cats. I am sworn to protect them.”
Hawkwing stood silent for a moment, hardly able to believe that it had come to this, that his Clan leader was forced to make these terrible decisions, without even StarClan to guide her. It had been so long since their warrior ancestors had spoken to them, even before Echosong had left.
I don’t know whether I can bear to leave Blossomheart, or Finkit. He’s like my own kit.
“You must lead the rest of the Clan,” Leafstar continued, as if she knew what Hawkwing was thinking. “It’s the only chance
SkyClan has.”
“Then we’ll come back if we don’t find Echosong within three sunrises,” Hawkwing suggested.
Leafstar shook her head emphatically. “You can’t come back.
Not until you find Echosong.”
Hawkwing felt his throat burn as he had to accept his leader’s order—the decree that meant he might never see Finkit and Blossomheart again.
“You must help me convince the others,” Leafstar urged him.
“It’s SkyClan’s best chance of surviving. And when you agreed to be deputy, you agreed to put SkyClan first. That’s what we do, Hawkwing. It’s the sacrifice we make.”
Hawkwing dipped his head. “You’re right, Leafstar. I’ll do as you say.”
Leafstar leaped up onto a nearby rock and let out a yowl. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here for a Clan meeting.”
The cats of SkyClan began to creep into the open from cracks in the rock or tussocks of long grass where they had set up their makeshift dens. Pain gripped Hawkwing’s heart at the sight of them: their ribs showing beneath tattered pelts, their eyes dull with despair. Prey had been scarce ever since they’d left the lake, and they were exhausted from constant travel. Hawkwing could see every one of Sagenose’s ribs, while Tinycloud’s pelt looked as if she hadn’t groomed herself in a moon. Dewkit and Reedkit, who had once been strong and sturdy, looked so frail that a puff of wind could have blown them away.
Every cat gathered around Leafstar and waited in silence to hear what she would say.
“Cats of SkyClan,” the Clan leader began, “you all know how desperate our plight is. Our Clanmates will die unless we can find
Echosong, and if we stay here, sooner or later we will all catch the same sickness.”
“What?” Plumwillow let out a cry of disbelief, her burning gaze fixed on Leafstar. “You can’t mean you want the rest of us to leave our Clanmates?”