Lionpaw saw Talon swallow. “We… we went to find the Clans,” he stammered, one paw raking nervously at the cave floor. “We’ve brought help…”
“We thought it was best,” Night added.
“You thought wrong!” Stoneteller’s voice was soft, vibrating with fury. “You abandoned your Tribemates when we needed you to hunt for food. You told the Clans of our weakness. And you have brought all these extra mouths to feed. How dare you set paw in our cave? None of you is welcome here.”
Stormfur and Brook, who had followed Lionpaw and the other apprentices into the cave, padded forward until they stood in front of Stoneteller. The old cat’s eyes narrowed.
“You are dead!”
Stormfur didn’t flinch. “No, we are not. And we are still loyal to the Tribe of Rushing Water, whatever you might think.”
“We have to help you,” Brook pleaded.
But Stoneteller’s eyes were cold as the stone around him.
“I banished you from the mountains with good reason. Do you think I did it lightly? No. But our ancestors willed it so.”
“Then our ancestors were wrong.” Brook’s amber eyes glowed. “The Tribe is suffering even more than when we left.
The trespassers are even more arrogant. We met a group of them on our way here. They behaved as if the mountains were their territory and they could drive us off if they wanted.”
“We have come to help,” Stormfur insisted. “You need us.”
“Need you!” Stoneteller echoed scornfully. “What do you think you can do? Too many lives have been lost already, too much blood spilled—and that was your doing. You told us we needed a show of strength to defend our territory, but it didn’t work.”
“But there was no territory,” Brambleclaw pointed out, taking a pace forward to stand beside Stormfur. “You need to mark your borders.”
“We have never done that!” Stoneteller snapped. “That is not the way of the Tribe, and Stormfur knows it.”
Stormfur bowed his head. Lionpaw exchanged a glance with Hollypaw, seeing his own anger reflected in his sister’s eyes. How stupid could this old cat be, not only to banish Stormfur from the Tribe but then to refuse the help he offered when he came back?
“Stormfur did what he thought was best,” Squirrelflight broke in, her green gaze sparkling with annoyance. “So did Talon and Night. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in asking for help. Or would you rather let the Tribe die because you were too proud?”
Stoneteller took a pace toward the ginger she-cat, his neck fur bristling. Lionpaw tensed his muscles to spring if the Tribe’s leader tried to attack his mother.
Then the old cat’s tail drooped and the fur on his shoulders began to lie flat again. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting has sent me no signs about accepting help from the Clans.”
Turning to Brambleclaw, he added, “I mean no disrespect to you or your Clanmates. I know how much we owed you in the past, and I believe you mean well now.”
Brambleclaw opened his jaws to speak, but Stoneteller raised his tail for silence. “You should not have come,” he continued. “This is not your battle. You may stay here for tonight, but in the morning you will be escorted to the edge of the mountains, and you must not return.”
“And how do you mean to stop us?” Breezepaw growled from just behind Lionpaw.
For once, Lionpaw agreed with the WindClan apprentice.
The Tribe didn’t have the strength to back up Stoneteller’s orders. But he guessed that Brambleclaw wouldn’t stay where the Clans weren’t wanted.
“And what about us?” Brook demanded.
Stoneteller turned his amber gaze on her. “We cannot feed two more hungry bellies.”
Is that it? Shock froze Lionpaw’s paws in place and shivered through every hair on his pelt. Do we just turn around and go home without lifting a claw to help? He opened his jaws to protest, only to close them again when he caught Brambleclaw’s warning glance.
“We’re guests of the Tribe.” Brambleclaw padded over and fixed all four apprentices with a stern gaze. “We mustn’t cause trouble.”
“Not even when that stupid—”
“No.” Brambleclaw sighed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, but we mustn’t make things worse. Do you all understand that?”
“If you say so…” Lionpaw mewed reluctantly. Hollypaw and Jaypaw nodded agreement, and even Breezepaw growled, “Suppose so.”
A gray-brown Tribe she-cat trotted across the cave toward them. “Hi, Brambleclaw,” she greeted him. “Remember me?”
Brambleclaw put his head on one side. “Bird That Rides the Wind. You were with Talon when we first met.”
“That’s right,” Bird purred. “It’s good to see you again.
Stoneteller asked me to find you somewhere to sleep for the night. You and your warriors can come with me to the cave-guards’ place”—she flicked her tail toward one side of the cave—“and your apprentices can sleep with our to-bes.”
Lionpaw stiffened, wondering if Stoneteller wanted to split up the Clan cats so they could be attacked more easily.
But Brambleclaw agreed calmly, and common sense told Lionpaw that the Clans would have done exactly the same if a large group of cats had arrived to stay in their camps.
As Bird led the apprentices farther into the cave, Lionpaw craned his neck to look around. By now night had fallen and the moon had risen, turning the waterfall to a sheet of tumbling silver and shedding a soft, wavering light throughout the cave. He could see scattered rocks around the edges of the cave, and here and there cracks in the walls that led up to narrow ledges. From the roof, high above his head, talons of stone pointed down to the cave floor.
His belly rumbled as the scent of fresh-kill tickled his nostrils. At one side of the cave, Gray and his hunting party had brought in their eagle and were tearing it apart. I hope they give us some, Lionpaw thought. His last meal had been in the forest, which seemed like seasons ago now. There wasn’t much else on the fresh-kill pile: a couple of mice and a rabbit. No wonder they’re all so skinny!
Bird took them to the back of the cave, where a pair of tunnels led off into darkness. A few tail-lengths away two young cats were wrestling while three or four others looked on.
“These are our to-bes,” Bird announced.
The wrestling cats broke apart and sat up to stare at the newcomers. “Who are they?” a pale gray she-cat asked. “Are they prisoners?”
“No, Pebble, they’re guests,” Bird replied. “They’ll be staying with us tonight. Look after them and find them somewhere to sleep.”
“What, all four of them?” a black tom exclaimed. “There isn’t room.”
The gray she-cat gave him a hefty shove. “Don’t be so rude!” To the Clan apprentices she added, “Don’t pay any attention to Screech. He’s beetle-brained.”
“Beetle-brained yourself!” Screech muttered.
“You’ll be fine for one night,” Bird mewed briskly. With a friendly nod to the Clan cats she bounded back across the cave to where Brambleclaw and the others were waiting for her.
Lionpaw felt embarrassed as the to-bes crowded around him and the others, sniffing at them curiously. “I’m Lionpaw,” he meowed, trying to sound confident. “This is my sister, Hollypaw, and my brother, Jaypaw, and that’s Breezepaw.”
The gray she-cat dipped her head and stretched out one paw. The gesture surprised Lionpaw, though he had to admit it looked polite. “I am Pebble That Rolls Down Mountain,” she told them, “and this annoying furball is my brother, Screech of Angry Owl.”
Screech curled his lip at his sister, before extending his paw in the same polite gesture. Lionpaw dipped his head in return, hoping the Tribe to-bes wouldn’t think he and the others hadn’t been mentored properly.