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BROOK WHERE SMALL FISH SWIM (BROOK)—brown tabby she-cat (two kits: Lark That Sings at Dawn—Lark—pale tabby she-cat, and Pine That Clings to Rock—Pine—light brown tom)

NIGHT OF NO STARS (NIGHT)—black she-cat (expecting Sheer’s kits)

TO-BES (Tribe apprentices)

DARK SHADOW ON WATER (DARK)—black tom (prey-hunter)

SNOW FALLING ON STONES (SNOW)—white she-cat (cave-guard)

RAIN THAT PASSES QUICKLY (RAIN)—gray speckled she-cat (cave-guard)

ELDERS (former prey-hunters and cave-guards, now retired)

TALON OF SWOOPING EAGLE (TALON)—dark brown tabby tom

BIRD THAT RIDES THE WIND (BIRD)—gray-brown she-cat

CLOUD WITH STAR IN BELLY (CLOUD)—pale gray she-cat

OTHER CATS IN MOUNTAINS

FLORA—dark brown-and-white she-cat with green eyes

THE ANCIENTS

BROKEN SHADOW—slender orange she-cat with white paws and amber eyes

WHISPERING BREEZE—silver-gray she-cat with blue eyes

STONE SONG—dark gray tabby tom with blue eyes

CHASING CLOUDS—gray-and-white tom with blue eyes

FURLED BRACKEN—dark ginger tabby tom with amber eyes

CLOUDY SUN—pale ginger she-cat with green eyes

RUNNING HORSE—dark brown tom with yellow eyes

RISING MOON—gray-and-white she-cat with blue eyes

JAGGED LIGHTNING—black-and-white tom with amber eyes

SHY FAWN—dusty brown she-cat with amber eyes

DAWN RIVER—tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes

FISH LEAP—brown tabby tom with amber eyes

HALF MOON—white she-cat with green eyes

OWL FEATHER—wiry brown she-cat with yellow eyes

JAY’S WING—gray tabby tom with blue eyes

DOVE’S WING— pale gray she-cat with blue eyes

Map

Prologue

Water thundered down from the mountaintop, screening the entrance to the cave with a shimmering cascade. Gray light filtered through it and shadows gathered in the corners of the cavern like soft black wings. Near the sheet of falling water, two kits were scuffling over a bunch of feathers, batting it back and forth and letting out shrill squeals of excitement. The pale tabby fur of the little she-cat and the tom’s brown pelt almost blended into the dark stone floor.

At the back of the cave, an old brown tabby tom was crouching in the mouth of a tunnel. His eyes were narrowed, and his amber gaze never left the kits. He was motionless, except for the occasional twitch of his ears.

The tabby kit leaped high into the air, clawing at the feathers; as she landed with the bunch in her paws her brother flung himself on top of her, rolling over and snapping at the feathers with teeth like tiny white thorns.

“That’s enough.” A gentle voice came from close by as a graceful brown tabby she-cat rose to her paws and padded across to the kits. “Mind you don’t get too close to the water. And Pine, why don’t you try jumping high like Lark? You need to practice for when you’re a prey-hunter.”

“I’d rather be a cave-guard,” Pine mewed. “I’d fight every cat that tried to trespass on our territory.”

“Well, you can’t, because I will,” Lark retorted. “I’m going to be a cave-guard and hunt prey, so there!”

“That’s not how we do things,” their mother began; a swift glance over her shoulder showed that she was aware of the old cat watching from the shadows. “Every Tribe kit has to—”

She broke off at the sound of paw steps coming from the narrow path that led behind the waterfall and into the cave. A broad-shouldered gray-furred cat appeared, followed by the rest of his patrol. Instantly the kits let out squeals of welcome and hurled themselves at him.

“Careful!” Their mother followed and gathered the kits in with her tail. “Your father has been on border patrol. He must be tired.”

“I’m fine, Brook.” The gray tom blinked at her affectionately and gave her ear a quick lick. “It was an easy trip today.”

“Stormfur, I don’t know how you can say that!” a black tom put in, shaking water from his pelt as he left the cliff path. “We waste our time and wear out our paws patrolling that border, and for what?”

“Peace and quiet,” Stormfur replied, his voice even. “We aren’t going to get rid of those cats, even though we do think they’re intruders. The best we can hope for is to protect our own territory.”

“The whole of the mountains should be our territory!” the black tom spat.

“Give it a rest, Screech,” a dark ginger she-cat meowed, with an irritable twitch of her tail. “Stormfur’s right. Things aren’t like that anymore.”

“But are we safe?” asked Brook. She glanced at the kits, who were now tussling over a morsel of rabbit fur.

“The borders are holding, mostly,” Stormfur told Brook, a worried look in his amber eyes. “But we did pick up the scent of other cats in a couple of places. And there were eagle feathers scattered on the rock. They’ve been stealing prey again.”

The ginger she-cat shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do about that.”

“We can’t just let it go, Swoop,” Stormfur murmured. “Otherwise they’ll think they can do exactly what they like, and there was no point in setting the borders in the first place. I think we should increase the patrols and be ready to fight.”

“More patrols?” Screech lashed his tail angrily.

“It makes sense to—”

“No!”

Stormfur jumped as a voice rasped out from the shadows and he saw the old tabby cat standing a tail-length away.

“Stoneteller!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Evidently.” The old cat’s neck fur was bristling and there was a trace of anger in his eyes. “There will be no more patrols,” he went on. “The Tribe has enough to eat, and with the thaw approaching, there will soon be more prey: eggs and young birds stolen from nests.”

Stormfur looked as if he wanted to argue, but he picked up a flickering glance from Brook and a tiny shake of her head. Reluctantly he dipped his head to Stoneteller. “Very well.”

The old cat stalked away. Making an effort to flatten the ruffled fur on his neck, Stormfur turned to his kits. “Have you behaved yourselves today?”

“They’ve been very good,” Brook told him, her eyes warm. “Lark is growing so strong and sturdy, and Pine jumps really well.”

“We’ve been hunting,” Lark announced, pointing with her tail toward the bedraggled lump of feathers. “I caught three eagles!”

“Didn’t,” Pine contradicted her. “I killed one, or it would have flown away with you!”

Brook met Stormfur’s eyes. “I can’t seem to make them understand that they’ll have separate duties when they’re to-bes.”

“They shouldn’t have to decide now,” Stormfur began, only to break off as Brook flicked her tail toward Stoneteller, who was still in earshot. He let out a sigh. “They’ll learn,” he murmured, a trace of regret in his tone. “Is there any fresh-kill left? I’m starving!”

As Brook led Stormfur over to the fresh-kill pile, to-bes and their mentors headed back into the cave, and Stormfur’s kits shot across the cavern floor to intercept them.

“Tell us about outside!” Lark squeaked. “Did you catch any prey?”

“I want to go out,” Pine added.

One of the to-bes butted his shoulder gently with his head. “You’re too small. An eagle would eat you in one bite.”