TB MOONRISE -- Chapter 21

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It was drizzling as Talon led the way back towards Tribe territory. Feathertail looked up at the clouds, her pelt fluffed. The snow from the night before hadn’t stuck, and it seemed like this gust of warmth and rain might be the mountain’s last gasp of freed-water before snow and ice claimed the peaks for the season.

The half-moon glowed down at the world through the clouds, bathing the stone and the cats traveling amongst it in silver light. As the group crossed the into the Tribe’s territory, Mistyfoot took the lead, and the Clan cats surrounded the exiles as they made their way towards the Path of Rushing Water.

I hope this works, she thought, glancing at Bird. The Tribe she-cat’s eyes were shot with longing, and Feathertail spotted her gaze lingering more than once on the landmarks they passed. She wasn’t the only one thinking of home, either. If this does work, Feathertail thought resolutely, we’ll all get to go home.

She looked over her friends, her heart thudding in her ears. Each one looked so confident, so unwavering, their pawsteps sure even on the slick stones. Feathertail turned her gaze forward, hearing the roar of the waterfall ahead, pounding and crashing through the drizzle.

Feathertail looked to Mistyfoot. The blue-gray she-cat’s pawsteps were certain as she led the way through the rocks. Though she couldn’t see her expression, Feathertail couldn’t forget the look that the ThunderClan she-cat had donned before they set off – her blue eyes hard, her shoulders set and chin held high…

She looks like her mother, Feathertail thought with a shudder. Bluestar had been the most fearsome cat in the Clan’s recent memory – it didn’t take much to recall how she had united RiverClan and ShadowClan, almost taking over the whole forest. It made Feathertail uncomfortable to think of Mistyfoot as anywhere near Bluestar’s level of power. Perhaps she needs that strength now, to save Stormfur.

The rocks and cliffs opened up, moonlight shining down onto the Path of Rushing Water and reflecting in the pool. Almost as soon as they set their paws beside the water, a line of Tribe cats appeared from behind the waterfall, their eyes glowering down at them.

“Keep calm,” Stoneheart meowed quietly. “Remember the plan.”

Feathertail blinked up at the Tribe cats. Boulder and Sheer were there, and she didn’t miss the way Boulder’s eyes caught on Jag and widened, just a touch. They must be kin, she thought. Both cave-guards stepped aside as Mistyfoot led the way up the Path and into the cave.

Boulder and Sheer said nothing, taking up the rear. Feathertail resisted the urge to shake her fur of the rain, conscious of her own nerves and the eyes of the Tribe cats as they took in their new guests. Sheer immediately made for the Cavern of Reflection, to call for Stoneteller, as they entered the dark cave. Their escort stopped them in the center to wait, and soon enough they were surrounded by the Tribe.

“What are you doing here?” hissed Red, his eyes blazing from the shadows. “You’re all supposed to be dead!”

Rock hissed, but said nothing more. Feathertail put herself between the exiles and their former Tribemates. Not every cat was indignant at the return of their ‘dead’ comrades, however – Feathertail spotted more than one looking shocked and relieved.

Brook was one of them.

Feathertail followed the small tabby’s gaze to Talon, who was looking back at her with equal relief. She looked between them, and realized that the littermate that Brook had talked about hadn’t died after all – it was Talon.

Brook’s gaze flashed to meet Feathertail’s eye. There was gratitude there, happiness that she could see her littermate again. Feathertail broke the look as quickly as she could, her stomach roiling. I still don’t know if I forgive you! She thought bitterly. I can’t think about it now. There’s so much to do!

“Why have you returned?” rasped Stoneteller. The old tom was making his way out of the Cavern of Reflection, Snow and Sheer by his side and behind them, escorted by Crag, was Stormfur.

He looked fine, though his fur was ruffled. His eyes brightened on Feathertail and Mistyfoot and the others, and he lunged for them – only to be blocked by Crag’s massive body. He struggled, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth it, backing down with a curled lip.

Feathertail swallowed. They were absolutely encircled by Tribe cats now – if this plan didn’t work, there was no way they were getting out of here without torn pelts, if they made it at all. I’m not leaving without Stormfur! She thought decisively, planting her paws. None of us are!

“I think they mean to trade these exiles for their Clanmate,” Sheer guessed.

Stoneteller’s gaze raked over the Clan cats, but that wasn’t what made Feathertail’s pelt chill over – the old Tribe leader looked right through Talon and the other exiles, as if they weren’t even there. Even Snow looked impassive, her gaze trained on Mistyfoot rather than the much bigger, more threatening Jag or Talon. It’s as if they don’t exist at all to them!

“Yes,” Mistyfoot meowed in reply, padding forward, “and no.”

Stoneteller’s eyes sharpened, and Snow stiffened. The white she-cat flicked her tail. “There’s nothing to be done, now. You must leave,” she warned, “before Sharptooth returns.” Her eyes softened, as did her tone. “We are sorry about Stormfur, but--”

“I’m not interested in your apologies!” Mistyfoot snapped, her neck fur rising briefly. In a smoother voice, she meowed, “We want your cooperation.”

“We have a plan to stop Sharptooth!” Nightpaw declared, his ice-blue eyes bright in the darkness.

The Tribe murmured among themselves, eyes flashing and tails lashing. Lip curled, Gray meowed, “And what do you think you can do that we haven’t tried before?”

Nightpaw hesitated, but then went on, “Well, I don’t know if you’ve tried this before or not, but…” He stepped aside, letting Shadepaw and Crowpaw come forward. Between them they held the limp body of a rabbit, their jaws carefully clamped at its furthest ends.

Feathertail shivered. Carrying the rabbit had been a job that Shadepaw had insisted on doing herself, but Crowpaw had helped her despite her protests of how dangerous it would be. Together, they had done their best to keep the rabbit dry and stable. It wouldn’t do if it had gotten lost or ruined somehow.

Shadepaw and Crowpaw very carefully laid down the rabbit between the groups. Raising her muzzle, which was flecked with a little blood, Shadepaw explained, “You taught me of a berry in the mountains that kills cats within moments – you call them night seeds, but we in the Clans call them deathberries. If only one is deadly to us…”

“… then this many would bring down a Twoleg,” hissed Crowpaw, nudging the stuffed rabbit with his paw, “let alone whatever this Sharptooth is.”

There was a hesitant murmuring among the Tribe cats. Feathertail glanced at them, wondering if this was an avenue they’d explored before – it seemed like it wasn’t. Have they only thought of fighting Sharptooth directly? She didn’t blame them for failing to think of something more subtle; losing Tribemate after Tribemate had, as the exiles had explained, made them desperate.

Stoneteller’s eyes flickered. He growled, finally, “The Tribe does not need the aid of the Clans – if you help us, you risk dooming your own prophecy. You have no responsibility here. Stormfur is all we need.”

Feathertail bristled. “If a Tribe cat were part of a Clan prophecy, we would let you help us!” she insisted. “It should work the other way around. Both Tribe and Clan have a right to exist, together – we don’t need to be enemies. At least hear us out!”

Stoneteller curled his lip, but said nothing. Snow looked nervous, her eyes traveling over her Tribemates as if to gauge their reactions. There was definite doubt in their eyes – clearly, they weren’t all sold on the idea that only Stormfur could aid them.

“Tell us your plan,” Snow decided.

“Like we said,” Stoneheart meowed, “there are enough deathberries in this rabbit to bring down a Twoleg – at the very least, it will weaken this Sharptooth so that a final blow can be struck.”

“That’s it?” Crag wondered, his tail-tip flicking. “That’s all you have?”

Talon’s eye rested on Crag. “Give us more, then,” he suggested. Feathertail didn’t miss the way Crag lowered his gaze and shifted his paws awkwardly. Talon went on, his sharp eyes sweeping over the Tribe that had disowned he and his friends, “If anyone else has any better ideas, please; we’re willing to listen – or do you all really think that Sharptooth can be felled by one cat, and one cat alone, when whole patrols couldn’t do the job?”

No cat responded.

“This is the best idea,” Stormfur meowed patiently, looking at Stoneteller. “Please… what have you to lose by trying?”

Stoneteller said nothing. Feathertail’s claws dug into the stone. These are your cats; they’re looking to you! Have you really given up so completely?

“Sharptooth’s scent was at the end of the Path of Rushing water as the sunset,” Snow admitted, her body trembling with fear. “We have little time to think of anything more.”

“If it doesn’t strike tonight, it will be tomorrow,” Red added. He raised his muzzle and yowled, “Well? If we’re to die, wouldn’t our ancestors rather we die fighting?”

Feathertail swallowed, surprised. She’d expected Red to be most against their idea, but the ginger tom was stepping forward to stand with the Tribe and Talon’s exiles. Sun burst from the crowd, following him. Her gaze was apologetic as she looked at the Clan cats, and Feathertail recalled how sullen she had been when the Clan cats had been forced to leave.

“I want to avenge my mother,” she meowed. “And every other cat who’s died – and I’d rather die trying something than lie down and do nothing!”

The young cat’s words seemed to further uplift the Tribe. More and more cats moved to stand with Red and Sun, until it was clear – the Tribe would die fighting, even if their Stoneteller refused.

Finally, resigned, the old tabby got to his paws. “Very well,” he rasped. Thunder rumbled outside, and Stoneteller’s eyes widened slightly. The rain began to fall more heavily. His voice strong, Stoneteller declared, “The storm has come. We will all fight.”

Stormfur surged forward again and, as if Stoneteller’s words had freed him, Crag let him go – the big gray tom crashed into the Clan cats, meeting Mistyfoot nose-first and purring like a Twoleg monster. Feathertail thrust her muzzle forward and buried it into his flank, relief flooding her as she breathed in her littermate’s scent. I thought I might never see you again!

“You shouldn’t have come back for me,” Stormfur murmured to them. He pulled away and looked into Mistyfoot’s eyes. “The Clans are more important than me!”

“Mouse-brain!” Shadepaw breathed, her eyes shining with relief. “Did you really think we would just leave you?”

“You’re our friend,” Crowpaw rasped, choked with emotion.

Nightpaw rose onto his hind paws to cuff Stormfur around the ear. “You’re our family!”

Stormfur struggled to speak, swallowing. Nightpaw and Crowpaw wound around him, and Shadepaw licked his ear. Stoneheart butted his head against Stormfur’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t very well leave behind the best battle-partner I’ve ever had,” the ShadowClan warrior admitted, his pale eyes brimming with care.

“And I never would have left you,” Feathertail breathed, touching her nose to Stormfur’s. “Not like this.”

“Nothing is more important than unity,” Mistyfoot insisted, her eyes sparkling with sentiment. “Remember?”

Stormfur locked eyes with her, and Feathertail saw something pass there that she didn’t understand. Mistyfoot brushed her muzzle against Stormfur’s, and the two huddled together, their tails twining. Feathertail blinked, her heart warm.

I don’t have to understand, she thought. And that’s okay.

She looked into the crowd and spotted Brook, who was looking at her with eyes filled with affection and a hint of fear. Feathertail took a deep breath, realizing that she wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and breathe in Brook’s gentle scent.

I understand now, though, Mothwing. Feathertail realized. Something in her heart broke free and lifted, no longer bound to her, no longer dragging its weight. You had your path… and I think I might have mine, now.

“This is well and good,” Jag grunted, glowering at the Clan cats, “but we need to put paws to stone.”

“Right,” Mistyfoot agreed, nodding. Her blue eyes had softened, but Feathertail saw that they still retained some of that strength that she had forced for this battle. Mistyfoot dipped her head to the exiles. “Be safe.”

“Our ancestors will watch over us,” Rock promised. The brown tom was bristling. “I’ll make that monster pay yet for swallowing my tail.”

“And for killing our friends and family,” Bird added.

“Prepare yourselves!” Talon yowled. All eyes turned to him, silence spreading throughout the cave. The big tabby got to his paws, turning to face his former Tribemates. He raised his paw; Jag, Rock, and Bird followed suit. Talon’s good eye raked over every cat, his voice growing ominous: “Sharptooth comes!”

Together, the four exiles bit their teeth into their pads until blood gushed out and onto the rabbit – and together, yowling and howling, the four dashed from the cave, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

StarClan watch them, Feathertail prayed. Tribe of Endless Hunting, speed them on their way!

“Cave-guards!” Stoneheart called, immediately turning to the tactics he and Talon had prepared, “You’re the front line! Prey-hunters, when Sharptooth is distracted you move in and give it everything you have!”

Mistyfoot pulled away from Stormfur, looking over the gathered cats as they rushed into positions. None of them cared whether it was a Tribe cat or a Clan one giving the orders; they had to act fast. Mistyfoot raised her voice and yowled, “Kits, queens, elders – hide in the Cavern of Reflection!”

“Sun, Wing, Flight,” Crowpaw ordered, “with us!” The three to-bes clustered close to Nightpaw, Crowpaw, and Shadepaw. Crowpaw’s height gave him the advantage, and he looked over each of them. “We don’t take risks, but we’re not sitting this out, either. Only go in when Sharptooth is distracted by the older cats.”

Sun nodded, raising her chin. “We’ll show that monster that our claws are just as sharp!”

“Yeah!” chorused Wing and Flight, over a crash of thunder.

Feathertail spread her gaze over the Tribe cats as they worked. The last of the kits were ushered into the Cavern of Reflection, with Stoneteller following them at Snow’s urging. When Crag tried to take her place at the mouth of the cave, the white she-cat denied him.

“Sharptooth killed my sister, Crag. I will die myself before I see that creature defile our ancestor’s holy place,” Snow declared, her eyes burning.

“Spread out!” Feathertail called over the din. “And stay quiet! They’ll be back any moment now!”

“The rabbit is in position!” huffed Stormfur, Mistyfoot at his side. He nodded back to the mouth of the cave, where the blood-covered rabbit was but a small silouhette in the moonlit rainstorm. Lightning flashed, turning its limp fur to silver.

Feathertail blinked at her brother, her breath catching in her throat. If she never saw him again, this was how she wanted to remember him – standing tall and proud, his amber eyes burning with determination and the moonlight turning his fur to silver. If RiverClan could see him now, there would be no question who would lead the Clan next.

There will never be a better littermate. Feathertail glanced at Mistyfoot, who had taken up a position beside Stormfur, her claws unsheathed and her muscles tense. Whatever happens… I hope he’s happy.

The cats were in position now, a line of cave-guards set before a spread line of prey-hunters. Feathertail found herself standing between Red and Brook, their pelts brushing. She took in a deep breath, drinking in their scents, their determination and strength and a healthy tinge of fear. Her limbs stopped trembling, her heart eased, and that moment of clear-headed calm that preceded every battle stretched before her, out into the storm.

We can do this, she thought, narrowing her eyes at the wavering waterfall. We can.

The water shimmered, wavered – with a loud caterwaul, the scent of blood washed through the cave. Talon crashed through the water, Bird skidding into the cave behind him. There was a horrible sound, like a yowl but deeper, a jagged sound that made Feathertail’s ear fur tremble. Jag and Rock crashed into the cave next, bristling to the ends of their fur.

“It comes!” howled Jag, his voice hoarse.

The horrible roar came again, accompanied by thunder as the four exiles hastily slid into position with their Tribemates. Feathertail could smell their fear-scent, hear their ragged breathing as they struggled to stay calm.

Lightning struck outside, then, highlighting a large shadow just outside of the waterfall. A smell like cat, but not, tinged with rotten meat, wafted into the cave as Sharptooth prowled in behind the waterfall.

Feathertail swallowed. This creature was bigger than any predator she had ever seen, like the legends of LionClan or TigerClan come to life, but lacking their majesty. Its teeth alone were the size of Feathertail’s head – no wonder if killed cats with such ease! Sharptooth rumbled as it paused before the poisoned rabbit, bending down to sniff the fresh-kill.

Please, take it! She pleaded. So much of their plan hinged on the creature being weakened in any way.

But Sharptooth’s eyes flashed like little moons as thunder pealed outside, comparing the insignificant morsel of rabbit to the line of cats before it – with a heave of its massive paw, it swept away the rabbit with ease. It limply struck the cave wall, one of the deathberries spilling out from its belly. Lightning struck again, highlighting Sharptooth’s muscles as it tensed.

“No!” breathed Brook, trembling. “Oh, ancestors, help us!”

With a roar, it sprang.