WINDCLAN
LEADER HEATHERSTAR—pinkish-gray she-cat with blue eyes
DEPUTY REEDFEATHER—light brown tabby tom
MEDICINE CAT HAWKHEART—mottled gray-and-brown tom with yellow eyes
WARRIORS (toms and she-cats without kits)
MOOR RUNNERS (cats responsible for aboveground hunting and border patrols)
REDCLAW—dark ginger tom
HAREFLIGHT—light brown tom
ASPENFALL—gray-and-white tom
APPRENTICE, DOEPAW
CLOUDRUNNER—pale gray tom
APPRENTICE, STAGPAW
DAWNSTRIPE—pale gold tabby she-cat with creamy stripes
LARKSPLASH—tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat
APPRENTICE, RYEPAW
APPLEDAWN—rose-cream she-cat
TUNNELERS (cats specializing in hunting and digging tunnels belowground)
SANDGORSE—pale ginger tom
WOOLLYTAIL—gray-and-white tom
HICKORYNOSE—brown tom
MISTMOUSE—light brown tabby she-cat
PLUMCLAW—dark gray she-cat
APPRENTICES (more than six moons old, in training to become warriors)
DOEPAW—light brown she-cat
STAGPAW—dark brown tom
RYEPAW—gray tabby she-cat
QUEENS (she-cats expecting or nursing kits)
PALEBIRD—black-and-white she-cat
BRACKENWING—pale ginger she-cat
MEADOWSLIP—gray she-cat
ELDERS (former warriors and queens, now retired)
WHITEBERRY—small pure white tom
FLAMEPELT—dark ginger tom
LILYWHISKER—light brown she-cat
FLAILFOOT—black tom
SHADOWCLAN
LEADER CEDARSTAR—very dark gray tom with a white belly
DEPUTY STONETOOTH—gray tabby tom with long teeth
MEDICINE CAT SAGEWHISKER—white she-cat with long whiskers
WARRIORS
CROWTAIL—black tabby she-cat
BRACKENFOOT—pale ginger tom with dark ginger legs
ARCHEYE—gray tabby tom with black stripes and thick stripe over eye
APPRENTICE, FROGPAW
HOLLYFLOWER—dark-gray-and-white she-cat
APPRENTICE, NEWTPAW
MUDCLAW—gray tom with brown legs
TOADSKIP—dark brown tabby tom with white splashes and white legs
APPRENTICE, ASHPAW
NETTLESPOT—white she-cat with ginger flecks
MOUSEWING—thick-furred black tom
DEERLEAP—gray tabby she-cat with white legs
AMBERLEAF—dark orange she-cat with brown legs and ears
FINCHFLIGHT—black-and-white tom
BLIZZARDWING—mottled white tom
LIZARDSTRIPE—pale brown tabby she-cat with white belly
QUEENS
FEATHERSTORM—dark brown tabby
BRIGHTFLOWER—orange tabby
POOLCLOUD—gray-and-white she-cat
ELDERS
LITTLEBIRD—small ginger tabby she-cat
LIZARDFANG—light brown tabby tom with one hooked tooth
SILVERFLAME—orange-and-gray she-cat
THUNDERCLAN
LEADER PINESTAR—red-brown tom with green eyes
DEPUTY SUNFALL—bright ginger tom with yellow eyes
MEDICINE CAT GOOSEFEATHER—speckled gray tom with pale blue eyes
APPRENTICE, FEATHERPAW
WARRIORS STORMTAIL—blue-gray tom, blue eyes
DAPPLETAIL—tortoiseshell she-cat
ADDERFANG—mottled brown tabby tom with yellow eyes
TAWNYSPOTS—light gray tabby tom
HALFTAIL—big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing and yellow eyes
SMALLEAR—gray tom with very small ears and amber eyes
ROBINWING—small, energetic brown she-cat with ginger patch on her chest and amber eyes
APPRENTICE, LEOPARDPAW
FUZZYPELT—black tom with fur that perpetually stands on end and yellow eyes
APPRENTICE, PATCHPAW
WINDFLIGHT—gray tabby tom with pale green eyes
QUEENS
MOONFLOWER—silver-gray she-cat with pale yellow eyes
POPPYDAWN—long-haired dark brown she-cat
ELDERS
WEEDWHISKER—pale orange tom with yellow eyes
MUMBLEFOOT—brown tom with amber eyes
LARKSONG—tortoiseshell she-cat with pale green eyes
RIVERCLAN
LEADER HAILSTAR—thick-pelted gray tom
DEPUTY SHELLHEART—dappled gray tom
MEDICINE CAT BRAMBLEBERRY—white she-cat with black spotted fur, blue eyes, and a pink nose
WARRIORS
RIPPLECLAW—black-and-silver tabby tom
TIMBERFUR—brown tom
APPRENTICE, WHITEPAW
MUDFUR—long-haired light brown tom
OWLFUR—brown-and-white tom
OTTERSPLASH—pale ginger-and-white she-cat
MARSHCLOUD—brown tabby tom, stout and short-tailed
MUDTHORN—brown tom with black ears
BRIGHTSKY—nimble ginger-and-white she-cat
PIKETOOTH—skinny brown tabby tom with narrow face and protruding canine teeth
LAKESHINE—long-haired gray-and-white she-cat
SHIMMERPELT—night-black she-cat with glossy pelt
FALLOWTAIL—light brown she-cat with blue eyes
APPRENTICE, SOFTPAW
QUEENS
ECHOMIST—long-haired gray she-cat
LILYSTEM—pale gray she-cat
ELDERS
TROUTCLAW—gray tabby tom
TANGLEFUR—long-haired tabby with thick knotted pelt
BIRDSONG—tabby-and-white she-cat with ginger patches around her muzzle, flecked with gray
CATS OUTSIDE THE CLANS
SPARROW—dark brown tom
BESS—black she-cat with white paws
MOLE—dark gray tom
ALGERNON—creamy-brown tom
REENA—ginger she-cat
JAKE—ginger tom
QUINCE—gray she-cat
JAY—black-and-white she-cat
PIXIE—fluffy white she-cat
MARMALADE—large ginger tom
RED—orange she-cat
NUTMEG—tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat
PROLOGUE
The dark moor rose to meet the night-black sky. Starry pelts sparked like flint against the trembling heather. Grass streamed around the paws of WindClan's former warriors as they sat, whiskers stiff, unbowed by the wind. "Welcome to StarClan, Heatherstar." A sleek tom with starshine glowing in his pelt faced the young WindClan leader. "I have watched you serve your Clanmates with bravery and loyalty as their deputy, and now I am honored to give you a life as their leader." Heatherstar dipped her head. "Thank you, Thrushpelt." "I died a medicine cat," the tom reminded her. "But before that, I was a warrior. I never hesitated to fight for what I knew to be right, however hard that seemed. I give you your eighth life and, with it, the courage to trust your instincts. When your heart speaks, listen." Leaning forward, he touched his nose to Heatherstar's head. As the new life pulsed through her, the gray cat groaned through clenched jaws. Thrushpelt stepped back and glanced over his shoulder. "Daisytail?" A light brown she-cat with ginger patches padded from among her Clanmates, her fur blazing with silver light. "Do you know me?" she gently asked Heatherstar. Heatherstar lifted her head and drew in a shuddering breath. "Yes! I have heard your name many times. You refused to let your kits fight against ShadowClan, and your insistence was so strong, it became part of the Clan code." Daisytail nodded. "From then on, no kit was allowed to train for battle before they were six moons old. I would have taken on each of those ShadowClan warriors myself before I let my little ones suffer a single blow. Even though you do not have kits of your own, Heatherstar, I want you to share the strength of my conviction. For your ninth life I give you the force of a mother's love. Use it to protect your Clan." She pressed her muzzle to Heatherstar's head. "It is stronger than the wind and outlasts life itself." Heatherstar rocked as a spasm gripped her. She lurched forward and stumbled onto her knees. A mottled gray-brown tom stepped forward. "Heatherstar?" He leaned down to the new WindClan leader. "Are you okay?" Daisytail flicked her tail. "She is strong, Hawkheart. I can feel it." Heatherstar straightened up. "I'm fine," she told the tom. Trembling, she faced StarClan. "I promise that I will make WindClan a force to be respected among all the Clans of the forest. I will lead them well through my nine lives. And when I join you, I hope you will welcome me with pride at what I have achieved." Murmurs of approval rose among the ranks of starry pelts. "Remember," Daisytail called, "there is no power stronger than love!" As she spoke, StarClan blurred and began to spiral upward like a comet's tail, into the midnight sky. "We should return to the Moonstone," Hawkheart murmured in Heatherstar's ear. Heatherstar shook her head. "I'm not ready to leave StarClan." Hawkheart watched the glimmering pelts fade. "But they've gone." "Their scent remains." Heatherstar swished her tail stubbornly. "Then I'll meet you at Mothermouth when you wake." Turning, Hawkheart padded down the slope, his pelt melting into the shadows until he was hardly visible against the heather. "The Clan will be waiting for us at home." "I won't be long." Heatherstar watched the medicine cat vanish. Still unsteady, she climbed the moor, moving slowly at first but growing stronger with each step as the new lives throbbed beneath her fur. She broke into a run, charging across the windswept grass, her whiskers flattened against her face. She stopped suddenly as the moor dropped away. Balancing at the edge of the sandy precipice, Heatherstar gazed across woods and meadows stretching into darkness. Paw steps sounded behind her. "Why do you linger here?" The mew was soft. Heatherstar turned, blinking. The fading pelt of an ancient warrior shimmered in front of her. "I wanted to breathe the scents of StarClan for a while longer," she confessed. "Who . . . who are you?" "I am Mothflight." The she-cat's green eyes shone. Behind her, the heather showed through her coat. Her pelt, once white, now glowed dimly, more starlight than fur. "Mothflight?" Heatherstar's eyes widened. "You were WindClan's first medicine cat!" Mothflight nodded. "You discovered the Moonstone," Heatherstar whispered. "And now you've come to see me?" "I watched your naming ceremony," Mothflight told her. "And waited for the others to leave so that I could speak with you alone." "Do you have a prophecy for me?" Heatherstar curled her claws excitedly into the peaty soil. "Not a prophecy, no. A warning, perhaps." Mothflight's voice was hardly more than a breath on the wind. Heatherstar leaned closer, ears pricking. "Listen carefully, Heatherstar," Mothflight insisted. "Whatever happens, do not demand the loyalty of your Clan." Heatherstar lifted her head in surprise. "Of course I'll demand it! I've earned it." "Warriors must decide for themselves where their loyalty lies." "It should lie with the Clan and with me," Heatherstar hissed. "But you cannot test it." Heatherstar bristled. "I'm their leader." Mothflight's tail twitched. "You are young. Wisdom will come with experience. Until then, let my words guide you." Heatherstar snorted. "I will make the decisions for my Clan." "Of course," Mothflight soothed. "But you don't yet realize that sometimes warriors must leave what they love before they understand what they truly value." "Leave what they love?" Heatherstar echoed. "Do you mean their Clan?" Mothflight stared back silently. "Warriors who leave their Clan betray their Clan," Heatherstar spat. "My Clan will be loyal." "There will be a warrior whose loyalty to WindClan will waver," Mothflight told her. "A cat who will have to seek far beyond the confines of your territory to discover where his heart truly lies." Heatherstar curled her lip. "Are you telling me that one of my Clan will turn rogue?" Mothflight blinked, her eyes like green stars. "He will stray, and you must let him, even if you fear he will never return. It is the only way he will discover where he truly belongs."
CHAPTER 1
"Be careful, Tallkit!" Tallkit paused when he heard Palebird's anxious call. "I'll be okay!" he mewed. He glanced back at the nursery. The warm, milky scent of his mother drifted from the entrance. Inside the thick gorse den, Brackenwing soothed her. "Barkkit and Shrewkit will watch out for him, I promise." Tallkit shivered. This was only his second sunrise outside the nursery, and his paws pricked with excitement. A light dusting of snow had turned the camp white, frosting the tussocky grass and thick heather walls. The freezing air stung his nose. He fluffed up his fur. Barkkit pawed at the white tip of Tallkit's black tail. "You look like you're turning to ice as well." Tallkit flicked his tail away, purring with amusement. His white muzzle and white paws would just make it easier for him to hide in the snow! Shrewkit bounced past him. "Let's show him the Hunting Stones, Barkkit!" Tallkit stared at his denmates. They were three moons older and twice his size, but he was determined to keep up with them. "I thought we were going to climb Tallrock again," he protested. "I know I'll make it this time." His eyes stung in the bright, cold air. He'd only opened them for the first time a few sunrises ago and they were still slowly adjusting to sunlight after the cozy gloom of the nursery. He blinked up at the high slab of granite where Barkkit had told him Heatherstar stood to address the Clan. It loomed, jagged and dark, from a wide, sandy crater, which encircled it like an empty pool. The Meeting Hollow. Tallkit gazed into it wide-eyed. At the bottom, Heatherstar, Hawkheart, and Reedfeather huddled beside the stone, their breath billowing as they spoke. Hawkheart looked up and caught Tallkit's eye over the rim. "Our youngest kit is exploring again," he murmured. Tallkit shifted his paws. The dark glint in the medicine cat's gaze made him nervous. Palebird had warned him to stay away from the gray-brown tom; he had little patience for kits. "Stay under cover, Tallkit." Hawkheart narrowed his eyes. "We don't want you attracting buzzards to the camp." "Buzzards?" Tallkit's heart lurched. "Kits are their favorite prey," Hawkheart warned. "And they can spot you from Highstones." Reedfeather's whiskers twitched. "Don't scare the poor kit." There was a purr in his throat as he nodded to Shrewkit, who had popped up beside Tallkit. "What are you showing him today?" Shrewkit flicked his tail. "The Hunting Stones." Heatherstar shook frost from her thick gray pelt. "Be careful," she cautioned. "The stones will be icy." "Don't come mewling to me if you sprain a paw," Hawkheart called. "Come," the WindClan leader urged her deputy and medicine cat. "It's too cold to sit here. Let's go to my den."As Heatherstar hopped out of the Meeting Hollow, Hawkheart and Reedfeather followed, their tails twitching as they ducked into the shelter of the leader's den beneath a gorse bush at the far end of the clearing. "Can we play sliding in the hollow?" Barkkit mewed. "I want to go to the Hunting Stones," Shrewkit insisted. He scraped up a pawful of snow and flung it at Barkkit. The wind snatched the flakes and tossed them back into his whiskers. As he sneezed, Barkkit purred with amusement. "Wow! You're scary!" "I'll show you!" Shrewkit hurled himself at his brother and sent him rolling over the grass. Tallkit backed away as their dark brown pelts scuffed the snow. It must be fun to have a littermate to play fight with. If only Finchkit hadn't died. Shrewkit leaped free of his brother's grip. "Look at Tallkit!" he teased. "He's blinking like he's just opened his eyes!" Tallkit bristled. "I'm nearly half a moon old and Sandgorse says I opened my eyes quicker than any kit in the nursery." He glared at his denmates. "I'm just not used to snow." The ground sparkled, and the heather that formed the camp boundary—so dark against the sky yesterday—now glittered brightly with frost. What would the moor look like when the heavy snows came and the world turned completely white? Palebird had warned Tallkit that leaf-bare hit WindClan hardest of all the Clans, because the moor touched the sky. But this also made them more special, and safer. "We're closer to Silverpelt than any Clan," she'd told him as she snuggled him in their mossy nest. "Which means that StarClan watches us more closely." Tallkit heard worry in her mew. "Is that why we tunnel under the moor?" he asked. "To hide from the dead warriors in other Clans?" "Don't be silly." Palebird had licked his ear. "We tunnel because we're stronger and cleverer than all the other Clans together." Her washing became brisker, silencing him. "I'm going to the Hunting Stones!" Shrewkit charged across the grass. Barkkit raced after him. "What about sliding in the hollow?" "There's not enough snow for real sliding." Shrewkit veered away from Tallrock. "You're just scared." Barkkit swerved after his brother, sending a shower of frozen flakes up from his paws. "Am not!" Shrewkit called back. Tallkit followed, not caring where they chose to play. It felt great to be outside, the grass cold on his pads as he raced across it. "Watch out!" Tallkit skidded to a halt as Cloudrunner yowled at him. The pale gray tom was crossing his path with Aspenfall. The warriors were heading to the prey heap, carrying fresh-kill. Wind-ruffled from the moor, they'd brought food for the Clan. Tallkit gazed at them, impressed by their long legs and wiry tails. They were moor runners, which meant they served WindClan by hunting and patroling the borders, and Tallkit could smell heather on their pelts. In the brittle patch of bracken where the tunnelers made their nests, Woollytail looked up from washing his mud-streaked belly. Like all the cats who served the Clan by carving out new tunnels and shoring up old ones far beneath the moor, his pelt was permanently stained with sand and dust. He nodded at the rabbit swinging from Cloudrunner's jaws. "Did you catch that on the high-moor?" "Yes." At the prey heap, Cloudrunner kicked away a stale mouse left from the previous day's hunt and dropped his catch. "You're right, as usual, Woollytail." Tallkit blinked at Woollytail. "How did you know?" "I can smell the sand in its fur." Woollytail flicked his tail and returned to washing. Hickorynose, his tunnelmate, shifted on the bracken beside him. "You only find sand tunnels on the high-moor." The brown tom lifted a forepaw and rubbed dirt from his ear. "Not like the gorge tunnel. That's all soil and grit. But it'll open the way to fresh prey beside the river." Cloudrunner snorted. "If you ever find a way to stop the cave-ins." Aspenfall laid a vole beside the rabbit. "The grit makes it unstable. It's not safe to tunnel there." Woollytail narrowed his eyes. "It is if you know what you're doing." Tallkit glanced from tunneler to moor runner as an awkward silence fell between them. Heatherstar cut through it. She padded from her den and followed the rim of the Meeting Hollow. Passing the grass nests of the moor runners, she brushed by Cloudrunner and stopped beside the bracken patch. "Will the new tunnels be ready before newleaf, Woollytail?" Woollytail sniffed. "It takes time to shore up the roofs." Heatherstar flicked her tail. "I'm sure you'll find a way." She turned back to the prey heap and sniffed Cloudrunner's rabbit.Does Heatherstar ever patrol underground? Tallkit watched the WindClan leader curiously. She'd trained as a moor runner, but surely as leader, she needed to understand what it was like to be a tunneler too. "Hurry up, Tallkit!" Barkkit called. Tallkit jerked his attention away and scurried after his denmates. Barkkit and Shrewkit were already at the Hunting Stones. The smooth, low rocks huddled like rabbits in the grass near the elders' den. Sprigs of heather poked between them and moss clumped at their base. Shrewkit leaped onto the highest stone and crowed down at Barkkit. "I am leader of the Hunting Stones!" Barkkit scrambled onto the boulder beside him. "I'm deputy!" Tallkit reached the rocks and waded through the thick moss at the bottom. Reaching up with his forepaws, he kicked out with his hind legs and tried to jump up beside Barkkit. His claws slithered on the frosty stone and he slid back into the chilly moss. "Hey, Wormkit!" Shrewkit called down. "Why don't you tunnel underneath? You're not supposed to be a moor runner like us!" Tallkit's pelt pricked with confusion. "I'm not Wormkit. I'm Tallkit!" "You're going to spend your life wriggling underground like a worm, aren't you?" Shrewkit taunted. "That's where you should be now—under the rocks, not on them." Tallkit frowned. He knew that his mother and father were tunnelers, but did that really mean he couldn't play on the Hunting Stones? Barkkit reached down with his forepaw. "Ignore him and try again, Tallkit!" he mewed. Tallkit leaped for his denmate's paw and felt it curl beneath his own. He churned his hind legs while Barkkit heaved. Scrabbling against the stone, he flung himself onto the rock. "Thanks!" He sat up beside Barkkit, his pads stinging on the frozen rock. He gazed across the camp. Sun shone from a crisp, blue sky, thawing the grassy hummocks, which bulged like clumped fur across the frosty clearing. The tunnelers' bracken patch glowed orange while the long grass enclosing the moor runners' nests drooped lower as the frost slowly loosened its grip. A white face appeared at the entrance of the elders' den. "You young'uns are up early." Whiteberry slid out and sat gingerly on the cold grass a tail-length from the Hunting Stones. Lilywhisker limped after him and stood tasting the air. She was the youngest in the elders' den, far younger than Whiteberry, Flamepelt, and Flailfoot. She'd retired to the den after a tunnel collapse had smashed her hind leg and left it useless. "Do you want to come onto the moor?" she asked Whiteberry. The white elder looked at her. "So long as you don't try to get me down any rabbit holes." "Not after last time," Lilywhisker purred. "I've never seen a cat chased out of a tunnel by a rabbit." Whiteberry shifted his paws. "I thought it was a fox." "Your sense of smell must be worn out." Flicking her tail teasingly, Lilywhisker hopped toward the camp entrance. Her lifeless hind leg left a trail through the shallow snow. Whiteberry heaved himself to his paws and followed. "Yours will wear out too after a few more moons sharing a den with Flailfoot. He's got fox-breath." "It's not that bad," Lilywhisker called over her shoulder. "Do you want to swap nests?" Whiteberry caught up to her. "Last night he snored right in my muzzle. I dreamed I'd fallen into a badger den." As they disappeared into the heather tunnel, a pale ginger tom nosed his way past them, heading into camp. Sandgorse! Tallkit lifted his tail as his father trotted into the clearing. The ginger warrior's pelt was speckled with earth. "I've left a stack of sticks at the tunnel entrance," he called to Woollytail. The gray-and-white tunneler lifted his nose. "Great!" he meowed. "We can start shoring up the roof this afternoon." "You'll have to manage without me." Sandgorse headed toward the Hunting Stones. "Tallkit! I want to show you something." Tallkit blinked excitedly at his father. "What is it?" Was Sandgorse going to show him the moor? Tallkit slid off the rock and scrambled over the tussocky grass. He skidded to a halt at Sandgorse's paws. Sandgorse licked a sprig of moss from Tallkit's ear and spat it onto the grass. "It's time you learned to dig." Disappointment dropped like a stone in Tallkit's belly. He didn't want to dig. He wanted to see the moor and feel the wind in his pelt. "Tallkit's going to go worming!" Shrewkit jeered from the Hunting Stones. Tallkit spun around crossly. "Worms don't dig!" "Ignore Shrewkit!" Barkkit stepped in front of his littermate. "He's just teasing." Sandgorse snorted. "Typical moor-kit, scared of getting sand in his eyes." He headed for the tunnelers' bracken patch. Tallkit scrambled after him and ducked under Sandgorse's belly as he stopped beside Woollytail's nest. Tallkit peeped out, relishing the warmth of his father's fur on his spine. "Do you think sticks will be strong enough to hold up the roof?" Sandgorse wondered. Woollytail frowned. "They'll do until we can roll stones into place." "Perhaps we should take a different route to the gorge." Above Tallkit's head, Sandgorse's belly twitched. Woollytail shook his head. "We can't be far from clay now. It'll be harder digging, but there'll be fewer cave-ins." Sandgorse glanced toward the elders' den. Tallkit guessed he was thinking about Lilywhisker's crushed leg. "Perhaps we should explore the rabbit warrens higher up. There may be a clay seam there we can dig into." "But we've made so much progress over leaf-bare," Woollytail argued. "It'd be a shame to start again." The tom's muscular shoulders twitched. They were as wide and toned as Sandgorse's. Will I have shoulders like that when I'm a tunneler? Tallkit's gaze strayed across the camp to Cloudrunner and Aspenfall. They were much sleeker: built for speed, not strength. Tallkit wondered what it felt like to run across the moor with the wind rushing through his fur. Surely that would be better than being squashed underground? He imagined his ears and nose filling up with mud, and shuddered. "Come on, Tallkit." Sandgorse's mew broke into his thoughts. His father was heading for the moor runners' nests. Tallkit scampered after him and followed him past the swishing stalks to a patch of bare earth behind Tallrock. "There's good digging here," Sandgorse explained, running his paw over the ground. "This is where I first learned to tunnel." Tallkit gazed down at the churned earth and wondered how many times this patch had been dug and refilled, ready for new tunnelers to practice. "Don't you ever get bored of digging?" he mewed. "Being a tunneler doesn't just mean digging," Sandgorse retorted. "Hollowing out new earthroutes is part of being a tunneler. But we patrol them, too, and it's a great place to hunt, especially during leaf-bare. Don't forget, that's why Shattered Ice first tunneled through the rabbit warrens." Tallkit already knew the legend of Shattered Ice. It was one of the first nursery stories Palebird ever told him. Long ago, the moor was gripped by the worst leaf-bare the Clan had ever known. There was no prey to be found in the snow-drowned stretches of heather and gorse. So one of WindClan's bravest warriors had gone into the rabbit warrens and dug deep beyond them in search of food for their Clan. "He cared more for his Clan than his own safety," Sandgorse meowed solemnly. "And he didn't have any of the training or experience we have now." He had only his courage and strength. Tallkit stifled a yawn. "He had only his courage and strength," Sandgorse went on. "WindClan has tunneled ever since, learning more with each generation." He lifted his chin. "Without its tunnelers, WindClan would have suffered many hungry, preyless moons." Tallkit's pelt pricked guiltily. How could he dream of running across the moors like Cloudrunner and Aspenfall? One day his Clan would depend on him. He should be proud to follow in his father's paw steps. Unsheathing his claws, he began to scrape at the earth, sending it showering behind him. "Wait." Sandgorse swept his tail over Tallkit's spine. "You're not digging a hole to make dirt." Tallkit sat back and shook his head to dislodge some flakes of dirt. There were different ways to dig? Sandgorse thrust a paw into the soft soil and scooped out a lump of earth. Pushing it firmly to one side, he dug another. Within moments, he was hollowing out dirt, paw over paw, while a pile grew beside him, neat and compact. Tallkit felt a quiver of pride. His father looked strong and determined, as if there was no hole he couldn't dig, no earth he couldn't shape with his paws. "Let me try." Tallkit reached down past his father and gouged out a pawful of the crumbling earth. Sandgorse sat back. Tallkit felt his father's gaze on his pelt, warmer than sunshine. He dug harder, dragging up pawfuls and throwing them into a loose pile beside his fast-growing hole. "I'm tunneling!" he squeaked. "Watch out!" As Sandgorse mewed a warning, Tallkit's flank bumped his dig-pile. Cold, crumbly soil cascaded around his ears. It sprinkled over his muzzle, making him sneeze. He sat up, shaking out his fur, and stared crossly at the earth that was still showering into his hole. Sandgorse pressed his paw against the pile to stop the flow. "Your dig-pile is as important as your hole. You must keep it compact. Press your dug-earth down firmly or you'll have to dig every pawful twice."Tallkit frowned. This was harder than he thought. Concentrating, he dove back into his hole and hauled up a fresh pawful of soil. He carefully patted it into the side of his dig-pile. This time it stayed where he put it, and he reached into the hole with both paws and began scooping, paw over paw, taking time to press each lump into his pile just as Sandgorse had done. "Very good, Tallkit." There was pride in Sandgorse's mew. Tallkit swallowed back a purr and kept digging. The hole was so deep now that his hind legs ached each time he reached down. "Slow down," Sandgorse warned. "I'm okay—" As Tallkit answered, his hind paws shot out from beneath him. Muzzle first, he crashed into the hole. Pain seared through his paws as they twisted the wrong way, his claws bending back as they caught on the soil. A wave of earth smothered him, choking him and pushing him farther into the hole. Help! I'm being buried alive! Teeth sank into his tail, dragging him up. "Are you okay?" Sandgorse let go and stared into Tallkit's face. "No!" Tallkit's muzzle throbbed and his claws burned. "I can't do this! I hate digging holes, and I don't want to be a tunneler!" A wail rose in his belly as soil stung his eyes. "Palebird!" Chest heaving, he turned and raced for the nursery.
CHAPTER 2
Sandgorse bounded after him. "You were doing really well." "I was not!" Anger surged through Tallkit as his eyes watered from the grit. "I fell in! And hurt my claws!" He stumbled to a halt outside the nursery and held up a paw. "You just snagged them. They'll be okay." Tallkit blinked through tears. "You don't know that!" Hazily he spotted Palebird's black-and-white pelt at the nursery entrance. "Tallkit!" She slid onto the grass. "What happened?" Tallkit flung himself against her soft fur. "I fell in and soil got in my eyes." He screwed them up as Palebird began to lap at them gently. "Is that better?" She paused and waited while he opened them gingerly. The stinging had stopped. He shook his head, spraying earth from his ears. "I hurt my paws, too." Palebird leaned down and sniffed them. "They're fine," she mewed. "Let's go inside." "Tallkit!" Sandgorse stepped closer. "You can't give up yet!" "Leave him," Palebird murmured. "He's frightened." Tallkit glanced over his shoulder. Sandgorse's green eyes were round with worry. "I'll try again later," he meowed reluctantly. "We'll see." Palebird nosed him gently into the den. "He's got to learn—" Tallkit didn't hear the rest of his father's mew. Palebird's fur was swishing in his ears as she guided him to their nest. He curled into the soft sheepswool lining. "Where's Brackenwing?" Barkkit's mother was gone. "And Mistmouse?" The ginger queen's nest was empty and there was no sign of Ryekit, Doekit, or Stagkit. "Brackenwing's at the prey heap." Palebird settled into the nest beside him. "Mistmouse went hunting." "Hunting?" Queens didn't hunt. They looked after their kits. Palebird sighed. "She's missed being out on the moor these past moons. And her kits don't need her anymore." The entrance to the nursery rustled as Brackenwing pushed her way in. She carried with her the scent of fresh rabbit. "Who's missed the moor?" Heather rustled as she settled into her nest. "Mistmouse," Palebird told her. Brackenwing ran her tongue around her lips. "I haven't felt the wind in my fur for too long," she mewed wistfully. Tallkit nestled against Palebird. "Do you miss being underground?" She'd been a tunneler before he'd been born. "Of course." Tallkit wasn't convinced. Who'd want to spend the day in the dark? Brackenwing flicked her tail over her paws. "You won't be tunneling for a while, Palebird." The ginger queen's mew sounded ominous. Tallkit's gaze flicked anxiously toward his mother. "Why not?" "My kitting was hard. I lost Finchkit." Palebird shifted beside him. "It'll take me a bit longer to recover." Tallkit searched her gaze. He could never tell whether his mother was sad or just tired. "Why did Finchkit die? Did you kit her wrong?" "Hush!"Brackenwing's sharp mew surprised him. Had he said something bad? Palebird liked talking about Finchkit. "Did StarClan want her?" he pressed. Palebird sighed. "I guess they did." But not me. Why had StarClan left him with Palebird? Perhaps they wanted him to cheer her up. "What color was Finchkit's pelt?" Tallkit asked. Palebird's gaze clouded. "Ginger, like your father's." "I don't know why you gave Finchkit a name," Brackenwing muttered. "She needed a name," Palebird answered. "She only lived for a moment." Brackenwing frowned. "StarClan would have named her." Tallkit felt his mother tremble. Talking about Finchkit didn't seem to be cheering her up. He pawed at her cheek softly, trying to distract her. "I've got sand in my ears." "Have you, dear?" Palebird leaned down and began washing his ear fur. Relieved to feel her soften beside him, Tallkit snuggled closer. He didn't even remember Finchkit. Am I supposed to? A shadow darkened the nursery entrance. "Have you calmed him down yet?" Sandgorse stuck his head through the gorse. "The sooner he starts digging again, the better." "I've just gotten him cleaned up," Palebird objected. "We'll practice some other skills," Sandgorse promised. Tallkit ducked out from under his mother's muzzle. "Are you sure it's okay?" he mewed, blinking up at her. He didn't want to leave Palebird if she was still sad, but Sandgorse sounded so eager for him to go. "Whatever you want, dear." Her gaze drifted away. Tallkit felt a jab of disappointment. Didn't she want him to stay? He stood up. She wants me to train so I can be as strong as Sandgorse. He clambered over the side of the nest. "See you later." Palebird didn't answer. She was staring blankly at the den wall. "Come on, Tallkit." Sandgorse brushed his way through the nursery entrance. Tallkit followed. He was pleased to see his father's gaze brighten as he slithered onto the snowy grass beside him. "I knew one little fall wouldn't put you off." Sandgorse whisked Tallkit forward with his tail. "Let's practice moving stones. Tunnelers have to learn to move rocks much heavier than themselves." "Really?" Tallkit scampered at his side as they crossed the camp. "It's an important skill." Sandgorse nodded toward a row of rocks clustered beside the elders' den. "Let's try these. Just small ones to begin with." Small ones? Tallkit stared at the stones. They were as big as sparrows. Sandgorse stopped beside the nearest, and beckoned Tallkit closer with a twitch of his tail. "Grab it with your forepaws, and use your weight to roll it toward you." Tallkit swallowed. "Won't it squash me?" "The first rule of tunneling is that you're always stronger than you think," Sandgorse told him. Brown fur flashed at the corner of Tallkit's gaze. "I touched your tail! You're the rabbit now!" "Did not!" "Did so." Shrewkit and Barkkit were chasing each other over the Hunting Stones. Heather sprigs quivered in their wake. Sandgorse nudged the rock toward Tallkit. "Roll this one." Tallkit stared at it. "Why do I always have to be the rabbit?" "You don't!" Flattening his ears to block out the sound of his denmates playing, Tallkit reached up and rested his forepaws on the rock. With a grunt, he tried to heave it toward him. His belly tightened with the effort, but the stone didn't move. "Let's try a smaller one." Sandgorse pushed another stone closer. As Tallkit reached for it, Flailfoot padded out of the elders' den. His black pelt moved like a shadow against the frosty gorse. "He's a bit young to be moving rocks." Sandgorse sniffed. "It's never too early to start learning tunneling skills." Flailfoot sat down. "I didn't move my first stone till I was an apprentice." Tallkit gritted his teeth. I'm going to move it! Hissing under his breath, he heaved. His claws slipped. His hind legs buckled. With a gasp, he fell backward and landed on his tail. "Nice move, Wormkit!" Shrewkit called from the Hunting Stones. Tallkit turned on him, ears flat. "I'm learning!" "Take no notice," Sandgorse advised. "Shrewkit thinks like a moor runner. He doesn't understand patience."Tallkit's heart sank. Would he have to spend the whole day trying to shift this dumb rock while Shrewkit and Barkkit played Rabbit on the Hunting Stones? Heatherstar's mew rang through the cold air. "Let all cats old enough to catch prey gather beneath Tallrock." Tallkit jerked around. The WindClan leader stood on top of the dark stone in the middle of the Meeting Hollow. "Wait here," Sandgorse ordered. He trotted across camp and bounded into the sandy hollow. Flailfoot brushed past Tallkit. "Try starting with a smaller stone," he suggested as he headed after Sandgorse. Tallkit sat back on his haunches and watched his Clanmates streaming toward Tallrock. Aspenfall and Cloudrunner bounded down into the snow-whitened circle, lithe and light-footed. Redclaw and Dawnstripe followed. Meadowslip and Larksplash were already staring up expectantly at Heatherstar. They shifted to let the other moor runners settle beside them. Sandgorse headed for the opposite end of the hollow, where the tunnelers sat, and stopped beside Woollytail and Hickorynose. Flailfoot jumped stiffly down beside them. Tail high, the old tunneler nodded to Reedfeather. The WindClan deputy, who was sitting at the foot of Tallrock, dipped his head in return. Barkkit bounced toward Tallkit, eyes bright. "Aren't you coming?" Shrewkit was already scrambling away across the tussocks. Tallkit blinked. "But we're not old enough to catch prey." "How do you know?" Barkkit shrugged. "You've never tried. Besides, we won't sit with the warriors. We can watch from over there." He pointed with his nose to where Shrewkit was threading his way through the long grass that edged the moor runners' nests. "Come on." As Tallkit scampered after Barkkit, the camp entrance shivered. Lilywhisker and Whiteberry hurried in. "Have they started?" Lilywhisker called to Flailfoot as she limped across camp. "Not yet." Flailfoot padded to the edge of the hollow and reached up to steady Lilywhisker as she scrambled down on her three good legs. She joined the tunnelers while Whiteberry headed for the moor runners on the far side of the hollow. Mistmouse paced the rim, brushing past her mate, Hareflight. The brown tom stood as stiff as the trunk of a gorse bush, as though his claws had taken root. Tallkit paused beside the moor runners' nests and watched them curiously. Mistmouse's kits, Ryekit, Stagkit, and Doekit, were standing beside the two warriors. "In here." Barkkit nudged Tallkit into the grass beside Shrewkit. Tallkit pushed through the long stems. "What are they doing at the hollow?" He jerked his nose toward Hareflight's kits. "I don't know." Barkkit burrowed deeper into the grass and peeped out. "Hush!" Shrewkit hissed beside them. "I'm trying to hear." His yellow eyes were fixed on the Meeting Hollow. Heatherstar sprang down from Tallrock and weaved past her Clanmates until she reached the center. Mistmouse was fiercely smoothing the fur between Stagkit's ears. Hareflight nudged Doekit and Ryekit closer to the edge. "Ryekit, Doekit, and Stagkit!" Heatherstar called. Tallkit felt Barkkit stiffen beside him. "It's their apprentice ceremony!" Tallkit leaned forward. "Woollytail will get one of them," Shrewkit guessed. "But Hareflight's a moor runner," Barkkit reminded him. "So?" Shrewkit whispered. "Woollytail's been complaining for ages that WindClan needs more tunnelers. And Mistmouse will want at least one of her kits to follow in her paw steps." He glanced at Tallkit. "I feel sorry for you. Being a tunneler must be awful." Tallkit scowled at him. "Sandgorse says it's the noblest warrior life." "Sandgorse would," Shrewkit scoffed. "He's had so much mud in his ears it's probably filled up his head." Tallkit unsheathed his claws, anger surging beneath his pelt. "That's not true!" Barkkit pressed against him softly. "Just watch the ceremony," he murmured. Stagkit was leading his sisters into the hollow. Ryekit's paws slipped and she slithered down the icy slope. Warm purrs rumbled around her as she straightened and shook out her soft gray fur. "Ryepaw." Heatherstar met her gaze. The new apprentice's eyes widened. "Your mentor will be Larksplash." Ryepaw purred loudly as Larksplash stepped from among the moor runners and touched her head with her muzzle. Heatherstar flicked her tail. "Larksplash, share your speed and sharp eyes with Ryepaw so that she too may become a warrior worthy of WindClan." The WindClan leader turned to Doekit. "Doepaw," she meowed. "Your mentor will be Aspenfall." Aspenfall pricked his ears, blinking, as though surprised.Doepaw's pale brown pelt pricked excitedly. She puffed out her chest as Aspenfall crossed the hollow to greet her. "Aspenfall," Heatherstar meowed. "Share your courage and strength with Doepaw." Aspenfall dipped his head and touched his nose to Doepaw's ear. Behind them, Stagkit gazed at his Clanmates. He must be trying to guess who his mentor will be. Tallkit held his breath, as excited as if it were his own apprentice ceremony. "It looks like poor old Stagkit gets Woollytail," Shrewkit muttered. "Stagpaw," Heatherstar began, "your mentor will be Cloudrunner." Shrewkit gasped. "Cloudrunner?" "He's not a tunneler," Barkkit breathed. Tallkit felt a flash of relief for his former denmate. Stagpaw won't have to train underground! Then guilt pricked him. He should be feeling sorry that Stagpaw would never be the noblest of warriors. Heatherstar went on. "Cloudrunner, share your hunting skill and agility with your apprentice so he may feed his Clans for many moons to come." Yowls of approval rose from the moor runners. "Stagpaw!" "Ryepaw!" "Doepaw!" On the rim of the hollow, Mistmouse and Hareflight twined their tails together, their eyes shining with pride. "Cloudrunner?" Woollytail's mew rose above the cheers. Confusion clouded his yellow gaze. Hickorynose narrowed his eyes. "Why wasn't an apprentice given to a tunneler?" he demanded. "What's going on?" A mew sounded from the camp entrance. A gray she-cat stared at her Clanmates. Her pelt was dusted with soil. Mistmouse turned. "Hi, Plumclaw." She shifted her paws uneasily as she faced her tunneling denmate. "I'm afraid you missed the naming ceremony." "Did Woollytail get his apprentice?" The she-cat's gaze flashed with hope. Woollytail shook his head. "They're training as moor runners." "All of them?" Plumclaw's eyes widened. Heatherstar stepped forward. "Aspenfall, Cloudrunner, and Larksplash are going to mentor Mistmouse's kits." Plumclaw stared at Mistmouse. "Don't you want any of them to follow in your paw steps?" Mistmouse dropped her gaze. Hareflight pressed close to his mate. "We've decided that we want them all to be moor runners." "Tunneling is dangerous work," Mistmouse pointed out. "Our kits are good runners, like their father. They'll be better hunting the moors than the tunnels." Hickorynose took a step forward, his fur bristling. "But we need more tunneler apprentices." Behind him, Sandgorse swished his tail. "At least we'll have Tallkit in a few moons." Tallkit's belly tightened. "Lucky little Wormkit," Shrewkit teased. Tallkit glared at him. "Shut up!" Heatherstar padded toward the tunnelers. "I know you're disappointed, but Mistmouse and Hareflight want their kits to train as moor runners." Hickorynose met her gaze. "The Clan needs tunnelers as well, Heatherstar." "I understand your disappointment," Heatherstar answered softly. "But Leafshine's death is still fresh in our memories." Tallkit had heard Palebird and Brackenwing talking about the tunneler killed by the same cave-in that had crippled Lilywhisker. "I had to respect Mistmouse and Hareflight's wishes," the WindClan leader continued. Hickorynose dipped his head. "I guess." Heatherstar went on. "When newleaf comes and the earth is drier, the tunnels will be safer and better for training." Woollytail pushed past Hickorynose. "Why didn't you warn us we weren't getting an apprentice?" Reedfeather took a pace forward. "Would you have accepted it any more easily if we had?" Plumclaw called from the top of the hollow. "We would have known that you still respected us!" Heatherstar lifted her chin. "Of course WindClan respects its tunnelers," she insisted. "When leaf-bare brings endless moons of snow, our tunnelers always bring us prey. We value your skills, and we want to help you keep them alive through future moons." A growl rumbled in Woollytail's throat. "How, when you give us no apprentices to train?""You will have more apprentices eventually." Heatherstar flicked her tail. "For now, the ceremony is over." She turned to Cloudrunner. "Show your apprentices their territory." She dipped her head to Aspenfall and Larksplash. "Train them well." Tallkit felt a flicker of unease as Cloudrunner hopped out of the hollow and led Stagpaw to the camp entrance. Larksplash, Aspenfall, Ryepaw, and Doepaw bounded after them. How would the tunnelers get more apprentices? Tallkit wondered. Shrewkit and Barkkit would be moor runners. Was Tallkit going to have to keep the tunnelers' skills alive all by himself? Barkkit pressed close to him. "Sandgorse will make sure that Heatherstar chooses a tunneler mentor when it's your naming ceremony." "Yeah." Tallkit tried to sound enthusiastic. Did he really want to spend the rest of his moons digging holes and heaving rocks? "Redclaw, Appledawn, Hareflight!" Reedfeather called to the moor runners. "The prey heap is low. We must hunt." Redclaw's nose twitched. "Rabbit will be easy to scent in this weather." Appledawn sprang out of the hollow and headed for the entrance, her pale cream pelt rosy in the low sunshine. Hareflight raced after her. "Let's hunt the high outcrops." Tallkit watched the muscles ripple beneath Hareflight's pelt as the pale brown tom reached the camp entrance in three easy bounds. Longing pricked his belly. I want to race on the moors. I want to be pulled by the wind, and chase rabbits beneath the big, blue sky. Would he ever feel the same way about running through tunnels in the dark?
CHAPTER 3
Thick snow smothered the high-moor, but in the camp's sheltered dip, the heather and grass was tinged green with the promise of newleaf. Tallkit could feel the prick of fresh stems beneath his paws as he skimmed across the tussocks. Barkkit fled ahead of him, tail whipping as he plunged down into the Meeting Hollow. Tallkit reached the edge and leaped, sailing fast and high before landing skillfully and racing on without missing a paw step. Barkkit charged ahead, kicking sand in his wake. Excitement pulsed through Tallkit's paws as he gained ground on his denmate. He's two moons older and I'm still faster! Tallkit pushed harder as Barkkit reached the far slope of the hollow and scrambled out. Tallkit jumped easily up the slope, clearing it as Barkkit dived for cover beneath the thick gorse beyond. He slowed to a halt, stopping a whisker from the barrage of thorns. Pelt twitching, he paced along the edge of gorse, swishing his tail. "I know you're in there, mouse! I'm going to pull your tail!" "Never!" Barkkit purred. "Come out and face me, rabbit-heart!" "Come and get me, buzzard-face!" The gorse rattled as Barkkit scrabbled deeper. Tallkit ducked and peered under the branches. "I'm coming!" A paw pressed on his tail. "Going tunneling, Wormkit?" Shrewkit snorted. Tallkit spun around, bristling. "Will you drop the dumb name?" He squared his shoulders. "But it suits you." Shrewkit's eyes gleamed. "You're going to spend your life burrowing underground." "Ignore him, Tallkit!" Barkkit called from under the gorse. "Let's finish our game." Tallkit held Shrewkit's gaze. "Why don't you join us?" Playing was better than arguing. "I'm too old for kits' games." Tallkit prickled with frustration. "Then why don't you go hunting with Redclaw?" He leaned closer. "Oh, I forgot! You're too young to leave camp." The gorse trembled as Barkkit pushed his way out. "Stop acting like a 'paw, Shrewkit. You've got three moons left before you get your apprentice name." Shrewkit puffed out his fur. "I don't see why I have to wait. I'm nearly as big as Doepaw." "No kit can be apprenticed before six moons," Tallkit reminded him. "Don't you know the warrior code?" Shrewkit flicked his tail. "Do tunnelers have a code?" Tallkit flexed his claws. "We're warriors too!" he snapped. "We train to hunt and fight like moor runners. We just have extra skills." "Do you mean digging?" Shrewkit sneered. "Rabbits can dig. It's not such a great skill." "Yes, it is!" Tallkit felt a rush of fury. "Sandgorse is helping to build a tunnel right down to the bottom of the gorge. No rabbit could do that. No rabbit would even think of it." He fluffed out his pelt, hoping his anger would hide the fear that was pricking through his fur at the thought of squeezing down such a long, long tunnel. "Tunnels are a waste of time," Shrewkit scoffed. "They're only good for hiding in." "No, they're not!" How dare Shrewkit suggest that tunnelers were cowards? Being underground was far scarier than running around the moor. "The new tunnel means an extra prey run and a secret route in and out of our territory if we ever need it." "Real warriors don't need secret routes. They stay in the open and fight."Tallkit lashed his tail. "Tunnelers can fight underground!" "I'm just saying I'm glad I don't have to be a tunneler's apprentice. Don't tell me you're looking forward to spending your life in the dark." "I'm proud to follow in Sandgorse's paw steps." Tallkit shifted his paws guiltily. I just wish I wasn't dreading it. Barkkit nosed his way between them. "I don't know why you're arguing," he mewed. "It's okay to want different things. If we all wanted to be moor runners we'd be just the same as ThunderClan or ShadowClan or RiverClan. But we're not; we're WindClan, and we can fight and hunt and tunnel." Tallkit swallowed his frustration. Barkkit was right. WindClan cats were special and it was mouse-brained to stand around arguing about it. Whipping his tail, he turned and stomped away. Sharp pain stabbed his paw. "Ow!" He lifted it, hopping. His pad stung like fury. Barkkit bounded over. "What's wrong?" "I stepped on something sharp." Tallkit held out his paw. Barkkit crouched and peered at the pad. Gently he tipped it up to get a better look. "It's a gorse thorn," he mewed. Tallkit glanced nervously toward the medicine den. "Should I ask Hawkheart to get it out?" If Hawkheart was busy, he wouldn't want to be disturbed—especially by buzzard prey. "No need." Leaning close, Barkkit pressed his muzzle to Tallkit's pad. Tallkit felt his denmate's breath warm on his paw; then there was a sharp tug and the pain melted away. Barkkit sat up. A long thorn stuck from between his teeth. Blood glistened on the tip. He spat it out. "Lick your paw really hard," he ordered. "That'll stop it from going bad." Tallkit lifted his paw and examined the pad. A spot of blood was welling where Barkkit had removed the thorn. He lapped it, amazed at how quickly the pain had disappeared. The blood tasted salty on his tongue. "Thanks, Barkkit." He looked at his friend. "How did you know what to do?" Barkkit shrugged. "It was obvious." Shrewkit rolled his eyes. "Brilliant," he snorted. "That's really going to help catch rabbits or fight invaders." Barkkit tipped his head on one side. "There's more to life than hunting and fighting." "Is there?" Shrewkit blinked in surprise. "Don't tell me you want to be a tunneler?" "That's not what I said," Barkkit mewed. "Another digger!" Shrewkit turned his tail on his brother. He clearly wasn't listening. "That's just what WindClan needs." Barkkit watched his brother march away. Tallkit narrowed his eyes, confused. "Don't you want to be a moor runner, Barkkit?" "No. I want to train as a medicine cat," Barkkit confessed. Tallkit stared at him. "Really?" "I'm going to ask Heatherstar if I can be apprenticed to Hawkheart." "Hawkheart?" Tallkit echoed in astonishment. I'd rather train as a tunneler. "Are you sure?" "Yes!" Barkkit's eyes shone. "I can't wait to learn about all the herbs, and how to treat different injuries." "I can't imagine Hawkheart with an apprentice." "Do you think he'll refuse to train me?" Worry clouded Barkkit's gaze. "Maybe that's why he's never had an apprentice before." "No one's been brave enough to volunteer," Tallkit muttered. He purred. "He'll probably be impressed by your courage." "Hawkheart's okay." Barkkit's anxious gaze slid toward the medicine den. "He just doesn't like being asked rabbit-brained questions, that's all." "Then how will you learn anything?" Tallkit pointed out. "I'll watch what he does and only ask questions when I'm sure I don't understand." Tallkit blinked, surprised by how determined Barkkit sounded. He must have been planning this for ages. Sadness pricked his chest. "We'll never train together." "You're training as a tunneler anyway," Barkkit reminded him. "I'll have to learn to hunt and fight, and you would have learned basic tunnel skills." Tallkit glanced at Shrewkit, who was following Stagpaw from the prey heap. "Now I'm stuck with him." "Ignore his teasing," Barkkit urged. "If you don't react, he'll get bored and back off." "I guess." Tallkit wasn't convinced. "Let's go see if Lilywhisker needs help hunting fleas." He turned toward the elders' den. "I'll catch up," Barkkit mewed. "I want to ask Heatherstar about becoming Hawkheart's apprentice." As Barkkit headed for Heatherstar's den, Tallkit padded toward the thick gorse at the far end of the clearing. Flamepelt was outside the den, propped against a low hummock while Lilywhisker sat beside him, carefully grooming her lifeless leg.The elder was midstory. "I took a right fork in the tunnel," he rasped. "It was darker than the inside of a rock but I could hear the rabbit a few tail-lengths ahead. It was running fast, leaving a trail of fear-scent so strong even a moor runner could follow it." "Isn't tunnel hunting easy?" Doepaw interrupted. "There's only one way for the prey to run." Flamepelt met her gaze. "You think it's easy to run full pelt in stone-black darkness?" As Doepaw's eyes widened, Whiteberry padded from the gorse den. His snowy pelt glowed in the sunshine. "You've only got your ears, nose, and whiskers to guide you," he explained. "One wrong paw step and you could hit a wall." Flamepelt leaned forward. "A dead end gives a different echo from a passage. An experienced tunneler can hear whether an underpath will open out or get narrower just by the way the air ruffles his ear-fur." Lilywhisker lifted her muzzle. "I used to be able to hear a cavern halfway across the moor, just by the echo of my paw steps," she boasted. Whiteberry lay beside her and stretched sleepily. "I could scent prey through a tail-length of soil." Tallkit blinked. One day he'd learn all of these skills. He knew he should feel excited, but he could only picture darkness and mud. He shivered as though he were already belowground.