For a moment the badger loomed over the WindClan apprentice, her black eyes furious. Crowpaw could not hide a flash of alarm in his eyes, though to his credit he did not back down. Then Midnight relaxed. “I not say everything. Everything indeed StarClan not want me to say. Much, yes, how Twolegs tear up forest, leave no place for cats to stay. But many answers lie within ourselves. This you have already learned, no?”
“I suppose,” Crowpaw muttered.
Midnight turned away from him. “Foxes say you must go now,” she told the cats. “If you still here at sunset, they attack. That dog fox, he says he tasted cat once, liked it fine.”
“Well, he’s not going to taste it again!” snapped Tawnypelt.
“We have to leave anyway,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “And we’re not looking for trouble from foxes. Let’s go.”
They paused for a few moments to gulp down the rest of the prey. Then Midnight took the lead, and brought them after a short time to the edge of the forest. The sun was dipping below the trees, and where they stood was already in shadow. In front of them, Stormfur saw yet more open moorland, with a range of mountains in the distance; over to one side were the hard reddish shapes of the Twolegplace they had travelled through on the outward journey.
“Which way now?” he asked.
Midnight raised one paw to point straight ahead. “That quickest way, path where sun rises.”
“It’s not the way we came,” Brambleclaw mewed uneasily. “We came through Twolegplace.”
“And I’m not going back there!” Crowpaw put in. “I’ll climb as many mountains as you like before I face all those Twolegs again.”
“I’m not sure,” Feathertail meowed. “At least we know the way through Twolegplace, and we’ve got Purdy to help us.”
Crowpaw replied only with a contemptuous snort. Stormfur half agreed with him; they had spent many frightening, hungry days wandering in Twolegplace, and Purdy had seemed as lost as any of them. But the mountains were unfamiliar too; even from here, Stormfur could see that their upper slopes were bare grey rock, with a streak of white here and there that must be the first snow of the approaching leaf-bare. They were far higher than Highstones, and he wondered how much shelter or prey they would find there.
“I agree with Feathertail,” he meowed at last. “We made it through Twolegplace once, so we can do it again.”
Brambleclaw glanced from one to another, undecided. “What do you think, Tawnypelt?”
His sister shrugged. “Whatever you like. There’ll be problems whichever way we go; we all know that.”
True enough, Stormfur thought grimly.
“Well, I think—” Squirrelpaw began, and broke off with a gasp. Her green eyes had widened with an expression of horror; they seemed to be fixed on something in the distance that no other cat could see.
“Squirrelpaw? What’s the matter?” Brambleclaw meowed urgently.
“I . . . I don’t know.” Squirrelpaw gave herself a shake. “Just make your mind up, Brambleclaw, and let’s be off. I want to go that way if it’s the quickest route—” She flicked her tail towards the distant mountains. “We’ll waste days and days going through Twolegplace again.”
Stormfur’s whiskers began to tingle. Squirrelpaw was right. They already knew that the route among the Twoleg nests was confusing and difficult. What dangers could there be in the mountains that could be worse than the rats and monsters they knew they would meet in Twolegplace? All that mattered was to get back to the forest without delay.
“I think she’s got a point,” he meowed. “I’ve changed my mind. I vote we should go through the mountains.”
Squirrelpaw’s dark ginger tail twitched to and fro, and she flexed her claws into the grass. “Well?” she spat at Brambleclaw. “Are you going to make up your mind or not?”
Brambleclaw took a deep breath. “OK, the mountains it is.”
“Eh? Wha’?” Purdy had been scratching one ear with his hind paw. But when Brambleclaw made his decision he looked up in alarm, blinking his wide amber eyes. “You can’t go that way. It’s dangerous. What about the—”
“Danger is all around,” Midnight broke in, silencing Purdy with a fierce glare. “Your friends great courage will need. The path has been laid out for them in the stars.”
Stormfur shot a sharp look at the old tabby. What had Purdy been trying to say when Midnight interrupted him? Did he know of some particular danger in the mountains? And if so, why had Midnight stopped him from telling the rest of them? He thought that he could see wisdom in her face, and something like regret. Just what did she mean by “the path has been laid out”?
“Choice is hard, young warrior.” The badger spoke in a low tone to Brambleclaw. Stormfur edged a pace closer so that he could hear. “Your path before you lies, and many challenges you will have to return safe home.”
Brambleclaw gazed into the badger’s eyes for a long moment before padding forwards a few paces across the moorland. Whatever these challenges might be, he seemed ready to face them, and Stormfur couldn’t help admiring his resolve, even though he came from a rival Clan. When Purdy scrambled to his feet to follow, Midnight put out a paw to hold him back.
The old tom bristled, his amber eyes glaring. “Get out o’ my way,” he rasped.
Midnight did not move. “With them you cannot go,” she rumbled. “The way is theirs alone.” Her black eyes gleamed in the dusk. “Young and rash they are, and tests will be many. Their own courage they need, my friend, not yours. Too much on you they would rely.”
Purdy blinked. “Well, if you put it like that . . .”
Feathertail darted up to him and gave his ears a quick lick. “We’ll never forget you, Purdy, or everything you’ve done for us.”
Just behind her, Crowpaw opened his mouth with his eyes narrowed, as if he was about to say something cutting. Stormfur froze him with a glare. He doubted they would see the old cat again, and although Purdy had made mistakes, he had stood by them and brought them safely to Midnight in the end.
“Goodbye, Purdy. And thank you. We could never have found Midnight without you.” Brambleclaw echoed Stormfur’s thoughts. “And thank you, too, Midnight.”
The badger inclined her head. “Farewell, my friends. May StarClan light your path.”
The rest of the cats said their own goodbyes, and began to follow Brambleclaw out on to the moor. Stormfur brought up the rear. Glancing back, he saw Midnight and Purdy sitting side by side under the outlying trees, watching them go. It was impossible to read their expressions in the gathering dusk. Stormfur waved his tail in a last farewell, and turned his face toward the mountains.
At Firestar’s yowl of command, Brackenfur and the grey ShadowClan warrior broke apart. Greystripe looked up from the tabby, but still kept a paw firmly on his neck.
“Let him go,” Firestar ordered. “We’re not here to fight.”
“It’s hard to do anything else when they jump us like that,” Greystripe hissed. He stepped back, and the skinny tabby scrambled to his paws and shook his ruffled fur.
Leafpaw bounded across the marshy ground to stand beside Cinderpelt, half afraid that Russetfur might still attack the medicine cat. ShadowClan’s deputy was not likely to take orders from the leader of