“No.” Brook bent down and touched each of their noses in turn. “You’re safe inside the cave.”

Dovewing stood close to Foxleap so that their pelts brushed. “We should never have made this journey,” she murmured. “Jayfeather won’t tell us why we had to come, and now a cat is dead.”

Foxleap nodded. “I want to go home.”

Movement in the shadows of the cave caught Dovewing’s eye, and she spotted Stoneteller stalking toward them, with Crag at his shoulder. The old cat halted in front of the group, his amber eyes glaring with anger and hatred.

“No cat wanted you here,” he snarled. “And now one of the Tribe is dead because of you.”

“You can’t blame Foxleap!” Dovewing stepped forward, her neck fur bristling with anger. “He was very brave.”

“I don’t blame Foxleap,” Stoneteller rasped. “I blame all of you. If you had never come to the mountains, Swoop would still be alive.”

Squirrelflight stretched out her tail to touch Dovewing’s shoulder. “He’s right,” she murmured. “We’ll leave as soon as we can. Stoneteller, we are all sorrier than we can say.”

As the old cat opened his jaws to reply, a muffled noise sounded behind them; Dovewing turned to see Jayfeather padding from the Cave of Pointed Stones. His blind blue eyes stared at her. “It’s my fault,” he rasped. “I was the one who said we had to come. I will do what I have to, and then we will leave.”

CHAPTER 22

Jayfeather felt as if all the weight of the mountains was resting on his shoulders, but he braced himself and turned to Stoneteller. “Your Tribe will always be loyal to the Teller of the Pointed Stones,” he meowed. “You need to return their loyalty by having faith that you are destined to be here. Your descendants will survive if you give them hope now.”

“But—” Stoneteller began.

Jayfeather didn’t let him speak. “The time has come to choose your successor.”

His words fell into silence. Jayfeather was conscious of the Tribe of Rushing Water around him, waiting for their Healer’s reply.

The old cat hauled himself to his paws. “It’s too late,” he growled. “Our ancestors no longer watch over us. We are alone.” Turning, he limped down the tunnel into his den-cave. Jayfeather pictured his Tribemates staring after him, as murmurs of protest began to rise from them.

“What does he mean?”

“Has the Tribe of Endless Hunting abandoned us?”

“What’s going to happen?”

“Calm down.” Bird’s voice rose above the rest. “Stoneteller is very troubled, but he is still our Healer. He will protect us. Let him sleep.”

The murmuring died away, but Jayfeather could tell that the cats were still uneasy.

“I want to go now.” Jayfeather heard the slap of Dovewing’s paw on the stone floor.

“So do I,” Foxleap added.

“I know. I want to leave, too,” Squirrelflight meowed. “But we can’t set off when night is falling. We’ll go home tomorrow. Is that all right with you, Jayfeather? Will you have finished whatever you need to do here?”