Soon all the cats could hear the rumble of the falls. They scrambled up one last steep slope and came out onto a flat stretch of rock where a river flowed past between boulders. Wind scoured across it, buffeting Dovewing’s fur and threatening to sweep her off her paws, but the sound of it was drowned by the deafening thunder of the cascade.

Dovewing padded to the edge of the cliff, where water slid over the lip of the rocks in a smooth curve. “Wow!” she exclaimed to Sheer, who stood beside her, one paw stretched out as if warning her to be careful. “You really live here?”

“Our cave is behind the waterfall,” he explained with pride in his voice.

“Awesome!” We actually have to walk behind that wall of foaming water? she thought privately. That’s no place for cats to live!

Sheer guided the Clan cats down the rocks beside the falls. The surface was wet and slippery; Dovewing tried to dig her claws into the hard surface and waved her tail wildly for balance. Her heart beat fast as she fought not to show these strange cats how scared she was. Jayfeather struggled down between Wing and Squirrelflight, grunting with every paw step.

Finally, every cat stood on a narrow path that led behind the waterfall. Dovewing walked along it carefully, keeping to Sheer’s paw steps, with the rock face on one side and the endlessly falling water on the other. She shivered as spray soaked her fur.

By now it was almost completely dark. The waterfall was a screen of rippling gray, shot through with silver where it reflected the moon and the slowly emerging stars. As Dovewing padded forward, a dark space opened up on the opposite side from the water; Sheer vanished into it and his voice came back to Dovewing, echoing strangely.

“Welcome to the Tribe of Rushing Water!”

Blinking, Dovewing entered the cave, followed by Squirrelflight, Jayfeather, and Foxleap, with the other Tribe cats bringing up the rear. Shaking her pelt dry, she gazed at the soaring cave walls, the roof lost in shadows high above her head. At the far end, two tunnels led away into darkness. Cats were crouching on ledges, staring down at the new arrivals. Others stalked around one another on the floor of the cave; it looked to Dovewing as if they were in the middle of some kind of training exercise. All of them froze as the visitors halted, bunched together, near the entrance. Dovewing’s pelt prickled.

Almost at once a voice yowled from the other side of the cavern. “I don’t believe it! Squirrelflight! Jaypaw!”

“Jayfeather,” he muttered.

A dark gray tom, longer legged than the other cats, bounded out of the shadows and skidded to a halt in front of Squirrelflight. “It’s great to see you again,” he meowed.

“Crag.” Squirrelflight’s voice was a warm purr. “It’s great to be here.”

More cats started to crowd around, offering greetings and asking questions about the Clans. Dovewing’s head began to spin; Squirrelflight tried to introduce every cat, but it was hard to remember, or to tell them all apart when they looked so much like one another: small and skinny, and mostly with gray-brown pelts.