CHAPTER 8

Lionblaze forgot to breathe as he stared across the vast gray water. Sharp, cold wind buffeted his fur; he felt as though it could sweep him off his paws at any moment and hurl him down the cliffs to the rocks far below.

“This way,” Brambleclaw ordered. He led the patrol along the edge of the cliff to a narrow gully lined with scrubby grass. Lionblaze gasped in relief as he stepped out of the wind.

“Midnight the badger lives near here,” Brambleclaw went on, once the patrol was clustered around him at the bottom of the gully.

“How did you know where to find her?” Hollyleaf asked curiously.

“We didn’t,” the Clan deputy admitted. “We didn’t even know we were looking for a badger.” He twitched his tail-tip. “I found Midnight’s den by falling into it.”

Hazeltail’s eyes stretched wide. “Were you hurt?”

“Weren’t you scared of Midnight?” Birchfall added.

Brambleclaw flicked one ear as if he were trying to get rid of a fly. “This isn’t the time for stories. We have to keep going.”

He led his patrol through the gully, every so often climbing the slope to pop his head out and see how far along the cliff they were. Lionblaze and the others stayed crouching in the dip, listening to the blast of wind overhead.

At last Brambleclaw beckoned them with his tail to join him at the top. “We’re almost there,” he told them. “Follow me closely.”

Lionblaze and the rest of the patrol flattened their bellies to the short, bristly grass as they padded after Brambleclaw toward the edge of the cliff.

Is he going to jump over? Lionblaze wondered, as each paw step took them closer to the sheer drop.

But just before the land vanished from under their paws, Brambleclaw jumped down into a much deeper, narrower gully, sloping steeply through a dip in the cliffs. Brackenfur and the other cats followed him, with Lionblaze bringing up the rear. The sharp stones that covered the bottom of the gully dug into his pads or skidded from under him, nearly carrying him off his paws. Birchfall slipped, crashing into Hazeltail, and Brackenfur had to block the two younger cats before they hurtled down any farther.

“Thanks!” Birchfall gasped.

“Just watch where you’re putting your paws,” Brackenfur mewed.

The gully led down to a rocky shore, the sand almost completely covered with pebbles. Lionblaze had seen waves on the lake when the wind blew hard, but these waves were much bigger, crashing onto the rocks with spurts of foam. Hazeltail stared at them, wide-eyed, so scared that she could scarcely put one paw in front of another.

“I hate this,” Hollyleaf muttered, backing away toward the cliff face. “My fur’s getting all wet and sticky.” She turned her head to give her shoulder a lick. “Yuck!”

Lionblaze felt the same stickiness in his pelt; his nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar tang in the air. This is no place for cats, he told himself.