Chapter 19

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Sandstar leaped up the slope leading into Windclan territory from Fourtrees. Behind him streamed a patrol of his warriors: Silverstream, Sorreltail, Fireheart, Brightheart, and Ferncloud with his apprentice, Ashpaw. Sandstar had not dared bring more cats to Windclan's aid; he had left Brindleface in charge of the Thunderclan camp with every other warrior on watch, in case Goldenstar planned to attack them as well.

His paws skimmed the springy moorland turf as his legs drove him toward the Windclan camp. A cold wind flattened his fur, carrying the distant scent of Shadowclan. Although Sandstar knew he was still too far away, he imagined he could hear the screeches of battle as Goldenstar's warriors fell on the unsuspecting Windclan.

"We'll be too late," panted Silverstream at his shoulder. "How long did it take Mudclaw to reach us, wounded like that?"

Sandstar did not waste breath in replying. He knew Silverstream was right. This was not the first time that Thunderclan had raced to help Windclan against an alliance of Shadowclan and Riverclan. But that time they had been given more warning and they had managed to drive the attacking warriors away. Now, by the time they reached the Windclan camp, the battle could be over, and yet Sandstar knew that they had to try. The warrior code, his own friendships within Windclan, and the urgency of joining together to resist Tigerclan all forced him to lead his warriors to the rescue as quickly as he could.

As they drew nearer, the scent of Shadowclan was joined by a trace of Riverclan, mingling in a new scent that Sandstar realized was the distinctive odor of Tigerclan. They were near enough that he expected to hear the yowls of fighting cats, and the silence gripped his heart like cold claws. The battle must be over. Sandstar slowed his pace and he and his patrol climbed that last slope toward the camp, his belly filling with dread at the thought of what they might find.

Sandstar slipped quietly up to the ridge where he could look down over the camp. There was a strong scent of Windclan in the air, along with the tang of blood and fear. A single eerie wail broke the silence as Sandstar breasted the rise and saw what Goldenstar had done.

The hollow where the Windclan cats had their camp was lined with gorse bushes. A few yellow flowers still showed on the spiny branches. Beyond, in the center of the camp, Sandstar could see cats huddled together, scarcely moving. As he watched, a pale gray queen raised her head and let out another chilling wail.

"Cloudrunner!" Sandstar exclaimed.

Flicking his tail for his warriors to follow him, he raced down through the bushes and into the camp. Bursting out into the open, he was confronted by the Windclan leader, Tallstar. The black and white she-cat's fur was torn and covered in dust, and her long tail drooped with exhaustion.

"Sandstar!" Her voice was rough with pain. "I knew you would come."

"Not soon enough. I'm sorry."

The Windclan leader shook her head helplessly. "You did your best." She turned toward the cats who crouched on the floor of the clearing, too shocked or injured to move. "You can see what Goldenstar has done."

"Tell us what happened," urged Silverstream.

Tallstar twitched her ears. "You can see. Goldenstar and his warriors crept up on us... we had no warning, and in any case there were too many for us to fight."

Sandstar padded forward, feeling his stomach turn over. None of the Windclan warriors had escaped without wounds. Ashfoot, the Windclan deputy, was lying very still with blood trickling from a gash on his flank; next to him lay Runningbrook, a tom whose pale gray fur was hanging off his shoulder in clumps. Their eyes stared at nothing, as if they couldn't believe what had happened.

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