Dawnstripe caught up to him. “We have to wait for a gap.” She nodded toward a narrow, grass-filled ditch running alongside the Thunderpath. Hareflight and Shrewpaw were already scrambling into it. Dawnstripe followed. Tallpaw jumped down beside her, flinching as a monster sent grit showering over his pelt. He pressed his belly to the ground and shuddered as filthy water soaked his fur and monster stench rolled over him.
Eyes stinging, he stared at Dawnstripe. “Now what?”
“I’ll tell you when to run,” she promised.
Shrewpaw stretched up the far side of the ditch and peered over the edge. “Can I go yet?” He glanced back at Hareflight.
“Not till I say.” Hareflight reared up beside him to look out.
“But there’s a gap before the next monster!” Shrewpaw insisted. “I can make it.”
“Look both ways—”
Before Hareflight could finish his warning, Shrewpaw leaped up onto the Thunderpath and began to race across.
“Not yet!” With a yowl of horror, Hareflight pelted after him.
Tallpaw’s pelt bristled. On the far side of the path, a monster was hurtling toward the young tom. Shrewpaw stopped and stared as its eye beams lit him up like a blaze of fire. Eyes stretching in terror, he gaped at the monster. Brown fur blurred as Hareflight hurled himself at Shrewpaw. They tumbled away together as the monster raced past, wailing.
“Did they make it?” Tallpaw whispered.
Dawnstripe was peering over the edge of the path. Her whole body was stiff, her pelt spiked up along her spine.
Ears showed in the grass on the far side of the Thunderpath. Two pairs of eyes flashed. Hareflight and Shrewpaw were staring back at them across the stone.
“They made it,” Dawnstripe breathed, slumping down with relief.
Tallpaw’s heart pounded. “It’s our turn.” He swallowed hard.
“Don’t go till I say,” warned Dawnstripe.
Tallpaw didn’t intend to. Standing on Outlook Rock, he’d seen birds peeling fresh-kill from the Thunderpath. He wasn’t going to be crow-food before he’d seen the world beyond Clan territory.
Dawnstripe’s head twitched as she watched the monsters flash past. Then she grew still, her gaze fixed farther down the path. She checked the other way. “Ready?” she hissed.
Tallpaw tensed. “Ready.”
A monster sped past one way, then the other.
“Now!” Dawnstripe leaped from the ditch. Tallpaw scrambled after her. “Just run!” Dawnstripe yowled, pelting across the hard, black path.
Tallpaw’s pads stung as he pushed against the stone. It was sharp with grit and grazed his paws, but he kept running, his gaze fixed on the verge ahead. He dived onto the grass, blood roaring in his ears, and skidded to a halt. “Dawnstripe?”
He glanced back, relieved to see her panting, a muzzle-length behind. Hareflight padded up to meet her. “I’ll never get used to it,” he growled.
“It’ll be quieter on the way back,” Dawnstripe panted. “The monsters sleep at night.”
Tallpaw tasted the air. The strange scents reminded him of Bess and Reena and how they’d smelled when they first arrived—like stale food and smoke. But he could also smell prey. He ducked beneath a long row of bushes and pricked his ears, listening for the scurrying of tiny claws.
“Tallpaw!” Dawnstripe poked her head in beside him. “Not this way.”
Disappointed, he trotted after her as she led the way along the line of bushes, turning as the path led them upslope. They trekked through meadows of long, wet grass that soaked Tallpaw’s belly fur and chilled his paws until they were numb. The land sloped up, then down, until Tallpaw’s legs ached with walking.
The stars were shining in a peat-black sky by the time the lush fields gave way to stubby grass. The land steepened and the grass turned to stones beneath their paws. Hareflight shook out his fur. Dawnstripe paused and gazed across the rocky soil. Tatty heather dotted the slope, clinging to the stony ground with spindly roots.
Tallpaw looked up. Highstones rose above them, so tall they blocked the mountains behind. Moonlight washed the rocks like water. He could hear Shrewpaw panting and glanced over his shoulder. The young tom’s eyes were clouded with exhaustion, his shoulders drooping. For a moment, Tallpaw felt a flash of sympathy for his denmate. “We’re nearly there,” he mewed.
Dawnstripe lifted her golden muzzle and stared up the slope. Higher up the slope, a hole yawned, square and black. “Mothermouth,” Dawnstripe whispered.
Tallpaw scrambled toward the hole, forgetting his tiredness as excitement pulsed in his paws. Stones cracked behind him as Hareflight, Dawnstripe, and Shrewpaw followed. Tallpaw looked over his shoulder at the valley that stretched back toward the moor. They’d come so far! WindClan territory seemed suddenly small, dwarfed by the wide, star-specked sky.
