by Erin Hunter
“Well, I think that’s all nonsense!” Mousefur stalked up to Ashfur, her skinny brown tail lashing. “If the Tribe cats can’t defend their own borders, that’s their problem, not ours.”
Longtail padded up beside her and touched her shoulder briefly with his tail tip. “I’d love to go back to the mountains.” His voice was wistful. “I know I couldn’t see where the Tribe lived, but I could feel the wide open spaces and the wind in my fur, and all the scents the wind carried from far away.”
“I’d like to go back, too!” Birchfall’s eyes glowed with memories. “The Great Journey was fun! I had three good friends in ShadowClan: Toadkit, Applekit, and Marshkit. I wonder how they are now.”
“Who cares?” Berrynose flicked his tail; Lionpaw thought he could see jealousy in the cream warrior’s eyes. “ShadowClan cats can’t be your friends anymore. Have you forgotten how you nearly got your fur clawed off on the border?”
And whose fault was that? Lionpaw asked silently, while Birchfall looked downcast, his tail drooping.
“Anyway,” Berrynose went on, “I don’t see what’s so great about the mountains. It sounds bare and cold up there, with no prey.”
“You know nothing about it,” Dustpelt rasped, narrowing his eyes. “You weren’t there.”
As Berrynose rudely turned his back on the senior warrior, Lionpaw beckoned with his tail for his littermates to follow him out of earshot of the group.
“That does it!” he exclaimed. “If Birchfall could travel through the mountains and survive when he was just a kit, why shouldn’t apprentices go? You’d be okay too,” he added to Jaypaw. “Longtail coped, after all.”
He saw Jaypaw’s neck fur begin to fluff up, but Lionpaw was too excited to fret about offending his brother. If Jaypaw wanted to be prickly every time some cat mentioned his blindness, that was his problem.
“We’ve got to find Firestar and ask him right now,” he meowed. “Before Brambleclaw and the others leave.” He glanced around to see if any cat was paying attention to them. By now the group of cats was beginning to break up. Cloudtail called Sorreltail and Dustpelt to go out on a hunting patrol, while the elders returned to their den. Two or three of the other warriors padded over to the fresh-kill pile and picked out prey. Outside the nursery, Daisy and Millie stretched out in the sunshine and began sharing tongues, with Daisy’s kits skipping around them.
“Quick, while our mentors aren’t looking!” Hollypaw urged, angling her ears to where Ashfur and Brackenfur were talking together in the middle of the clearing.
Lionpaw dived after her as she bounded across the clearing and thrust her way through the thorn tunnel. When all three apprentices were out in the forest, she turned to Jaypaw.
“Come on, you’re best at scenting. Which way did Firestar go?”
The scent trail left by the Clan leader and the other cats had begun to fade, but Lionpaw could still distinguish it among the competing scents of the forest, especially the unfamiliar scent of the Tribe cats.
“You know,” he mewed to Hollypaw as they followed Jaypaw through the trees, “I’ve just realized that Brook smells like a ThunderClan cat now. Do you think she’ll be able to settle in when she goes back to her Tribemates?”
Hollypaw flashed him a brief glance. “That’s for Stoneteller to say. He seems to speak for the Tribe.”
“Stoneteller speaks too much, by the sound of it,” Jaypaw mewed. “I’m glad Firestar isn’t like that.”
He led the way through the forest until Lionpaw could hear the ripple of waves on the lakeshore. The scent of cats was very strong here. Jaypaw crept quietly up to the top of a gentle rise and parted a clump of bracken carefully with one paw. Without speaking, he signaled with his tail for his brother and sister to join him.
Beyond the bracken, the ground fell away into a sunlit clearing with a soft covering of moss and leaf-mold. On the opposite side the lake was just visible between the trees. A breeze rustled through the leaves, blowing toward the three apprentices, so the group of warriors would be unlikely to pick up their scents.
Firestar was sitting in the middle of the clearing with his paws tucked under him. “Squirrelflight, you’ll need to find a temporary mentor for Foxpaw,” he was saying.
Squirrelflight dipped her head in agreement. “I’d like to ask Sorreltail, if that’s okay with you. She’s never had an apprentice, so it would be good experience for her as well.”
“Sorreltail would be great,” Leafpool added warmly.
“Fine, I’ll have a word with her when we get back to camp.” Firestar turned to Brambleclaw. “I’m not sure that four extra cats are going to be enough to help the Tribe. But I daren’t weaken ThunderClan by sending more warriors with you.”
Hollypaw nudged Lionpaw. “Maybe that’s a chance for us,” she whispered.
“I thought of that,” Brambleclaw replied to Firestar. “I’d like to take cats from all four Clans with us. The ones who went with us on the first journey to find Midnight at the sun-drown-place.”
Lionpaw pushed Jaypaw and beckoned Hollypaw with a flick of his ears to creep along the top of the rise as far as a holly bush, where they could hide and still see and hear everything that was going on. Firestar began to speak again as they settled among the debris under the branches, their pelts brushing.
“That makes sense,” Firestar meowed in reply to Brambleclaw. “The cats who’ve known the Tribe longest should be the ones most willing to go.”
“It would be good to see Crowfeather and Tawnypelt again,” Talon murmured.
“This isn’t part of the warrior code,” Firestar went on. “I can’t ask any cat to go unless he or she already wants to—and of course I can’t speak for cats in other Clans. But I believe that helping the Tribe is the right thing to do.”
Lionpaw was puzzled. “If it’s the right thing, why isn’t it in the warrior code?”
“It is in the code,” Hollypaw insisted. “The warrior code says that we’re allowed to help other Clans in trouble. Firestar’s obviously thinking of the Tribe as another Clan.”
“That’s decided, then,” Firestar meowed. “Squirrelflight, you’ll go to WindClan to ask Crowfeather, and Brambleclaw can go to ShadowClan to ask Tawnypelt.”
“There’s no need to go to RiverClan.” Lionpaw’s pelt prickled with sympathy at the sorrow in Stormfur’s eyes. “Feathertail was the chosen cat, and she died in the mountains. I went with her, so I shall stand for RiverClan now.”
The cats in the clearing were silent for a moment. Squirrelflight rested her tail comfortingly on Stormfur’s shoulder.
“The Tribe will always honor Feathertail’s memory,” Night mewed softly.
Jaypaw twitched.
“This is a good plan.” Talon broke the silence at last. “Stoneteller knows the five of you better than any other Clan cats, so he’s more likely to trust you.”
“What?” Brook’s ears flattened, and she turned her head to stare at her brother. “Stoneteller did send you to fetch us, didn’t he?”
Night and Talon looked at their paws; Talon’s tail flicked uncomfortably. “Not exactly,” he mumbled, then added, “but I’m sure he’ll be glad when he knows you’ve come to help.”
“Great.” Stormfur’s voice was bitter. “I get to be told I’m dead all over again.”
Brook pressed her muzzle to her mate’s. “Please, Stormfur, we have to do this. Stoneteller won’t be the Healer forever, but the Tribe deserves to last beyond his lifespan.”
“From what Talon and Night say, we don’t have much time,” Firestar meowed. “Brambleclaw, you can leave for ShadowClan right away.”
“And you three can come out now.” Squirrelflight rose to her paws and stared straight at the holly bush.
“Fox dung,” Hollypaw muttered. “We’ll end up searching the elders for ticks instead of going to the mountains.”
“Come on,” Squirrelflight repeated. “If you don’t want to be seen, Lionpaw, don’t leave your tail sticking out.”
/> His fur hot with embarrassment, Lionpaw emerged from the bush and padded down the slope toward his mother. “Mouse-brain!” Hollypaw hissed as she followed him with Jaypaw.
“You shouldn’t have been spying,” Squirrelflight mewed severely when the three apprentices were standing in front of her. “Cats who listen uninvited might hear things they don’t want to.”
“But we had to listen!” Lionpaw burst out. “We want to go with you!”
Squirrelflight’s green eyes stretched wide in astonishment, while Brambleclaw’s neck fur was fluffing up ominously. But to Lionpaw’s relief Firestar blinked in amusement.
“Don’t be angry with them,” he told Squirrelflight. “They remind me of a certain ginger apprentice who also insisted on going on a journey when she hadn’t been invited.”
Squirrelflight huffed, making her whiskers flutter, and gave a single lash of her tail.
“Why do you want to go?” Firestar prompted.
Lionpaw was opening his jaws to reply when Hollypaw gave him a nudge. “We want to help the Tribe cats, too,” she announced. “Lionpaw and I are good fighters, and Jaypaw…well, Jaypaw can help heal cats who are injured.”
“Thanks a bunch,” Jaypaw muttered.
“Jaypaw can do more than that,” Leafpool meowed calmly. Jaypaw jumped as if he was surprised to find the medicine cat on his side.
“For what it’s worth,” Leafpool went on, “I think they should be allowed to go. When we lived in the forest, all the apprentices made the journey to Mothermouth, to visit the Moonstone, before they became warriors. We seem to have left that tradition behind, but I think there’s value in apprentices making a long journey, to see what lies beyond their territories.”
Warmth spread through Lionpaw from whiskers to tail tip as he heard Leafpool putting words to the longing in his own mind. “Please can we go?” he begged.
“I agree with Leafpool,” Sandstorm mewed. “There’s nothing to be lost in meeting other cats and seeing how they live.” Her gaze held Firestar’s for a moment as if she and the Clan leader were sharing memories.
“Brambleclaw, what do you think?” Firestar asked. “They’ll be an extra responsibility, and it could be very tough for them. A long, hard journey, and fighting at the end of it.”
“I’m sure my kits can manage it.” There was a glow of approval in Brambleclaw’s amber eyes as his gaze swept over the three apprentices. “I’d be proud to take them to meet the Tribe of Rushing Water.”
“Even if we’re not sure of our reception?” Stormfur reminded him softly.
No cat answered him. Instead, Brambleclaw rose to his paws. “Are you ready?” he asked Lionpaw.
“For what?” Lionpaw meowed, his paws tingling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
“We must go to ShadowClan and see if Tawnypelt will come with us,” his father replied.
“Great!” Lionpaw couldn’t stop himself from bouncing eagerly, then froze, cross that he was behaving like a stupid kit. “I’m looking forward to seeing Tawnypelt’s kits. They’re my kin,” he added, trying to sound more dignified.
Squirrelflight glanced briefly at Leafpool. “Hollypaw, you can come with me to WindClan to find out if Crowfeather will come with us,” she meowed.
“What about me?” Jaypaw asked.
“Come back to the clearing with me,” Leafpool told him. “We’ll need to prepare traveling herbs.”
“If the other cats agree to go,” Firestar mewed, “bring them back to the hollow. You can leave in the morning.”
“Fine. Let’s go, Hollypaw.” Squirrelflight waved her tail and set off through the trees toward the WindClan border. Hollypaw darted after her, almost stumbling over her paws in her haste.
“All set, Lionpaw?” Brambleclaw asked.
Lionpaw nodded; his chest felt tight at the thought of crossing the border into another Clan’s territory.
“Good luck, all of you!” Firestar called.
Lionpaw waited until Hollypaw’s black pelt had vanished among the rustling bracken. Then he turned and plunged into the undergrowth, following his father.
CHAPTER 11
Wind whipped through Lionpaw’s pelt as he raced toward the ShadowClan border. He couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be than running beside his father, with an important mission ahead and the chance to prove himself. He was proud of how he kept up with Brambleclaw; he wasn’t as big, but his legs were nearly as long.
“Watch out,” Brambleclaw warned. “Fallen tree ahead.”
Lionpaw had already spotted it, a beech with smooth gray bark, brought down in the storms of the previous leaf-bare. A few dead leaves still clung to its branches, rustling in the breeze. Brambleclaw skirted the roots, but Lionpaw sprang upward, scrabbling with his hind paws to drag himself on top of the trunk, and pushed his way through the branches until he could leap down on the other side.
He wanted to show Brambleclaw just how fast and powerful he could be, so when a small stream crossed their path he gathered his muscles for an enormous leap and launched himself across the water. His paws stretched for a smooth flat stone on the opposite side, but just before he landed a blackbird erupted from a hazel bush just ahead, giving a raucous alarm call.
Startled, Lionpaw landed awkwardly; his hind paws slipped and cold water surged over his haunches and his tail. “Mouse dung!” he spat, his claws scoring the stone as he dragged himself out.
Brambleclaw was waiting for him on the bank, amusement glimmering in his amber eyes. “Steady on,” he purred. “You’re not a RiverClan cat, and we haven’t time for fishing.”
“Sorry,” Lionpaw muttered. Glittering drops of water spun away from his pelt as he tried to shake himself dry.
As they drew closer to ShadowClan territory, Brambleclaw’s pace slowed, until he came to a halt on the border not far from the dead tree.
“What are we waiting for?” Lionpaw mewed.
“A ShadowClan patrol,” his father replied. “They’ll escort us to their camp.”
“But you know where the camp is,” Lionpaw protested, flexing his claws in frustration. “It’s not as if we’re attacking them! Why can’t we just go?”
“Because Blackstar won’t see it like that.” Brambleclaw looked down at him, serious now. “We’re coming to take one of his warriors away on a long, dangerous journey, to help a completely different group of cats. He won’t like it, and I can’t say I blame him. Besides, the warrior code forbids us to trespass on another Clan’s territory, whether we’re friendly or not. We’ll wait.” He sat down just on the ThunderClan side of the border and wrapped his tail over his paws. “If you want something to do, you can groom that wet fur. I don’t want ShadowClan thinking that ThunderClan apprentices can’t look after themselves.”
Lionpaw’s pelt had begun to dry, the hairs clumping together in untidy tufts. He sat down and gave himself a thorough washing, stretching his neck over his back to reach every last scrap of fur. When he had finished there were still no ShadowClan warriors in sight.
“Don’t they ever patrol their borders?” he grumbled, batting at a beetle that was climbing a grass stem near his nose.
Brambleclaw had settled into a crouch, his paws tucked comfortably under him and his eyes slitted, enjoying the sun. “They’ll be along soon. You can hunt if you want, but make sure you stay on this side of the border.”
Lionpaw sprang up, but before he could pinpoint any prey he heard the sound of pelts swishing through the bracken a few fox-lengths away. A ShadowClan patrol appeared from the arching fronds and stalked toward the border. Lionpaw recognized Russetfur, the ShadowClan deputy, but the other two—a young dark brown tom and a tortoiseshell she-cat—were strangers to him.
As soon as he spotted Brambleclaw and Lionpaw waiting by the border, the young tom exclaimed, “Intruders! I knew I’d scented them.” He bounded forward, his fur bristling.
“Toadfoot, wait!” Russetfur overtook her Clanmate and padded up to Brambleclaw. “What do you wa
nt?”
“Greetings.” Brambleclaw dipped his head, ignoring the deputy’s hostile tone. “We’re not intruding, Russetfur, just waiting for an escort to your camp. We need to speak to Blackstar.”
Russetfur’s whiskers twitched suspiciously. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until the Gathering?”
“A decision that Blackstar must make now.”
The ShadowClan deputy lashed her tail; Lionpaw guessed she was furious that Brambleclaw wouldn’t tell her what his business was. Reluctantly she stepped back, jerking her head to invite Brambleclaw and Lionpaw across the border.
“Ivytail, run back to the camp and warn Blackstar,” she ordered. “Toadfoot, keep an eye out behind. We need to be sure that there aren’t any more ThunderClan warriors lurking about.”
She turned and stalked off, with Brambleclaw padding quietly at her shoulder, while Toadfoot drew close to Lionpaw, fixing him with a fierce glare. “Don’t even think about unsheathing your claws,” he hissed.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Lionpaw retorted. He remembered Birchfall, back in camp, talking about his friendship with ShadowClan kits during the Great Journey. Toadkit was one of the names he mentioned; this young warrior must be the same cat.
“Do you remember Birchkit?” he asked, trying to be more friendly. “He’s Birchfall now.”
“So?” Toadfoot sounded just as hostile.
“He was telling us about you earlier today. He said what good friends he was with you and your littermates.”
For a heartbeat he thought he saw a shadow of sadness in Toadfoot’s eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.
“That was on the Great Journey,” Toadfoot meowed. “Things were different then. I’m a ShadowClan warrior now.”
Lionpaw stifled a sigh. Why couldn’t you be a loyal warrior and still have friends in other Clans? He wondered if things had been better on the Great Journey, when there were no borders, so you didn’t have to be enemies with other cats just because of where they lived.
But he couldn’t go on thinking about that now, not when Russetfur was leading them deeper into ShadowClan territory. Lionpaw’s whiskers twitched as they skirted the empty stretch of grass where Twolegs came in greenleaf. He had seen the flat green pelts they put there when he was on border patrols, but he had never set paw anywhere near them. He tasted Twoleg scent as Russetfur led them past, creeping close to the ground in the shadow of the ferns, but there was no noise of Twoleg yowling or any sign of the Twolegs themselves.
