by Erin Hunter
Lightleap purred. “Hollowspring couldn’t be sure of catching it,” she explained to Shadowsight now the hunt was over. “But he knew Blazefire would cut it off. A sure kill is better than a quick kill.”
Shadowsight blinked at his sister. He hadn’t realized she knew so much about hunting.
“Come on,” she mewed, heading away happily. “Let’s go help bury it. We can pick it up on the way home.”
Shadowsight hung back as Lightleap scooped out soft earth between the roots of a pine. Blazefire laid the rabbit in the hole and covered it with loose dirt and leaves. Gullswoop padded around the tree, her white tail flicking with obvious satisfaction. The whole patrol seemed happy. Shadowsight hadn’t known how much fun it was, being a warrior. He was used to working alone, gathering herbs or tending to sick Clanmates. His life as a medicine cat seemed suddenly solitary compared to this, especially now that he was allowed to treat only one patient.
“Will you teach me how to scent prey?” he whispered to Lightleap as she began to lead the patrol through the forest once more. “All I can pick out is herbs.”
She purred. “I hadn’t thought about that.” She paused and tasted the air. “Can you smell what I smell?”
Shadowsight stopped beside her and opened his mouth.
Gullswoop, Blazefire, and Hollowspring pulled up behind them.
“What are we looking for?” Gullswoop whispered.
“We’re smelling for prey,” Lightleap told him.
Hollowspring sniffed. “I can smell a—”
“Hush!” Lightleap cut him off. “Shadowsight needs to practice.”
Shadowsight breathed deeper, trying not to notice the dock scent that hung heavy in the air here. He tasted a musky scent beneath it—a familiar musky scent. He concentrated, trying to remember which piece of prey from the fresh-kill pile it smelled like. Excitement fizzed in his paws as he remembered. “Mouse?”
Lightleap flicked her tail happily. “Well done.” She nodded toward a beech tree that had made a space for itself among the pines. “You often find mice around beech trees,” she told him. “They eat the nuts, so it’s a good place to hunt in leaf-bare, when berries are scarce.”
“Look.” Hollowspring hissed. The black warrior had dropped his tail. He was staring at a blueberry patch a few tree-lengths away. Four sparrows were hopping among the leaves, pecking at the fruit that was beginning to ripen there.
Lightleap nodded, and the patrol picked its way quietly between the trees. Gullswoop and Blazefire moved out in a wide arc around the sparrows, clearly planning to approach them from the far side of the blueberry patch. Shadowsight stuck close to Lightleap, hardly daring to breathe. He didn’t want to scare the birds away.
As they neared, Lightleap nodded. “Stay back,” she told him, her order barely a whisper.
Shadowsight waited as the others closed in on the unsuspecting birds. His heart was pounding. How would they catch the sparrows before they fluttered away? The patrol crept nearer until they were only a few tail-lengths from their prey. Another few paw steps and they’d be within leaping distance. Shadowsight watched, enthralled, willing them to make the catch.
Suddenly, a buzz sounded in his ear. His heart seemed to burst as a bee brushed his ear fur, its hum so loud that he hardly heard his own yelp of shock. He leaped backward, his fur spiking with panic. Crying with alarm, the sparrows fluttered into the trees, their feathers ruffled with surprise.
Hollowspring turned on him and glared through the trees. “You mouse-brain!”
“I’m sorry.” Shadowsight blinked at the black tom, flustered with embarrassment. He glanced over his shoulder, hoping the bee was gone. There was no sign of it.
“It’s okay.” Lightleap headed back to Shadowsight, her mew calm. “We’ll find some more.”
Hollowspring grunted, following her with Gullswoop and Blazefire. “What scared you?”
Shadowsight looked at the ground. “A bee buzzed in my ear.”
Blazefire’s whiskers twitched. “A bee?” Shadowsight could tell he was trying to swallow back a purr.
“It was a big bee,” Shadowsight mewed defensively.
Gullswoop’s eyes shimmered with amusement. “Bees are a warrior’s greatest enemy.”
“More dangerous than foxes,” Blazefire teased.
Shadowsight glanced at them ruefully. At least they thought it was funny, unlike Hollowspring, who was still glaring at him.
“I guess it’s okay for some cats to ruin a hunt,” the tom muttered resentfully. “I guess some cats can do whatever they like.”
Lightleap stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Hollowspring looked away sullenly.
Lightleap glared at him. “Spit it out.”
Hollowspring hesitated, then swung his gaze back at the brown tabby she-cat. “I’m not sure it’s smart to criticize one of Tigerstar’s kin.”
Lightleap stared at him as though she didn’t know what to say. Gullswoop and Blazefire shifted awkwardly.
Hollowspring turned away. “Come on,” he growled. “Let’s catch something. The Clan will be hungry if we don’t.”
Shadowsight’s paws felt frozen to the earth. Does every cat in ShadowClan resent me? Dismay crept beneath his pelt like cold water. He’d assumed his Clanmates hadn’t challenged him about Bramblestar’s death because they liked and respected him enough to forgive him. But perhaps they hadn’t forgiven him. They could be keeping quiet for fear of making Tigerstar angry. Shadowsight suddenly felt weak with dread. Had his Clanmates all turned against him without him realizing?
Chapter 9
Rootspring hardly noticed the drizzle that fell on the patrol as he led it from the cover of the trees. He was thinking about Bristlefrost. She was trailing behind, staying close to Spotfur. The gray-and-white she-cat had complained she felt nauseous and had quickly grown tired as they’d climbed hill after hill, each one higher than the last, following the direction Pancakes’s kits had given them.
Needleclaw fell in beside him and stared gloomily at the slope rising ahead. “Surely we should have found the river by now,” she fretted. “Do you think those kits even knew where Leaf was headed?”
Rootspring followed her gaze without seeing. Sitting guard last night with Bristlefrost had made his fur tingle. It tingled now, despite the rain that slicked his pelt against his body. He reminded himself that they were just friends, but that didn’t stop his heart leaping and racing like a playful kit. Far from the Clans, alone with the moon, the moment with Bristlefrost had seemed perfect.
Needleclaw jabbed his shoulder with her muzzle. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”
Rootspring blinked at his sister, unable to stop himself from glancing guiltily back at Bristlefrost.
“I knew it!” Needleclaw looked dismayed. “You have to get over her. You two can never happen.”
“We’re just friends,” Rootspring insisted.
“Friends don’t keep staring at each other like moonstruck rabbits.” Needleclaw mewed sharply. “I should never have let you stand guard together last night.” She jerked her muzzle closer. “Did anything happen?”
“No.” Rootspring bristled defensively. “I told you, we’re just friends.”
Needleclaw shot him a warning look. “When we get home, find a friend in your own Clan.” She sounded more worried than angry. “If you keep trying to hang out with Bristlefrost, you’ll both end up in trouble.”
“But there’s no cat like her,” Rootspring protested. “She’s so strong, and she’s been through so much. Besides, the warrior code might change. The Clans are working together more and more now. You never know, one day—”
Needleclaw silenced him with a look. “You’re fooling yourself and her if you think the Clans are ever going to allow you and Bristlefrost to be together.”
“You don’t know that.” Crossly, Rootspring quickened his pace, breaking into a run to reach the top of the slope. His heart dropped like a stone
as he saw what lay beyond.
Needleclaw caught up. “Do you see the river?”
Rootspring gazed down at the Twoleg nests crowding the valley. There was no river in sight. Too many huge gray dens cluttered the view. He’d never seen a Twolegplace this large. “The Sisters would never have come this way,” he mewed, dismayed.
Needleclaw pawed the earth nervously. “The kits must have been wrong.”
“Perhaps we misunderstood them.” As Rootspring stared at the forest of rain-soaked Twoleg nests, Bristlefrost and Spotfur stopped beside them.
Spotfur’s pelt spiked. “We’re not going down there, are we?”
Rootspring looked at her. What was he supposed to say? They couldn’t give up now. “I guess we have to.”
Bristlefrost stared into the valley, her eyes rounding. “But there’s no sign of the river.”
Needleclaw swished her tail. “We should never have listened to those kits.”
“Perhaps we should try a different route.” Spotfur looked back the way they’d come.
Rootspring squared his shoulders. “This is the only lead we have,” he insisted. “We should keep going. The river’s probably down there somewhere. We just need to find our way through the Twoleg nests.” He looked at the others.
Bristlefrost met his gaze. “We’ve come this far,” she agreed. “Let’s keep going.” She headed for the wooden fence that bordered the first of the Twoleg nests and Rootspring followed, grateful for her support.
The edge of the Twolegplace was easy to navigate. Fences provided walkways between the gray stone nests, and the patrol followed them, running deftly along the ridges and leaping from one to another. Rootspring was relieved they could avoid crossing the grassy strips where the dog-scent was almost as strong as Twoleg stench. But at last the forest of fences ran out, and Rootspring stopped, his heart quickening as he saw a Thunderpath cutting its way like a river between the nests. There was no way around. They’d have to cross it.
Sleeping monsters lined the edge. He jumped onto the grass and crept closer. Needleclaw followed, narrowing her eyes as a growl sounded in the distance.
Rootspring followed her gaze, his heart lurching as a monster swung around a corner and rumbled toward them. Its glaring eyes sliced through the rain. “Look out!” Nosing Needleclaw away, he shielded her from the spray it threw across the grass.
She shuddered. “I hate Twolegplaces.”
As they shook the filthy water from their fur, Bristlefrost and Spotfur landed beside them.
Spotfur eyed the Thunderpath nervously. “Perhaps we should turn back.”
“We can’t give up,” Bristlefrost told her.
Rootspring glanced at the sky, wishing he could see where the sun was. It would tell them which direction they were heading. Frowning, he searched the clouds, hoping to see a lighter patch where the sun was trying to break through, but there was nothing but gray, each cloud darker than the next. He lifted his chin and tried to sound confident. “Let’s keep going.”
He looked along the Thunderpath, relieved to see it clear, and darted across, the stone scraping his paws. Needleclaw followed, Bristlefrost and Spotfur at her tail. On the other side, he led the patrol along a stone Twoleg path. The nests here were bigger; they kept growing higher as the patrol moved deeper into the Twolegplace, until Rootspring felt like he was in a forest of stone.
His chest tightened as the path opened onto a wider Thunderpath. There were no sleeping monsters here. Every monster was wide awake and grumbling, and they patrolled, nose to tail, along the gray strip of stone.
Rain fell between the towering Twoleg nests and dripped heavily from ledges where it gathered. Twolegs trudged along the paths, their eyes fixed on their paws. They seemed blind to one another, the monsters, and the warrior patrol.
Bristlefrost caught Rootspring’s eye. “How can we cross it?”
Rootspring blinked back at her. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. As he spoke, the entrance of a nest clattered a tree-length away, and Twolegs flooded onto the stone path, heading toward them.
“Look out!” Needleclaw dodged clear and crouched against the wall of the nest as the Twolegs streamed around them.
Rootspring pressed himself against the ground, praying that a Twoleg wouldn’t crush him. His breath caught in his throat as he heard a yelp, and he jerked his muzzle around. Bristlefrost and Spotfur were teetering on the edge of the Twoleg path, their eyes wide with panic as monsters and Twolegs hemmed them in on either side. A wide stream of filthy water swept past them, spilling over the stone and splashing their paws.
“Stay there!” he ordered.
As he darted toward them, zigzagging between the Twolegs, Spotfur’s paws slipped over the edge. With a yelp, she tumbled into the water. Rootspring leaped for her, but Bristlefrost had already grabbed her Clanmate’s scruff. She held her fast as water flooded over her muzzle. A Twoleg lunged down, reaching its pink paw toward her. Rootspring batted it away with outstretched claws. As it barked and shrank away, Rootspring hooked his claws into Spotfur’s pelt.
A wall of spray blasted him as a monster roared past. Spitting out the foul water, he caught Bristlefrost’s eye. She was straining to hold on to Spotfur’s scruff. Fear glittered in her gaze as another monster veered toward them. Heart bursting with the effort, Rootspring heaved Spotfur up.
The Thunderclan she-cat’s paws scrabbled to find a grip on the stone as he let go. “Thank you,” she gasped, then staggered, her paws buckling beneath her.
Bristlefrost shoved her shoulder against her Clanmate’s flank. Rootspring ducked around and pressed against her on the other side. Between them, they guided Spotfur around the Twolegs, who hopped and squawked like surprised pigeons as they passed.
“This is too dangerous!” Needleclaw yowled as they reached her, straining to be heard over the rumbling of the monsters.
Rootspring shook water from his pelt. “If we stay close to the wall, we’ll be okay,” he promised, hoping it was true.
Bristlefrost sniffed her Clanmate’s pelt. “Are you okay?”
Spotfur stared at her, stiff with shock, then shivered. “I’m fine,” she rasped. “But let’s get out of here.” She looked expectantly at Rootspring.
“Come on.” He hurried along the stone walkway, pressing himself against the wall until the Twolegs began to thin. Then he stopped and faced the others. “We need to cross the Thunderpath.”
“How?” Needleclaw stared at the monsters filing past.
Rootspring’s thoughts whirled. It would be too dangerous to dodge between them, but there was no other way to go on.
“Look!” Bristlefrost was staring toward a branchless tree. Three eyes stared from the top. As the red eye shone a warning, the monsters stopped, as though obeying it. A gap opened on the Thunderpath.
“Quick!” Bristlefrost darted forward. “We can cross!” She was already ducking in front of the unmoving monsters as they watched the colored eyes.
Rootspring stared after her, blood pulsing in his throat. Spotfur and Needleclaw raced at her tail and, pressing back panic, he pelted after them, his lungs burning from the acrid stench. As they reached the other side, the light blinked green and the monsters began roaring and lurched forward once more.
Rootspring blinked at Bristlefrost. “You could have been killed.”
She lifted her muzzle. “It was the only way to cross.”
He struggled to catch his breath. How could she be so reckless? And yet she’d been braver than any of them. He stared at her. “What if you’d died?” The thought horrified him. “What would I have done?”
Her eyes glistened for a moment as she met his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was only thinking about getting to the other side.”
Needleclaw was scanning the Twoleg nests ahead. “Which way now?” she asked.
Rootspring tore his gaze from Bristlefrost, his heart aching. He couldn’t let her take any more risks. “Follow me.” He led them along another walkway
, hoping he’d chosen the right route.
They kept moving, keeping low, learning quickly that red eyes meant the monsters would stop, and, before long they were crossing Thunderpaths as easily as they crossed streams. Rootspring soon felt as used to the Twolegs as he was to trees in the forest, and his heart no longer quickened each time they had to dodge one.
Bristlefrost caught his eye. “Are we still heading the right way?” Rain dripped from her long whiskers, and although she kept her mew bright, he could see uncertainty in her eyes.
“I think so.” Rootspring wished he could be surer. He had tried to keep track of each turn and crossing. But they must be nearing the end. The nests were smaller now, as though the Twolegs had grown tired of building, and the Thunderpaths were narrower. Monsters had grown rarer, and the nests spread farther apart, until each was bordered by its own strip of grass with fences between.
As the rain eased, Rootspring’s shoulders loosened. Above them, the clouds were tearing apart, and patches of blue sky showed through. The sun was still in the right part of the sky. With each paw step he grew more certain that they’d be out of the Twolegplace soon. Were those trees he could see beyond the nests?
“Let’s try this way.” He headed along a path between two nests and jumped onto the fence at the end, waiting for the rest of the patrol to catch up. Rootspring’s heart leaped with joy. The grass, which encircled the Twoleg nest, stretched toward a hedge, taller than a camp wall. Trees sprouted beyond. “It looks like forest!”
Bristlefrost scrambled up beside him. “The river might be beyond those trees.”
Spotfur climbed up the fence after Needleclaw and stared with tired, hollow eyes. Rootspring glanced at the Thunderclan warrior. Was she sick? He was responsible for her. He was responsible for the whole patrol, and there were no medicine cats here. He suddenly felt a long way from home.
“Come on.” Bristlefrost leaped down onto the grass and began to head toward the hedge.
“Be careful!” Rootspring tensed. They hadn’t checked for Twolegs.
Bristlefrost looked over her shoulder at him. “We’re nearly there.” She headed across the clearing, and Rootspring had no choice but to follow. Spotfur and Needleclaw thumped softly onto the grass behind him as he caught up to Bristlefrost.
