by Erin Hunter
“Speak up, can’t you?” Jay twitched her tail irritably. “I don’t know what’s the matter with you young cats. You all mumble into your fur.”
“Sorry.” Yellowpaw raised her voice. “A cat who knew Featherstorm?”
A small tabby-and-white she-cat flinched as Yellowpaw spoke the name, but she didn’t say anything. Jay shook her head, and all the other cats did the same.
Raggedpelt looked discouraged. “I guess that’s it, then,” he mewed.
Marmalade stepped forward. “You got your answer. You can leave now.”
Pixie and Red padded up to join them again.
“We don’t need an escort,” Raggedpelt snapped.
“We aren’t offering one.” Marmalade slid out his claws. “I said now.”
The other Twolegplace cats were gathering behind Marmalade. Yellowpaw could see the hostility in their eyes and the anger in their bristling fur. “It’s time we went,” she muttered.
Raggedpelt’s fur was bristling too, and he drew back his lips in a snarl. “No kittypet tells me what to do.”
“Mouse-brain! There’s no point in spilling their blood.” Yellowpaw shoved his shoulder hard. “What are you going to prove by fighting kittypets? Run!”
To her relief, Raggedpelt spun around and raced back down the alley, the way they had come. Yellowpaw followed; glancing back she saw Marmalade and more of the Twolegplace cats hard on their paws.
“Faster!” she gasped.
But as they came into sight of the first Twoleg fence, Marmalade and the others dropped back. “Stay away in the future!” Marmalade yowled after them.
Just as Yellowpaw bunched her muscles to leap up onto the fence, a voice from the shadows called, “Wait!”
Yellowpaw turned to see the small she-cat who had flinched at the mention of Featherstorm’s name. She was beckoning with one paw, her green eyes wide and nervous.
“What do you want?” Raggedpelt growled.
“There is a cat you need to speak to,” the she-cat replied. “Follow me.”
Raggedpelt exchanged a glance with Yellowpaw. “It might be a trap,” he murmured. “Why should she help us?”
“So that you’ll stay away,” the she-cat replied. “We want nothing to do with wild cats like you.”
“We have to risk it,” Yellowpaw insisted. “We have to know the truth!”
Raggedpelt hesitated a moment more, then shrugged. “Okay. But I still think we both have bees in our brain.”
The she-cat led the way around a corner and down another alley. “There was a forest cat hanging around here a while ago,” she meowed. “Her name might have been Featherstorm. I haven’t seen her for ages, though.”
Frustrated at coming so close to the information she needed, Yellowpaw slid out her claws. She didn’t mean to be threatening, but the she-cat gave her a glance of alarm.
“That cat had nothing to do with me,” she mewed defensively. She nodded toward the shadows between two Twoleg dens. “Hal knew her better than any of us. Ask him.”
Yellowpaw turned to see a pair of amber eyes gleaming in the darkness. She beckoned with her tail to Raggedpelt, who padded over to her. Meanwhile the small she-cat darted away, scrambled over a wall, and was gone.
Hal blinked as Yellowpaw and Raggedpelt approached. It was so dark, it was impossible to tell what color he was. “I heard what she said,” he began, before they asked him anything. “I never knew a cat called Featherstorm. I have nothing to do with forest cats.”
Yellowpaw could see that Hal was a kittypet; his collar gleamed as he shifted in the shadows.
“Okay, sorry we bothered you,” Raggedpelt responded, turning away.
Yellowpaw was following when instinct told her to glance back. Hal had emerged from the shadows and was slinking away along the line of Twoleg dens. Yellowpaw froze. The kittypet was a dark brown tabby, and except for the fact that his shoulders were broader and his muscles more filled out, he was the exact image of Raggedpelt.
“Wait!” Yellowpaw yowled, running after him. “You must have known Featherstorm! Look—this is your son!”
Hal turned back, his amber eyes growing cold. For a heartbeat he looked Raggedpelt up and down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snarled. “I have no son.”
“But just look at him—” Yellowpaw began, waving her tail at Raggedpelt. Hal simply spun around and began padding away.
“We have to go,” Raggedpelt interrupted. His voice was like ice. “This was a mouse-brained idea. We should never have come here.”
CHAPTER 8
“Yellowpaw! Yellowpaw!”
Deerleap’s voice broke into a dream where Yellowpaw was searching through the forest, though she couldn’t remember what she was hunting for. It was a huge effort to open her eyes. When she tried to sit up, every muscle in her body shrieked with fatigue, and her paws were aching.
What’s the matter with me? Then the events of the night before came flooding back into her mind. She and Raggedpelt had visited the Twolegplace, and dawn wasn’t far off by the time they returned to their nests.
And it was a disaster!
“Yellowpaw!” Deerleap called again, sounding more impatient this time.
Yellowpaw heaved herself out of her bedding. The other apprentices were stirring around her, looking bright-eyed and energetic.
“Where did you go last night?” Rowanpaw hissed. “I woke up and you weren’t in your nest.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Yellowpaw muttered as she struggled out of the den.
Outside Stonetooth was surrounded by a larger group of cats than usual. Even though she was so tired, Yellowpaw felt a tingle of excitement.
“What’s happening?” she asked Deerleap.
“We’re going to raid the rats in the Carrionplace,” Deerleap replied. “Prey is scarce, so Cedarstar decided to send two patrols to hunt there. With any luck, we’ll catch enough to feed the whole Clan.”
Mingled fear and anticipation crept through Yellowpaw. She was proud, too, that she had been chosen to go on this special raid. She could sense hopeful tension in the camp, as if every cat was looking forward to being full-fed when the raid was over.
When she and Deerleap padded up to the crowd of cats, Stonetooth was organizing the patrols. “I’ll lead one, and Cedarstar the other,” he meowed. “Hollyflower, Archeye, Poolcloud, Ashheart, you come with me. And Deerleap and Amberleaf, with your apprentices. Raggedpelt, you too.”
As Stonetooth named the cats they stepped out of the crowd and bunched together at one side. Raggedpelt brushed past Yellowpaw as he joined the patrol, not even acknowledging that she was there.
“Did you guys have a fight?” Rowanpaw whispered to Yellowpaw. “Great StarClan, were you with him last night?”
“Can we have a bit of quiet at the back?” Finchflight hissed, before Yellowpaw could reply. “Yellowpaw, join your patrol if you’re coming on this raid.”
Yellowpaw shot a glare at her sister before padding off to stand with her mentor and the others. Meanwhile, Stonetooth named the cats for Cedarstar’s patrol, including Rowanpaw, Scorchpaw, and their mentors. Brightflower and Brackenfoot joined that patrol as well.
“What about us?” Foxpaw demanded, pattering up with her brother a mouse-length behind.
“You’re too young,” Stonetooth responded. “Rats are big enough to eat you.”
“So we get left behind again,” Wolfpaw growled, standing beside his sister and glaring as the patrols left.
As she followed Stonetooth through the forest, Yellowpaw hung back until she could walk beside Raggedpelt, who was walking near the rear of the patrol. “Are you okay?” she meowed. “I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing last night.”
Raggedpelt gave her a brief, cold glance. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mewed. “As far as I’m concerned, I have no father.” Not giving Yellowpaw the chance to reply, he bounded ahead until he was walking just behind Stonetooth.
Yellowpaw looked sadly after
him, her pelt pricking with feelings of guilt. I was only trying to help! Giving her fur a shake, she padded on, trying to put the encounter with the Twolegplace cats out of her mind. I’m a ShadowClan apprentice, and right now my job is to catch prey!
The breeze carried the scents of rat and crow-food to the patrols long before the Carrionplace came into sight. Yellowpaw hadn’t been this close since her first day as an apprentice, when Deerleap had shown her the territory. The heaps of Twoleg rubbish looked even more disgusting in daylight. Bulging black pelts were piled up, some of them with gaping holes that let the foul stuff inside spill out onto the ground. Mixed in with them were unfamiliar things made of wood, soft pelts in strange Twoleg colors, and more sharp-edged objects made of the shiny fence-stuff, all held together by the rotting crow-food. Beyond the fence the mounds stretched into the distance, more and more of them, as far as Yellowpaw could see.
Stonetooth reached the fence and turned to pad alongside it. A few fox-lengths farther on he halted, and Yellowpaw saw that the ground had been scraped away so that there was room for a cat to wriggle underneath.
“I’ll go first,” Cedarstar meowed. “Once inside, we’ll split up. Stonetooth, take your patrol that way”—he flicked his tail—“and we’ll go this way. Let’s see who can catch the most!”
Yellowpaw watched as Cedarstar squeezed his muscular body under the fence and rose to his paws on the far side. Brightflower followed with Rowanpaw close behind. Then Stonetooth began to lead his patrol through. When her turn came, Yellowpaw dived under the fence as quickly as she could, feeling it scrape along her back, then scrambled to her paws with claws extended in case a rat leaped out at her from the mounds.
When all the cats were in place, Stonetooth gathered his patrol around him; a few fox-lengths away Cedarstar was doing the same. Yellowpaw stood beside her mentor, her paws sinking into the soggy debris on the ground.
“Listen carefully,” the deputy meowed. “Especially you, apprentices—and Ashheart, this is your first rat raid, isn’t it?” The gray she-cat nodded, her blue eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Never tackle a rat alone,” the deputy warned. “Work in pairs and do not lose sight of your partner for a single heartbeat. Rats are vicious and cunning, and a rat bite can be very nasty, so do your best not to get bitten, and try to see to it that your partner doesn’t get bitten, either.”
Like he needs to tell us that! Yellowpaw thought.
Her heart began to beat faster, wondering if she would be partnered with Raggedpelt, but Stonetooth put the tabby tom with Nutpaw, and partnered Yellowpaw with Archeye.
“Hollyflower and I will keep watch,” Stonetooth finished. “If any cat is in trouble, we’ll be there to help.”
“Let’s show them!” Nutpaw whispered to Raggedpelt. “Let’s catch the biggest rat in the Carrionplace!”
Not if I can help it! Yellowpaw thought.
She and Archeye padded cautiously alongside the nearest of the heaps. At first everything was quiet and still. A flicker of movement caught Yellowpaw’s eye, but it was only Raggedpelt and Nutpaw slipping between two of the other mounds.
Archeye tapped Yellowpaw’s shoulder with his tail and angled his ears to a spot deeper within the Carrionplace, where a huge yellow Twoleg monster was crouching. “I think it’s asleep,” he murmured.
Yellowpaw nodded. The monsters on the Thunderpath made such a racket that there would be plenty of time to get out of its way if it decided to wake up. Her whiskers twitched with impatience as she padded on. Come on, rats! Show yourselves! She caught a glimpse of a wedge-shaped head poking out of one of the bulging black pelts, but as she turned to face it, it was gone.
“I think I saw one,” she told Archeye softly.
Before she finished speaking, the head appeared again, lower down the mound—or perhaps it was a different rat. Yellowpaw’s belly clenched as she looked at its long nose and quivering whiskers, and the hostility in its bright, birdlike eyes. She began to distinguish sounds, too: rustling and squeaking that came from deep within the mound.
This whole place is alive with rats!
Yellowpaw bounded toward the rat, but it drew its head back into the pile, and her claws sank instead into something wet and squishy inside the black pelt.
Oh, yuck!
Then she spun around at the sound of louder squeaking behind her. A rat was poking its nose out from a gap in the mound; Yellowpaw froze as it ventured farther into the open. Its whiskers twitched as it sniffed the air, and its tiny eyes glittered with malice.
“Get it!” Yellowpaw yowled to Archeye.
She landed on the rat with one huge leap, but slightly mistimed her attack, so that her claws fastened near its tail. The rat let out a high-pitched squeal and twisted around, sharp teeth snapping at Yellowpaw’s neck. Yellowpaw reared back, but refused to loosen her grip.
Before the rat could bite, Archeye flung himself on its shoulders, jaws parted to sink his teeth into its neck. The rat heaved up on its hind paws; Yellowpaw lost her hold as she staggered and fell to one side. Archeye was flung backward, and for a heartbeat the rat was free, diving for the shelter of the rubbish.
“No!” Yellowpaw screeched.
Leaping in pursuit, her paws slipped on slimy debris and she almost fell, but she scrambled after the rat and sank her claws into it again. This time she got a better grip on the back of its neck, and though it struggled it couldn’t shake her off. Archeye joined her, panting, and flung himself across the rat’s scrabbling back legs. As the rat twisted its head, vainly trying to bite Yellowpaw, she slashed her claws across its throat. Blood gushed out and the rat went limp.
Shakily Yellowpaw rose to her paws. “Thank you, StarClan, for this prey,” she mewed. “And thank you that neither of us got bitten.”
“You did well there,” Archeye panted. “I thought we’d lost it for sure.”
Yellowpaw looked down at the dead rat. She hadn’t quite realized until now how massive it was; maybe they had killed the biggest rat in Carrionplace, just like Nutpaw had hoped. “We both did it,” she meowed.
Paw steps sounded behind her, and Yellowpaw spun around, expecting to see another rat. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw it was Poolcloud and Ashheart, each of them carrying a rat.
But they’re not as big as ours! she thought proudly.
The rest of the patrol was gathering. Yellowpaw picked up her rat and went to join them, with Archeye at her side.
“Great StarClan, look at that!” Nutpaw exclaimed, his voice slightly envious. “I didn’t think there could be a rat as big as that.” He and Raggedpelt had caught a rat too, but Yellowpaw noticed that it was quite a lot smaller than hers.
“It’s an amazing catch,” Deerleap agreed; her gaze was warm as it rested on her apprentice. “Are you both okay?”
“Not a scratch on either of us,” Archeye meowed. “And it’s Yellowpaw’s rat, really. I didn’t do much.”
All the cats clustered around Yellowpaw, congratulating her.
“I’d have thought twice about tackling a rat that size,” Stonetooth purred. “You’re showing real warrior skills, Yellowpaw.”
Yellowpaw felt hot with pride and embarrassment. The Clan deputy thinks I did well! “Archeye helped,” she insisted.
Then she noticed that Raggedpelt was hanging back. She felt as though a cloud had passed over the sun. He was the only cat who hadn’t said anything to her; he wasn’t even looking at her.
“What’s going on?” Stonetooth glanced from Yellowpaw to Raggedpelt and back again. “Raggedpelt, it’s ungenerous not to praise Yellowpaw. That’s not how we do things in ShadowClan.”
Raggedpelt looked at his paws. “Yeah, great catch, Yellowpaw,” he muttered.
Stonetooth’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more to Raggedpelt. “It’s time we went back to camp,” he announced. “We’ve caught as much prey as we can carry. Let’s see if we can get there before Cedarstar’s patrol.”
Picking up her rat by its scruff, Yellow
paw set off full of pride, but before she had gone many paw steps she began to wonder if she could make it back to camp. The rat weighed more than any piece of prey she had carried before. Soon she was staggering with fatigue, her neck aching, but the sense of achievement buzzed through her like a whole colony of bees, and kept her going.
When she entered the camp she was aware of comments from the cats who had stayed behind, padding up to look as she and the rest of the patrol dropped their prey on the fresh-kill pile. For the first time she realized that Cedarstar’s patrol had followed them in; the Clan leader examined her rat, then turned to her, his eyes shining with approval.
“Yellowpaw,” he mewed, “you’re turning into an excellent ShadowClan warrior.”
“Th-thank you!” Yellowpaw stammered.
The Clan leader dipped his head to her and padded off to his den. Yellowpaw followed him with her gaze. I can’t believe the Clan leader said that to me!
Then she noticed that Sagewhisker was standing a couple of fox-lengths away. She was looking thoughtful. Yellowpaw wondered what was on her mind, but after a moment the medicine cat turned away without speaking.
Thank StarClan! Yellowpaw thought. She had been avoiding the medicine cat ever since Silverflame died; she still felt that Sagewhisker could have done more to help the sick elder. And the depth of Sagewhisker’s gaze made her feel uncomfortable.
“Yellowpaw!” Her mother’s voice distracted Yellowpaw from thinking about the medicine cat. “Stonetooth says you made a great catch.”
Yellowpaw ducked her head. “That’s my rat,” she mewed, pointing to it with her tail.
Brackenfoot dropped his own prey onto the pile. Yellowpaw noticed that her father’s rat was almost as big as hers, but not quite.
“Keep going like this, and you’ll be the best hunter in ShadowClan,” he praised her, his eyes warm.
Brightflower gave her a lick around the ears. “You’ve made us so proud.”