by Erin Hunter
“He wasn’t there, just my luck,” Pinestar went on. “Then I heard the Twoleg coming, so I jumped on that ledge and pretended to be another kittypet so she didn’t get suspicious. It was hard work, I can tell you!”
Lionpaw nodded. His leader was so brave and clever! Lionpaw would never have thought of pretending to be a kittypet!
“You won’t say anything to the others, will you?” Pinestar checked. “I don’t want any other warriors trying this. It’s far too dangerous.”
Lionpaw shook his head. “Oh, no. I won’t say a word,” he promised. His tail bristled with excitement. Pinestar must trust him as much as a warrior! Maybe his name would be Liontrust, or Lionloyal, because of the great secret they shared.
“I knew it!” Sunfall hissed. Keeping low so that his orange pelt was hidden by ferns, he looked back at Lionpaw. “Go back to the camp and tell Pinestar we’re being invaded! Those RiverClan warriors have deliberately crossed the border. We can’t let them get away with it. Pinestar needs to send a fighting patrol here at once.”
Lionpaw nodded and whipped around. He squeezed past Bluefur and Tawnyspots and pelted back along the trail that led to the ravine. He jumped down the rocks in one giant leap and burst through the tunnel. “RiverClan is attacking us!” he yowled.
Several heads appeared around the clearing. “Where’s Pinestar?” Lionpaw panted. “He needs to send a warrior patrol.”
“I thought he was with you,” meowed Thrushpelt. “I’ll take the patrol to Sunningrocks; you go find Pinestar and tell him what’s going on.”
Lionpaw spun around and raced out of the camp. He could guess where Pinestar was: defending their territory against that pesky kittypet! Well, he’d have to focus on RiverClan right now, before those fish-faces took over all of ThunderClan. Lionpaw ran through the pine trees and threw himself at the wooden fence. He slithered down the other side, unable to stop on the top, and landed in a heap among the flowers. Shaking earth off his fur, he looked out.
Pinestar was standing on the white stone, eating a pile of brown pellets. The Twoleg was standing over him, showing its teeth and making soft, friendly noises. Pinestar swiped his tongue around his jaws and looked up at the Twoleg, curling his body around its hind legs. “That was delicious!” he meowed. “Is there any more?”
“Pinestar! What are you doing?”
The ThunderClan leader froze and looked straight at Lionpaw. A flash of horror appeared in his eyes; then he ran across the lawn. “You shouldn’t be here!” he hissed. “What if that kittypet comes back?”
“RiverClan is invading!” Lionpaw told him. “You have to come!”
Pinestar looked down at his paws. “I can’t.”
“Why not? Did the kittypet hurt you?” Lionpaw peered at him but couldn’t see any blood.
“There is no other kittypet,” Pinestar mumbled. “Only me.”
Lionpaw shook his head, confused. “You’re just pretending to be a kittypet. So the Twoleg doesn’t chase you away.”
Pinestar glanced over his shoulder. The Twoleg was standing on the stone watching them. “She won’t chase me away,” he mewed. “She likes me.”
Lionpaw stared at him in disbelief. “But you’re our Clan leader! You can’t be friends with Twolegs!”
“Then I can’t be your leader anymore,” Pinestar whispered. “I’m sorry, Lionpaw. I can’t keep the Clan safe. I’m too old, too scared of losing any more battles. Sunfall will make a better leader than me. Tell ThunderClan that I am dead.”
Lionpaw felt a surge of anger. “No! I will not lie for you! You might not want to be our leader anymore, but you could at least be brave enough to tell the Clan yourself. They deserve to know the truth, that you are leaving to become a kittypet.”
He whirled around and scrabbled back over the fence. He heard Pinestar following, and the Twoleg call out in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll come back, I promise!” Pinestar meowed from the top of the fence, before jumping down after Lionpaw.
They ran back through the forest. With a jolt, Lionpaw wondered what had happened by Sunningrocks. Had Thrushpelt’s patrol been enough to drive out the RiverClan invaders? Would Pinestar be forced to fight for his Clan one last time?They reached the ravine and jumped down. The gorse tunnel was trembling as if several cats had just burst through it. The clearing was crowded with warriors and apprentices circling, some of them bleeding from scratches, others limping. Featherwhisker, the apprentice medicine cat, was chasing Rosepaw around with a mouthful of marigold leaves.
“If you just keep still long enough for me to put these on your cut,” the medicine cat puffed, his voice muffled through the herbs, “I’ll be able to treat the other cats.”
“Treat them first!” Rosepaw protested. “That stuff stings!”
The cats fell silent one by one as they spotted Pinestar. When they were all quiet, Sunfall stepped out, bleeding from a torn ear.
“Where were you, Pinestar?” he asked.
Pinestar didn’t answer at once. “Did you win?”
Sunfall nodded. “We chased those fish-faces back as far as the river. They still have Sunningrocks—that is a battle for another day—but they won’t set foot across the border for a while.”
“Good,” Pinestar meowed. He padded across the clearing and jumped onto Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather to hear what I have to tell you!” he yowled.
Most of the Clan were in the clearing already, but they turned to face Highrock and settled down. Lionpaw joined Rosepaw and Bluefur, who was licking one of her claws. “I nearly tore it out on a RiverClan warrior!” she whispered proudly.
Lionpaw looked up at Pinestar. It felt so strange, knowing what he was going to say. The blood roared in his ears, and he didn’t hear the start of the Clan leader’s announcement, just the gasps of shock around him. Sunfall said something; then Pinestar spoke again.
“I have been honored to serve you for eight of my lives. My ninth will be spent as a kittypet, where I have no battles to fight, no lives depending on me for food and safety. Sunfall will lead you well, and StarClan will understand.”
“The other Clans might not,” Sunfall warned. “You won’t be able to come back to the forest, you know.”
Pinestar let out an amused huff. “Oh, I can imagine the names they’ll call me. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the leaders suggests an addition to the warrior code, that all true warriors scorn the easy life of a kittypet. But you’ll make ThunderClan as strong as it ever was, Sunfall. My last act as leader is to entrust my Clan to you, and I do it confidently.”
Sunfall dipped his head. “I am honored, Pinestar. I promise I will do my best.”
Pinestar jumped down from Highrock and wove among his Clanmates for the last time.
A sleek black she-cat stepped forward. “Pinestar, what about our kits? Won’t you stay to watch them grow up?” She nodded to the three tiny cats beside her. Two were weak and sickly-looking, slumped on the ground with glazed eyes, but the third, Tigerkit, was a sturdy dark brown tabby, who pounced on his father’s tail. Pinestar gently pulled it away.
“They’ll be fine with you, Leopardfoot. I’m not a father they could be proud of, but I will always be proud of them. Especially you, little warrior,” he added, bending down to touch his muzzle to the dark tabby’s ears. Tigerkit gazed up at him with huge amber eyes and growled, showing thorn-sharp teeth.
“Be strong, my precious son,” Pinestar murmured. “Serve your Clan well.”
He straightened up and continued across the clearing. He paused once more beside Lionpaw. “Thank you,” he meowed. “You were right. I had to tell my Clan myself. You have a good spirit, young one. When it is time for you to receive your warrior name, tell Sunfall I would have called you Lionheart.”
He nodded, then padded softly into the gorse tunnel and disappeared. Lionpaw watched until the gorse stopped shaking.
May StarClan walk your path, always, he murmured to the old leader. And may I be worthy of my
warrior name.
Lionheart.
A Change of Heart: Sandstorm Speaks
If Fireheart was just a kittypet, would he have gone to Tallstar behind Bluestar’s back and arranged to stop the battle before it began? Would he have risked Bluestar’s trust because he believed what he was doing was best for the Clan? Would so many of his Clanmates have supported him, even Whitestorm and Goldenflower?
Dustpelt tells me over and over that Fireheart can never be a true Clan warrior because he wasn’t born in the forest. He belonged to Twolegs, who fed him that muck that looks like rabbit droppings, and made him wear a collar! He was such a show-off when he first came to ThunderClan. He always had to be best in training, or catch the most prey, and be the most solemn when we went to Gatherings. Dustpelt and I could never figure out why Graystripe was friends with him; he didn’t seem to know what fun was.
And he was always causing trouble! Like taking Ravenpaw away—Fireheart said he didn’t know what happened when Ravenpaw vanished, but I saw them sneaking out of the camp. He always seemed to be doing something to annoy Tigerclaw. But now it looks as if he was right, and Tigerclaw was our biggest enemy all along. Would a kittypet have been able to figure that out? Not even Bluestar realized until Tigerclaw tried to kill her.
Maybe it’s because Fireheart was a kittypet. He doesn’t just accept the warrior code; he thinks about it and figures out how it’s supposed to work. And when it doesn’t, like when he should have obeyed his leader who ordered him to attack WindClan, he challenges it and does something different. Is that a weakness in Clan cats, that we do what we’re told just because that’s what our ancestors did?
Dustpelt insists that Fireheart doesn’t belong in ThunderClan because the code says we have to reject kittypets. But we have to reject their life, not the cats themselves. And Fireheart has done that, hasn’t he? He started out as a kittypet and chose to leave it all behind to join ThunderClan.
If I had to choose between Dustpelt and Fireheart to lead the Clan, who would I pick? Dustpelt is so loyal to the warrior code, he’d never dream of breaking it. The other Clans would respect him for that, which might make them more peaceful toward us. Fireheart would argue with any cat, in ThunderClan or outside, if he didn’t think they were doing the right thing. I don’t want to live in a Clan that is always at war.
But Fireheart won’t fight a battle that he doesn’t believe in. That’s why he talked to Tallstar, persuaded him not to let his warriors fight when Bluestar led the attack on his border. Which means Tallstar must respect Fireheart and trust him, because he’s always been friendly with Bluestar before now.
Maybe a kittypet can know us better than we know ourselves. Maybe it takes an outsider looking in to see the truth—like Fireheart knew the truth about Tigerclaw. I wonder if he’ll ever see the truth in my own heart: that, whatever Dustpelt says, however much Fireheart breaks the warrior code, I love him more than I could imagine loving any other cat.
And if Fireheart knew, would he love me, too?
Rules That Did Not Become Part of the Code: Leafpool Speaks
Not every rule that was suggested was accepted by all the Clans—and it was always understood, without having to be made part of the code, that every Clan had to agree.
Did you know it was once suggested that only cats of pure forest blood could be Clan members? Kittypets, rogues, and loners would be barred from Clan life—and those already living in the Clans would be expected to leave. I can tell you assume it was a ShadowClan leader that put this forward, but actually it was Featherstar of WindClan. After a hard leaf-bare, when only the swiftest warriors could catch any of the fleet-footed prey on the moor, she blamed her Clan’s hunger on those cats who hadn’t been born with the ability to run rabbit-fast. She saw the other Clans struggling to catch enough fresh-kill and was convinced that only Clanborn cats could look after themselves and their Clanmates.
Owlstar of ThunderClan argued most strongly against her—it was rumored afterward that he had kittypets among his ancestors, but he didn’t. He just saw that all the Clans would be weakened if they had to purge their members of non-forestborn cats. Loyalty to Clanmates has always lain at the core of the warrior code, and what Featherstar was proposing would let Clanmates turn on one another and claim superiority for something they had no control over. As long as cats were loyal to their Clan, Owlstar insisted, then they deserved to stay.
Not long after that, Hawkstar’s successor, Robinstar, put forward that Clans should eat only the prey they were most suited to hunting: fish for RiverClan, birds for SkyClan, rabbits for WindClan, and so on. This was shouted down by all the Clans. It was unlikely that all the birds in SkyClan’s hunting grounds would ever get sick and die, even during the coldest leaf-bare, but fish, rabbits, and ThunderClan’s squirrels had all been known to suffer from an illness that either spread to cats or reduced the numbers of prey drastically. Besides, every Clan welcomes a chance to taste a different kind of fresh-kill when it strays into their territory—though RiverClan are welcome to keep all their slimy fish!
It was Dovestar of RiverClan who wanted to make it law that every Clan cat had to acknowledge that StarClan controlled Clan life; to deny the existence and power of the warrior ancestors would be to break the code. Does it surprise you that this is not one of our laws?
Being a Clan cat is not about being forced to believe something. We are allowed to think for ourselves, you know! It is not law that you have to stay in a Clan—cats may leave any time they wish if they no longer feel true to the warrior code or loyal to their Clanmates. As long as we believe in StarClan and the influence it has over our lives, accepting the warrior code is easy and loyalty comes as natural as breathing. You cannot force a cat to be faithful. That would be far worse than letting them be honest enough to choose a different path through life.
Epilogue
You’ve now heard the history of the warrior code. Stretch your legs; you’ve been sitting a long time. I’ll walk with you to the edge of our territory. I could use some fresh air.
Thank you for listening. Perhaps you understand our way of life a little better now. As you’ve heard, we’re not always perfect, but we have a great deal of faith in our warrior ancestors. The code lives in us in our heartbeat, the blood pulsing beneath our fur. When we die, the code carries on in our kits, and their kits, for all the moons to come. StarClan willing, the code of the Clans will live forever, until the forest and the lake have turned to dust and our hunting grounds are no more.
TURN THE PAGE FOR A SNEAK PEEK AT ERIN HUNTER’S BRAND-NEW SERIES!
Lucky is a golden-haired mutt with a nose for survival. Other dogs have Packs, but Lucky stands on his own … until the Big Growl strikes. Suddenly, the ground splits wide-open. The longpaws disappear. And enemies threaten Lucky at every turn. For the first time in his life, Lucky needs to rely on other dogs to survive. But can he ever be a true Pack dog?
THE TIME HAS COME
FOR DOGS TO RULE THE WILD.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
PROLOGUE
Yap wriggled, yawning, and gave a small excited whimper. His littermates were a jumble of warmth against him, all paws and muzzles and small fast heartbeats. Clambering over him, Squeak stuck a paw in his eye; Yap shook his head and rolled over, making her fall off. She squeaked with indignation as always, so he licked her nose to show there were no hard feelings.
The Mother-Dog stood over them, nuzzling them into order and licking their faces clean, treading her ritual circle before curling around them, ready for sleep.
“Wake up, Yap! Mother’s going to tell us a story.” That was Squeak again, bossy and demanding as ever. Their Mother-Dog washed her affectionately with her tongue, muffling her yelps.
“Would you like to hear about the Storm of Dogs?”
A thrill of excitement ran down Yap’s spine, and he whimpered eagerly. “Yes!”
But the others tumbled over her, drowning her protests. “Yes, Mother! The Storm of Dogs!”
The Mother-Dog settled around their small bodies, her tail thumping. Her voice grew low and solemn. “This is the story of Lightning, the swiftest of the dog warriors. The Sky-Dogs watched over him, and protected him. ... But the Earth-Dog was jealous of Lightning. She thought Lightning had lived too long, and that it was time for him to die so that she could take his life force. But Lightning’s speed was so great that he could outrun the Earth-Dog’s terrible Growls—he could outrun death itself!”
“I want to be like Lightning,” murmured Yowl sleepily. “I could run that fast; I bet I could.”
“Shush!” said Squeak, squashing his nose with a golden-furred paw. In spite of her protest, Yap knew that she was caught up in the story like the rest of them.
“Then came the first great battle,” the Mother-Dog went on, her voice hushed. “The terrible Storm of Dogs, when all the dogs of the world fought to see who would rule over the territories of the world. Many stories are told of those terrible days, and many heroes were made and lost in the battle.
“At last, the Earth-Dog thought, Lightning’s life force would be freed and she would take his body, as was her right. But Lightning was cunning, and he was sure that with his speed he could dodge his death once more, so the Earth-Dog laid a trap for him.”
Yip’s ears flattened against her head. “That’s so mean!”
Their mother nuzzled her. “No, it isn’t, Yip. Earth-Dog was right to claim Lightning. That’s the way things should be. When your Sire-Dog died, his body fed the earth too.”
Suddenly solemn, all of the pups listened in silence.