by Erin Hunter
“Come on, flea-pelt!” Rockshade dared the dog. “See if you can catch us!”
The Twoleg—still invisible inside the den—barked out what sounded like a command. The dog leaped over the thorn barrier and hurtled across the garden toward the three warriors.
Run! Now! Leafstar willed them silently.
To her horror, all three cats stayed still, hissing a challenge, until the dog was almost on them. Then they whipped around and raced through the broken-down fence toward the edge of the forest, with the dog hard on their paws.
StarClan, keep them safe! Leafstar prayed, losing sight of them as they led the dog deeper into the brambles.
When the dog had vanished, the remaining SkyClan warriors started yowling again. A heavy, shuffling movement in the doorway caught Leafstar’s attention and she narrowed her eyes with cold anger as the old Twoleg who had tormented Petalnose and her kits loomed into view. Gathering his ragged pelts around him, the Twoleg let out an irritable snarl and stepped forward, right into the barrier of thorns. With a screech he toppled over as the branches snagged on his hind feet and sprawled forward onto his face. His hind paws got more and more tangled in the brambles while he flailed around with his forepaws, trying to get up.
When he managed to struggle upright, he held a branch clutched in one forepaw. Leafstar flinched from his anger and fear-scent as he glared around the clearing. Sparrowpelt slipped out from the shelter of a bush; the Twoleg staggered forward, swiping at him with the branch. Sparrowpelt dodged easily to one side. Then more cats began to appear from their hiding places, racing over the grass with their ears flattened and their lips curled to show pointed teeth.
Not too close! Careful!
Petalnose, Mintpaw, and Sagepaw stood directly in front of the Twoleg with their backs arched, hissing. Leafstar doubted the Twoleg would recognize them as the half-starved she-cat and her terrified kits who’d escaped from him two seasons ago. Petalnose spat vengeance and fury, and the apprentices beside her looked ready to tear the throats from a whole pack of foxes. Behind them, Waspwhisker ripped at the grass with his claws, his lips drawn back in a snarl. Stick and Coal stood close together; Leafstar could see the uncertainty in their eyes, and guessed that it wouldn’t take much for them to turn tail and flee back to the safety of the trees. Cherrytail and Tinycloud advanced side by side, hissing out their hatred as the Twoleg swung the branch at them.
With a growl from deep in her throat, Petalnose took one step forward. The Twoleg paused with the branch held high in the air and looked at her. Petalnose didn’t blink. Instead, she took another step forward, this time lowering her front paws slowly so that the Twoleg could clearly see her long claws. A strange noise came from the Twoleg, a bit like a cough. He let the branch fall onto the ground beside him.
Leafstar sought out Sharpclaw, and spotted him in the shadow of the nest, close to the wall. She curled her tail as a signal. We must end this now, before some cat gets hurt.
Sharpclaw stalked out into the open and Leafstar joined him at the center of the ragged semicircle of cats. They had all fallen silent, their gaze fixed on the Twoleg, challenging him to raise the branch again.
“Leave us alone!” Leafstar yowled. She knew that the Twoleg wouldn’t understand, but she spoke the words so that her own Clan could hear them, and hoped that her tone would be enough to warn the Twoleg. “Lay one paw on another cat and we’ll do more than show you our claws.”
The old Twoleg was letting out high-pitched whimpering sounds now. His hind legs had started to shake and one of his back paws twitched, knocking the branch into the heap of brambles. His fear-scent was rank as a fox. For a couple of heartbeats Leafstar felt sorry for him. Then she looked at Petalnose and her kits and remembered how weak and ill they had been, how close to death, when Firestar had led the patrol that released them from the Twoleg’s prison. And she remembered Shrewtooth’s horror when he found himself back in the Twoleg’s clearing.
The Twoleg deserves to feel as scared as these cats have been.
Leafstar waved her tail to tell her Clanmates that the attack was over. Moving as one, they spun around and raced off into the trees. A glance over her shoulder showed the old Twoleg stumbling back inside his den. The slam of the door echoed into the night.
Pride surged through Leafstar as she led her Clan back through the forest. They had just crossed the border when she heard panting and yelping coming from just ahead, and froze as the dog burst out from a clump of hazel saplings. Sharpclaw shouldered his way to her side, his claws extended.
But the dog paid no attention to any cat, not even pausing to give them a sniff. With its tail between its legs, it fled back toward the Twoleg nest. Dark spots of blood dripped from its nose and spattered over the ground.
Yes! Leafstar thought as she started walking again, through moonlight that was sliced by the shadows of trees.
SkyClan has won!
CHAPTER 22
Leafstar and the rest of the cats caught up to Cora, Bouncefire, and Rockshade near the top of the cliff, so the whole patrol raced across the Rockpile hard on her paws and poured down into the camp.
“You’re back!” Patchfoot appeared out of the shadows near the fresh-kill pile, the white patches on his pelt shining pale in the half-light. “What happened?”
“Is any cat hurt?” Echosong called, bounding up from the direction of her den.
It was Sharpclaw who replied. “No, we’re all fine. And we gave that crow-food-eating Twoleg a fright he won’t forget in a hurry.”
“That’s great!” Patchfoot exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. “You’re all heroes!”
“What about the dog?” Shrewtooth mewed, peering out from behind Patchfoot.
“I doubt the dog will bother us again,” Leafstar told him. “We taught it a lesson, too.”
“I clawed its nose,” Bouncefire announced, pressing forward to give Shrewtooth a friendly nudge. “I wish you’d been there to see it.”
Shrewtooth blinked. “I do, too.”
“You shouldn’t have been near enough to claw it!” Clovertail scolded as she padded up with Fallowfern and the kits. But her eyes glowed with pride as she gazed at her son, and she touched his shoulder approvingly with her tail.
“I can’t believe we did it!” Cherrytail panted. “We took on a Twoleg and we beat him!”
“If we can do that, we can do anything!” Sparrowpelt purred.
The cats crowded around the fresh-kill pile to choose a piece of prey while their Clanmates who had stayed behind hailed them with questions. Fallowfern’s kits bounced around gleefully, even though it was the middle of the night, getting under every cat’s paws as they tried to act out what they imagined had gone on. As she waited to choose her own prey, Leafstar noticed that the four newest warriors had withdrawn a few tail-lengths, and were murmuring to one another with their heads close together. Her paws pricked with uneasiness. Why don’t they want to celebrate with us? It’s their victory as much as any cat’s.
Trying to shrug off her nagging anxiety, Leafstar picked out a plump vole for herself. Seeing that her Clanmates were settling down while Sharpclaw began to tell the full story of the attack, she carried her fresh-kill up the trail and sprang over the gap to reach the Skyrock.
The moon was close to setting but the stars of Silverpelt still shone brightly in an indigo sky. A soft breeze, laden with the scents of newleaf, whispered over the surface of the rock. Down below, the river was a silver snake winding among the rocks; Leafstar could just make out the dark huddle of cats at the foot of the Rockpile. She wondered if the spirits of her ancestors were looking down on them. I hope they are. She was proud of her warriors, the way they had carried out the plan to scare the Twoleg without putting themselves in danger, the courage they had shown in seeking vengeance on behalf of Shrewtooth and Petalnose. For once, Leafstar hadn’t been in doubt that SkyClan was following the right path. But now the attack was over; the Twoleg had been given a fright that would hopefully keep him from to
rturing more cats in the future; and Leafstar felt herself staring into darkness once more.
She stopped eating with the vole half finished and padded to the very edge of the rock to lay it down. “An offering for the cats who walk the skies,” she whispered. Perhaps I should do this more often, she thought. Maybe our ancestors won’t come down to share our fresh-kill, but at least they’ll be able to see that they are not forgotten. We still hunt in their memory, surviving by their skills.
Almost as if she had summoned it, she caught a whiff of cat scent and heard the soft pad of paws approaching her from behind. She turned to see Skywatcher stepping lightly through the air toward her, his pelt pure silver and his eyes shining like pools of starlight.
“Welcome,” Leafstar murmured, dipping her head.
Skywatcher padded past her to sniff at the prey she had left at the edge of the rock. “A fine, plump creature,” he commented, though he didn’t eat.
“Skywatcher,” Leafstar began hesitantly, “did you and … and the other warriors of StarClan see our attack on the Twoleg?”
Skywatcher’s reply was a brief nod; Leafstar was disappointed when he didn’t tell her what his Clanmates had thought of it. “We planned what we needed to do, and we did it,” she meowed, feeling that she had to justify herself to the starry warrior. “Every cat was so brave! And the Twoleg deserved to be frightened. You know what he did to Petalnose and her kits, and to Shrewtooth.”
“You certainly won that battle,” Skywatcher grunted. “The Twoleg is good and scared, I’ll give you that.”
Leafstar flicked her tail, frustrated. “Did we do the right thing?” she blurted out.
Skywatcher gave her a long look from fathomless green eyes. “Only time will tell,” he mewed at last. “Twolegs aren’t the usual sort of enemies for a Clan. They don’t steal prey or threaten borders like other cats, and they don’t kill kits like foxes or badgers.”
“Then have I broken the warrior code?” Leafstar whispered in dismay. “Was I wrong to take a battle to a Twoleg nest?”
To her relief, Skywatcher shook his head, scattering starlight around them. “You are the leader of SkyClan,” he pointed out. “You must have confidence in what you do. If the Twoleg was a threat to your Clan, then you were right to attack.”
He certainly was a threat, but still… “I just want to know what the other Clans would have done,” she confessed.
“But you are not the other Clans.” The silver glow in Skywatcher’s fur blazed out strongly and then began to fade. “You must find your own path.”
His outline grew fainter, until it was no more than a glitter of stardust against the rock, and then was gone.
Leafstar remained staring at the place where he had stood. She still felt troubled. How could she find a path for SkyClan when there were no obvious choices to take? I hope I made the right decisions tonight. I wish I could be sure…
When Leafstar returned to the gorge, the Clan was still feasting and sharing tongues around the bottom of the Rockpile. She was relieved to see that the four newcomers had joined the others and were sharing prey.
Sharpclaw padded over to meet her at the foot of the trail. “We did well tonight,” he remarked, twitching his whiskers in satisfaction. “The Clan feels strong and united.”
“That’s true,” Leafstar murmured.
“The attack on the Twoleg has brought us all together,” her deputy went on. “You see, we don’t really need the kitty-warriors at all.”
Leafstar gazed at him, her mouth open in shock. Does he resent the daylight-warriors so much? She and Sharpclaw had worked well together during the attack, reinforcing each other’s leadership, reading silent signals to keep their Clanmates safe and focused. But now the old divisions were reappearing. Unable to find a reply, Leafstar turned her back on her deputy and stalked off to her den.
The sound of cheerful yowling outside woke Leafstar the next morning. Yawning, she scrambled out of her nest, wincing at the stiffness in her muscles from the trek through the forest and the attack. She felt as though she hadn’t slept for more than a couple of heartbeats, but when she padded to the entrance of her den she saw that the sun had risen above the gorge; warm light slanted over the rocks and glittered on the surface of the river.
Five cats were tumbling over the rim of the gorge and racing down the trail, calling out greetings as they came. Seeing Leafstar, Billystorm halted and waved his tail. “We’re here! We’re ready for the attack!”
Leafstar felt her heart drop down into her paws. What am I going to tell them? She began to make her way across the cliff face toward Billystorm and the others, setting her paws down carefully on the narrow trail. But before she reached them, Cherrytail popped her head out of the warriors’ den, a few tail-lengths below where the daylight-warriors had halted.
“You’re too late!” the tortoiseshell she-cat announced. “We attacked last night, and it went really well!”
Leafstar flinched. If I’d had the chance, I would have been a bit more tactful than that!
“What?” Ebonyclaw arched her back and let out a hiss of annoyance. “You went without us?”
The usually gentle Frecklepaw flicked her tail, looking as angry as her mentor.
Harveymoon and Macgyver glanced at each other with indignation in their eyes. “Hey, I was looking forward to that!” Harveymoon exclaimed.
“Yeah, I made my Twolegs give me more food, just so I’d be ready,” Macgyver agreed.
“I’m sorry,” Leafstar meowed as she reached Billystorm’s side. “Come down by the river, where I can explain properly.”
More cats were emerging from their dens as Leafstar led the way down into the gorge and found a sun-warmed stone near the water’s edge where she could sit and talk to the daylight-warriors. She was aware of their hostile looks and bristling fur as they gathered around her. She was grateful to see Sharpclaw padding up to join her, though less so when Cherrytail, Sparrowpelt, and Waspwhisker bounded after him and sat down on the edge of the group.
We’ve got the makings of a serious split in the Clan here, unless I’m careful.
“I can’t believe you didn’t wait for us!” Ebonyclaw burst out, before Leafstar had the chance to speak. “We planned it all so carefully.”
“Yeah, why did you leave us out?” Harveymoon demanded.
“I’m sorry,” Leafstar began. She sympathized too much with the kittypets to be able to justify herself convincingly. “We needed a clear night for the attack, and after the clouds disappeared—”
“That’s right,” Sharpclaw chipped in. “We couldn’t be sure when we would get another chance.”
Billystorm glanced up at the cloudless blue sky and flicked his ears, though he said nothing. Embarrassment flooded through Leafstar, making her pelt itch. She could see that tonight promised to be just as clear as the night before; they could easily have waited for the kittypets. But we didn’t know that.
“You know, you kittypets want to have it both ways,” Sparrowpelt meowed, stepping forward with his head thrust out aggressively. “You spend time here in the Clan, but then you shove off to your Twoleg nests for strokes and soft beds.”
“It shouldn’t be like that,” Cherrytail agreed. “When Firestar was here, he told us we had to choose, and that’s what we did.”
“But Firestar isn’t here anymore,” Harveymoon pointed out, swinging his head around to glare at Sparrowpelt and his sister.
“The warrior code hasn’t changed,” Sparrowpelt countered. “You have to be proper Clan cats if you want to be included in everything.”
Ebonyclaw jumped to her paws. “Are you saying that we’re not proper Clan cats?” she demanded, her tail lashing.
“You tell me,” Sparrowpelt growled. “Do proper Clan cats eat Twoleg food? Do they purr around Twolegs and beg to be stroked?”
Leafstar’s belly churned as the quarrel she had dreaded erupted; more of the Clan cats were clustering around now, and there were more glares aimed at the dayligh
t-warriors.
“This isn’t right,” Billystorm meowed. He was calmer than the rest, but there was a bitter edge in his voice. “We train and hunt with you, but when there’s anything important going on, you don’t want us. You left us out of the rat attack, and now this.”
“And we managed fine without you, thanks,” Cherrytail flashed back at him.
Before Leafstar could say anything, Sharpclaw shouldered his way between the hostile cats.
“That’s enough,” he growled. “The attack happened, it’s over, and that’s the end of it. Next time we plan something,” he added, “you kittypets might make more effort to be here.”
Sparrowpelt blinked in satisfaction, but Leafstar was appalled by the unfairness of Sharpclaw’s comment. He almost seemed to be deliberately setting the gorge-based cats against the daylight-warriors.
He wouldn’t try to make the full Clan cats drive them out, would he? That would split the Clan forever!
“We’re sorry it happened like this,” Leafstar repeated, rising to her paws. “We made what we thought was the right decision at the time. Now let’s put it behind us.”
As she spoke, she spotted Sharpclaw glaring at her, as if by apologizing she was showing signs of weakness. My Clan, my decisions, she told herself.
“It’s past time to set the patrols,” she reminded Sharpclaw tartly. “Or are we going to sit around in the gorge all day?”
The cats were still grumbling as the deputy sorted them into patrols, and Leafstar guessed it would be a long time before their ruffled feelings were forgotten. At least Sharpclaw had the sense to include all the kittypets in the first set of patrols, though he didn’t ask any of them to lead.
“Petalnose, you and Waspwhisker can take your apprentices and give them some hunting training,” he ordered. “Ebonyclaw and Frecklepaw, go with them. Billystorm, you too. No sign yet of Snookpaw?” he asked after a moment’s pause.