Thunder and Shadow

by Erin Hunter

  She could still hardly believe that Ivypool had suggested they search for her mother. At the Gathering last night, Twigpaw had barely heard the Clans bickering. She was tired of their dumb arguments. All any cat seemed to care about was prophecies and rogues. No one cared that her mother might be out there somewhere, searching for her lost kits.

  And then, on the trek back from the island, Ivypool had asked her what was worrying her. “Your mind hasn’t been on your training for a half-moon,” she’d mewed softly.

  Twigpaw had hesitated about confiding in her. Would her mentor think it was selfish to still be worrying about her mother after the Clan had done so much for her? But Ivypool had understood.

  “Every cat needs kin,” Ivypool had said. “One day I hope the Clan will feel like your kin. But if you need to find out about your mother, I’ll help you.” The silver-and-white she-cat had suggested they set out first thing in the morning. Bramblestar had agreed reluctantly, after Ivypool had promised they’d be careful.

  Now, as she waited to leave, she listened to Squirrelflight giving orders below the Highledge. “Check for rogue scent near the ShadowClan border.” She nodded to Cloudtail and Thornclaw. “Poppyfrost and Berrynose can go with you.”

  “Can I go too?” Fernsong blinked at her eagerly. “I haven’t been on a border patrol for days.”

  Squirrelflight shook her head. “I want you to travel with Ivypool and Twigpaw. Will you go?”

  “On their mission to find Twigpaw’s mother?” Fernsong glanced across the clearing at Twigpaw, his eyes sparkling. “Of course!”

  Twigpaw felt a surge of happiness. Fernsong was coming with them! This was turning into a real Clan mission. Just like the one Bramblestar should have sent in the first place.

  Squirrelflight frowned. “It’s a long journey,” she warned Fernsong. “I want everyone back safely.”

  Cloudtail flicked his tail. “Is there any point in traveling so far? Surely there’ll be no trace of Twigpaw’s mother now. It’s been so long.”

  Ivypool padded from the medicine den as he spoke. She glared at the white warrior. “Twigpaw has hope. It’s a risk, but what if she’s right? We have to look.”

  Poppyfrost tipped her head thoughtfully. “But if Squirrelflight’s search party didn’t find her, how do you hope to?”

  Ivypool fluffed out her fur. The hollow was chilly where the sun hadn’t yet reached it. “Twigpaw might notice something Squirrelflight’s party didn’t.”

  Twigpaw felt a surge of gratitude toward her mentor. She was glad there was one cat in the Clan who believed in her. She scowled at the medicine den. She still resented Alderpaw for his part in lying about the quest to find her mother.

  The brambles at the entrance twitched. Alderpaw padded out, a bundle of herbs in his jaws. He crossed the clearing and dropped them in front of Twigpaw. “Jayfeather says you and Ivypool have to eat all of them.” He separated the pile into two.

  “Fernsong’s coming with us,” Twigpaw told him. “He’ll need herbs too.”

  “Fernsong?” Ivypool joined them, surprise lighting her eyes. “I thought we were going alone.”

  “Squirrelflight just asked him,” Twigpaw told her happily. “You don’t mind, do you? It’ll be like a real mission.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” Ivypool glanced warmly at Fernsong as he headed toward them.

  Alderpaw frowned. “It’ll be dangerous.”

  Twigpaw sniffed. “You made the journey when you were younger than me.”

  “Yes.” Alderpaw looked thoughtful. Then his gaze brightened. “I should come with you!”

  Twigpaw stared at him. “Why? You think my mother’s dead.” Did he just want to come so he could say I told you so? Or did he want to justify stealing her from her nest before her mother could return? She pushed the thoughts away. Alderpaw wouldn’t do that.

  “I know where the nest was.” As he gazed hopefully at Ivypool, hope trembled along Twigpaw’s spine. He was right! He could lead them straight to it. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

  Ivypool blinked at him. “It would be great to have you show us the way.”

  Fernsong stopped beside her. “When are we leaving?”

  “As soon as you and Alderpaw have gotten some traveling herbs from Jayfeather,” Ivypool told him. “We’ll have to make sure he’s all right with Alderpaw joining us, too.”

  “Alderpaw’s coming too?” Fernsong purred. “Great!” He headed for the medicine den, Alderpaw on his heels.

  Ivypool caught Twigpaw’s eye. Her gaze was somber. Unease pricked Twigpaw’s belly. “You know we may not find anything, right?” Ivypool warned.

  Twigpaw swallowed. “Yes.” But at least I’ll know I tried, she thought. I’ll know somebody tried. She reached down and lapped up the leaves, wrinkling her nose as their bitterness shriveled her tongue.

  Ivypool shuddered and licked her lips, finishing her pile. “Well, we’ll have plenty of energy.”

  Fernsong and Alderpaw hurried from the nursery. Alderpaw looked pleased. “Jayfeather says it’s all right for me to go.”

  Fernsong’s pelt was prickling. “Traveling herbs are the worst!” He stuck out his tongue.

  Ivypool purred and nudged him toward the entrance. “Hopefully they’ll give you enough strength to protect us. That is why you’re coming, isn’t it?” There was a tease in her mew.

  Fernsong looked at her, whiskers twitching. “I was hoping you’d protect me.”

  “If you’re nice to me, I might,” Ivypool purred.

  The warriors headed for the entrance, their pelts brushing amiably.

  Twigpaw followed, feeling awkward beside Alderpaw. It had been so long since they’d spoken properly; it would be weird traveling with him.

  “How long will it take to get there?” she asked, avoiding his gaze.

  “We should reach the Thunderpath tomorrow if we keep moving.”

  Twigpaw felt suddenly daunted. “Will we have to travel all night?”

  “We’ll find somewhere to rest tonight.” Alderpaw ducked through the entrance. “And if we wake early, we’ll be there before sunhigh tomorrow.”

  Twigpaw followed. Half excited, half anxious, she followed Alderpaw up the rise that led toward the lake. The ground squelched beneath her paws. Newleaf warmth was slowly softening the forest. Green buds clung in a haze to the trees, and beyond them stretched a pale blue sky.

  “I hope we find her, Twigpaw.” Alderpaw’s mew was gentle as he waited for her to catch up.

  She blinked at him and saw warmth in his eyes. He really means it. The anger that had sat like ice in her belly for a half-moon began to melt. “So do I.”

  Twigpaw’s paws ached as she followed Fernsong and Ivypool from the trees. Since yesterday they’d crossed hills and meadows, tracked rivers, and skirted Twoleg nests. They’d slept through the coldest part of the night in a sheltered hollow. Now, at last, they were close. She winced as bright sunlight bathed her face.

  Alderpaw stopped beside her and nodded toward the bottom of the long slope in front of them. A wide Thunderpath cut through the valley, snaking along the bottom like a stinking river. “We found you down there.”

  “Near the Thunderpath?” Twigpaw blinked. She’d never seen a Thunderpath before—not that she could remember, anyway. The noise and smell made her shrink back. Monsters roared along it, the sun flashing on their shiny pelts.

  “Yes.” Alderpaw frowned.

  Ivypool and Fernsong paced the top of the slope, their pelts twitching nervously. “Should we go down there?”

  “Of course!” Twigpaw flattened her ears against the sound of the Thunderpath and padded forward. “I want to see the nest.” She’d heard how Alderpaw and Needletail had plucked her and Violetpaw from a nest hidden in the shadows. Perhaps some trace of her mother’s scent lingered there, a trace they could track.

  Ivypool hesitated.

  Fernsong looked at her. “We’ve come this far,” he meowed. “We might as well go all the way.
”

  “But the monsters.” Ivypool stared at them nervously. “What if they leave the path?”

  Fernsong whisked his tail. “They never leave the path,” he meowed. “Monsters may be big and loud, but they are bee-brained.”

  Twigpaw flicked her tail. Warriors weren’t supposed to be scared. She hurried forward, her heart quickening as she scanned the slope for some sign of a nest.

  Alderpaw hurried to catch up to her. “We have to go underneath it.”

  “Underneath?” Twigpaw looked at him, shocked.

  “There’s a tunnel. It’s not very—” The sound of the monsters drowned his mew.

  Twigpaw could feel their heat as they neared. She raised her voice. “Where’s the entrance?”

  Alderpaw scanned the edge of the Thunderpath, frowning for a moment. Then he nodded toward a small shadowy hollow where the side of the Thunderpath dropped into a ditch. “There it is.”

  Excitement surged in Twigpaw’s belly. She broke into a run. Ignoring the acrid wind from the monsters, which tore through her fur, she leaped into the ditch. Pebbles lined it, jabbing her paws. She hurried along it until she reached the shadowy hollow. A huge monster screamed past. She screwed up her eyes as grit sprayed her.

  Alderpaw landed beside her. Leaning over her, he shielded her as another monster streaked past.

  Paw steps crunched behind them. Ivypool and Fernsong were hurrying along the ditch toward them.

  “Is this it?” Ivypool blinked at the hole in the side of the ditch. Smooth, dark sticks crisscrossed it.

  Twigpaw peered between them. The scent of dank stone and sour water filled her nose. She sniffed nervously, straining to see through the darkness. As her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, she could see twigs littering the bottom of the tunnel. Water pooled there, gleaming as it stretched into the distance. Pale light showed at the far end. Something skittered there. A rat?

  Alderpaw crouched close beside her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Twigpaw swallowed. She realized that her pelt was bristling as she struggled to remember this place. Was this really where her mother had left them? Sadness twisted her heart. What a terrible place for a nursery. She thought of the bramble den back at camp, where countless queens had raised litters in warmth and safety. What had driven her mother to this? She stuck her head between the sticks and squeezed through them.

  Foul-smelling water soaked her paws. The skittering paw steps sounded again, echoing along the stone walls of the tunnel. Picking her way among the debris, Twigpaw sniffed. She tried desperately to smell some trace of her mother through the stench, but nothing remained except the scent of monsters and rats.

  Alderpaw squeezed after her, while Fernsong and Ivypool crouched at the opening, their eyes wide as they peered through.

  “The nest must have been washed away,” Alderpaw guessed.

  Twigpaw blinked at him through the darkness. Sorrow tugged at her heart. “Why did she leave us here?”

  “Surely she had no choice.” Alderpaw’s eyes glinted in the shadows.

  Twigpaw glanced around. “I see why you took us now.” Suddenly she understood that Alderpaw couldn’t have left her and Violetpaw here. If cold or hunger hadn’t killed them, rats might have. But hope still pricked her heart. “I wonder where she went.”

  Without waiting for a response, she pushed past Alderpaw and slid back through the crisscrossed sticks. Flattening her ears against the monsters’ roars, she glanced along the ditch. She tried to imagine what her mother had been thinking when she left the nest. She must have gone looking for food. Had she gotten lost? Had she forgotten her way back to the tunnel? Twigpaw nosed past Ivypool and Fernsong and headed along the ditch. She climbed onto the slope and toward a swath of long grass. Mice would be there, right? Her mother might have followed this path, guessing the same.

  “Twigpaw!” Ivypool called after her.

  Twigpaw glanced back.

  The silver-and-white she-cat was hurrying after her, Fernsong and Alderpaw on her heels. “Wait for us.” She caught up to her, puffing.

  “I have to figure out where my mother went,” Twigpaw mewed urgently.

  Ivypool gazed at her sympathetically. “But it was moons ago, Twigpaw. You can’t hope to find a trace of her.”

  Fernsong stopped beside her. “The leaf-bare snows would have washed any scents away.”

  Twigpaw stared at them, panic opening like a whirlpool in her belly. White fur caught her eye. She glanced past them. A cat was on the Thunderpath! It sat, motionless, in the middle as monsters thundered past it. “Look!”

  Ivypool snapped her head around, following her gaze.

  “What in StarClan!” Fernsong’s mouth gaped open as he saw the stranded cat.

  “Why isn’t she trying to run away?”

  Twigpaw hardly heard Ivypool’s gasp. She hared down the slope. “We have to save her!”

  She tore toward the Thunderpath, desperation driving her on. What if that was her mother? She leaped over the ditch, her paws hitting the Thunderpath as a monster howled past, a tail-length from her nose. Her gaze flicked across the stretch of gray stone. If she could dodge the monsters, she could reach the cat and guide her to safety. Her thoughts whirled. Blood pounded in her ears. She glanced back and forth, searching for a gap to race through.

  Suddenly claws gripped her pelt. Her paws scratched over the stone as someone jerked her backward. Teeth sank into her scruff as the ditch opened below her and Ivypool hauled her down into its shelter.

  “What in StarClan do you think you’re doing?” Ivypool stared at her.

  Fernsong landed beside them, his pelt bushed. “Do you want to get yourself killed?”

  “What about the cat?” Twigpaw wailed above the monsters.

  She reared onto her hind legs, peering over the edge. A bright red monster, far bigger than the rest, pounded toward the helpless cat. “Run!” The shriek tore from Twigpaw’s throat. But the cat didn’t move. Horror shrilled though Twigpaw as the red monster hurtled over it. She stared in disbelief as the cat disappeared.

  “They killed her.” Her words caught in her throat.

  Ivypool hopped onto the edge of the Thunderpath and stared across it. Twigpaw jumped up beside her, her heart pounding as she scanned the stone for blood. But there was none. All that was left of the cat was white fluff, tossed in the wake of the monsters like thistledown.

  Twigpaw stared at it. “That cat wasn’t real.” Her murmur was swept away as another monster tore past.

  Ivypool nudged her down into the ditch. “It must have been some Twoleg trick,” she meowed as they landed with a crunch on the pebbles.

  Fernsong blinked at them. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Twigpaw stared at him, hardly hearing. She felt frozen. That could have been her mother. Realization swept over her like an icy wind. How could her mother still be alive? She’d had kits to feed. She’d had to hunt. She would have had to cross the Thunderpath countless times. She was probably hit, like that lifeless ball of fluff, by a monster. Why else would she have not returned to their nest? Certainty sat in Twigpaw’s belly like a stone. Her mother was dead.

  “Come on.” Alderpaw’s soft mew sounded in her ear. She felt his warm muzzle nudging her forward. Numbly, she let him guide her out of the ditch and back up the slope.

  She was dimly aware of Ivypool and Fernsong moving beside them. Her heart ached with every paw step, and then shadow swallowed her. She blinked, realizing they were among the trees once more.

  She met Alderpaw’s gaze. “I know she’s dead now,” she murmured hoarsely. “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Violetpaw rolled over in her nest, half waking as fur brushed the door of the den. Through a mist of sleep, she wondered if she’d slept late and Dawnpelt had come to wake her. She half opened her eyes and, seeing it was still dark, decided that she must have dreamed it.

  She let sleep drag her into blackness once more.

  “Violetpaw.”
>
  A hiss beside her ear made her leap to her paws. “Who is it?” Shock pulsed through her as she smelled unfamiliar scent. This wasn’t a ShadowClan cat. She could make out the shape of a young she-cat in the gloom.

  “It’s me,” the voice hissed again. “Twigpaw.”

  Violetpaw froze. “What in StarClan are you doing here?”

  “I had to see you.”

  Violetpaw looked around, alarm spiking her pelt. Thank StarClan Whorlkit, Flowerkit, and Snakekit hadn’t been made apprentices yet. She had the den to herself. “You can’t be here!” she whispered anxiously. “If someone finds you, we’ll both be in trouble.” Her Clan was just starting to accept her. She couldn’t be found with a ThunderClan cat. She nudged Twigpaw toward the entrance, her nose wrinkling as she smelled ThunderClan scent on her sister’s pelt.

  “But I have to talk to you!” Twigpaw dug her paws in.

  Violetpaw shoved her harder. “Not here!” She bundled Twigpaw from the den and hurried toward the shadow at the edge of the clearing. “This way!” Her gaze darted nervously around the camp. Snores sounded from the dens. Nothing moved apart from Twigpaw, pale in the moonlight. “Hurry!” Violetpaw led the way quickly and quietly to the dirtplace tunnel.

  She turned. Twigpaw wasn’t following. Her sister stood beside the camp wall, her eyes flashing in the darkness. “What are you doing?” Violetpaw demanded. Did Twigpaw want to get into trouble?

  “I went to find our mother,” Twigpaw hissed. “She’s gone. She’s dead. You were right.”

  Violetpaw stared at her. “Of course she’s dead. Why else would she have abandoned us? Did you come just to tell me that?”

  She saw pain glitter in Twigpaw’s eyes. Frustration welled in her chest. What did Twigpaw want from her? “I’m sorry! But don’t expect me to be surprised.” She glanced nervously around the camp. The stench of ThunderClan cat was bound to wake someone soon. “Look,” she growled, “I know you’re upset, but you’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Don’t you care?” Twigpaw stared at her, still not moving.