The dark tabby tom hesitated before he replied, as if he were wondering how much to give away. “Sol is a welcome presence in ThunderClan,” he meowed.
That means Sol is very bad news, Ivypool realized. Too scared to ask any more questions, she followed Hawkfrost until he halted at the edge of a stretch of marsh. Four other cats were waiting there, belly-deep in mud and bristly grass. All of them turned as one, watching as Ivypool and Hawkfrost approached.
“Right,” Hawkfrost announced. “Fighting in difficult terrain . . .”
The sky was flushed with rose-pink the next morning as the dawn patrol set out. Drops of dew glittered on every stem of grass and sparkling cobwebs spread across the bramble thickets. Ivypool’s paws dragged as she forced herself through the forest. She was exhausted from the night’s training, and she was convinced that her fur still smelled of the stinking mud of the marsh.
“Stop sniffing,” Toadstep muttered. “It’s so annoying! Do you think you have greencough?”
“No, I just need to wash my fur,” Ivypool responded.
“Your fur is fine.” Millie, who was leading the patrol, glanced over her shoulder. “Concentrate on what we’re doing, please.”
Hazeltail, who had been scouting a few tail-lengths ahead, suddenly froze. A moment later she came creeping back through the long grass. “I heard a cat walking close to the border,” she murmured.
Millie gave her a brisk nod. “Ivypool, head that way,” she directed, flicking her tail at a narrow path around a clump of elder bushes. “I’ll go this way.”
Ivypool obeyed, setting down her paws with all the stealth she had learned in the Dark Forest as she skirted the elder clump, then ducking low to avoid brambles that trailed across the path. Soon she picked up the cat’s scent and the sound of its paw steps. It was heading confidently toward the border, seeming not to care whether any cat spotted it or not. Ivypool recognized the scent at once.
Sol!
She crept forward until she could see him brushing through the undergrowth. He halted as Millie appeared from his other side.
“Is everything okay?” the gray tabby she-cat called.
For a heartbeat Sol seemed startled, then he recovered his poise. “Am I being followed?” he meowed. “Look, I’m not stealing any prey. You fed me too well last night for that.”
“Then where are you going?” Millie prompted.
Sol arched his back and relaxed. “I thought I’d visit ShadowClan,” he explained. “Catch up for old times’ sake.”
“You won’t be welcome there,” Millie warned him.
“I had friends there.” Sol’s eyes flashed at her. “And it was a long time ago. I come in peace!”
Ivypool bristled with distrust, but there was no way she or Millie could stop him from going. Looking after him as he strode away, she muttered, “Maybe you can eat their fresh-kill, then.”
Toadstep and Hazeltail arrived in time to hear what she said.
“That’s a bit unfair,” Toadstep protested.
“Yes,” Hazeltail agreed. “Don’t forget that Sol saved the apprentices from the fox. He must have changed.”
Millie gave a disdainful sniff. “Tabbies don’t change their stripes,” she growled.
Ivypool stared at Sol’s vanishing hindquarters and wondered just how much he knew about the Dark Forest. Has he been sent here to stir up trouble?
When the patrol returned to camp, Ivypool spotted Firestar and Brambleclaw beside the fresh-kill pile. Millie padded straight across the clearing to join them, the rest of the patrol following her.
“We met Sol while we were out,” she reported. “He said that he was going to pay a visit to ShadowClan.”
“What?” Brambleclaw sprang to his paws, his neck fur bristling and an angry look in his amber eyes. “The treacherous mange-pelt! What is he going to tell them about ThunderClan?”
Firestar calmly finished his mouthful of vole and twitched his ears at his deputy. “Take it easy, Brambleclaw. We’ve got no proof that he’s going to betray us. Anyway, what can he tell them that we would want to keep secret?”
“I still don’t like it,” Brambleclaw muttered. “Every time I set eyes on Sol my paws itch and I want to claw his pelt off.”
Firestar blinked in surprise. “I don’t want to encourage Sol to stay here in ThunderClan,” he meowed, “but if we persecute him without reason, he could go to the other Clans and cause trouble.”
“I’m not afraid of Sol or the other Clans,” Brambleclaw growled.
“Neither am I,” Firestar told him. “But if we have a chance to keep our enemies close, let’s not turn that down.”
Some of the other cats had drifted up to listen. Dovewing came up to Ivypool and gave her a prod with one paw. “What was all that about?” she asked.
Ivypool told her sister what Sol had said when they met him near the border.
“That cat is bad news,” Dovewing hissed. “Ivypool, do you know if he’s connected to the Dark Forest?”
Ivypool twitched her tail. “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him there, but when I asked Hawkfrost about him, he said he was pleased that Sol was here in ThunderClan.”
Dovewing’s neck fur began to fluff up, and her eyes reflected Ivypool’s own uneasiness. “That proves it’s bad to have him here,” she mewed.
Ivypool nodded. “But we can’t do anything about it as long as Firestar lets him stay. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him. I’ll tell you one thing, though,” she added. “Even if we find out he’s chased every fox in the woods out of our territory, I wouldn’t trust Sol a single mouse-length.”
Chapter 11
The sun was beginning to descend as Lionblaze led Graystripe, Spiderleg, and Blossomfall into the forest.
“I want to check the WindClan border,” Lionblaze meowed. “And we’ll keep a lookout for any more signs of fox, too.”
Golden sunlight was pouring through the branches, and the trees rustled gently in a fresh breeze. The fresh scents of grass and leaves surrounded the patrol. But all Lionblaze could see were the shadows under the trees, and his mind was filled with imagining the day when they might spread and engulf everything.
He took his patrol to the border stream where it flowed into the lake, then turned to follow it away from the shore, renewing the scent markers on the way. Everything was quiet; although the WindClan scent markers on the opposite bank were fresh, there was no sign of any WindClan patrols. They had covered about half the length of the border when the WindClan scent suddenly grew stronger, carried on the breeze that blew down from the moorland. Lionblaze raised his tail for the patrol to halt.
“Now what?” Spiderleg muttered.
As the black warrior spoke, a WindClan patrol appeared from behind a rocky outcrop and bounded up to the edge of the stream. Onestar was at the front; Crowfeather and Sedgewhisker were with him.
Lionblaze dipped his head. “Greetings, Onestar.”
The WindClan leader didn’t return the greeting. Instead, he stared across the stream at the ThunderClan cats with hostility in his eyes. “I was hoping to meet some of your Clan,” he rasped.
“Oh?” Lionblaze could feel anger stirring inside him at the challenge in Onestar’s voice, but he forced his fur to stay flat. “What can we do for you?”
“One of my warriors overheard a patrol of yours talking,” Onestar replied. “It seems you have that StarClan-cursed excuse for a cat, Sol, staying with you. Is that right?”
Lionblaze nodded. “Yes.”
“Then you have to drive him out at once!”
Lionblaze heard an annoyed hiss from Spiderleg, standing at his shoulder, but he still refused to let his anger show. “Why?” he meowed. “Has Sol done you any harm?”
“That’s not the point!” Onestar spat. “Every cat knows Sol is bad news. Firestar has to get rid of him now!”
The tip of Lionblaze’s tail began to twitch. “Firestar won’t be ordered around by the leader of another Clan,” he warned.
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bsp; “Then maybe WindClan will have to force him.” Onestar drew his lips back in the beginning of a snarl. “Every cat knows that Sol is an enemy to all the Clans.”
Lionblaze’s indignation spilled over and he bounded to the very edge of the stream, his tail lashing and his fur fluffed up. “If you want a fight, you can have one now!”
“Right!” Spiderleg leaped up to stand beside his Clanmate and slid out his claws.
Instantly Onestar and Crowfeather stepped up to the bank on the WindClan side of the stream. A growl began deep in Onestar’s throat, but before any cat could make another move, Graystripe shouldered Lionblaze back. Lionblaze glared at him. Surely he was as furious as Lionblaze at the way Onestar was trying to give orders to ThunderClan?
“That’s enough, Lionblaze.” Graystripe’s voice was firm and calm, and Lionblaze recalled that once he had been Clan deputy. “There’s no need to fight over this. Onestar, you need to remember that it’s not up to you to decide who receives ThunderClan’s hospitality. You’re insulting Firestar if you think he would offer shelter to a cat who didn’t deserve it.”
Though Lionblaze didn’t try to interrupt, he could tell that Graystripe’s words were sticking in his throat. He knew that Graystripe didn’t like Sol any more than Lionblaze did. We’d both like to see him gone. But that’s not the point. It’s not up to another Clan to tell us what to do.
Onestar was unimpressed by what Graystripe had said. “Send Sol away,” he growled. “Or I’ll make you.”
Graystripe shook his head, and there was sadness in his eyes now. “Onestar,” he began, “do you remember when you were Firestar’s friend, back in the old forest? How can we have come so far from that time? We don’t need to be enemies.”
Onestar lashed his tail. “Your Clan makes it impossible to be anything else.”
Lionblaze watched the younger warriors welcome Sol when he strolled back into the camp as the sun went down.
“The hunting patrols are just back,” Blossomfall meowed. “Come and choose some fresh-kill.”
“Will you tell us more stories?” Cherrypaw added, bouncing along at Sol’s side as he strolled across to the fresh-kill pile.
“Yes, did you ever see that dog again?” Molepaw asked eagerly.
Toadstep and Rosepetal gathered to listen, and Briarlight dragged herself over from the medicine cat’s den. Foxleap and Icecloud, who were sharing a blackbird, looked up as Sol approached; Whitewing, Birchfall, and Hazeltail appeared from the warriors’ den and sat nearby.
Lionblaze noticed that Dovewing remained within earshot, but a few tail-lengths off, with Ivypool and Bumblestripe. None of them looked enthusiastic about Sol’s return, and they made no move to join him and the others.
Good. Not all the young warriors want to be friends with him.
While Sol gulped down a plump vole, Blossomfall told him about the clash with WindClan earlier that day. “Lionblaze and Graystripe told Onestar that he can’t tell ThunderClan what to do,” she meowed. “But Onestar said that if we don’t send you away, then he’ll make us!”
Sol swallowed the last bite of vole and swiped his tongue appreciatively around his jaws. “You can’t possibly be afraid of WindClan,” he taunted. “Those scrawny rabbit-chasers? They’re no match for our warriors!”
“We’re not your warriors! You’re not a ThunderClan cat!” Ivypool blurted out.
Several cats gasped, and Whitewing turned and glared at her.
“Ivypool! That’s no way to talk to a visitor.”
“Well, he’s not,” Ivypool muttered.
Dovewing pressed her muzzle sympathetically against her sister’s side and Bumblestripe let his tail-tip rest for a heartbeat on her shoulder. The young warrior exchanged a glance with Dovewing over Ivypool’s head, and she gave a tiny nod in reply.
Dovewing and Bumblestripe seem to be getting very close, Lionblaze thought, and added to himself grimly, I wonder what will happen when Bumblestripe finds out about the prophecy?
Meanwhile, the young cats around Sol raced to reassure him that they weren’t afraid of WindClan at all.
“We’ll show them,” Foxleap yowled. “They can’t order us around like that!”
“Yes, we’ll rip their pelts off if they try,” Blossomfall growled.
Lionblaze listened to them with a growing sense of unease. The last thing any cat should want was a battle with another Clan. But Firestar couldn’t ignore Onestar’s challenge. Now he would be forced to offer hospitality to Sol purely in order to preserve the honor of ThunderClan. Anything else would look like Firestar was obeying orders from WindClan.
We can’t back down now, Lionblaze realized. Onestar has forced us to ally ourselves with Sol, even though he isn’t welcome here.
Chapter 12
Dovewing found herself walking through shadowy trees, and for a heartbeat she was terrified that somehow she had found her way into the Dark Forest. But moonlight was filtering down through the branches, and when she looked up she could see the stars.
All was quiet except that in the distance Dovewing could hear the wails of a cat in distress. She began to search among the ferns and brambles, but she couldn’t figure out where the wails were coming from. They grew louder and more urgent, but the cat still remained hidden.
Panicking, Dovewing started to run. Her flying paws tripped over a dead branch; letting out a startled screech, she rolled over on the ground and woke in her own nest, her legs flailing in the struggle to get up. Ivypool was sleeping beside her, while Cherrypaw and Molepaw were curled up together at the opposite side of the den.
“Whew!” Dovewing muttered. “That was some dream!”
Then she realized that she could still hear the wails of distress. They were fainter than in her dream, but loud enough to reach her through the walls of the camp.
“That’s Sorreltail!” she exclaimed. “And she’s somewhere outside the camp.”
Struggling to her paws, Dovewing scrambled out of the den and raced across the camp to find Jayfeather.
“Wake up!” she panted, brushing past the bramble screen at the entrance to the medicine cat’s den. “Jayfeather, it’s Sorreltail!”
“Wha’?” Jayfeather raised his head, his blue eyes blurred with sleep. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s Sorreltail,” Dovewing repeated. “I can hear her wailing. She must be having her kits, and she’s way outside the camp!”
Jayfeather was instantly alert, springing to his paws and shaking bits of moss and bracken from his pelt. “Her kits are coming early!” he exclaimed. “Show me where.”
Briarlight was waking, too, dragging herself out of her nest. “Can I help?” she meowed.
“No, it’ll be too far for you,” Jayfeather replied. “But be ready to give herbs to Dovewing. I’ll send her back to fetch them when I know what I need.”
As he finished speaking he whisked out of the den with Dovewing hard on his paws. Cloudtail was on watch at the entrance to the tunnel through the barrier.
“What’s going on?” he asked, rising to his paws.
“Sorreltail’s out in the forest, and her kits are coming,” Jayfeather panted, hardly breaking stride as he plunged into the thorns.
As Dovewing followed, she thought Cloudtail looked confused, and realized that no other cats could hear Sorreltail’s heartrending cries. Cloudtail must be wondering how they knew. “Fetch Brackenfur,” she called over her shoulder. “Tell him to follow our scent trail.”
Cloudtail waved his tail in acknowledgment as Dovewing headed out of the camp. Jayfeather was waiting for her at the other end of the tunnel, his claws digging impatiently into the ground.
“Lead the way,” he ordered.
Sorreltail’s pitiful wails were even louder now, flooding Dovewing’s senses. She could hardly believe that Jayfeather couldn’t hear them.
“She’s near the lake,” Dovewing meowed, pointing with her tail before remembering that Jayfeather couldn’t see her. “Follow me.”
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p; She bounded through the undergrowth, skirting bramble thickets and clumps of nettles. At first she kept looking back, uncertain whether the medicine cat would be able to keep up with her, but every time she turned her head he was hard on her paws.
“Sorreltail, we’re coming!” he yowled as they drew closer to the lake; Dovewing guessed that by now he must be able to hear the tortoiseshell she-cat for himself.
At last they broke out of the undergrowth into a clearing not far from where Dovewing had walked with Bumblestripe. Sorreltail lay stretched out on her side underneath an arching clump of ferns. She raised her head as Dovewing and Jayfeather raced across to her. “Oh, thank StarClan!” she gasped. “I was afraid no cat would hear me.”
Jayfeather crouched down beside her, studying her intently. “Lie still,” he murmured. “These kits will be born soon.”
“It hurts so much!” Sorreltail moaned. “It was never this bad with my first litter.”
Still concentrating, Jayfeather ran one paw down Sorreltail’s belly and felt her hips. “There’s the problem,” he told her. “It’s the stiffness I warned you about.”
“But I did my exercises—oh!” Sorreltail’s words ended in a gasp of pain as a powerful ripple passed down her belly.
“Should she have poppy seed?” Dovewing suggested.
“No!” Jayfeather snapped. “She’s already tired, and she needs all her energy to give birth. Go and fetch me some chervil root,” he added after a moment’s thought. “That should help things along.”
Dovewing turned and dashed back through the forest. I have no idea what chervil root looks like, she thought. I hope Briarlight knows. She hadn’t traveled many fox-lengths before she met Brackenfur and Ferncloud hurrying to meet her.
“Is Sorreltail okay?” Brackenfur demanded.
“She will be,” Dovewing responded, pausing briefly. “Jayfeather’s with her.”
Brackenfur nodded and raced on with Ferncloud at his side. Feeling reassured that Sorreltail’s mate and the most experienced queen in the Clan were heading to help, Dove-wing bounded on toward the stone hollow. As she panted up to the thorn barrier, Brambleclaw emerged, closely followed by Dustpelt and Thornclaw. Dovewing halted until they had all cleared the thorn tunnel.