The Forgotten Warrior

  Sniffing carefully all around, Lionblaze couldn’t find any signs that the prey had been eaten where it was caught. Then he stiffened, spotting tiny drag marks leading toward the border. Following them paw step by paw step, sometimes almost losing the trail among grass and leaves, Lionblaze finally reached the border. The drag marks continued; passing the ThunderClan scent markers, he found scattered feathers a few fox-lengths outside the boundary, in unclaimed forest.

  So this cat killed prey, but knew enough to take it across the border before they ate it. Lionblaze’s heart started to beat faster. This is a cat who knows about the territories! It’s confident hunting and moving around here, but it doesn’t want to be found.

  Lionblaze sat beside the feathers, wrapped his tail around his paws, and tried to think. If the intruder was living in this area, she had food and water, but she would need shelter, too.

  Not too far from here, if they want to keep an eye on ThunderClan, but not so close that scent would stray across the border while they’re resting . . .

  Rising to his paws again, Lionblaze ventured a little farther into the unknown woods. He soon came to a bramble thicket, which looked like a possible shelter for a loner.

  No, he thought, eyeing it carefully. I wouldn’t live there. It would be too hard to escape, and a cat could be on top of me before I heard them.

  Searching farther, his pelt prickling with the feeling that he was very close to his quarry, Lionblaze came to a clearing where the ground was uneven and moss-covered rocks jutted out of the ground. Beneath one of the biggest boulders was a hole, like the entrance to a tunnel. Lionblaze set his paws down as lightly as if he were stalking a mouse. Reaching the hole, he stretched out his neck and took a sniff. Dampness and earth flooded his scent glands, but there was the scent of cat as well, though he couldn’t identify it among all the other scents.

  He was crouching down to enter when another thought occurred to him. Wait. I wouldn’t shelter in there unless I knew there was another way out.

  Still treading carefully, he slunk around the boulders, his gaze flicking from side to side in search of another hole. Finally he found it: smaller than the first, and well-hidden in a clump of ferns.

  Yes!

  After a moment’s thought, Lionblaze searched until he found a fallen branch, and dragged it back to the second hole, jamming it firmly across the opening.

  I don’t know if the intruder is in there, but I’m taking no chances.

  He returned to the first entrance, crouching down and straining to see inside. But it was impossible to make out anything in the darkness.

  There’s no other choice. I’ll have to go in.

  For a couple of heartbeats he hesitated. He really didn’t want to squeeze himself into the dark hole. It was too small for him, and he felt as if he would hardly be able to breathe in the cramped space. There could be anything down there . . . snakes . . . foxes . . .

  Then he gave his pelt a shake. Are you a warrior, or a mouse? Flattening himself to the ground, he began to thrust his shoulders into the narrow gap and crawl forward.

  A voice spoke behind him. “Hello, Lionblaze.”

  Lionblaze’s heart jumped. He whipped around, banging his head on the boulder that sheltered the hole. Then his jaw dropped open and he stared in astonishment. In front of him stood a cat that he had never expected to see again.

  “Sol!”

  Sol inclined his head. His mottled brown-and-black pelt gleamed in the sunlight and his whiskers arched with amusement as he looked at Lionblaze. “How appropriate that you’re the first cat that I see when I return,” he mewed, giving his chest fur a couple of licks. “After all, you were the last cat I saw before I left.”

  Guilt surged over Lionblaze as he remembered how he had helped Sol escape from the ThunderClan camp, genuinely believing that he didn’t deserve to be kept prisoner.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his mind racing.

  Sol’s ears twitched in surprise. “No warm welcome for a former Clanmate?”

  “You were never my Clanmate,” Lionblaze retorted, struggling to keep calm, furious with himself that Sol had caught him off-balance, with his pelt covered in soil and debris. “And you’re wrong to expect a welcome from any of us,” he went on. “We know what you did to Blackstar and ShadowClan.”

  Sol’s eyes widened in a hurt expression. “I simply suggested a different way of living. The world doesn’t begin and end with the warrior code, you know.” An ominous note crept into his voice. “But I also know that the warrior code insists that you treat visitors with courtesy. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to visit old friends, is there?”

  Lionblaze gritted his teeth. This cat leaves me wrong-footed whatever I say! “We were never your friends,” he muttered.

  “Oh, I think you were,” Sol meowed. “After all, you helped me to escape, didn’t you?” Blinking at Lionblaze’s hiss of annoyance, he added, “Ah, I see that this isn’t common knowledge. I can’t say I’m surprised. Hardly your finest moment, was it, releasing a prisoner? Though I have to say I was never entirely sure what I was captured for.” He examined the claws on one forepaw. “So, are you going to take me to Firestar?”

  Surprise rippled through Lionblaze’s pelt. “Really?”

  Sol nodded. “Why not? I have no quarrel with him, even if he did imprison me for no reason. We can share stories about the old days by the lake. The vanishing sun—remember that?”

  Lionblaze shuddered and looked up at the sky, remembering the unnatural darkness, chill, and silence all too clearly.

  “It’s all right,” Sol purred. “I’m not going to make it disappear again. As long as I’m not treated unfairly, that is.”

  Lionblaze emerged from the thorn tunnel with Sol just behind him. Most of the patrols had returned by this time, and the stone hollow was filled with cats sunning themselves, sharing tongues, or gossiping beside the fresh-kill pile. Dustpelt was crossing the clearing, heading for the dirtplace tunnel; he halted when he spotted Sol.

  “I don’t believe it!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  Cloudtail and Brightheart, curled up together in a sunny spot, raised their heads and stared. “Sol! It can’t be!” Cloudtail’s voice was a yowl of astonishment.

  Alerted by the noise, two or three warriors poked their heads out of their den, then slid into the open. Brackenfur, who was sharing tongues with Sorreltail just outside, took one look, sprang to his paws, and raced up the rockfall toward Firestar’s den.

  “Sol!” Squirrelflight gasped, looking up from the fresh-kill pile with a vole in her jaws. “Oh, no!”

  Cherrypaw and Molepaw scampered across the clearing and skidded to a halt in front of Sol, gazing at him with eyes stretched wide in wonder.

  “Are you really Sol?” Cherrypaw asked. “Mousefur was just telling us about you!”

  “Yeah, are you the cat who stole the sun?” Molepaw added.

  Sol dipped his head. “Yes, but I gave it back again.”

  “Wow!”

  Lionblaze didn’t move as more of his Clanmates bounded across the clearing and surrounded him and Sol. He glanced around for Jayfeather and Dovewing, but couldn’t see either of them.

  “What do you want?” Graystripe growled, pushing himself to the front of the crowd. “Every time you set paw in our territory, it means trouble.”

  “Right.” Dustpelt came to stand beside Graystripe, his neck fur bristling. “If I were you, Sol, I would turn around again and go back where you came from.”

  “So good to meet old friends,” Sol purred, raising one paw and giving it a lick. “There’s always such a warm welcome in ThunderClan.”

  Before any cat could respond, Firestar shouldered his way forward and halted in front of Sol, looking him up and down with suspicion in his green eyes.

  “Why are you here, Sol?” he asked, his flame-colored pelt fluffing up.

  Sol blinked. “I was just passing through. I couldn’t go on without stopp
ing to greet my friends in ThunderClan.”

  Passing through . . . huh! Lionblaze thought. He’s been around for several sunrises, at least.

  Firestar seemed to consider Sol’s answer for a moment, the tip of his tail flicking slightly. “ThunderClan has no quarrel with you now,” he mewed at last. “But I can’t say the same about Blackstar. And you’ve already caused enough trouble by hanging around on the WindClan border. All in all, it would be better if you just left.”

  Sol’s only response was to twitch an ear.

  “We can make him go, Firestar,” Cloudtail growled, taking a pace forward. “Just say the word.”

  But at the same moment, a loud cry of “Sol! Sol!” came from the direction of the warriors’ den. Poppyfrost came pelting across the camp and wriggled through the crowd of cats surrounding Sol.

  “Sol, you saved my kits, didn’t you?” she meowed, gazing wide-eyed at him. “Above the hollow, when the fox cornered them? It was you, wasn’t it?” she went on insistently when Sol didn’t reply. “They didn’t get a good look at you, but they’d have known if it was a ThunderClan warrior.”

  Lionblaze’s heart sank. Realizing that Sol must have been the cat under the hazel bush who scared away the fox didn’t change his opinion at all. He wanted Sol gone.

  “And what was Sol doing, wandering around ThunderClan territory?” Dustpelt muttered.

  “Yeah.” Cloudtail glared at the newcomer. “Why didn’t he come straight here if he wanted to visit, or make himself known to a patrol?”

  Poppyfrost’s head swiveled and she returned Cloudtail’s glare. “He probably wasn’t sure about what sort of a welcome he’d get,” she retorted, then turned back to Sol with a deep-throated purr. “Oh, Sol, thank you so much! You’ll always be welcome here.”

  “Thank you, Poppyfrost,” Sol replied. “But really, it was nothing.”

  “Fighting off a fox isn’t nothing,” Berrynose meowed, coming up behind Poppyfrost and dipping his head respectfully to the visitor. “Firestar, he can stay the night, can’t he?”

  Firestar looked disconcerted. Lionblaze could see that he didn’t want to let Sol back into the camp, but he could hardly turn him away now. “Very well,” he agreed, with a curt nod.

  “Come over here and take your pick of the fresh-kill pile,” Berrynose invited.

  The cream-colored warrior escorted Sol across the camp, and most of the other cats followed. Cherrypaw and Molepaw were already asking excited questions about Sol’s travels.

  “Later,” Poppyfrost told them. “Let Sol eat and rest first.”

  Lionblaze stayed where he was, near the camp entrance. I can’t believe this! Sol’s back in ThunderClan as an honored guest. He spotted Jayfeather, who had been listening at the edge of the crowd, and padded over to join him. “We were wrong,” he mewed.

  Jayfeather nodded, his head turned toward the fresh-kill pile as if he could see his Clanmates gathering around Sol. “I was so sure . . .” he murmured.

  “I don’t care how many apprentices Sol saved,” Lionblaze went on after a moment. “I don’t trust him, and I don’t think Firestar trusts him, either.”

  “Neither do I.” Jayfeather gave a disdainful sniff. “There’s no way he was just passing by. He’s here for a reason, and that reason is bound to be trouble.”

  Chapter 8

  Dovewing followed Brambleclaw through the thorns with a squirrel clamped in her jaws. Hazeltail and Thornclaw followed, also carrying prey. It had been a good hunt.

  At the end of the narrow tunnel, Dovewing almost bumped into Brambleclaw, who had halted abruptly just inside the camp. “Sorry,” he muttered, moving out of the way.

  When Dovewing emerged, she saw that the Clan deputy was gazing across the clearing at a strange cat who was sitting beside the fresh-kill pile, eating a piece of prey and chatting to the ThunderClan warriors who surrounded him. He looked sleek and well-fed, his pelt mottled brown and black, patched with white.

  “Who is that?” she asked Brambleclaw, who was still staring at the newcomer, his neck fur beginning to bristle.

  “Sol,” the deputy replied, dropping the rabbit he was carrying. “He was here before you were born, and—”

  “Mousefur told me about him, moons ago!” Dovewing interrupted, excitement beginning to prickle her paws. “Didn’t he make the sun go away? I thought that was just a story.”

  Brambleclaw nodded. “It’s no story.”

  “Do you think he’ll do it again?”

  “He’d better not,” Thornclaw growled, coming to stand beside Brambleclaw. “That cat is trouble. I can’t imagine what Firestar’s thinking, letting him in here.”

  Brambleclaw picked up his rabbit and led the way across to the fresh-kill pile. The rest of the patrol followed to deposit their prey, weaving their way between the cats who were talking to Sol.

  “Come and meet Sol,” Mousewhisker meowed enthusiastically as Dovewing added her squirrel to the pile. “He’s the cat who chased the fox away and saved the apprentices.”

  “Yes, isn’t it great that he came back?” Whitewing added. “Just think what would have happened to those poor young cats!”

  But Dovewing could tell that not all the cats around Sol were pleased to see him. Firestar was sitting with Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Millie, looking distinctly awkward about the newcomer’s presence, while Dustpelt, Ferncloud, and Squirrelflight had their heads together, speaking in undertones and casting suspicious glances at Sol.

  Purdy and Mousefur padded slowly across from the elders’ den, looking curious; Purdy blinked in surprise when he spotted Sol.

  “Well, what next!” the old tabby exclaimed. “Sol! I never reckoned I’d see you again.”

  Sol inclined his head. “Purdy. You’re looking well. Mousefur, I—”

  The brown she-cat lashed her tail as Sol turned to her, taking a pace back and letting out a hiss. “Don’t come near me,” she snarled.

  For a moment Dovewing thought she detected a flash of anger in Sol’s amber eyes. Then the mottled tom dipped his head again. “The same old Mousefur, I see,” he mewed smoothly. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

  Mousefur spun around and stalked back to her den. Purdy cast a helpless glance at Sol before following her. Watching the cranky elder, Dovewing didn’t notice that Ivypool had appeared at her side until her sister poked her with one paw.

  “How weird is this?” Ivypool meowed. When Dovewing didn’t answer, she went on in a whisper, “Did you see anything on the ShadowClan border?”

  Dovewing guessed that her sister was referring to the threat from Dawnpelt. “You’re taking that stupid she-cat seriously?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “No, I didn’t see a thing. No cat’s going to listen to her lies when there are bigger things to think about.”

  Firestar sent more patrols out to bring back extra prey, and as the sun went down the Clan feasted around the fresh-kill pile. Dovewing sat nibbling at a mouse, trying to work out what Sol’s arrival would mean for ThunderClan. The younger cats were gathered around the newcomer, crouching with wide-open eyes and ears pricked to take in every word he said.

  “Then there was the time I fought off a badger single-pawed,” Sol was relating. “A huge, ugly brute it was, too. I came across it unexpectedly when I was hunting in a forest a long way from here.” He gave his paw a long lick and drew it slowly over his ear. “But badgers aren’t dangerous if you know how to handle them. It soon got out of there when I gave it a scratched nose.”

  I hope Cherrypaw and Molepaw don’t think that’s the right way to deal with a badger, Dovewing thought. The two apprentices were right at the front of the crowd, forgetting to eat as they gazed up at Sol with gaping jaws.

  “Tell us more!” Cherrypaw begged. “Have you ever fought with dogs, Sol?”

  “I’ve fought off more dogs than you’ve eaten mice,” Sol replied. “There was a time—”

  “No, that’s enough,” Poppyfrost mewed, flicking Cherrypaw’s shoulder with her tail. “I?
??m sorry, Sol, but it’s time they were both in their nests.”

  “No way!” Molepaw protested. “We’re not kits anymore.”

  “You still need your sleep,” Poppyfrost told him.

  Berrynose leaned over to his mate and touched her ear with his nose. “Let them stay up for once,” he murmured. “It’s not every day they have the chance to learn about what’s beyond these hills.”

  “Yes!” Molepaw gave an excited little bounce. “Go on about the dog, please, Sol.”

  “Well, it was with a couple of Twolegs and their kits,” Sol began. “They were walking in the woods where I was staying at the time, and the stupid creatures let their dog off that tendril-thing they use to tie themselves to animals. It picked up my scent and came yapping through the ferns toward my den. So do you know what I did then?”

  “No!” Cherrypaw breathed out. “Tell us!”

  “I climbed a tree,” Sol went on. “I waited until the dog came running underneath, and I dropped down right on top of it!”

  Dovewing heard several cats catch their breath in excitement. They actually believe this nonsense?

  “That mangy fleapelt yowled to the moon and back, I can tell you,” Sol went on. “It went yelping back to its Twolegs with its tail between its legs and me still clinging onto its neck.”

  “Did the Twolegs catch you?” Blossomfall asked breathlessly.

  Sol shook his head. “Just before the dog ran up to them, I jumped off and hid in some ferns. They shouted at the dog for running off, and put its tendril-thing back on. And that was the last I saw of it.”

  Trying to ignore the admiring comments from her Clanmates, Dovewing stared at Sol. She cast back through her recent memories in case she could pick up any faint sounds that might have been him trespassing on ThunderClan territory. But there was nothing. She shook her head in frustration.