“No cat asked you to,” Alderpaw meowed mildly. “We’ll head downstream on this side to start with, and maybe there’ll be a fallen tree or something where we can cross. We might even catch up with the others, if we’re lucky.”
Needlepaw let out a snort. “We could use a bit of luck!”
By this time the sun was starting to go down, casting scarlet light over the river. Alderpaw realized they would soon have to look for somewhere to spend the night. At least we’re far from those Twoleg dens, he thought.
Soon the Thunderpath veered away from the river, so that a grassy stretch of ground opened up, dotted here and there with clumps of bushes.
“This would be a good place to rest,” Alderpaw meowed, stretching his jaws in a yawn. “Any chance of prey?”
Needlepaw perked up at the thought of hunting. “Just watch me!”
She disappeared into the nearest bushes and returned a few moments later with the limp body of a blackbird dangling from her jaws. Meanwhile Alderpaw found a sheltered hollow underneath the branches of a hazel bush and scraped together some dead leaves to make a nest. As he ate his share of the fresh-kill, he realized how exhausted he was. Not even his worries about finding his way home were enough to keep him from falling into a deep sleep. But StarClan still did not visit him in his dreams.
For three more sunrises Alderpaw and Needlepaw trekked along the river. Their hopes revived when now and again they picked up traces of their friends’ scents and knew that they were still following in their paw steps. The river rolled on, wider and stronger now; there was nowhere safe for the cats to cross.
During the third day Alderpaw began to pick up the reek of monsters again, and there was a haze in the air ahead of them. Shortly after sunhigh more Twoleg dens loomed on the horizon.
“That’s a really big Twolegplace,” Alderpaw meowed, stifling a groan. “And I know we never passed it on the way to the gorge. We’ve come too far downriver.”
Needlepaw shrugged. “We didn’t have much choice.”
“And we still don’t.” Alderpaw cast a glance at the surging river, the far bank looking impossibly far away. “We’re going to have to travel through the filthy place.”
“You know, that might not be a bad thing,” Needlepaw mused as the two cats padded on side by side and the first of the Twoleg dens grew closer and closer.
Alderpaw was already feeling oppressed by the stinks and noises of the Twolegplace. “Not funny, Needlepaw,” he snapped.
“I’m not joking.” Needlepaw halted and turned to face him. Amusement was glimmering in her green eyes, but her tone was serious as she added, “We need to find a kittypet.”
“A kittypet?” Alderpaw was outraged. “Are you feeling okay? I don’t think there’s an herb for a cat with bees in her brain.”
“No, listen, idiot.” Needlepaw gave her ears and impatient flick. “A kittypet might be able to tell us where we can cross the river.”
Alderpaw snorted. “What makes you think that?”
“A kittypet would know this area well,” Needlepaw replied, “which we do not. And maybe they would even give us some kittypet food.”
Alderpaw wanted to retch with disgust. “You’re joking now, right?”
“No. We still have a long journey ahead,” Needlepaw meowed. “It makes sense to fill up while we can.”
“I’m not filling up on that stuff,” Alderpaw muttered as they set off again. “It’s totally against the warrior code to eat kittypet food. And they say it looks like mouse droppings!”
Alderpaw knew there was no point in protesting any more as he followed Needlepaw toward the Twolegplace. She kept marching on determinedly until they reached a Thunderpath that ran alongside the nearest dens. Needlepaw halted, glancing up and down for monsters, then stretched out a paw and rested it gently on the hard black surface of the Thunderpath.
“What are you doing?” Alderpaw asked.
“Feeling for vibrations,” Needlepaw replied. “Monsters are so huge, you can feel them coming before you can see them.”
“That’s useful,” Alderpaw murmured. He had never seen Needlepaw do that before, but then, Sandstorm, and then Molewhisker and Cherryfall, had taken the lead when they’d crossed Thunderpaths on the outward journey.
I wonder how much wandering Needlepaw has done on her own before this.
Needlepaw’s prodding him in the side roused Alderpaw from his thoughts. “Come on! It’s safe to cross.”
Alderpaw felt more and more uneasy as he bounded across the Thunderpath behind Needlepaw and followed her as she plunged deep into the network of Twoleg dens. It’s like she owns the place, he thought. How can she stand getting so close to Twolegs? They might even pick us up and stroke us!
His whole body thrilled with tension as Needlepaw trotted up to a male Twoleg who was bathing a bright blue monster outside his den. Showing no fear at all, she rubbed up against the Twoleg’s legs and let out a friendly little trill.
Before the Twoleg could make a grab, Alderpaw dashed up and gave Needlepaw a shove, pushing her until they were well away. “What are you doing? Do you want him to feed you to his monster?”
“Don’t be stupid!” Needlepaw retorted. “Don’t you know that if you cozy up to Twolegs they’ll often give you a piece of meat or something else tasty? I do it all the time at the greenleaf Twolegplace on ShadowClan territory. Of course, it wouldn’t work for you,” she added, looking Alderpaw up and down. “It only works for cute cats.”
“You’ve got bees in your brain,” Alderpaw growled. “Just keep moving.”
Looking smug, Needlepaw strode on again, her tail waving high in the air.
To Alderpaw’s relief, as soon as they rounded the next corner, they spotted a kittypet: a large ginger tom stretched out lazily on top of a wall. “Hi! Hi there!” Needlepaw yowled as she charged up to him.
“Hi,” the kittypet responded, startled out of his doze. “How can I help you?”
“We’re Clan cats, and we’re lost,” Needlepaw explained. “We need to get back to our territories, and to do that we have to cross the river. Do you know the way?”
Alderpaw was surprised, and a little disturbed, that Needlepaw was giving the kittypet so much information. We don’t know this cat. But then, he reassured himself, he probably has no idea what she’s meowing about.
The ginger tom stretched his jaws in a huge yawn. “Do you have anything to do with those three cats who were here at sunrise?” he asked.
“Three cats?” Alderpaw pressed forward urgently. “A cream-and-brown tom, a ginger she-cat, and a younger orange tabby?”
The kittypet nodded. “That’s them. They were really upset. They said they’d lost two young cats.”
Wonderful relief surged over Alderpaw. “Did they say where they were going?”
“You’re the cats they lost, right?” The kittypet’s eyes were full of sympathetic interest. “They were looking for a place to cross the river, too.”
“And did you tell them?” Needlepaw asked.
“Right down there.” The ginger tom pointed with his tail down a narrow alley that led between two rows of Twoleg dens. “That brings you back to the river. A little way downstream there’s a bridge.”
“A Twoleg bridge?” Alderpaw asked doubtfully.
“Of course a Twoleg bridge, mouse-brain!” Needlepaw gave Alderpaw an irritated shove. “We’ve dealt with those before. Thanks,” she added, looking up at the kittypet again.
“Anytime,” the kittypet responded with another yawn.
Alderpaw was beginning to turn away when another thought struck him. “You haven’t seen another, bigger group of cats traveling through here?” he asked the kittypet. “It would have been a while ago now.”
The kittypet shook his head. “Sorry, no.”
So SkyClan didn’t come this way. “Thanks anyway,” Alderpaw mewed, his last hope dying of finding the lost Clan.
Again he was turning to leave, but Needlepaw didn’t seem keen to follow
. “Before we go,” she began, “could you help us out with some food? We’re really hungry.”
“Sure.” The ginger tom rose to his paws and stretched. “Follow the wall along to the opening. I’ll meet you there.” With that he leaped down from his perch and disappeared.
Needlepaw bounded eagerly alongside the wall, and Alderpaw followed reluctantly. The kittypet was waiting for them beside a piece of fence made of something shiny and hard, with wide gaps between the bars. Needlepaw and Alderpaw slipped through.
In front of them was a rough, pebbly surface, and beyond it a stretch of grass surrounded by bushes and bright Twoleg flowers. Beyond that rose the walls of the Twoleg den. Alderpaw’s fur began to bristle at the thought of actually standing on Twoleg territory.
“The food’s in here,” the kittypet meowed, pointing with his tail.
Turning in that direction, Alderpaw’s pelt bushed up in horror. The kittypet was pointing to a small den at the end of the pebbly path; a monster was crouching in the opening.
“You can’t go in there!” he gasped to Needlepaw, who was already heading for the small den with the kittypet at her side.
“The monster’s asleep,” Needlepaw replied nonchalantly. “And to be honest—don’t tell them back in camp—I’m kind of curious to taste kittypet food.”
“But what if—” Alderpaw broke off as Needlepaw, ignoring him, disappeared into the monster’s den with the kittypet.
He didn’t attempt to follow. No cat is going to catch me eating kittypet food! Instead he kept watch, in case Twolegs appeared from the den or the monster showed signs of waking up. All the while he was tearing at the grass with his front claws, flexing them in and out with impatience. With every heartbeat they delayed here, his Clanmates were getting farther and farther away.
At last Needlepaw and the kittypet reappeared from the monster’s den. Needlepaw was swiping her tongue around her jaws with satisfaction. “That was great!” she mewed. “Thanks, Bob.”
Bob? Alderpaw thought. The kittypet’s name is Bob? Weird!
“Yeah, thanks, Bob,” he repeated. “You’ve been really helpful.”
“Glad to,” Bob responded, touching noses with Needlepaw. “Good luck on your journey.”
Alderpaw headed off down the alley Bob had shown them earlier, and Needlepaw pattered along by his side. “You can thank me later,” she meowed. “My idea totally worked! Now we know how to cross the river, and we can make our way back home.” She paused for a moment, then added, “What’s the matter with you now? Why don’t you look happier?”
Alderpaw hoped he had managed to conceal the heavy weight that had been gathering inside him ever since Bob had told them that he hadn’t seen any sign of SkyClan. But clearly it was impossible to hide anything from Needlepaw.
Halting, he turned toward her. “Don’t you get it?” he asked bitterly. “It’s because I’ve failed. What kind of a medicine cat am I?”
CHAPTER 21
Needlepaw looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“You know what I mean!” Alderpaw tried to choke back his anger at Needlepaw’s obtuseness. “SkyClan left the gorge after the rogues attacked them, and no cat seems to know where they went. We were supposed to save them! We just got there way too late!”
“How can you be sure?” Needlepaw asked, tilting her head to one side.
“Because the other Clans—our Clans—drove SkyClan out of the forest. That was so shameful, it’s been kept a secret ever since. My visions were telling me to go to SkyClan and bring them back to share our territory by the lake—to clear the sky, like in the prophecy.” Alderpaw’s voice began to shake as he realized the depth of his failure. “I messed up! I didn’t understand the first vision right away, and then Sandstorm died. . . . We got to the gorge too late. We couldn’t find what lay in the shadows, because SkyClan had already left. Now the sky will never clear! Who knows what will happen to the Clans? And it’s all because I’m a terrible medicine cat!”
He crouched down on the hard Twoleg path and rested his nose on his paws, letting out a desolate whimper. It seemed there was nothing but darkness ahead of him.
Needlepaw said nothing, and when Alderpaw at last looked up again, she was sitting watching him with her tail curled neatly around her forepaws and a skeptical look on her face. “Are you done?” she asked.
Alderpaw flicked an ear, annoyed with Needlepaw and with himself for breaking down in front of her. “I guess so.”
“You’re being stupid and self-pitying.” Needlepaw’s tone was harsh. “It would have taken the rogues a long time to set up in SkyClan’s old camp. And from the way you described Mistfeather, all ragged and skinny, the attack didn’t happen just yesterday. With the timing of your visions, there’s no way we could have made it to the gorge in time to save SkyClan.”
Alderpaw took all that in, beginning to feel a tiny bit better. “So?” he mewed at last.
“So,” Needlepaw responded, rising to her paws and heading off down the alley, “your visions must mean something else.”
Alderpaw was silent for a moment, thinking everything over. At the end of the alley they spotted the bridge a little way downstream, where Bob had told them it was. To his relief, it wasn’t a huge Thunderpath carrying monsters across the river, but a narrow, wooden structure, a bit like the half-bridges that jutted out into the lake. With no Twolegs in sight, it took only a couple of heartbeats for Alderpaw and Needlepaw to dart across.
On the opposite side of the river, a small stream trickled into the main current, tracking through long grasses with a belt of woodland beyond. Alderpaw’s spirits rose as they headed into the trees, but he still couldn’t stop worrying over the meaning of his quest.
He had to admit that what Needlepaw had said made sense. But if my visions weren’t leading me to SkyClan so I could save them, what were they doing? It was hard for him to feel that anything had been accomplished on the journey. We haven’t saved any cats. We haven’t embraced what we found in the shadows. We barely managed to survive ourselves. And we lost Sandstorm. Is there something else I should have done?
Without guidance from StarClan, Alderpaw felt as helpless as a kit.
Together Alderpaw and Needlepaw trekked across open country for several sunrises, heading toward the setting sun. They crossed Thunderpaths, skirted Twolegplaces, and found their way through fields where strange animals cropped the grass and watched them curiously. Now, toward the end of another tough day, Alderpaw was weary and cold, tired of sleeping under bushes or in drafty hollows in the ground. He longed for his comfortable nest in the stone hollow.
At least my hunting skills have improved, he thought grimly. It seems like all I needed was to go hungry a few times, to concentrate my mind on the prey just like Molewhisker wanted me to.
From time to time, he and Needlepaw had picked up the scent of the other questing cats, which reassured them that they were going in the right direction. But each time they found the traces, they were fainter and staler, as if the others were moving faster and drawing farther ahead.
The daylight was dying, and gray clouds were massing overhead. A chilly wind blew across the grass, ruffling the cats’ fur. Now and again Alderpaw felt the sharp sting of rain, and he guessed that a storm was coming.
That’s all we need! he groaned inwardly.
Suddenly Needlepaw, a little way ahead, let out an excited cry and began racing forward.
“Wait! What’s the matter?” Alderpaw called after her.
“It’s the farm!” Needlepaw tossed the words over her shoulder. “The one we passed through on the way!”
Bounding after Needlepaw, Alderpaw spotted the shiny fence and the field where the tall, yellow-brown plants had grown. Now only spiky stubble remained, and there was no sign of the monster with the spinning jaws.
Needlepaw reached the fence and easily scrambled over it, then pelted onward toward the cluster of Twoleg dens.
“Wait! Come back!” Alderpaw yowled, but
Needlepaw ignored him.
At the same moment the skies opened and rain cascaded down, drenching Alderpaw within heartbeats. He could barely see Needlepaw ahead of him through the driving screen of raindrops. When he reached the fence, the shiny strands were already so wet and slippery that it took all his concentration to clamber over.
A sharp pang stabbed through Alderpaw as he remembered Sandstorm. This is where everything went wrong. This terrible sharp fence, and the sticky mud that made her wound worse. We must have passed her grave on the way without even realizing it. Oh, Sandstorm, I’m sorry. . . .
Landing awkwardly on the other side, Alderpaw pushed aside his memories and managed to spot Needlepaw, still heading toward the center of the farm. “Stop! Come back!” he called again, but if she heard him, she paid no attention.
“Fox dung!” Alderpaw snarled. He knew that the sensible thing to do was to leave the farm, shelter under some trees until the storm was over, and then work out the best way to go. But he felt he had no choice now but to follow Needlepaw.
She ran past the cluster of Twoleg dens and headed into the field with the big yellow barn. Wide wooden doors barred the entrance, but there was a gap at the bottom, and Needlepaw managed to squeeze through. Growling with annoyance, Alderpaw flattened himself to the muddy ground and dragged himself through after her, the bottom of the door scraping his back fur.
Staggering to his paws, Alderpaw looked around. The huge barn was divided into sections by wooden barriers, and he stiffened when he saw that horses were standing in two of them.
“Needlepaw, watch out!” he called, then realized that long tendrils were tethering the horses in place. Thank StarClan! There’s no way they can get at us!
Needlepaw ran into one of the empty sections, then popped her head out and beckoned Alderpaw with a flick of her ears. “Come on, mouse-brain!”
Alderpaw followed her. Inside the section, the barn floor was covered by dry stalks that reminded him of the yellow-brown plants in the field. A warm animal smell filled the air; the scent of horses was strongest, but Alderpaw detected mice too.