“Why did you come in here?” he asked Needlepaw, anger still surging inside him. “Haven’t you learned anything? Twolegs are dangerous!”
Needlepaw settled down among the spiky stalks and began to groom herself. “I’d never want to live with Twolegs,” she mewed between strokes of her tongue, “but they do have nice warm dens, and loads of food. Would you really rather be outside in the rain right now?”
Listening to the rain battering down on the roof, Alderpaw had to admit that the annoying she-cat had a point. Letting out a sigh, he sank down into the stalks beside her.
“We can leave when the rain stops,” Needlepaw pointed out. “For now, we’ve got a safe place to rest and plenty of mice to eat.”
Abandoning her grooming, she sprang to her paws and dived into a heap of stalks. Heartbeats later she emerged again with bits of the stalks all over her fur and the body of a plump mouse gripped firmly in her jaws.
“This is for you,” she meowed, dropping the prey in front of Alderpaw. “Just to say sorry for not listening to you out in the rain.”
When did Needlepaw ever listen to any cat? Alderpaw reflected, shaking his head. “Thanks,” he told her, and sank his teeth into the warm prey.
Needlepaw caught another mouse for herself and settled down to eat it beside Alderpaw. Gradually Alderpaw managed to relax. The warmth, his full belly, and the repetitive sound of the rain outside soon lulled him into sleep.
“It’s good to see you.”
Alderpaw opened his eyes, aware at first of the glimmer of starlight on the surface of a pool and the soft plashing of water. Leaping to his paws, his heart beating wildly, he realized that he was standing beside the Moonpool. Sandstorm stood beside him, her pale ginger pelt glowing with a frosty light and the sparkle of stars at her paws. She was purring, and her green eyes shone with love for Alderpaw.
“Sandstorm!” Alderpaw breathed out. “I’m so happy to see you.”
As Sandstorm bent her head to touch her nose to his ear, Alderpaw couldn’t help turning away.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Sandstorm told him gently, as if she could hear his thoughts. “It was my time to go. I sensed when I decided to go with you to search for SkyClan that I might not survive the journey. You know,” she added, her voice growing softer, “I never wanted to spend my last days as an elder, sitting around in camp. I wanted to die doing something important . . . and your quest gave me the chance to relive a special memory with Firestar.”
“Are you and Firestar together now, in StarClan?” Alderpaw asked.
“Yes, we are,” Sandstorm purred. She sat down at the edge of the Moonpool and beckoned with her tail for Alderpaw to join her. “Now,” she continued, “tell me how your journey has gone. What have you learned?”
Frustration welled up inside Alderpaw. “It’s been terrible!” he burst out. “I don’t think I’ve learned anything at all.”
When Sandstorm only waited, her green gaze fixed on him, he began to pour out the story of everything that had happened since she died: finding Darktail and his cats in the gorge; discovering that they weren’t the real SkyClan, and that SkyClan had been driven out; trying to decide what to do, then escaping from the camp and being washed downriver with Needlepaw. “Please tell me what to do now!” he finished.
When Sandstorm did not respond, Alderpaw let his head droop wretchedly. “I know I’ve made a complete mess of everything.”
“How?” Sandstorm asked.
Alderpaw thought that was obvious. “I didn’t get there in time! If we were meant to save SkyClan to ‘clear the sky,’ now no cat can do that. I led every cat on this quest into great danger, and what have we accomplished? Nothing! I’ve failed.”
Unable even to look at Sandstorm anymore, he let out a despairing whimper. A moment later, he felt her nuzzle his neck, and a sense of comfort spread through his whole body. He managed to look up.
“Do you know the difference between you and Sparkpaw?” Sandstorm asked.
Alderpaw couldn’t see the point of the question. “What?”
“Sparkpaw believes she’s solved every problem,” Sandstorm replied, affection glimmering in her eyes. “And you believe you’ve caused every problem. You’re two sides of the same leaf. But you haven’t caused this problem,” she went on. “You have not failed. And it is not too late to fulfill the quest. It will merely require a different path.”
“What do you mean?” Alderpaw asked, but even as he spoke the words, he felt himself being shaken. The starshine on the surface of the Moonpool began to fade, and Sandstorm’s shape faded with it. “Wait!” Alderpaw exclaimed in alarm. “What different path?”
But he was already waking, to find Needlepaw shaking his shoulder. “It’s stopped raining,” she meowed. “I thought you’d want to know, since you’re so eager to get home.”
Groggily Alderpaw sat up. “Yes, let’s go home,” he murmured. But, he added silently to himself, we’ll need to follow a different path. . . .
CHAPTER 22
Alderpaw and Needlepaw were approaching the first Thunderpath they had crossed after they left their territories so many days ago. Tired and sore-pawed, Alderpaw was struggling with mixed feelings at the thought of being so close to home.
“I can’t wait to get back to ShadowClan territory,” Needlepaw mewed as she trotted along at his side. “I’ve missed my den so much, and—”
“Won’t you be in trouble with your Clan?” Alderpaw asked. “What’s your mentor going to say? Apprentices aren’t supposed to leave without permission.”
“I left in service of my Clan, remember?” Needlepaw replied. “Because I knew you sneaky ThunderClan cats were going in search of what you find in the shadows. Besides,” she added airily, “no cat ever really gets in trouble in ShadowClan. Sure, the older cats will yowl and stomp a bit, but what can they . . .”
Her voice trailed off as they drew close to the Thunderpath and halted at the sight of glittering monsters flashing past in both directions.
Alderpaw wasn’t really listening to her anymore. He stood still, staring thoughtfully into the distance.
After a moment Needlepaw prodded him. “What are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
Needlepaw gave an exasperated snort. “Thinking about what?”
“I’m not looking forward to getting home,” Alderpaw replied with a sigh. “Because that means the quest will be over. And I still don’t know what it was about.”
“It was about embracing what you find in the shadows, right? And we didn’t find it, but we found out a lot about it. You don’t have to stand here moping over it. Why can’t we just go?”
“Because I feel there’s more I should be doing.” Reluctantly Alderpaw admitted to himself that he would have to tell Needlepaw about Sandstorm visiting him when he was sleeping in the Twoleg barn. He had tried hard to work out what the starry warrior had meant by “a different path,” but with the last paw steps of their quest ahead of him he had still not found understanding. “I had a dream . . . ,” he began.
Needlepaw’s eyes widened as he revealed to her what Sandstorm had said. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asked.
Alderpaw shrugged awkwardly. “It was my vision. I wanted to figure it out by myself.”
“After all we’ve been through,” Needlepaw responded with an exaggerated sigh, “you should realize that you need me! Hmm . . . ,” she mused, glancing around her. “A different path . . .”
“I don’t think Sandstorm meant a literal different path,” Alderpaw meowed. “Just a different way of thinking. Like—”
But Needlepaw wasn’t paying attention. “Look!” she cried, dodging away from the Thunderpath.
Alderpaw watched as she bounded down a dip in the grass beside the edge of the black surface. It led to a tunnel opening, its mouth covered by bars of hard Twoleg stuff that were set wide enough for a cat to slip between them. A musty, damp scent flowed out of the opening.
“What are you doing???
? Alderpaw demanded as he trailed after Needlepaw. “That looks dangerous.”
Needlepaw turned back to him, rolling her eyes. “Have you got bees in your brain, or what? Look, we came over the Thunderpath, and now here’s a ‘different path’ that leads under it. Plus it’s all in shadow! We can go this way!”
“You’re the one with bees in your brain!” Alderpaw retorted. “I doubt StarClan just wanted us to go through a tunnel! It’s dark in there, and it smells weird. There could be anything lurking inside. And I can see water in the bottom of it.”
But there was no point in arguing. Needlepaw was already wriggling through the bars. “You never listen to me!” Alderpaw groaned, but the she-cat took no notice.
Alderpaw sighed, glancing from the Thunderpath to the tunnel and back again. The Thunderpath wasn’t as crowded with monsters as when they had crossed it before. He could ignore Needlepaw, head over the Thunderpath, and let her fend for herself. After all, she’s not a part of my Clan. She’s not even supposed to be on this quest. But even while the arguments passed through his head, he knew there was no point to them. He was following Needlepaw into the tunnel.
The stench caught him in the throat as he squeezed through the bars, and it was hard to stop himself from retching. Alderpaw picked his way carefully through the water, then realized that there was a higher area to one side, where he could scramble up and keep his paws dry.
The tunnel was full of shadows, but once Alderpaw’s eyes adjusted to it, he realized there was a little light filtering in from the entrance behind him, and the glow of the gap on the other side. He could see Needlepaw’s figure, dark against the distant outlet, bounding along ahead of him.
“I wonder where Sandstorm would want us to go next,” she meowed, her voice echoing strangely in the tunnel. “What’s most different? Maybe we shouldn’t even head back the way we came anymore. What if we went in another direction?” she continued, halting and half turning back toward Alderpaw. “We could loop all the way around Clan territory and come in through ShadowClan. Or maybe head the other way around the lake, through RiverClan. I’ve only been on RiverClan territory once,” she added reflectively, “and they caught me and sent me home with a scolding.”
Alderpaw shook his head. “You’re mouse-brained!” he responded.
Needlepaw turned to go on, and Alderpaw was about to follow, when he heard a soft cry coming from farther into the darkness, right against the wall of the tunnel. He froze, his ears pricked, and when the cry came again, he carefully padded toward it.
In the dim light Alderpaw could just make out a nest of moss and dry leaves, with something squirming inside it. At first he pulled back sharply; then he leaned forward again with a gasp of shock as his nose picked up the familiar milky scent of kits. A tiny black-and-white kit was lying in the nest, with a tiny gray one beside it, their colors hardly visible in the darkness.
The kits seemed to sense Alderpaw’s presence, and they craned toward him, their eyes tight shut, their pink mouths open to let out high-pitched mews.
“What’s the matter?” Needlepaw was bounding back down the tunnel toward Alderpaw. “Why are you—” She skidded to a halt as she spotted the nest.
“They’re—” Alderpaw began.
“They’re kits!” Needlepaw shook her head in disbelief. “Where’s their mother?” she asked, glancing around. “Their eyes aren’t even open yet. They can only be a few days old.”
“And they’re so thin,” Alderpaw added. “I can tell they haven’t eaten in a while.”
“I’ll go and look for their mother.” Needlepaw bounded to the other end of the tunnel and wriggled out through the bars. Alderpaw could hear her calling outside.
Alderpaw stooped over the nest and examined the kits more closely. Both of them were she-kits, and under their fur they seemed to be just skin and bone.
“Hey, Needlepaw!” he yowled. “Forget their mother for now. These kits need to eat. Catch something, right away!”
“Okay!” Needlepaw yowled back. A few heartbeats later she slid through the bars again and bounded along the tunnel again to join Alderpaw. She was gripping a fat vole in her jaws.
“That was quick!” Alderpaw mewed admiringly. “Now we chew up the meat and feed it to the kits.”
When they had chewed some of the fresh-kill into a pulp, Alderpaw gently opened the gray kit’s mouth and dropped the pulp in. The kit choked, spitting the meat out again.
“Oh, mouse dung!” Needlepaw sighed. “They’re not used to eating this stuff yet. They need milk.”
“Well, unless you have any, we have to keep trying with the vole,” Alderpaw meowed determinedly.
He dropped more pulp into the kit’s mouth, then massaged her throat so that she would swallow. The kit began choking again, but after a moment the chewed-up vole disappeared, and she began wailing for more.
“Thank StarClan!” Alderpaw exclaimed.
Needlepaw began to feed the black-and-white kit, and soon both tiny creatures were sucking eagerly at the pulp, desperate to fill their bellies.
“They would have starved without us,” Needlepaw murmured, sounding unusually gentle as she blinked affectionately at her kit.
Unexpected warmth spread through Alderpaw. I might have failed in my quest, but at least we saved these kits.
“Now we need to get them warm,” he mewed, when finally the kits stopped eating, their little bellies distended. They were already cuddling up to him and Needlepaw, drawn by the heat of their bodies. “Ow!” Alderpaw yelped as the gray kit batted him on the nose. “Your claws are sharp!”
He began to lick the gray kit, his tongue stroking backward from tail to head, to get her blood flowing. Needlepaw did the same for the black-and-white kit. Soon both kits were purring and sinking into sleep.
“It’s a good thing we found them when we did,” Alderpaw told Needlepaw. “I don’t think they would have survived out here much longer.”
Needlepaw murmured agreement. “I wonder what happened to their mother. Do you think a monster got her on the Thunderpath?”
Alderpaw shuddered at the idea. “I’m not sure. But I think we should bring these kits back to camp, where they can be cared for.”
“Great idea,” Needlepaw meowed. “And I think we should give them names. How about Violetkit for this little one?” she continued, stroking the black-and-white kit’s head with the tip of her tail. “I’m picking up the scent of violets; I think their mother must have used some of the leaves for the nest.”
“That’s a good name,” Alderpaw purred. “And I’m going to call this little one . . . Twigkit. She’s as tiny as a twig!”
Needlepaw let out a mrrow of laughter. “Twigkit it is!”
As they rose, preparing to pick up the sleeping kits by their scruff, Needlepaw turned to Alderpaw with a smirk on her face. “When are you going to thank me for leading you into the tunnel?” she asked.
Alderpaw, still concentrating on the kits, gave her a confused stare. “What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Needlepaw looked even more smug. “These kits are what you find in the shadows!”
CHAPTER 23
Alderpaw stood on the ridge, a stiff breeze ruffling his fur, and looked down the slope to where the lake lay glittering in the morning sunshine. He was gripping Twigkit’s scruff in his mouth; the tiny kit was waving her paws around and letting out high-pitched squeaks. Alderpaw gently set her down in the rough grass.
“We’re almost home!” he breathed out.
After they’d left the tunnel, he and Needlepaw had journeyed on until night fell, when they’d made a temporary den near the place where they had seen the Twolegs and eaten their food. Needlepaw had caught a couple of mice, and they had fed the kits again. Now the woods and moorland around the lake stretched in front of them, and before sunhigh they would be back in their own camps.
Needlepaw toiled up to the ridge and stood beside him, letting Violetkit down into the grass next to her sister.
“Made it!” she panted.
“I guess we ought to say good-bye,” Alderpaw began, feeling slightly awkward. “You’ll want to go through RiverClan to get back to your territory—it’s the quickest way.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Needlepaw agreed.
“Uh . . . Needlepaw . . .” Feeling even more awkward, Alderpaw turned to face her. “Maybe you could keep quiet about what happened in the gorge, at least until I’ve had the chance to talk to Bramblestar. I told you, the whole SkyClan thing is kind of a secret.”
He cringed inwardly as he spoke, knowing how unlikely it was that Needlepaw would keep a secret to oblige a ThunderClan cat. He expected her to hiss at him in anger, but she simply stared at him, her mouth clamped shut.
“Okay, then.” Alderpaw realized the best he could hope for was a quick getaway. “If you could just help me get Violetkit onto my back . . .”
Needlepaw’s jaws gaped open at that. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “I’m not leaving the shadow kits here. I helped find them! And which cat says that they’re going to ThunderClan?”
Alderpaw could hardly believe what he was hearing. She has got bees in her brain! “If it weren’t for my dream, and what Sandstorm told me, we never would have found the kits!”
Needlepaw’s neck fur began to rise and she flattened her ears. “If it weren’t for me,” she pointed out, “and my idea to go through the tunnel, you would still be standing in front of that stupid Thunderpath trying to figure out what different way of thinking Sandstorm was meowing about. Are you kidding me?”
Alderpaw felt his own pelt bristling as anger swelled up inside him. “Are you kidding me?” he hissed. Part of him knew that he was wrong to let his fury out on Needlepaw, but he felt so frustrated that he couldn’t help it. “This was my quest in the first place! Besides, do you really think I’d let you take the kits back to ShadowClan, where there aren’t any rules, and apprentices run around thinking up new ways to break the warrior code? I might as well just take them back to the rogues in the gorge.”