“That’s terrible!” Leafpaw pressed her muzzle against Sorreltail’s side.
“It’s thanks to Cinderpelt I survived,” Sorreltail meowed. “Still, it’s all over now. Whatever the Twolegs are doing to us, at least we don’t have Tigerstar to worry about any more.” She spun around, her tail held high in the air. “Come on; let’s get your paws clean. A deathberry poisoning is the last thing the Clan needs right now.”
Dark thoughts flew into Leafpaw’s mind as she followed her friend deeper into the undergrowth. If Tigerstar really was the father of Hawkfrost and Mothwing, then perhaps that trouble wasn’t all over.
The roar of the Twoleg monsters grew louder as they approached the Thunderpath. At last they found a small pool in a hollow where Leafpaw dipped her paws several times and rubbed them on the grass until she was sure all traces of the deathberries were gone. All the same, she knew she would feel uneasy about licking her paws for many days to come.
“There,” she mewed. She had to raise her voice to make herself heard above the growling of the monster. “That should be OK. And look, there’s a huge clump of chervil over there. Cinderpelt will—”
She broke off with a terrified gasp as the roar of the monster grew suddenly louder, as if the whole sky were splitting apart with thunder. A vast, glittering shape broke through the undergrowth, crushing the chervil she had just spotted. Sorreltail let out a startled yowl and fled for the nearest tree, clawing her way up the bark and coming to rest in the first fork, her fur fluffed up until she looked twice her size.
Leafpaw flattened herself in a hollow in the ground. She watched in frozen horror as the monster seized a half-grown ash tree and ripped it out of the ground with no more effort than she would have taken to dig up a burdock root. It lifted the tree high in the air, turning it in a huge, twisting limb as it stripped off the branches. Debris began to rain down around Leafpaw, pattering on the ground like hail.
“Leafpaw!” Sorreltail’s yowl cut through her fear. Her friend had leaped down from the tree, perhaps realising there was no safety there any more. She pelted across the open ground and nudged Leafpaw to her paws. “Run!”
Leafpaw gave the monster one more terrified glance, to see it beginning to slice the tree into pieces. Then she was dashing through the forest behind Sorreltail, blundering into brambles and through deep troughs of mud in their mad rush to escape.
When the roar had died to a faint rumble behind them, the two cats halted, panting.
“They’re taking more and more of our forest,” Sorreltail gasped. “Soon there’ll be nowhere left for us.”
Leafpaw stood trembling, looking back and half expecting the monster to burst through the trees in pursuit. “I hate them!” she spat. “They’ve no right to come here. What did we ever do to harm them?”
“That’s Twolegs for you,” Sorreltail mewed. She was growing calmer, the fur on her shoulders beginning to lie flat again. After a moment, she touched Leafpaw’s ear with her tail-tip. “Come on, let’s go and look for herbs near the RiverClan border. We’ll get as far from those horrible monsters as we can.”
Leafpaw nodded, suddenly too scared to speak. She followed the tortoiseshell warrior through the forest, grief surging through her at the thought of the peaceful places that would never be peaceful again, the trees that would never again grow green in newleaf and cast their shade on the forest. StarClan must be grieving too, she realised, especially if they could do nothing to stop the destruction.
“What are we going to do?” Sorreltail asked after a few moments. “I can’t remember the last time I was full-fed . . . or any other cat in the Clan. Look at Ferncloud. She blames herself because Larchkit died, but it’s not her fault at all.”
Leafpaw thought of gentle Ferncloud, grieving over her dead kit, and Dustpelt’s misery as he tried in vain to comfort her. She thought of Dappletail, dead because hunger had forced her to eat the tainted rabbit. Frostfur had become too feeble to leave the elders’ den, and she had started to cough. Cinderpelt was waiting every day for an outbreak of greencough, which could so easily turn into fatal blackcough.
“Sometimes I think the Twolegs won’t stop until we’re all dead,” Leafpaw mewed softly.
Sorreltail let out a murmur of agreement. “It’s as if StarClan has abandoned us. Leafpaw, haven’t they spoken to you, or to Cinderpelt? Why didn’t they warn us? Don’t our warrior ancestors care about us anymore?”
Leafpaw shut her eyes. She desperately wanted to tell her friend that StarClan had prophesied all this, though not to the medicine cats or their apprentices. But she had promised to keep the secret of the chosen cats, and if she was to break her word it must be to tell Firestar or Cinderpelt before any other cat.
And more than this, she was starting to think that wherever the cats had been sent by StarClan, they weren’t coming back. It was days now since she had been able to reach Squirrelpaw in her mind. Leafpaw’s heart ached at the thought that she might never see her sister or Brambleclaw again. There was no point in dangling hope in front of Sorreltail and then snatching it away.
As they approached the RiverClan border, where the ground sloped down to the river and the Twoleg bridge, Leafpaw began to feel calmer. The sound of the Twoleg monsters did not reach this part of the territory yet; everything was so peaceful that she could almost imagine the forest was just as it used to be.
Tasting the air, she caught the scent of rabbit, and spotted the creature hopping between one clump of bracken and the next. Her paws itched to pursue it, but she remembered Firestar’s order and Dappletail’s dreadful death.
“Infuriating, isn’t it?” Sorreltail muttered, with an angry flick of her tail. “I’d swear the stupid creatures are laughing at us.”
Leafpaw nodded, water flooding her mouth at the prey-scent. She couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before they were all so desperate that, like Dappletail, they would take the risk of eating the rabbits.
Just ahead of her, Sorreltail dropped into the hunter’s crouch. Cautiously, so she didn’t disturb her friend’s concentration, Leafpaw edged her way forward until she could see what Sorreltail had spotted: a squirrel, moving slowly across an open space. Yes! Leafpaw thought. Prey that was fit to eat, to take back to the camp for Ferncloud and Frostfur . . .
Sorreltail leaped. Though she made no sound, the squirrel fled a heartbeat before the warrior’s front paws hit the spot where it had been. Sorreltail let out a yowl of frustration and hurled herself after it as it made for the nearest tree.
“Sorreltail, no!” Leafpaw called out as she realised that the tree was on the other side of the border.
But Sorreltail was deafened by the hunger in her belly, fixed on chasing the squirrel. As it ran up the tree she launched herself up and managed to snag a claw in its tail, but the squirrel twitched itself free. Sorreltail fell to the ground, spitting fury.
“Come back!” Leafpaw cried. “You’re on RiverClan territory!”
Sorreltail scrambled to her paws, bits of grass clinging to her fur. “Fox dung!” she snarled. “I nearly had it.”
Before Leafpaw could call to her again, a familiar scent swept over her. A tabby shape appeared from behind the tree, and as Sorreltail spun round a huge paw slapped her to the ground and pinned her there.
“What’s this?” Hawkfrost growled. “ThunderClan cats trespassing on our territory?”
CHAPTER 21
Sorreltail glared up at Hawkfrost. Twisting under his paw, she raked her claws over his leg, but days of hunger had taken the edge off her fighting skills. The warrior didn’t flinch as he cuffed her over the ear with his other forepaw.
“You’re coming with me to Leopardstar,” he snarled. “Let her decide what to do. ThunderClan have no right to ignore our borders.”
“Let her go!” Leafpaw meowed. “She’s only a couple of tail-lengths inside your border.”
Hawkfrost gave her an unfriendly stare. “Oh, it’s you again.”
“Yes, me again.” Leafp
aw drew herself up and met Hawkfrost’s icy blue eyes, summoning all her courage. “You were glad enough that I was there when Reedpaw had his accident.” Persuasively, she added, “You owe ThunderClan a favour. Let Sorreltail go.”
Hawkfrost’s lip curled in a sneer. “Clans do not owe each other favours. The warrior code says we should respect boundaries, which she”—he gave Sorreltail a contemptuous flick with his tail—“clearly does not.”
Leafpaw felt her fur bristle and her muscles tense, as if her body were telling her to fight with Hawkfrost. Together she and Sorreltail had a chance of beating him . . . But she forced herself to stay calm and not move from where she stood on the border. She could just imagine what Firestar would say if he found out she had attacked a cat from another Clan on his own territory.
It was hard to beg such an obnoxious cat, but she had to make one more effort. “Please—it’s not as if she was doing any harm.”
Hawkfrost’s blue eyes were chips of ice. “She was stealing prey.”
“She was not!” Leafpaw’s eyes flew wide. “That was a ThunderClan squirrel.”
Sorreltail, who had been lying limp under Hawkfrost’s paw, suddenly heaved herself upwards. Hawkfrost let out a screech as her teeth met in his leg. For a moment they writhed together on the ground, but for all her bravery Sorreltail was no match for Hawkfrost’s size and strength. Soon she lay panting under his paws again.
“OK, take me to Leopardstar,” she spat. “But I’ll fight you every step of the way.”
Hawkfrost looked bored. “Fine. You do that.”
Desperately Leafpaw looked around; why wasn’t Firestar or Cinderpelt here? They might be able to persuade Hawkfrost. There were no cats at all on her own side of the border, but she caught sight of a flash of gold in the reeds on the other side of the river, and a heartbeat later saw Mothwing running across the Twoleg bridge. The RiverClan apprentice bounded up the slope and halted beside her brother.
“What’s going on?”
“You can see for yourself.” Hawkfrost tapped Sorreltail with his tail. “I’ve caught a trespasser. I’m going to take her to Leopardstar.”
“She didn’t mean it,” Leafpaw pleaded, feeling more hopeful now that Mothwing had turned up. “She was chasing a squirrel—one of ours—and she didn’t realise that she’d crossed the border.”
Mothwing looked from her brother to Leafpaw and back again. “Let her go,” she meowed. “It’s not important. She didn’t catch anything. If you take her to Leopardstar you could start a war between our Clans.”
Hawkfrost fixed his cold blue stare on his sister. “And why is that such a bad thing? Every cat knows that ThunderClan is in trouble. This could be our chance to move in and take their territory.”
Leafpaw gasped. Was that what Hawkfrost really wanted?
Mothwing returned her brother’s stare. “Don’t be mouse-brained,” she mewed frostily. “Remember what Leopardstar owes Firestar. He gave the Clan back to her when Tigerstar tried to take over. She’ll never go to war against him.”
“She will for a good enough reason,” Hawkfrost argued. “This isn’t about old favours; it’s about the warrior code. The borders between the Clans have to count for something!” His voice was becoming high-pitched with desperation, and he took a deep breath before growling, “And you watch your tongue, Mothwing. Remember you could be talking to the next Clan deputy.”
“What?” Leafpaw blurted out. “What about Mistyfoot?”
“Mistyfoot is a coward,” Hawkfrost snarled. “She couldn’t face what’s happening in the forest, so she ran away.”
“No cat has seen her for a whole day,” Mothwing explained to Leafpaw, her eyes wide and anxious. “Not since she went to patrol the border near Fourtrees. We don’t know what has happened to her.”
“Even if she comes back, she won’t be deputy anymore,” Hawkfrost growled. “Clan deputies can’t just go wandering off when they feel like it.”
Leafpaw’s head spun. She couldn’t believe it. Mistyfoot was no coward; besides, she had assumed that RiverClan wasn’t affected by what was happening to the other three Clans, because their territory was the only one the Twolegs hadn’t touched. But now Mistyfoot had disappeared.
How many more had gone? Had all the Clans lost cats? A chill crept bone-deep into Leafpaw; these disappearances couldn’t be related to the prophecy from StarClan. Even if the first cats had failed, StarClan wouldn’t send out more and more to a nameless fate. Somehow the Twolegs and their monsters must be responsible.
She said nothing of this to Mothwing and Hawkfrost, and to her relief Sorreltail did not tell them about the disappearance of Cloudtail and Brightheart. The less RiverClan knew about ThunderClan’s affairs the better, especially if Hawk frost was spoiling for a fight because he thought ThunderClan was weak.
Instead, it was Mothwing who broke the silence. “You know, you’re a fool, Hawkfrost,” she mewed.
Her brother bristled. “What do you mean?”
“If you want to bring down ThunderClan, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
“And you know the right way, do you?” Hawkfrost sneered. “Yes, I do.” Mothwing’s tone was cold. Leafpaw could hardly believe what she was hearing; she suddenly felt as if she didn’t know this cat at all.
“Go on, then, enlighten me.”
Mothwing turned her head to give her shoulder a couple of quick licks. “Be kind to them. Make them grateful to us. That should keep them quiet while they get weaker and weaker. Why fight and risk injuries to our Clan? Let the Twolegs do the job for us. Then we move in and take their territory.”
Hawkfrost’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You could have a point,” he grunted. “OK.” He stepped back and let Sorreltail get up. “Leave, and don’t come back.”
Sorreltail shook herself and glared at him before taking the few steps that carried her back into her own territory. Leafpaw studied her closely as she crossed the border, but apart from a couple of superficial scratches, Hawkfrost hadn’t hurt her.
“I’ll tell Firestar what you said,” she meowed to Mothwing, striving hard to keep her voice level. “He’ll take it up with Leopardstar at the next Gathering.”
Two pairs of eyes, ice blue and amber, turned their gaze on her.
“Sure, tell him,” Hawkfrost invited. “Even if he believes you, what can he do about it? Don’t you think Leopardstar will back me against a ThunderClan cat?”
Sorreltail nudged Leafpaw’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go back to camp.”
Leafpaw turned away, her tail drooping. She had liked Mothwing and trusted her, and now it seemed that her friend had betrayed her. Even if Mothwing’s first loyalty was to her Clan, Leafpaw hadn’t thought that she would be so coldly calculating.
She had not gone more than a few fox-lengths when she heard Mothwing calling her name in a low voice. She stopped and looked back. Mothwing was standing on the border; Hawkfrost was nowhere to be seen.
“Leafpaw!” Mothwing beckoned with her tail.
“Ignore her,” Sorreltail muttered. “Who needs friends like that?”
“Leafpaw, please . . .” Mothwing’s voice was pleading now. “Let me explain.”
Leafpaw hesitated, then took a few reluctant steps back towards the border. Sorreltail padded close beside her; Leafpaw sensed her tension and winced at the look of disgust she shot towards the RiverClan she-cat.
“I had to say that in front of Hawkfrost,” Mothwing explained urgently. “Don’t you see? He’d never have let your friend go otherwise.”
Leafpaw felt relief flood over her. She hadn’t wanted to think badly of Mothwing, not when they shared the bond of all medicine cats.
She could see her own relief reflected in the RiverClan cat’s eyes as Mothwing added, “You do believe me, don’t you? We are still friends?”
“Of course we are.” Leafpaw stepped forwards to touch noses with Mothwing. She ignored a sceptical snort from Sorreltail just behind her. “Thank you.”
&n
bsp; Behind Mothwing, at the foot of the slope, she saw Hawkfrost emerge from the shelter of a bush and lope easily across the Twoleg bridge. She shivered when she remembered the cruel ambition in his eyes. Surely no other cat but Tigerstar had been so greedy for power?
“Mothwing,” she murmured, unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, “who was your father? Was it Tigerstar?”
Shock flared in Mothwing’s amber eyes. For a moment she hesitated, and then replied, “Yes.”
CHAPTER 22
This was madness, sheer madness. The words echoed to the thud of Stormfur’s paws as he allowed Crag and another cave-guard to escort him back into the cave behind the waterfall. The other forest cats were ushered in close behind him, with more guards on either side, while Talon and his fellow outlaws brought up the rear. A patrol had spotted them as soon as they reached the river; Stormfur was pretty sure they were prisoners now rather than guests, and he did not know what the Tribe cats would do to them. They had fought their way out two nights before, so it was reasonable to expect hostility. Talon and his friends were taking an even bigger risk, because they had been ordered not to come back until Sharptooth was dead.
The first rays of glimmering moonlight were creeping through the sheet of water at the cave entrance, and soon Sharptooth would be on the prowl. Stormfur was not even sure that he could make the Tribe listen to Squirrelpaw’s plan. As he sought inside himself for courage, Silverstream’s scent drifted faintly around him. Stormfur glanced back, wondering if Feathertail could sense it, too. His sister was just behind him, her blue eyes troubled. But none of them had flinched when the cave-guards swarmed out from behind the rocks, as well hidden as ever by their mud-streaked fur. Stormfur felt humbled by his friends’ bravery, by their loyalty to him and to the warrior code even this far away from the forest. He knew they would do whatever it took to help the Tribe, or die trying.
Stoneteller had clearly been warned of their arrival, and was waiting for them in the middle of the main cave. Under his coating of mud, Stormfur could see that a slice of his fur had been torn away in the fight against Sharptooth, and he had a raw wound across one ear.