Crowfeather's Trial

“Remember the cute stoats that didn’t look dangerous?” Crowfeather nudged Hootpaw’s shoulder. “They—”

He broke off at the sound of roaring, faint at first, but soon growing louder. Glaring yellow eyes cast their beams across the surface of the Thunderpath, and the cats crouched at the edge as the monster growled past on its round black paws. Their fur was buffeted by the wind of its passing as they backed away from it, almost choking on the acrid air.

“That’s a monster?” Hootpaw asked, watching the huge creature as it disappeared into the distance.

“Yes,” Gorsetail told him. “And that’s why Thunderpaths are dangerous. Monsters like that have killed cats.”

Crowfeather thought Hootpaw looked too excited to be taking his mentor’s words seriously. His eyes were wide and sparkling, and he was bouncing up and down on all four paws.

“I’ve seen a monster!” he exclaimed. “Cool! Wait till I tell Featherpaw and the others.”

Crowfeather shot the ’paw a withering glance, and Hootpaw ceased bouncing, abruptly sitting down and casting a nervous lick over his chest fur.

Crowfeather rolled his eyes. “If you’re quite finished… Okay, let’s assume that Nightcloud made it this far. We need to pick up her scent trail again. Let’s work along the edge of the Thunderpath in both directions. And you,” he added to Hootpaw, “will not put one paw off the grass, or I’ll see to it that you do all the elders’ ticks for the next three moons.”

“Right,” Gorsetail added. “And no hunting patrols.”

The apprentice’s eyes stretched wide again, this time with horror at the thought. He looked even more scared of the threats than he had been of the monster. Checking on him, Crowfeather noticed that he kept well away from the Thunderpath, his nose busily probing into the grass.

It was Hootpaw who found the trace they were looking for. “Here! Over here!” he squealed.

Breezepelt was the first to reach him, sniffing eagerly at the place where Hootpaw pointed. “He’s right. That’s Nightcloud’s scent.” His amber eyes glowed with happiness and relief. “The foxes didn’t get her.”

Crowfeather bounded along the edge of the Thunderpath and tasted the scent for himself. Relief flowed over him as he recognized not only Nightcloud’s scent, but a trace of Yew’s, too.

“Yew’s scent is here!” he announced triumphantly. “He did meet Nightcloud!”

“So where did she go from here?” Heathertail asked.

Although the cats searched for a long time, they couldn’t find any more traces of Nightcloud’s scent. Breezepelt was getting more and more nervous, tearing up the grass with his claws. Crowfeather’s frustration was peaking when he suddenly realized what the problem was.

“Yew said that Nightcloud went into the Twolegplace,” he meowed. “We’re searching on the wrong side of the Thunderpath.”

“Into the Twolegplace?” Breezepelt’s tone was abrasive. “She would never have done that!”

Crowfeather flicked his ear irritably. “Normally, no,” he agreed, “but she was injured, too severely for Yew to help her. He said he told her to go into the Twolegplace for help.”

Breezepelt looked dubious. “She’d never trust a Twoleg to make her better,” he insisted.

“She might have,” Crowfeather countered, “if it was her only chance. Remember, she was far from home, separated by foxes from any medicine cat — never mind Kestrelflight.”

Breezepelt turned and stared at the lights beyond the Thunderpath.

“I know it seems weird,” Heathertail responded, resting her tail-tip on Breezepelt’s shoulder, “but why would Yew lie to Crowfeather? Besides, Nightcloud might have at least wanted to cross the Thunderpath to escape from the foxes. Let’s go and look.”

After a moment, Breezepelt turned back and nodded his assent.

Relieved, Crowfeather led the cats back to the place where Hootpaw had found Nightcloud’s scent. Lining them up along the edge of the Thunderpath, he mewed, “This shouldn’t be too difficult. Most monsters don’t come out at night. But we still need to be careful. Wait for my order, and when I say run, run!”

“Hootpaw, stay beside me,” Gorsetail added.

The apprentice was quivering with excitement as he waited with his Clanmates. Crowfeather looked carefully in both directions, but there was no sign of a monster, not even a distant roaring. “Okay,” he meowed. “Run!”

He bounded forward, so fast that his paws hardly touched the hard, black surface. Breezepelt and Heathertail were beside him, Gorsetail and Hootpaw a paw step behind. But before they reached the far side, a raucous screeching split the silence of the night. Glaring light swept over them and wind ruffled their fur as the monster swept past, barely a tail-length from their flying paws.

Every cat collapsed, panting, on the other side of the Thunderpath. “Mouse dung!” Gorsetail exclaimed. “I thought we were crow-food for sure.”

Breezepelt sprang to his paws. “Well, we’re fine,” he mewed impatiently. “Let’s carry on looking.”