Outcast

Tawnypelt led the way out of the nursery, with Brambleclaw hard on her paws. Lionpaw paused to look back at the kits. Good-bye, kin, he whispered to himself as he followed his father into the clearing.

Outside the nursery, Blackstar and Tawnypelt were confronting each other.

“What do you mean, you want to go?” the Clan leader demanded.

“You said it was her decision,” Brambleclaw reminded him.

Blackstar lashed his tail but said nothing.

“We might have known,” Russetfur spat. “It just goes to show that she’s not a loyal ShadowClan cat.”

Tawnypelt arched her back. “Don’t you dare call me dis-loyal!”

“Tawnypelt.” The warrior called Rowanclaw padded up beside Tawnypelt and pressed his ginger muzzle against her shoulder. She leaned against him, her fur beginning to lie flat again. Lionpaw remembered that Rowanclaw was her mate, the father of her kits.

“It’s nonsense to say that Tawnypelt isn’t loyal,” he meowed to Russetfur. “I haven’t forgotten all the Tribe cats did for us, even if you have. They deserve our help.” He bent his head to give Tawnypelt a gentle lick between the ears.

“I’m proud of you for going,” he mewed. “And don’t worry about the kits. I’ll look after them.”

Tawnypelt let out a soft purr. “Thanks, Rowanclaw.” Turning to Brambleclaw, she meowed more briskly, “Shall we go?”

Lionpaw thought his father looked stunned, as if he hadn’t expected to get her agreement so easily.

“There’s no time to lose,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “Not when we still have to make the long journey to the mountains.”

“True,” Brambleclaw murmured. “Thank you, Blackstar,” he added to the ShadowClan leader. “I’m sure StarClan will approve of what you have done today.”

Blackstar nodded, looking awkward; Lionpaw knew very well he hadn’t intended things to turn out like this. Russetfur just let out an annoyed hiss and turned away, lashing her tail.

Excitement flooded through him once more as he raced back through the forest with Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt.

He felt sure that Squirrelflight and Hollypaw must have had the same success in WindClan. Cats from all Clans were uniting to help the Tribe! This was even better than just going to visit the mountains. Maybe he would be part of another incredible story, and one day the Clans would tell it to their kits, just as they told the story of the Great Journey.

Chapter 12

Hollypaw stood on the bank of the stream that formed the border with WindClan, not far from the stepping stones. Wind from the moor slicked her fur to her sides, bringing the scent of cats and rabbits and the tough moorland grass.

Beside her, Squirrelflight waited, the tip of her tail twitching. Hollypaw could understand why her mother was uneasy.

The WindClan border was still a sensitive area, after all the trouble when the WindClan kits went missing.

Her thoughts fled back to the tunnels and the surging underground river. She and the other apprentices had barely made it out alive with the kits. Hollypaw hoped that the tunnels would stay hidden for a long time, so there would be no more chance of misunderstandings.

“They’re coming.” Squirrelflight was tasting the air.

A couple of heartbeats later a WindClan patrol appeared over the brow of the hill and headed toward them: Tornear, Whitetail, and Breezepaw. Hollypaw’s belly began to churn as the apprentice charged toward her, streaking past his Clanmates. His pelt bristled; he was obviously ready for a border skirmish, but his stride faltered when he recognized Hollypaw.

“Oh, it’s you,” he muttered, coming to a halt on the opposite bank of the stream.

“That’s right.” Hollypaw couldn’t forget what a pain he’d been in the tunnels, complaining and arguing the whole time.

“I just can’t keep away.”

She flinched as Squirrelflight flicked her ear with her tail.

“Breezepaw!” Whitetail called, as she and Tornear caught up to the apprentice. “Come away from there.”

Breezepaw bared his teeth in the beginning of a snarl, then lowered his head and padded away, muttering something under his breath.

“Why are you here?” Tornear asked; his voice was cool but not hostile.

“We need to speak to Crowfeather,” Squirrelflight explained.

Both Tornear and Whitetail bristled, their neck fur fluffing up as they exchanged suspicious glances.

“It’s about the journey we made to the sun-drown-place,” Squirrelflight added quickly.

“That was a long time ago,” Tornear growled.

“Crowfeather’s memory isn’t that bad,” Squirrelflight retorted tartly. “He’ll hardly have forgotten about it.”

Hollypaw couldn’t understand why the WindClan cats had switched from reserve to hostility, or why her mother was being so sharp in return. Why should the WindClan cats be so tense when Crowfeather was mentioned?

“I can’t just go and fetch Crowfeather,” Whitetail meowed. “You’ll have to talk to Onestar first.”