Outcast

Jaypaw followed her, thankful to feel more solid ground beneath his paws. He was surprised that Breezepaw hadn’t made some sarcastic comment about his misstep. But Breezepaw was a Clan cat; maybe he felt a kind of loyalty to support any Clan cat against the Tribe.

Not that he stood up for me, Jaypaw thought sourly. That would be too much to expect.

Wind buffeted Jaypaw in the face, telling him they had reached the top of the ridge. There were so many new scents that he couldn’t begin to sort them all out.

“This is awesome!” Hollypaw gasped. “I can see the whole of the lake and all the territories from here.” She bounced up to Jaypaw and gave him a nudge with her head. “Down there is a stream with trees growing around it, where RiverClan has its camp. And beyond that is dark pine forest—that’s ShadowClan’s territory. I can even see the Gathering island, and the tree-bridge… It looks so tiny from up here!”

“Over this way are the woods where we live.” Lionpaw joined Jaypaw on his other side. “I bet we could see the hollow if we were here in leaf-bare. And then there’s open moorland where WindClan live. We can see everything!”

“WindClan look at this all the time.” Breezepaw had padded up behind them. “Our territory has loads of great views.”

Annoying furball, Jaypaw thought.

“Do you remember the first time we stood here?” Jaypaw scented Brambleclaw a little way away, with Squirrelflight, Crowfeather, and Tawnypelt.

“I’ll never forget it,” Squirrelflight replied. “It was night, and all the cats of StarClan were reflected in the lake.”

“I can’t believe how brave you were,” Night put in. “You traveled so far to find a new home, without even knowing where you were going.”

“StarClan helped us,” Squirrelflight murmured.

“And the Tribe of Endless Hunting would do the same for you,” Tawnypelt pointed out, “if the Tribe of Rushing Water ever had to leave the mountains.”

“Leave?” Night sounded alarmed. “We could never leave and nor could the spirits of our ancestors. We belong too much to the mountains.”

Jaypaw wasn’t sure she was right. If the Clan cats failed to drive out the intruders, the Tribe, and the spirits of its ancestors, might have to face a journey of their own.

Chapter 15

Lionpaw stood beside his sister, gazing down at the lake and the familiar Clan territories. A ripple of excitement pulsed through him as he turned his back on his home and saw for the first time a wide stretch of unknown country.

“What are we waiting for?” he complained to Hollypaw.

“Why can’t we keep going?”

“Didn’t you hear Brambleclaw?” his sister meowed. “He told us all to rest, and he said we could hunt if we want to eat.”

Lionpaw had been so focused on their journey that he hadn’t noticed his father giving the order. His forepaws tore up the short grass of the ridge. “I don’t want to sit around. We’ve hardly started.”

“It’s the traveling herbs giving you all that energy,” Hollypaw mewed practically. “The mountains won’t go away.”

She turned with a flick of her tail and began to stalk toward a gorse bush, her ears and whiskers alert for signs of prey.

Lionpaw’s paws were sore from the stiff climb up the ridge, but he had never felt so alive, so eager to keep traveling. In front of him, dark forest covered the downward slope, and beyond it Lionpaw could see flat green stretches like the grass at the horseplace. It was sliced through by Thunderpaths and dotted with Twoleg nests—some of them close together, whole clusters of red stone dens.

Lionpaw bounded over the short, springy grass to a rocky outcrop, the highest part of the ridge. At the top of the rocks, wind flattened his fur along his sides. He felt as powerful as a warrior of LionClan! If he stretched out a paw, he could blot out whole Twoleg nests. The biggest Thunderpath looked as thin as a strand of bramble or a twig that he could snap with his teeth.

I could run farther than a hare! I could fight the fiercest fox that ever lived. Spotting the dark gray stain that hovered on the horizon, he added, I could climb the highest mountain faster than an eagle could fly.

He wondered if the other cats felt like this. When he looked down at his traveling companions dozing peacefully below him, he suspected that they didn’t.

Lionpaw strained his ears to pick up Tigerstar’s voice in the sighing of the wind and looked for the dark tabby shape in the shadows cast by rocks and bushes. This was exactly how Tigerstar had told him he should feel, as if his enemies were no bigger than beetles. But there was no trace of the former warrior. All these turbulent feelings seemed to come from inside Lionpaw himself.

“Lionpaw! We’re waiting for you.”

His father’s voice made him jump. The other cats had finished resting and were getting to their paws.