The Apprentice's Quest

Alderpaw felt cold from his ears to his tail-tip. Guiltily he realized that if Needlepaw was only pretending to have overheard, he had given away more than he should have.

However much she knows, he thought with a shiver, it’s enough to cause a problem. And that gives her power. She’ll have to stay with us now, whether we want her or not.

“Hey, look at that.” Cherryfall’s mew cut into Alderpaw’s thoughts. He looked up ahead and saw that the group was now very close to the big yellow Twoleg den he had seen in the distance.

“Let’s go explore it!” Sparkpaw suggested with a bounce of excitement.

Molewhisker shook his head. “It’s a Twoleg thing, and it’s better to stay away from Twolegs.”

“I’m guessing that it’s a barn like the one at the horseplace,” Sandstorm told them. “This must be a farm—look, you can see more

Twoleg dens just beyond it. My advice would be to keep well away from it.”

Alderpaw agreed, but before the cats had gone much farther, their path was blocked by a tall fence. It was made of interlinked tendrils of some hard, shiny stuff, topped by fearsome-looking spikes.

“Now what do we do?” Cherryfall asked, dismayed.

The fence stretched into the distance on either side; Alderpaw realized it would take far too long to go around it. While he was hesitating, Sparkpaw stepped forward and sniffed at the bottom of the fence.

“Maybe we could try going under it,” she suggested.

“What are we, rabbits?” Needlepaw muttered, while

Sparkpaw scraped experimentally at the earth where the fence disappeared into the grass.

“No,” she reported, with a discouraged shake of her head. “It seems to go a long way down into the ground.”

“Then maybe there’s a hole that we can fit through,” Molewhisker mewed.

Alderpaw led the way along the fence for a few fox-lengths, but everywhere it was strong and intact. Only a mouse could have slipped through the gaps between the tendrils.

“There’s only one thing to do,” Needlepaw announced at last. “We’ll have to go over it.”

“You’ve grown wings, have you?” Sparkpaw muttered sarcastically.

Needlepaw ignored her. “I’ll go first,” she meowed. “It doesn’t look that hard. Watch.”

Every cat watched nervously as she began to climb, fitting her paws into the narrow spaces between the shiny tendrils. The fence bobbed and swayed alarmingly, but Needlepaw kept going until she reached the very top, her paws balancing between the spikes.

“Be careful!” Sandstorm called out.

For a moment Alderpaw was certain that Needlepaw would impale herself on the sharp spikes. But then, bunching and stretching her muscles, she flung herself off the top of the bobbing fence and landed neatly on the other side.

“Easy!” she called out, giving her shoulder a smug lick.

“If she can do it, so can I,” Sparkpaw mewed, swarming up the fence the same way

Needlepaw had, then leaping gracefully down on the far side.

Cherryfall went next, more slowly but without mishap, and Molewhisker followed her.

“Your turn now, Alderpaw,” Sandstorm told him. “I’ll go last.”

Alderpaw’s belly squirmed as he approached the fence. He tried not to think of the spikes tearing into him, or of looking a fool in front of his Clanmates—and Needlepaw.

To begin with he climbed slowly, but he made himself think of the cats in his vision, crying out in anguish and far more terrified than he was now. I have to do this. They need me.

More determined, he managed to pick up the pace, and he found it wasn’t as hard as it looked to haul himself upward with his paws slotting into the narrow gaps. The only really frightening moment was when he clung to the top of the swaying fence. For a moment his belly felt queasy; then he launched himself into the air and thumped down beside his sister.

I did it!

Sandstorm had already begun to climb. She made it quickly to the top, but clinging between the spikes, she hesitated. Her paws slipped, and she fell, crashing down to the ground and rolling over.

“Sandstorm!” Molewhisker’s yowl was full of panic as he lurched forward, dropping to his belly to stop her momentum.

The older cat fell against him and then lay still, panting. Alderpaw rushed over to her, with his other Clanmates hard on his paws. “Are you okay?” he asked anxiously.

Sandstorm sat up. “I’m fine,” she rasped, as if for a moment she had trouble breathing. “I just felt like being a bird.”

“Well, don’t try it again,” Alderpaw responded.

Sandstorm rested for a little while, and then the cats set out again, still heading for the big Twoleg den. Walking beside Sandstorm, Alderpaw noticed that her wound looked bigger, and drops of blood were oozing out of it.

“Did you catch your shoulder on one of the spikes?” he asked her.

Sandstorm shrugged. “I might have scraped it. Don’t fuss, Alderpaw; it’s fine. If you want to worry,” she added, “you might worry about that enormous beast up ahead!”