Yellowfang’s Secret

Molepelt let out an irritable grunt. “You might not think so, when you’ve heard what it is.”

“Go on.”

Molepelt fixed him with an icy green gaze. “A dark force is on its way,” he rasped, “with the power to pierce deep into the heart of ThunderClan. And it will be brought by a ShadowClan medicine cat.”

“What?” Featherpaw’s voice rose to a high-pitched squeak. “That can’t be right. Medicine cats have no enemies, and they don’t cause trouble for other Clans.”

Molepelt ignored his protest. “A long time ago, I was the ShadowClan medicine cat,” he went on. “My Clanmates and I did a great wrong to another Clan—a Clan that belonged in the forest as much as any of us, but was driven out through our selfishness and hard-heartedness. I knew then that what we did was wrong, and I have waited, my heart filled with dread, for the Clans to be punished.”

“Punished? How?” Featherpaw asked hoarsely.

“The time has come!” Molepelt’s green eyes were wide, and he seemed to be gazing into the far distance. “A poison will spring from the heart of ShadowClan, and spread to all the other Clans.” His voice became a soft, eerie wailing. “A storm of blood and fire will sweep the forest!”

Featherpaw gazed at the old cat in horror. Before he could speak, a powerful black-and-white tom pushed his way through a clump of ferns and padded up to the holly bush.

“Molepelt, what are you doing?” he demanded. “Why are you spilling all this to a ThunderClan apprentice? You don’t know that this is the time!”

Molepelt snorted. “You were once my apprentice, Hollowbelly, and don’t you forget it! I know I’m right.”

Hollowbelly glanced at Featherpaw, then back at Molepelt. “Things are different now,” he meowed.

“What do you mean? What’s going to happen?” Featherpaw asked, his voice shaking.

Hollowbelly ignored him. “There’s no reason to punish ShadowClan,” he continued. “What happened was too long ago. The medicine cat code will keep the Clans safe.”

“You’re a fool, Hollowbelly,” Molepelt growled. “The medicine cat code can do nothing to save the Clans.”

“You don’t know that for sure!” When Molepelt did not respond, Hollowbelly turned to Featherpaw. “Please, say nothing about this,” he meowed. “There is no need to spread alarm, not when the future is lost in mist even to StarClan. Promise me that you won’t tell any of your Clanmates. Promise on the lives of your ancestors!”

Featherpaw blinked. “I promise,” he whispered.

Hollowbelly nodded. “Thank you, Featherpaw. Go well.” Nudging Molepelt to his paws, he led the old medicine cat away into the trees.

Featherpaw gazed after them. After a few heartbeats he scrambled out from underneath the holly bush and staggered into the sunlit clearing. “Even if Molepelt was telling the truth, it makes no sense!” he meowed out loud. “How can ThunderClan be threatened by a ShadowClan medicine cat?”

Chapter 1

“ShadowClan warriors, attack!”

Yellowkit burst out of the nursery and hurtled across the ShadowClan camp. Her littermates, Nutkit and Rowankit, scurried after her.

Nutkit pounced on a pinecone that lay at the foot of one of the pine trees overhanging the clearing. “It’s a WindClan warrior!” he squealed, batting at it with tiny brown paws. “Get out of our territory!”

“Rabbit-chasers!” Rowankit flexed her claws, growling. “Prey-stealers!”

Yellowkit leaped at a straying tendril from the brambles that encircled the camp; her paws got tangled in it and she lost her balance, rolling over in a flurry of legs and tail. Scrambling to her feet, she crouched in front of the bramble, her teeth bared in a growl. “Trip me up, would you?” she squeaked, raking her claws across its leaves. “Take that!”

Nutkit began to scan the clearing, peering around with narrowed amber eyes. “Can you see any more WindClan warriors on our territory?” he asked.

Yellowkit spotted a group of elders sharing tongues in a shaft of sunlight. “Yes! Over there!” she yowled.

Nutkit and Rowankit followed her as she raced across the hard brown earth and skidded to a halt in front of the elders.

“WindClan warriors!” Yellowkit began, trying to sound as dignified as her Clan leader, Cedarstar. “Do you agree that ShadowClan is the best of all the Clans? Or do you need to feel our claws in your fur to persuade you?”

Littlebird, her ginger pelt glowing in the warm light, sat up, giving the other elders an amused glance. “No, you’re far too fierce for us,” she meowed. “We don’t want to fight.”

“Do you promise to let our warriors cross your territory whenever they want?” Rowankit growled.

“We promise.” Silverflame, the mother of Yellowkit’s mother, Brightflower, flattened herself to the ground and blinked fearfully up at the kits.

Lizardfang cringed away from the three kits, shuffling his skinny brown limbs. “ShadowClan is much stronger than us.”

“Yes!” Yellowkit bounced up in the air. “ShadowClan is the best!” In her excitement she leaped on top of Nutkit, rolling over and over with him in a knot of gray and brown fur.