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And I thought about how brilliant it would feel to summon all the cats just by calling them together… Don’t look at me like that; you know I’d never have done something like that. Honestly.

Even if you don’t go up to the Highledge, make sure you stand up and stretch every so often, otherwise you’ll feel like you’ve turned into a lump of stone. A little game of mouse-chase won’t offend the ancestors if it gets really cold. Just don’t send it flying too close to the nursery, like I did, or you’ll wake every kit. They can hear a game going on even when they’re fast asleep! Trust me, the queens won’t thank you for that.

If you hear or see anything suspicious, call out, “Who’s there?” Even if it’s just a cat coming back from the dirtplace, better to be safe than sorry. After all, tonight you’re in charge! The safety of the whole Clan depends on you! Sorry, I’m really not trying to worry you. Let’s hope nothing does happen, because after all you’re not supposed to make any noise during the vigil. Unless there is a raid, in which case you must wake Firestar first, then the warriors. Don’t investigate anything on your own; it’s too risky. Obviously you’re allowed to call for help if you need it. And you can drink if you get thirsty, but you mustn’t eat. Your old mentor will come and tell you when the vigil is over, once the sun is up.

So, does all that sound okay? I haven’t scared you, have I?

Good luck! May StarClan watch over you!

67

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Code Seven

A CAT CANNOT BE MADE DEPUTY

WITHOUT HAVING MENTORED AT LEAST

ONE APPRENTICE.

Our skil s and our knowledge will live forever, thanks to our mentors, who teach the next generation of Clan cats the way of the warrior. But it took a great leader to see that it was not only the apprentice who gained valuable knowledge from the mentor. Being entrusted with an apprentice teaches the mentor how to lead and gain loyalty and respect. For what is a deputy or leader if not a mentor to the whole Clan?

Second in Command

“StarClan, hear me as I make my choice. Acorntail will be the new deputy of WindClan.”

Featherstar stretched out and rested her muzzle lightly on top of Acorntail’s head. Acorntail closed his eyes, swallowing his grief for Pebblefur, the cat who had once been his mentor, and whose death from a strange, agonizing lump in his belly had shocked the Clan.

“Acorntail! Acorntail!” called the cats behind him, but to Acorntail, they sounded flat and disappointed. It was obvious they didn’t want him to be their deputy.

“Good luck, Acorntail,” murmured a voice in his ear. It was Morningcloud, the dark gray she-cat who had made no secret of her surprise when Acorntail was picked for deputy instead of her.

“Thanks,” Acorntail meowed. Behind her, he could see her apprentice Quickpaw glaring at him, his pale ginger face screwed up with indignation. Acorntail wondered if all young cats rewarded their mentors with such fierce loyalty. He hadn’t yet had an apprentice of his own, so he didn’t know what it would be like to train a new warrior and to watch him or her develop from bumbling kit to strong, skillful fighting cat.

Morningcloud padded back to Quickpaw, and Acorntail heard the young cat hiss, “It should have been you!”

The she-cat quieted him with a flick of her tail. “Maybe one day,” she murmured softly.

“Acorntail, you need to sort out the patrols for today,” Featherstar prompted. Her tone was almost apologetic, as if she didn’t want to remind him of his duties.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Acorntail stammered. “Gorseclaw, Sheeptail, and Cloversplash, you can go on hunting patrol.”

Cloversplash, a lightly built dark brown she-cat with a white flash on her nose shaped exactly like a cloverleaf, stopped him.

“We went on hunting patrol this morning. We should have a training session with our apprentices now.”

Acorntail felt as if the three apprentices attached to these warriors were looking at him with a mixture of scorn and pity. He ducked his head. “Oh, yes, of course, training. Well, maybe you could take the evening hunting patrol?”

69

“Sure,” mewed Thistlepaw, Sheeptail’s apprentice. “We’re always in the mood for chasing rabbits all over the place after fighting all afternoon.”

Acorntail’s fur prickled with embarrassment. Why didn’t he think of that? Why was he being such a flea-brain?

“Right, okay. Morningcloud, could you and Quickpaw do a hunting patrol instead?”

Morningcloud put her head on one side. “On our own?” she questioned.

“Er, no. I’ll come with you,” Acorntail decided hastily. He glanced at Featherstar, who gave a tiny nod. Acorntail felt lower than a worm’s belly. Why did Featherstar make me her deputy when I’m so useless?

“You’ll do fine, Acorntail,” Featherstar told him. She sounded tired and strained, and Acorntail realized how much she must still be grieving for Pebblefur, who had died only three sunrises ago.

They were in her den, a shallow scoop in the sandy earth shielded by a wall of gorse. Sunhigh had just passed, and the hunting patrol was due to leave.

“Prey is running well at the moment. You’ll catch plenty with Morningcloud and Quickpaw.”

Acorntail heard the dismissal in her tone. He backed out of the den. Morningcloud and Quickpaw were waiting for him in the center of the camp. Quickpaw still looked hostile, but the she-cat’s expression was impossible to read. Morningcloud just nodded and let Acorntail lead the way up the slope and out onto the moor.

Acorntail quickly detected the musky tang of rabbit and hurtled off. For the first time since being made deputy, he felt sure of what he was doing, confident in the swiftness of his paws and the prospect of a good piece of fresh-kill for the Clan. The rabbit tried to outrun him but he drew steadily alongside, pounced from running full speed, and brought it down with a muffled snap of neck bones. He lifted his head and looked around. Morningcloud was racing after a young rabbit, her tail bouncing as she tore across the warm grass, and Quickpaw was sniffing the ground as if he had picked up the scent of a plover’s nest. Eggs laid in a scoop of earth were a rare treat for the cats as plovers defended their unhatched young fiercely, but Quickpaw already had a reputation not just for tracking the nests but for carrying the eggs undamaged back to camp, tucked under his chin. Acorntail felt a little pebble of worry in his stomach dissolve. His Clan was the best by far, and it was an honor to be their deputy.

He stiffened. There was another scent on the air, not rabbit or freshly laid eggs, but feline. The breeze was carrying it from the direction of Fourtrees and the border with ThunderClan. What did those mangy tree-dwellers want now? They were far too slow and fat to catch WindClan’s prey, so why would they even try?

His fur bristling, Acorntail shoved his rabbit under a gorse bush and trotted toward the border. The scent grew stronger.

As he crested a rise close to the edge of WindClan territory, he saw three ThunderClan cats walking along the border, barely a whisker-length from trespassing.

“Did you want something?” he growled.

The biggest ThunderClan cat shook his head. “Just doing a patrol,” he replied indifferently.