“So do I.” Whitefang jumped to his paws.
Hailstar pushed away his fish and sat up. “Let’s do it now.”
“Now?” Cedarpelt’s pelt fluffed up.
“Now.” The RiverClan leader tasted the air. “Before dark.” He turned to Shimmerpelt. “Are you quick enough to lure the dog toward the attack line without being caught?”
Shimmerpelt nodded. Softwing sprang to her paws. “I am, too.”
“Good.” Hailstar glanced around his Clan. “I’ll head the attack patrol. Shellheart, you shadow Shimmerpelt and Softwing.”
Shellheart showed his teeth. “If the dog gets within a whisker of them, I’ll claw its eyes out.”
Hailstar nodded. “Cedarpelt, Whitefang, Rippleclaw, Beetlenose, Oakheart, Ottersplash, Rainflower, and Piketooth, you’ll join Crookedpaw in my patrol.”
Fallowtail stood up. “I want to come, too.”
“Fine.” Hailstar swished his tail as his Clanmates gathered by the entrance; then, with a nod, he pelted out of camp.
Crookedpaw’s heart was racing as they pounded along the track through the reeds. Hailstar led them up the slope and around the camp, doubling back toward the marsh meadow. They skirted the beech copse, which topped a hillock arching from the meadow like a pike’s spine. Brightsky was calling instructions to Graypaw, and Crookedpaw could just see Willowpaw’s ears as she peered over the top of the slope.
“Where are you going?” Her call faded behind them as they crossed the meadow, weaving between the clumps of marsh grass and sedge, their paws splashing over the boggy ground.
Crookedpaw felt Oakheart’s pelt brush his. “Nice plan, Crookedpaw,” he puffed, matching Crookedpaw paw step for paw step as they raced after Hailstar.
“I just hope it works.” Crookedpaw saw Hailstar pull up and swerved to a halt behind him. A Twoleg fence, separating two meadows, was a few tail-lengths away. Beyond it the dog’s fur flashed against the bright green grass as it darted from side to side, barking excitedly.
Hailstar weaved between Shimmerpelt and Softwing. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
Softwing flicked her tail. “Of course!”
Shimmerpelt nodded.
Shellheart padded around them. “I’ll run alongside, keeping up as much I can,” he promised.
Hailstar turned to Crookedpaw. “Have you thought about where the attack party should be?”
Beetlenose flexed his claws. “Why are you letting an apprentice tell warriors what to do?”
“It was his plan.” Hailstar silenced the young tom with a growl.
And if it works, I won’t be an apprentice for long. Crookedpaw pointed to a thicket of young willow trees behind them. “We could climb those. The leaves will hide us.”
“Hide in trees?” Beetlenose narrowed his eyes. “Do you think we’re squirrels?”
“It won’t be for long,” Crookedpaw urged. “And willow’s soft enough to sink your claws in.”
Piketooth was already heading toward the thicket. He leaped smoothly up a slim trunk and clung to one of the branches. It swayed beneath his weight, but he managed to hang on and the lush leaves hid his dark tabby pelt. “It’ll work!” he called.
Fallowtail and Cedarpelt bounded after him.
“Give us time to get ready,” Hailstar told Shimmerpelt and Softwing. “Then lure the dog toward us.”
Crookedpaw raced to the thicket and scrambled up a willow. He sank his claws into the trembling branch. Through the leaves, he could just see the Twoleg fence. As Hailstar scrambled into place, Oakheart teetered along a wobbly branch and leaped across the small gap into Crookedpaw’s tree.
“I hope this works,” he muttered, swaying to keep his balance.
Crookedpaw dug his claws in harder. “It’ll work.” Heart in his throat, he stared at the Twoleg fence and waited for Shimmerpelt and Softwing to begin.
Shimmerpelt slunk forward and slid under the lowest bar of the fence. Softwing’s white fur flashed beside her. Keeping low, the two warriors crept up the field. Beyond them, the dog charged back and forth. Slowing to a halt, Shimmerpelt rested her tail on Softwing’s spine and gave an earsplitting yowl.
Crookedpaw leaned forward, energy bursting beneath his pelt, as the dog skidded to a halt and stared down the field. Its bark faltered, then turned to a menacing growl.
Run!
The dog hurtled down the field. Shimmerpelt spun on her haunches and raced away, Softwing at her side, flying over the grass, their paws hardly touching the ground. Ducking, they shot under the fence and pelted for the willow thicket.
Come on!
The willows shivered as the attack patrol tensed. The dog squeezed under the fence and exploded into the meadow. Shimmerpelt and Softwing ran like rabbits ahead of it. Crookedpaw glimpsed his father’s gray pelt slipping like a shadow through the long grass, keeping pace alongside. A growl rumbled in Rippleclaw’s throat.
“Hush!” Hailstar ordered.
Shimmerpelt and Softwing closed on the thicket, their paws thrumming the ground.
“Take him!” Softwing yowled as they shot beneath the waiting patrol.
“Ready!” Hailstar hissed as the dog neared. “Attack!”
Crookedpaw dropped and landed on his toes, back arched, pelt bushed, lips drawn back as he hissed at the dog. His Clanmates lined up beside him, a wall of spitting rage. The dog yelped and stumbled to a halt. It stared at the cats for a moment. Then, with a yelp of terror, it hurtled away, streaking across the meadow.
Fallowtail shrieked, “It’s heading for the beech copse!”
Willowpaw!
Crookedpaw broke away from the warriors and pelted after the dog. It was taking a line straight for the beeches. Why wasn’t it barking? Crookedpaw willed it to give some warning to Willowpaw and the others. What if they didn’t hear its paw steps? He pelted after it, gaining ground as it jumped over a patch of marshy grass and bolted for the trees.
Crookedpaw’s pads hit the slope. “Willowpaw!”
“Dog!” Owlfur’s panicked yowl sounded from the top. Paws scrabbled on leaves and the copse exploded with shrieks and hisses.
Crookedpaw crested the slope. Graypaw, Owlfur, and Brightsky clung halfway up the beech trunks, staring helplessly down. With a jolt of horror, Crookedpaw spotted Willowpaw. The dog had her cornered, backed up against the roots of a tree. Her eyes were wild as she flailed with her forepaws, hissing in panic.
Crookedpaw dived at the dog. He landed square on its back and sank his teeth deep into its fur. As the dog bucked, howling, beneath him, he leaped off and growled. The dog turned on him, its eyes blazing with fury. Crookedpaw backed away, pelt bushed up. Come on, you fish-brain. Follow me! He swiped at its muzzle, then turned and ran.
The dog pelted after him, barking with rage. Crookedpaw sped down the slope. He could see Cedarpelt and Piketooth racing toward the beech copse as he dived into the long marshy grass. The ground trembled under his paws as the dog pounded after him. Teeth snapped at his tail; hot breath bathed his heels. Pulling at the ground with his claws, Crookedpaw pushed harder, his mind blank as he hurtled blindly on. Suddenly he broke through a wall of fear scent. He’d reached his Clanmates!
“Keep running!” Hailstar screeched.
As Crookedpaw shot past them, the patrol closed ranks behind him and met the dog with a frenzy of claws and teeth. Crookedpaw pulled up, his lungs screaming as he fought to get his breath. Turning, he saw the dog flee. Oakheart led the charge after it. The patrol was driving it toward the fence, back to its home. Yelping in alarm, the dog scrabbled under the lowest bar and fled whimpering up the field.
“You saved my life!” Willowpaw’s yowl made Crookedpaw spin around.