Hailstar turned his gaze on the young warrior. “The new boundary will need re-marking for many moons to come,” he reminded him. “You’ll get your turn to leave your scent soon enough.”
“Retaking an old boundary’s not the same as marking an existing one!” Beetlenose glared at Crookedjaw. “Why does he get to go when he’s been a warrior for less than a moon? He didn’t even have an assessment. How do we know he can even climb the rocks?”
Crookedjaw leaped forward, bristling. “I climbed Sunningrocks when I was still an apprentice,” he growled.
Shellheart stepped between them. “Not every warrior can be on every patrol,” he soothed.
Beetlenose darted around Shellheart and squared up to Crookedjaw.
Shellheart leaned close. “It might be better for you to meet Beetlenose’s disappointment with words rather than claws,” he whispered in Crookedjaw’s ear.
Crookedjaw narrowed his eyes. You must put your Clan first. Mapleshade’s words rang in his ears. He smoothed his fur. “I’m lucky to have been chosen,” he confessed. “I’m sorry you won’t be with us tonight, Beetlenose.” The words nearly stuck in his throat but he forced them out for the sake of the Clan. Rainflower was glowering beneath the willow. She hadn’t been chosen, either. “I wish I could have the whole Clan beside me.” Crookedjaw nodded to Piketooth and Cedarpelt. “You taught me everything I know.” His paws pricked. He wasn’t used to making speeches. But if he was going to be leader one day, he’d better to get used to it. He met Beetlenose’s gaze. “And I learned lots just watching you train. Your courage gave me courage and your skill sharpened mine.” Not as much as Mapleshade’s. He dipped his head low. “When I leave my mark tonight, I shall be leaving it in your honor.” He looked up, hoping desperately that his words had soothed his Clanmates’ ruffled pelts.
Beetlenose’s eyes glittered. “Okay,” he conceded.
Oakheart padded past Crookedjaw and halted. “That’s right, Crookedjaw,” he purred. “We are a Clan and when one cat fights, he fights for the whole Clan.”
“Well said, son,” Shellheart meowed.
Crookedjaw felt a surge of pride. Was that a glimmer of respect flashing in Rainflower’s narrowed gaze?
Hailstar flicked his tail. “We leave at moonhigh.”
As the gathering broke up, Crookedjaw headed for the nursery. Joy fizzed beneath his pelt. This would be his first warrior mission. But before he left, he had time to help out with some nursery duties.
He called to the kits, sulking behind their mothers. “Who wants a game of hunt the frog?”
The night heron spiraled up and whirled away downstream as the patrol padded on to the shore. Crookedjaw paused at the water’s edge. The river flowed black and smooth past his paws, lit only by stars and the thinnest scratch of moon. Sunningrocks stood on the far bank, dark against a dark sky, timeless as Highstones.
Hailstar slid into the river. As the water closed silently over his back, his Clanmates followed him in. Crookedjaw let the cool water wrap itself around him, relishing the chill after a long day’s wait. Quieter than trout, the patrol swam the river, hardly disturbing the surface of the water. No ThunderClan lookout would have seen or heard them. They probably would be watching the stepping-stones, alert for a flash of pelt or the sound of paws on stone.
Crookedjaw pushed ahead with long, smooth kicks and reached the shore first. Here the river’s edge was little more than a rock shelf jutting out below Sunningrocks and dropping straight down to the bottom of the river. Crookedjaw pulled himself noiselessly from the water, hopping up onto the stone. Oakheart climbed out beside him while Hailstar and Whitefang waded on to the bank a tail-length downstream. Voleclaw flung a paw over the edge of the rock shelf and hauled himself out with Rippleclaw and Softwing on his tail. Echomist and Owlfur followed and Shellheart brought up the rear. They stood dripping on the bank while Hailstar launched himself up the rock.
“Wait here,” he hissed down. “I’ll check for patrols.”
Crookedjaw gazed up at the starlit sky. He remembered last time he was here, fighting Bluepaw and Snowpaw. This time he wasn’t going to be chased from his own territory.
Hailstar’s head appeared over the top. “All clear.”
With a nod Shellheart leaped up the sheer rock face. His Clanmates swarmed after him. Crookedjaw followed, hooking himself up one clawhold at a time, and landing easily on the smooth, flat stone. The rock sparkled with starlight.
Hailstar waved his tail toward the trees crowding the far edge of Sunningrocks. ThunderClan’s territory, every last branch and twig. “You begin that side, Shellheart.” He nodded toward the top of the cliff. “Owlfur, Softwing, Voleclaw, and Rippleclaw, join him.” He glanced at the others. “You come with me.”
As Crookedjaw followed the RiverClan leader over the rock, he let the cool night air bathe his tongue. ThunderClan scent. His pelt pricked.
Stale.
They hadn’t been here for days. He guessed glaring sun was too hot for cats used to forest shade.
Hailstar sprayed the first tree they reached. Crookedjaw winced at the stench. It was strong enough for ThunderClan to smell long before they reached the tree line.
“I want every bush and tree sprayed,” Hailstar ordered.
Crookedjaw crossed the narrow strip of grass and stopped beside a bramble. He marked it, growling. Smell that, ThunderClan! By the time they met back at the cliff top, the forest was drenched in RiverClan scent.
“I want four warriors to stay,” Hailstar announced. “If a ThunderClan patrol comes, challenge them. If there’s a fight, we’ll hear from the camp and send reinforcements.”
Timberfur stepped forward. “I’ll stay.”
“Me too.” Crookedjaw lined up with him.
Hailstar nudged him away. “I want my most experienced warriors to take the first watch.” He glanced at Shellheart. “You stay with Timberfur, Echomist, and Owlfur.”
Crookedjaw’s itched with frustration as he followed Oakheart down the cliff face. He lowered himself paw hold by paw hold until he felt the ground brush his tail-tip. Then he let himself drop and landed lightly beside Whitefang.
The white warrior’s eyes shone. “That was as easy as swallowing a minnow.”
Hailstar nodded. “Let’s go and tell the Clan.”
Their Clanmates were waiting in the starlit clearing. Beetlenose paced beside the reed bed. Lilystem stared expectantly from beneath the willow. Even the queens had slid from the nursery and were lined up, their eyes filled with hope.
“Did you do it?” Lakeshine called.
“Sunningrocks belongs to RiverClan again!” Hailstar announced.
The Clan’s cheers sent roosting birds flapping into the still night air.
Willowpaw hurried over to Crookedjaw. “Did you have to fight?”
“It was easy,” he told her. “There wasn’t a single patrol.”
Beetlenose snorted. “That’s because all of ThunderClan is asleep!”
“They hadn’t been there for days,” Voleclaw added.
“It’s too hot for their delicate forest paws,” Petaldust crowed.
Crookedjaw looked around at his jubilant Clanmates. Was he the only cat who felt that this victory had been too easy?
“I can’t believe they haven’t tried to fight for it.” Oakheart hauled himself onto the topmost boulder of Sunningrocks. “It’s been two days. We’ll be able to bring the elders up here soon to enjoy the warmth.”
Crookedjaw followed his brother over the edge and surveyed the wide stretch of stone, white now beneath the fierce morning sun. “They might still be waiting to catch us off guard.” He nodded to the RiverClan patrol they’d been sent to relieve. Petaldust and Cedarpelt flicked their tails in welcome. Beetlenose stretched while Mudfur hurried toward them.