Perhaps we’ll catch them before they reach the border. His paws itched for battle. He would beat WindClan just like he’d beaten the mountain cats. They were both scrawny bunches of prey-stealers.
Cloudtail raced into the lead, signaling for the patrol to slow down. He was the Clan’s best tracker; no WindClan scent would escape him. He led them straight for the border, stopping and sniffing at twigs and leaves before nodding and moving on to the next scent.
As they neared WindClan’s part of the forest, he halted beside a low-spreading yew. He sniffed it and then turned his head, ears pricking. Padding into a dip, he sniffed at a bramble and frowned. He jumped onto the bank, which led down to the border stream, and opened his mouth to draw in scent.
Shaking his head, he glanced back at his Clanmates.
“What is it?” Dustpelt demanded.
“They split up here,” Cloudtail meowed.
Dustpelt flattened his ears. “They did what?”
Cloudtail flicked his tail toward the yew. “One group went that way.”
Toward the old Thunderpath! An ominous feeling rumbled in Lionpaw’s belly.
“Another went that way.” Cloudtail was pointing his nose toward the lake. “And the other—”
Birchfall cut him off. “The other?”
Cloudtail was looking upstream. “The other group has gone deeper into the woods,” he finished.
Lionpaw gulped. That was where the tunnel entrance lay.
“Then none of them have crossed back over the border?”
Ashfur circled his Clanmates, pelt bristling.
“Not as far as I can tell,” Cloudtail meowed. “This is as close to the border as the scents go.”
“Isn’t there any fresh scent on the border at all?”
Cloudtail shook his head.
Ashfur narrowed his eyes. “So they didn’t come in this way either.”
“They must have crossed the moorland border,” Birchfall guessed.
Lionpaw prayed it was true. But he couldn’t forget the fox den he had found. Had WindClan found it too? Had they used it to invade ThunderClan territory? He fought down the urge to race to the thicket and check for WindClan scents.
How would he explain his suspicions to the others?
“We should get back to camp,” Birchfall warned. “WindClan are still on our land.” Eyes round with worry, he glanced at his Clanmates before bounding away. Lionpaw raced after him, Cloudtail and Dustpelt on his heels. The forest floor blurred beneath his paws as they sped for home.
“Firestar!” Dustpelt exploded through the thorn tunnel and called to the ThunderClan leader.
Lionpaw saw with relief that the camp was the same as when they had left. Foxpaw and Icepaw were passing up brambles to Brightheart, who stretched up to weave them into the thorn barrier. Spiderleg was dragging more branches out from behind the medicine den, while Berrynose and Honeyfern pressed mud and leaves around the bottom of the barrier to root it more firmly into place. Graystripe paced outside the nursery, the fur bristling along his spine. Mousefur and Longtail crouched on Highledge.
Firestar looked up sharply. “Have they left?” He had been talking with Brambleclaw in the middle of the moonlit clearing.
Dustpelt shook his head.
“What?” Firestar dug his claws into the soft earth.
“They’ve split up into three groups and disappeared.”
Graystripe hurried from the nursery. “Split up?”
“They must be trying to weaken us by dividing us up,” Brambleclaw growled.
“The attack on the camp was just to get our attention,” Firestar concluded. “They want to draw us out into the forest.”
“If they’ve split up, they’ve weakened themselves too,” Dustpelt pointed out.
“But they have the advantage of surprise,” Graystripe muttered. “They know we’re coming.”
“And we don’t know where they’re hiding,” Dustpelt finished.
Brightheart left her work at the barrier and padded into the clearing. Spiderleg, Berrynose, and Honeyfern joined her, ears pricked and tails flicking nervously.
“We know which way they headed,” Cloudtail meowed.
“One group went up toward the top of the territory, one went down toward the lake, and it looks like one doubled back and headed for the old Twoleg path.”
“How in the name of StarClan did they know which way to go?” Dustpelt wondered.
Firestar frowned. “It looks like they know our territory better than we imagined.”
“That’s impossible!” Brambleclaw insisted. “Our patrols have kept them from crossing the border.”
Lionpaw listened silently, his belly churning as he pictured WindClan warriors creeping night after night from the fox hole, past the patrols, and into the very heart of ThunderClan territory to scout for places to fight.
The thorn barrier shook as Whitewing charged into the camp. “No sign of trouble on the ShadowClan border!”
Brackenfur and Hollypaw raced in after her, Icepaw and Sorreltail on their heels.
Firestar faced them. “WindClan have split up and are still on our territory.”
Hollypaw’s eyes widened.
“They didn’t leave?” Sorreltail gasped.
“No.” Firestar paced the clearing. “We need three battle patrols to go out and find them. A fourth patrol will stay behind to defend the camp.” He swung his head toward his old friend. “Graystripe, that will be your duty.”
Graystripe nodded.
“I’ll lead one patrol. Brambleclaw, you lead the second, and Dustpelt will lead the third.”
By now the whole Clan was gathered around their leader.
Leafpool and Jaypaw listened from outside the medicine den. Firestar scanned the anxious faces. “ThunderClan will defend its territory,” he promised. “Ashfur, Lionpaw, Berrynose, Spiderleg, Poppyfrost, you’ll follow me.” He turned to Brambleclaw and Dustpelt. “Pick your own warriors. Leafpool and Jaypaw will stay in camp with the queens and elders.
Brightheart and Whitewing, you stay with them. Cinderpaw, Ferncloud, and Icepaw, you stay too.”
Cinderpaw looked ready to argue, but held her tongue.
Icepaw wasn’t so wise. “But I—” she began to complain.
Firestar glared at her. “Do you think kits and elders aren’t worth defending?”
“Of c-course!” Icepaw backed away.
Dustpelt and Brambleclaw began to gather their patrols, choosing cats with a f lick of their tail. The Clan divided like water around rocks, pooling behind the two warriors.
“Are we ready?” Firestar asked.
Brambleclaw beckoned Mousewhisker and Hazeltail, then nodded.
“What about me?” Foxpaw mewed.
“You’ll be with us, of course,” Squirrelflight called from beside Dustpelt.
The apprentice hurried to his mentor.
“I’ll head into the woods near the border,” Firestar declared.
Lionpaw pricked his ears. Would he have a chance to check out the fox hole? He might even be able to seal it up.
“Brambleclaw,” Firestar went on, “you go to the ShadowClan border. Check the abandoned Twoleg nest. And Dustpelt…”
The tabby warrior leaned forward.
“…you head for the lake.”
Lionpaw darted to Hollypaw’s side. “You’ll be careful?”
“I’ll do what I have to,” she answered.
Jaypaw’s gray pelt shimmered in the moonlight as he hurried from the medicine den. “You must both come back,” he told them. His blind blue gaze sparked with fear.
The prophecy! Was that all he cared about? Their territory was at stake.
“Of course we’ll come back,” Hollypaw promised, her voice catching in her throat. She brushed her cheek against Jaypaw’s.