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“Hello.” Bella dipped her head politely. “You’re new around here. Where do your housefolk live?”

“Firestar doesn’t have housefolk,” Boris informed her.

“He’s a Clan cat.”

Bella’s eyes stretched wide with curiosity, changing to wonder as Firestar briefly told his story.

“You’ll come to the meeting, won’t you?” Cherry prompted when he had finished. “It’ll be great, living in a Clan! I’ll show you how to catch mice.”

Bella shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly do that. I would miss my housefolk far too much, and they would miss me.”

“But—” Boris began.

“No,” Bella repeated more firmly. “The other night I got shut in the neighbor’s shed, and when I got back my housefolk’s kits were wailing. I can’t bear to think of them upset like that again.” She pressed her muzzle affectionately against Cherry’s. “But I hope you enjoy living in this new Clan, if that’s what you want.”

“Thanks, Bella.” Cherry looked unusually serious. “We’ll come and visit you sometimes; I promise.” She watched as the she-cat trotted away down the alley. “I’ll miss her,” she muttered. “She’s a good friend.”

Boris gave her ear a quick lick. “Come on; let’s go and find Hutch.”

At the other end of the alley Cherry and Boris paused beside another fence. One of the wooden strips was broken at the bottom, leaving a space just wide enough for a cat to squeeze in.

“We’ve got to be careful,” Boris warned. “Hutch’s Twolegs have a dog as well. It should be shut up, but keep your eyes open.”

Cherry had already pushed her way through the gap.

Firestar followed warily, while Boris brought up the rear.

On the other side of the fence, Firestar found himself in a thicket of strong-smelling bushes. Beyond it a stretch of grass led up to a path made of sharp little stones running around the Twoleg nest.

“Hey, Hutch!” Boris yowled. “Are you in there?”

Firestar stiffened as a flurry of barking came from the nest, but no dog appeared. Instead, a tiny door swung open in the big Twoleg door, and a dark tabby cat poked its head out.

Spotting Cherry and Boris, he slid out the rest of the way, bounded across the stony path without flinching, and raced over the grass to meet them in the shadow of the bushes. He was not as powerfully built as Oscar, but he looked strong, and Firestar had noticed when he crossed the path that he had the hard pads that were a mark of SkyClan. He smelled strongly of kittypet food.

“Hi,” he meowed with a friendly flick of his ears to Firestar. “My name’s Hutch; what’s yours?”

Once again Firestar introduced himself and told the story of SkyClan. “The SkyClan cats could live in the gorge because they had strong back legs for jumping, and hard pads for walking over rock. Just like Cherry and Boris.” He felt a stirring of relief when Hutch raised one of his own paws to examine his pads. “We’re holding a meeting to talk about it.”

Hutch looked intrigued. “I’ve heard about cats living wild in the gorge,” he told Firestar. “My mother used to tell me, but I thought they were just stories for kits.”

“No, it’s all true,” Boris mewed, and Cherry added enthusiastically, “We’re going to be SkyClan apprentices!”

“So you’ll come to the meeting?” Firestar asked.

“Tomorrow night, in the gorge where the river flows out.”

“Sure,” Hutch replied.

Firestar dipped his head. “Then we’ll see you there.”

Hutch flicked his tail in farewell and turned to go, then glanced back. “Are you hungry?”

Cherry’s ears pricked. “Cream?” she mewed hopefully, swiping her tongue around her jaws.

“A whole bowlful.”

“Hang on,” Firestar meowed, before Cherry or Boris could move. “You can be a SkyClan apprentice, or you can go into Twoleg nests and eat cream. Not both.”

“But we’re not apprentices yet,” Cherry retorted pertly.

Part of Firestar was amused, but he knew that if he gave his permission now the two young kittypets might never really appreciate what it meant to join a Clan. If they weren’t ready to give up Twoleg comforts, they weren’t ready to live the life of a warrior.

“SkyClan or cream,” he meowed. “You choose.”

Cherry and Boris exchanged a glance, and Cherry let out a disappointed sigh.

“It’s got to be SkyClan,” she replied.

“Fresh-kill tastes better anyway,” Boris mewed. “Come on; we’ve got lots more cats to see.”

They plunged back into the bushes toward the fence.

Firestar waited to say good-bye to Hutch, and saw his own amusement reflected in the dark tabby’s eyes. Suddenly he felt encouraged. This was a cat he could work with.

Cherry and Boris led the way back into the alley and around a corner to the edge of a small Thunderpath. Firestar paused by the fence, his neck fur bristling at the reek of monsters. One of them was crouched a few fox-lengths away, but it seemed to be asleep.

“It’s okay,” Boris meowed, strolling nonchalantly up to the edge of the Thunderpath. “It’s pretty quiet at this time of day.”

Cherry bounced up to join him; Firestar admitted to himself that he was impressed. These two kittypets had a lot to learn about Clan life and the warrior code, but here they were confident and focused, and they seemed to know every pawstep of the Twolegplace.

Trying not to show his uneasiness, he padded across to join them, glancing both ways along the Thunderpath. No monsters were in sight, and he couldn’t hear any approaching.

“Come on!” Cherry urged.

Firestar signaled with his tail, though he wasn’t sure that the two young cats were waiting for his order. “Okay, let’s go.”

All three cats darted across; Cherry and Boris swarmed up the nearest fence and balanced on the top, waiting for Firestar.

“We can go along this fence,” Boris explained. “We’ll pass two or three gardens where cats live. Watch out for this next one, though. The Twolegs here have a dog.”

“Noisy little brute.” Cherry sniffed. “It’ll probably come out, barking its stupid head off.”

She was right. As soon as Boris set paw on the next section of fence, a small white dog shot out of the Twoleg nest, yapping furiously. It sprang up at the fence, and Firestar dug his claws hard into the wood as it shook.

“Get lost, flea-pelt,” Cherry spat. “Go and drool over your Twolegs. Don’t worry,” she added kindly to Firestar. “The idiot can’t climb.”

Firestar felt as if he were the apprentice and the two kittypets were his mentors. “I’m fine with dogs, thanks,” he meowed.

The dog went on barking as the three cats continued along the fence top. Firestar hid his relief as the noise died away behind them.

Eventually Boris paused and looked down over a bigger garden than most of them, with a wide expanse of smooth grass bordered by masses of bright flowers. Firestar picked up a strong scent of cat.

Cherry lifted her tail to point. “Over there.”

She was pointing at some wooden Twoleg thing standing at the edge of the grass in front of the flowers. Lying on top of it was a shapeless heap of cream-and-brown fur.

Cherry jumped down from the fence, landing in a clump of flowers; Firestar and Boris followed and skirted the edge of the flower border until they reached the wooden Twoleg thing.

Two identical heads rose from the heap of fur. Firestar’s ears pricked with curiosity. He had never seen cats like these before. Their slender bodies were cream-colored, but their legs, tails, ears, and muzzles were brown, and they had the most brilliant blue eyes he had ever seen.