Maps
Chapter One
“And this, young Pinepaw, is Twolegplace!” Mistpelt pointed with her tail to the tall wooden fence that ran along the edge of the trees.
Pinepaw tipped back his head to look at the top of the fence. It stretched away on either side of him, all the way to the ends of the forest. “Did the Twolegs build the fence to keep us out?” he asked.
Mistpelt purred with amusement. “We’re not that scary! I think they wanted to mark their border, just as we mark ours, but they’re too lazy to send out patrols. Just like any other Clan border, you must remember that we are not welcome on the other side.” The warrior’s eyes gleamed, startlingly green against her pale gray fur. “That’s not to say we can’t have a poke around over there when we wish, though. It’s nothing like the forest, that’s for sure!”
She started to pad away along the edge of the trees, her belly fur brushing the long grass. The scents of greenleaf hung heavy in the air and the breeze tasted of pollen and sap.
Pinepaw stayed where he was, trying to imagine what could be so different on the other side of the fence. Were the trees a different color? What sort of dens did Twolegs live in? He spotted a small hole in the fence, just at the level of his ears. He crept up to it and peered through.
A huge yellow eye glared back at him. Pinepaw squealed and leaped backward. There was a mad scrabble of claws and a deafening rattle of wood as Mistpelt hurtled up the fence and balanced on the top, arching her back and screeching.
“Leave my apprentice alone, you mangy furball! Too frightened to come over here and face us, aren’t you? Go back to your Twolegs, fox-brain!”
She jumped down again and nodded to Pinepaw. “Nothing but a fat old kittypet,” she meowed, sounding rather out of breath. She dipped her head to lick the fur on her chest. “You’ll chase them off yourself next time.”
Pinepaw glanced nervously back at the hole. Was the kittypet still watching him? He was sure he’d have bad dreams about monstrous eyes peering through holes for the rest of his life. He kept close to Mistpelt’s flank as she padded away, resisting the urge to glance back and see if they were being tracked.
“I don’t mind if I never see a kittypet again,” he muttered.
Mistpelt purred. “Oh you will, but they won’t frighten you. Their teeth and claws are as blunt as stones, and they’re all scared of their own shadow!” She nodded toward a thick swath of brambles that blocked their path. “Beyond that is the Thunderpath. Can you hear it?”
Pinepaw paused to listen to the steady growl of monsters rumbling past. They didn’t seem as alarming as the kittypet because he knew they never left the hard black stone. The biggest danger here was encountering trespassing warriors from ShadowClan, who lived on the other side. Mistpelt led him into the prickly brambles and Pinepaw peeked out at the blurred shapes of monsters rushing past. A stench-filled, warm wind buffeted his fur and he shrank back, trying not to gag.
“We won’t go any closer than this,” Mistpelt warned. “You’ll learn how to cross the Thunderpath when you go to the Moonstone, but that won’t be for a while.”
Pinepaw felt a prickle of excitement beneath his fur. His whole life seemed to be rolling out before him, as clearly as if he were gazing down at it from the top of a tree. This was only his first day as an apprentice, and already he had encountered kittypets and monsters! He wondered if they would come across the other apprentices, who were all out training with their mentors. Pinepaw was used to being alone, as he didn’t have any littermates, but he was looking forward to training with the others, and trying out for real the battle moves he had attempted as a kit.
He followed his mentor along the territory border, a few tail-lengths from the rumbling Thunderpath. The gritty scent of the monsters clung to every leaf and blade of grass, and Pinepaw wasn’t looking forward to cleaning it off his fur later. Ahead of him, Mistpelt halted abruptly, her ears pricked. Pinepaw could see flashes of bright orange between the trees, and throaty Twoleg bellows cut through the growl of monsters.
“We’ll have to go around them,” Mistpelt whispered. “I don’t think they’d be interested in us, but let’s not take any risks.” She crouched down and crawled into the bracken, away from the Thunderpath and the cluster of Twolegs who stood at the edge. Pinepaw hung back, trying to peer through the trunks to see what they were doing. They all had shiny orange pelts and hard white heads that reflected the sun. Two of them were standing in a muddy hole at the edge of the Thunderpath, and another was prodding the ground with a stick.
“Come on!” Mistpelt hissed in Pinepaw’s ear, making him jump. He’d been so busy watching the Twolegs, he hadn’t heard his mentor return. “What are you waiting for?”
“I was trying to see what they’re up to,” Pinepaw whispered back.
“Curious apprentices get their noses bitten,” Mistpelt teased. “Oakstar sent a patrol out here last night. It looks like the Twolegs are digging a tunnel under the Thunderpath, where it gets very boggy.”
“Cool!” breathed Pinepaw.
His mentor looked at him. “Hardly. We don’t want to make it easy for ShadowClan to wander into our territory, do we?” Her tone was dry, and Pinepaw ducked his head, feeling foolish.
They pushed through the bracken and headed away from the Thunderpath. Pinepaw’s legs were aching and his pads were stinging from thorns and stones. He had never walked so far in his life! He didn’t know how patrols managed to go all around the territory every single day. The noise of the Thunderpath faded away, and soon Pinepaw could hear the gentle splash of running water.
The river! He had heard so much about it and tried so hard to picture it. He burst out of the ferns and stood on the shore. It’s like a watery Thunderpath, he thought, feeling slightly disappointed. From the way the elders talked about it, the river seemed like a terrible place, waiting to suck young cats under the surface. The fact that RiverClan warriors liked to swim just made them more sinister and terrifying.
Mistpelt padded past him over the crunchy stones. “Come dip your paws!” she called as she stepped delicately into the water.
Pinepaw backed away, imagining the water lapping hungrily at his belly, dragging him off his feet. “I’m okay, thanks,” he mewed. He stared across the river to the willow trees on the other side. Their leaves shimmered gray and silver in the breeze, and the reeds beneath them whispered. Were they being watched by RiverClan cats? Pinepaw shuddered. He didn’t want to meet any of those fish-breaths today. Not before he’d learned how to fight properly.
Mistpelt returned, shaking droplets from each paw in turn. “Let’s head back,” she meowed.
“Really? I’ve seen the whole territory?” Pinepaw asked.
Mistpelt purred. “Well, most of the borders. We’ll leave everywhere else for another day.” She ducked into the ferns and picked up a tiny path, strongly scented with rabbit and something else, sharp and bitter. “That’s fox,” Mistpelt commented, noticing Pinepaw wrinkle his nose.
Pinepaw blinked. “Is it near?” he squeaked.
“No, this is an old scent.” Mistpelt picked up speed as the path widened, and suddenly Pinepaw realized he had seen these trees before, and smelled these exact scents… and there was the path at the top of the ravine that led down into ThunderClan’s camp. Home!
He followed his mentor down the stony path and pushed his way through the gorse into the clearing. Before he could catch his breath, a brown tabby she-cat with green eyes was nuzzling him, licking the fur on his back and purring.