On the other side of the clearing, Mistpelt was snarling at a dark gray tom. Blood dripped from the she-cat’s ear, but her eyes were fierce as she lashed out at the intruder. He tried to step back but was blocked by a bramble; trapped, he could only duck as Mistpelt rained blows on his head.
“Go, Mistpelt!” yowled Pinepaw.
The orange-and-gray cat rolled away from Doefeather and stood up. “ShadowClan warriors, retreat!” she growled.
The fourth intruder, a gray-and-white she-cat, snapped at Daisypaw’s ears once more, and got clouted by Squirrelwhisker in return. Pinepaw braced himself for another attack, but the orange-and-gray warrior hissed, and as one, the ShadowClan warriors turned and sprinted away. Doefeather charged after them and the rest of the patrol fell in behind. In spite of his scratches and bruised paws, Pinepaw felt himself fly over the ground. We won!
They chased the intruders all the way to the tunnel under the Thunderpath, then stopped just beyond the churned-up earth and watched them flounder back into the damp-smelling hole.
“And stay out!” Doefeather screeched.
There was a rustle of bracken on the far side of the Thunderpath as the ShadowClan cats emerged, then silence. Even the Thunderpath was empty and quiet, save for the panting of the ThunderClan warriors.
Mistpelt nudged Pinepaw, and he looked up at her. “You fought well, youngster,” she mewed. “Your father will be very proud.”
Pinepaw felt his pelt grow hot with pride.
Doefeather nodded. “Good decision to stay with us,” she grunted. “Brave, too. We’ll make a leader of you yet, Pinepaw. Just wait and see.”
Chapter Two
“But Mapleshade hadn’t finished her revenge. She wasn’t going to rest until she had tortured every cat that she blamed for the death of her kits! She came back to ThunderClan looking for one cat in particular: poor, helpless Frecklewish.” Nettlebreeze lowered his voice and Pinepaw shivered. He had heard this story many times, all the apprentices had, but that didn’t stop them from begging Nettlebreeze to tell them the tale again.
“Tell us what happened when she found her!” begged Daisypaw, her yellow eyes huge. The skirmish with ShadowClan warriors had left her with a deep bite on her foreleg, so she had been staying in the medicine cat’s den for the last few days, but she would be back in training soon.
Nettlebreeze crouched down and let the fur rise along his spine. “Mapleshade found her, all right, patrolling by Snakerocks. Mapleshade forced her into a pile of stones where snakes were hiding, and one of them spat venom right in Frecklewish’s eye!”
He paused, screwing up his own eyes to show what Frecklewish would have looked like.
“Bloomheart found her,” Nettlebreeze went on, his voice growing husky with grief. “But there was nothing he could do. ThunderClan had no medicine cat then, because Mapleshade had killed Ravenwing without an apprentice to take over. Frecklewish died a few sunrises later, when the poison took hold of her from the inside.” He shook his head. “Perhaps that was a sign of mercy from StarClan. If she had survived, she would have been blind and driven mad by the horrors she had seen. If Mapleshade is not in the Place of No Stars, there is no justice!”
“No justice!” echoed the apprentices faintly, shaking their heads.
“Nettlebreeze, are you telling them about Mapleshade again?” Fallowsong pushed her way into the apprentices’ den, shaking raindrops from her fur. “For StarClan’s sake, stop! You keep giving them bad dreams!”
“No, he doesn’t,” Littlepaw protested.
Fallowsong tipped her head on one side. “My nest is just the other side of the den wall,” she pointed out. “I can hear you! Okay, Doefeather has sent most of your mentors to renew the border marks by the tunnel, so she has asked us to take you on a hunting patrol. We’ll try not to stumble across any intruders this time, okay?”
Pinepaw scrambled to his feet and followed the others out of the den. The rain had eased to a fine drizzle that clung to his fur and tickled his eyelashes. He blinked, then broke into a run so that he didn’t have to linger under the dripping gorse.
Fallowsong and Nettlebreeze took them to the pine trees near treecutplace. It was silent and shadowy under the brittle branches, and the cats didn’t say a word as they spread out, looking for prey. Pinepaw watched the other apprentices cover the needle-strewn ground and decided to head closer to Twolegplace in the hope of finding something in the long grass at the edge of the trees. He had patrolled along the fence several times now and never stopped to peek through the hole again. He wasn’t afraid of a lazy kittypet, he told himself. He just didn’t see any need to cross their path.
As he approached the edge of the forest, he saw the sharply pointed red roofs of the Twoleg dens. There was a chatter of high-pitched Twoleg voices, abruptly cut off by a thud, then a monster began rumbling, loud at first but fainter as it rolled away. Pinepaw swerved around a dripping dock leaf, letting the scents of the forest fill his muzzle. There was definitely a hint of prey—rabbit, possibly—and something else, mustier and almost hidden beneath the scent of rain-soaked leaves.
A fallen tree lay ahead, the ground around it sandy and bare of grass where the roots had disturbed the earth. Pinepaw crept toward it, pinpointing the scents to the roots that reached into the air above a deep, sandy hole. The air began to taste warm and furry. This is going to be a great catch! Pinepaw thought gleefully.
Suddenly there was an explosion from the trees beside him and a deafening screech of barking. Pinepaw spun around to see a fox snarling at the edge of the grass. Her russet-colored hackles were raised and drool dripped from her teeth. Behind him, he heard the faintest of yaps from beneath the roots of the tree, and his heart sank. He hadn’t been following the scent of prey. He had picked up the trail of some fox cubs!
The mother fox took a step closer, and now Pinepaw could smell her breath, meaty and hot and foul. Her eyes gleamed with fury and hunger. Pinepaw scanned the gap between the fox and the tree trunk. Could he make a run for it before she caught him? His heart pounded so hard that he couldn’t think clearly, and his legs trembled until it was an effort to stand upright.
The fox leaned forward, ready to strike. Pinepaw closed his eyes and braced himself. He knew he wasn’t fast enough to run away. He would have to hope that he could somehow fight his way out.
Just as the fox was about to leap, there was a thunder of paws along the fallen tree. A ginger-and-white shape flew down to land in front of Pinepaw. It was a cat, her fur fluffed up and her tail bristling.
“Get away from him!” the cat hissed. She lashed out with one forepaw, and sharp claws glinted briefly in the air. “Leave him alone!”
To Pinepaw’s astonishment, the fox lowered its muzzle and took a step back. Its ears flicked as if it was trying to work out what this fierce cat was saying.
“Get onto the fence,” the cat muttered to Pinepaw out of the side of her mouth. “Go on, now!”
Pinepaw turned and jumped onto the fallen tree. Without looking back, he raced along the trunk and leaped from there onto the Twoleg fence. It wobbled under his weight and for a moment he thought he would fall down into the grass to be snapped up by the fox… but then he dug in with his claws and found his balance and stood triumphantly on top of the fence. The ginger-and-white cat joined while the fox barked in frustration below.
“Ha!” jeered Pinepaw. “Can’t catch me!”