“Tomorrow?” he heard Tigerkit call after him.
Pinestar didn’t answer. He pushed his way into the gorse, relishing the way the thorns clutched at his fur and pricked his muzzle. I cannot be a father to this kit! Oh Shanty, what should I do?
He blundered through the undergrowth toward Twolegplace. He had never missed Shanty more, never yearned more strongly that he had told her about the prophecy before she died. He had deliberately kept his dream from her, knowing that she would have no understanding of StarClan and the meaning of omens. But now he wished he had trusted her with everything so that she could give her honest opinion, let him consider all of the possibilities—and dismiss the idea that the only way to save ThunderClan was to kill a helpless kit.
When he reached the wooden fence, he stopped. He couldn’t go to Shanty’s home, not when he knew she wouldn’t be there. The emptiness would be too heartbreaking. He decided to look for Jake instead. He trotted through the long grass until he reached the edge of Jake’s territory. A quick leap over the fence and he was standing behind Jake’s Twoleg den. There was no sign of the ginger cat.
“He’s with Quince,” mewed a high-pitched voice. A strikingly elegant fawn cat with dark brown ears and paws was looking down at Pinestar from a tree on the other side of a wall. “You’re the wild cat, aren’t you?”
“Er, yes,” mewed Pinestar.
The stranger stood up and stretched each long, slender leg in turn. “I’m Tyr,” he meowed. “See you around, I expect.” He sprang out of the tree and vanished behind the wall.
Pinestar stood on the grass, feeling the sun warm his pelt. The scents of Twolegplace wafted around him, flowers and leaves and the faint hint of monsters. There was no stench of blood here, no hiss of fear or fury as cats fought over who was allowed to walk where. Some kittypets were more bad-tempered than others, Pinestar had learned, but they never fought to the death. They are better at following the warrior code than we are!
There was a noise behind him, and Pinestar turned to see Jake’s female Twoleg coming out with something in her front paw. It rattled, and Pinestar knew that it was something Jake called his food bowl, containing the brown pellets that Jake ate. He pricked his ears, feeling a worm of curiosity stir in his belly. Was kittypet food really that bad?
The Twoleg saw him and made a soothing sound. She reached out with her empty paw and Pinestar padded close enough for her to touch him. He had done this enough times with this Twoleg to know that he didn’t need to be frightened. He meowed in delight when she smoothed his fur from head to tail tip. She made more friendly noises, then put the food bowl onto the white stone path that surrounded the Twoleg den. Pinestar took a step forward and stretched out his neck to sniff the pellets. They didn’t smell too awful; there was a hint of rabbit, even. He licked one of the pellets, then jumped back to consider the taste. Definitely rabbit, and something else, a bit like pigeon…
The Twoleg murmured and bared her teeth at him. Pinestar knew this wasn’t a sign of hostility; quite the opposite. He bent his head and crunched up a mouthful of pellets. The Twoleg ran her paw along his back again, just the way he liked it. He purred, sounding rather muffled around the food.
When the bowl was empty, Pinestar looked up at the Twoleg and pressed himself against her hind legs. “That was delicious!” he mewed. “Is there any more?”
“Pinestar! What are you doing?”
Pinestar felt his belly flip over in horror, and the pellets stuck in his throat. How long had Lionpaw been standing on top of the fence? He ran across the grass, thinking furiously. “You shouldn’t be here! What if that kittypet comes back?” He hoped Lionpaw would remember Pinestar telling him about the ferocious kittypet who had been causing trouble, and needed a close watch.
“RiverClan is invading!” the apprentice meowed. “You have to come!”
Another battle! Time seemed to slow down around Pinestar, and his mind whirled. At this very moment, his Clanmates were fighting to defend a few paw steps of territory, a couple of fox-lengths of trees and grass that would provide prey for whichever Clan was prepared to shed the most blood. I cannot do this any longer. No matter what he did, brave cats would die. He pictured Shanty’s housefolk, bent double with grief over her death, and then the solemn, calm atmosphere in the camp that morning around Sweetpaw’s body.
Have we lost the ability to grieve? he wondered. Do we watch so many cats die that we cannot let ourselves feel true loss? Does any cat’s life really matter at all?
Then he thought of Tigerkit, his own son, innocently playing with a bundle of moss with a cruel and terrible destiny hanging over him. StarClan must have known that he would never be able to kill this kit, whatever warnings they gave. If Pinestar could not prevent the threat, perhaps another cat would; a different leader, one who was able to guide Tigerkit’s paws to a brighter destiny.
Every leader faces difficult choices, whispered a voice in Pinestar’s ear. And yours will be the most difficult of all.
Thunderstar! The cat who had given him one of his nine lives. And here is my choice, Pinestar thought. To stay with my Clan, or leave and follow a different path. He knew there was a place where he belonged, where he would be needed and loved and kept safe in return for a different kind of loyalty and honor.
There was no choice at all, or if there had been, Pinestar had made it already, without even noticing. Still, he could not meet Lionpaw’s eye as he spoke. “I can’t.”
“Why not? Did the kittypet hurt you?”
“There is no kittypet. Only me.”
“You’re just pretending to be a kittypet,” Lionpaw mewed in confusion. “So the Twoleg doesn’t chase you away.”
Pinestar looked back at Jake’s Twoleg. She was holding the food bowl and watching them. “She won’t chase me away. She likes me.”
“But… but you’re our Clan leader! You can’t be friends with Twolegs!”
Oh, Shanty! This is the hardest thing I have ever done! I wish you were here with me.
Pinestar took a deep breath. “Then I can’t be your Clan leader anymore. I’m sorry, Lionpaw. I tried so hard, but I can’t keep the Clan safe. I’m too old, too scared of losing any more battles. Sunfall will make a better leader than me. Tell… tell ThunderClan that I am dead.”
The apprentice narrowed his eyes in anger. “No! I will not lie for you! You might not want to be our leader anymore, but you could at least be brave enough to tell the Clan yourself. They deserve to know the truth, that you are leaving to become a kittypet.”
Pinestar hung his head. He couldn’t blame Lionpaw for his fury. And the apprentice was right: His Clanmates deserved a proper good-bye. They had done nothing wrong; only served him loyally and courageously and to their deaths, like all good warriors. It wasn’t their fault that Pinestar couldn’t bear it anymore.
Lionpaw was already racing across the grass and hurling himself over the fence. Pinestar followed, his paws suddenly light as he realized that this was the last time he would have to enter the forest, the last time he would have to take responsibility for these cats who were so much braver, so much better able to fight for their survival, than he was.
And so much stronger to deal with Tigerkit.
“Pinestar!” Sunfall’s call greeted Pinestar as he entered the clearing.