The loner dipped his head in greeting, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth in amusement.
“Hollykit, this is Ravenpaw,” Shrewpaw told her. “He lives on a Twoleg farm, and feasts on more mice than you three have seen in your life.”
Hollykit’s amber eyes grew huge. “Every day?”
“That’s right,” Whitepaw put in solemnly. “Every day.”
“I want to go there,” the little gray kit mewed. “Can we?
Now?”
“When you’re bigger, Birchkit,” Ferncloud promised, coming up to join them. “Welcome, Ravenpaw. It’s good to—Hollykit! Larchkit! Stop that at once!”
The two brown tabby kits had pounced on Ravenpaw’s twitching tail, and were batting at it with outstretched paws.
Ravenpaw winced. “Don’t do that, little kits,” he scolded gently. “It’s my tail, not a mouse.”
“Ravenpaw, I’m sorry,” meowed Ferncloud. “They haven’t learned how to behave properly yet.”
“Don’t worry, Ferncloud,” Ravenpaw replied, though he drew his tail closely against his side, out of harm’s way. “Kits will be kits.”
“And these particular kits have been out for long enough.”
Ferncloud swished her tail around to gather the three kits together and herded them back toward the nursery. “Say good-bye to Ravenpaw now.”
The kits mewed good-bye and scampered off.
“Can we do anything for you, Ravenpaw?” Whitepaw asked politely. “Would you like some fresh-kill?”
“No, I ate before I left home, thank you,” the black cat replied. “I’ve come to see Firestar. Is he around?”
“I think he’s in his den,” Shrewpaw told him. “Shall I take you there?”
“No, I will,” meowed Leafpaw. She was getting increasingly anxious to ask the loner if he had seen Squirrelpaw on his journey through the forest. Just then Thornclaw, Shrewpaw’s mentor, emerged from the warriors’ den. Leafpaw twitched her ears toward him. “Er… is your mentor looking for you?” she asked Shrewpaw.
As she spoke, Thornclaw called to Shrewpaw, and the apprentice dashed off with a quick word of farewell. Whitepaw also meowed her good-byes, and went over to join Brackenfur at the fresh-kill pile.
Suddenly the thorny branches that formed the gorse tunnel trembled, and relief flooded over Leafpaw as she watched Squirrelpaw emerge, dragging a rabbit behind her through the mud. Leafpaw had taken a couple of paces toward her before she remembered the Clan’s visitor, and turned awkwardly back to him.
“That’s your sister, isn’t it?” Ravenpaw meowed. “Go and talk to her if you want. I can find my own way to Firestar’s den.”
Released, Leafpaw bounded toward her sister, who was heading for the fern tunnel. Catching sight of her, Squirrelpaw stopped to wait, dropping the rabbit at her paws; its fur was plastered with mud from being dragged across the clearing, and rain had flattened Squirrelpaw’s own pelt against her flanks, but her eyes gleamed with triumph. “Not bad, is it?” she announced, nodding toward her prey. “It’s for you and Cinderpelt.”
“Where have you been?” Leafpaw hissed. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Why?” Squirrelpaw’s green eyes looked injured. “Where did you think I had gone? I… I only slipped out to hunt when the rain started to ease off. And you might at least say thank-you!”
Snatching up the rabbit, she plunged into the ferns that led to the medicine cats’ clearing without waiting for Leafpaw to respond. Leafpaw followed more slowly, not sure whether to be relieved or furious. She had the uneasy feeling that Squirrelpaw was lying to her, for the first time ever. If she had really picked up her sister’s thoughts in her dream, then Squirrelpaw had done a lot more than just slip out of camp for a quick chase after a rabbit.
When she emerged into the clearing, she saw that Squirrelpaw had already dumped the rabbit at the mouth of Cinderpelt’s den. Her sister gave it an admiring sniff and meowed, “You might at least say I did well to catch it.” She still sounded indignant, but she didn’t meet Leafpaw’s gaze when she spoke.
“You did,” Leafpaw admitted. “It’s huge! Especially as you had such a disturbed night,” she added more sharply.
Squirrelpaw froze; only her green eyes moved, flicking up to rest on her sister’s face. “Who says I did?”
“I know you did. You were awake nearly all night. What was the matter? It was more than a short hunt, I know that.”
Squirrelpaw dropped her eyes to the ground. “Oh, I ate a frog late in the evening,” she muttered. “It must have disagreed with me, that’s all.”
Leafpaw unsheathed her claws and dug them into the rain-softened earth. Inwardly she was fighting to stay calm. She knew that Squirrelpaw was lying to her, and part of her wanted to start wailing like a kit: You’re my sister! You should trust me!
“Oh, a frog,” she mewed. “You should have come to me for some herbs to chew.”
“Yes, well…” Squirrelpaw scraped the earth with her one white paw. Leafpaw could see her discomfort in her flattened ears and the guilty look she shot at her, but didn’t feel in the least bit sorry. Why was Squirrelpaw lying?
“I’m fine now,” Squirrelpaw insisted. “It wasn’t anything to make a fuss about.”
She glanced around in relief as Cinderpelt appeared from the mouth of her den. Her smoky gray fur was ruffled, and she carried a leaf-wrapped packet in her jaws. “Fresh-kill, I see,” she meowed, setting the packet down. “Squirrelpaw, that’s a splendid rabbit! Thank you.”
Squirrelpaw gave her shoulder a quick lick, her eyes glowing at the medicine cat’s praise. But she still avoided her sister’s gaze.
Cinderpelt picked up the packet again and padded unevenly across the clearing to set it down in front of Leafpaw. Many seasons ago, when she was Firestar’s apprentice, she had injured her hind leg in an accident on the Thunderpath. She had been unable to finish her warrior training, but while recovering in the care of Yellowfang, the ThunderClan medicine cat, she had found a new path to follow in the service of her Clan.
“Leafpaw, take that to Dappletail, please,” Cinderpelt meowed. “It’s poppy seed to help her sleep, because her teeth are aching so badly. Mind you tell her to go easy on it.”
“Yes, Cinderpelt.” Leafpaw picked up the packet and hurried out of the clearing, casting one last glance at her sister as she went. There was no chance to ask Squirrelpaw any more questions, and her sister was still refusing to look at her.
Leafpaw felt every hair in her pelt prickle with foreboding as she wondered what could have happened to open up this gulf between them.
“Water! Help! Water everywhere! Swim!” Brambleclaw yowled, then choked as a sharp, salty wave filled his mouth, dragging at his fur and pulling him under. His paws worked frantically as he struggled to keep his head above the surface.
He stretched up his neck, straining to find the line of reeds he expected to mark the opposite bank, but all he could see were endless, heaving, blue-green waves. On the horizon, he caught a glimpse of the sun sinking into the waves in a pool of flame, its dying rays tracing a path of blood that stretched toward him. Then his head went under and the cold salt water flooded into his mouth again.
I’m drowning! he wailed silently as he fought for his life.
StarClan help me!
His head broke the surface and a strong current spun him around with his back legs dangling helplessly beneath him.
Choking and gasping for air, he found himself gazing up at a sheer wall of smooth sand-colored rock. Had he been swept into the gorge? No, these cliffs were higher still. At their base, the waves sucked at a dark hole, edged by jagged rocks that made it look like a gaping mouth with teeth. Brambleclaw’s terror increased as he realized that the swirling water was carrying him straight toward the stony jaws.