Leafpaw was surprised. “Still? But there’s been so much rain—they must have water of their own by now.”
Cinderpelt shrugged. “Try telling that to WindClan.”
Leafpaw put the news out of her mind as she brushed through the fern tunnel into the main clearing. That quarrel had nothing to do with ThunderClan, and most of her thoughts were taken up with anxiety about Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw. The sun had risen four times since she saw them leave. Her private sense of Squirrelpaw told her that her sister was still alive, but she knew nothing about where they were or what they were doing.
She had not eaten that morning, so she padded across to the fresh-kill pile, where Sorreltail was finishing off a vole.
“Hi.” The young tortoiseshell warrior flicked her tail in greeting as Leafpaw chose a mouse for herself and settled down to eat.
Leafpaw returned her greeting. “Sorreltail,” she asked, “are you busy this morning?”
“No.” Sorreltail gulped down the last of her vole and sat up, swiping her tongue appreciatively around her jaws. “Did you want something?”
“Cinderpelt has asked me to go up toward Fourtrees, by the RiverClan border, to collect some celandine. She said I should take a warrior with me.”
“Oh, yes!” Sorreltail sprang to her paws, excitement gleaming in her amber eyes. “In case WindClan accidentally stray into our territory, yes? Just let them try!”
Leafpaw laughed and quickly ate the rest of her mouse.
“Right, I’m ready. Let’s go!”
As they approached the end of the gorse tunnel, Firestar appeared, followed by Brackenfur and Rainwhisker. Leafpaw felt a thorn stabbing at her heart when she looked at her father; his head was down and his tail drooping, and even his flame-colored pelt seemed dull.
“Nothing?” Sorreltail asked him quietly; Leafpaw realized that she knew exactly what their leader had been doing.
Firestar shook his head. “Not a trace of them. No scent, no pawmarks, nothing. They’ve gone.”
“They must have left the territory days ago,” Brackenfur meowed somberly. “I don’t think there’s any point in sending out more patrols to look for them.”
“You’re right, Brackenfur.” Firestar let out a heavy sigh.
“They’re in the paws of StarClan now.”
Leafpaw pressed her muzzle against his side, and his tail curled around to brush her ears before he padded off across the clearing. Leafpaw saw Sandstorm meet him at the base of the Highrock, and the two cats went off together toward Firestar’s den.
Guilt swept over her as she remembered how much she was hiding—most of all, the certainty that Squirrelpaw was safe, though far from ThunderClan territory—and every hair on her pelt prickled so much that it seemed impossible that no other cat noticed as she followed Sorreltail out of the camp.
As the sun rose higher the morning mists cleared away; the day promised to be hot, although the red-gold leaves on the trees showed that leaf-fall had taken over the forest. Leafpaw and Sorreltail headed toward Fourtrees. The medicine cat apprentice purred with satisfaction as she watched Sorreltail dashing ahead to investigate every bush and hollow that they passed. There was no sign of the shoulder injury that had kept Sorreltail from her warrior ceremony for so long, and no trace of bitterness that she had waited twice as long as other apprentices to receive her warrior name. Though she was older than Leafpaw, she still had all the joyful energy of a kit.
As they drew close to the RiverClan border, Leafpaw heard the soft rush of the river, and caught glimpses of it sparkling through the undergrowth at the edge of the trees.
She found huge clumps of celandine where Cinderpelt had suggested, and settled down to bite off as many stems as she could carry.
“I can take some too,” Sorreltail offered, glancing back as she padded up to the border. “Yuck—RiverClan scent marks!
They make my fur curl.”
She stood gazing out over the slope that led down to the river, while Leafpaw got on with her task. It was almost finished when she heard her friend calling to her.
“Come and look at this!”
Bounding to Sorreltail’s side, Leafpaw looked down the slope to see a large group of WindClan cats gathered beside the water to drink. She recognized Tallstar and Firestar’s friend Onewhisker among them.
“They are still drinking at the river!” she exclaimed.
“And look at that.” Sorreltail pointed with her tail to where a RiverClan patrol was crossing the Twoleg bridge. “If you ask me, there’s going to be trouble.”
Mistyfoot was at the head of the patrol; she had brought with her the new warrior Hawkfrost and an older cat Leafpaw did not know, a tom with a black pelt. They padded down the slope and stopped a few foxlengths away from the WindClan cats. Mistyfoot called out something, but she was too far away for Leafpaw to hear what she said.
Sorreltail’s tail twitched. “I wish we could get a bit closer!”
“I think crossing the border would be a really bad idea,” Leafpaw mewed nervously.
“Oh, I know that. It looks like it could be interesting, that’s all.” She sounded resigned, as if the thought of helping RiverClan settle their border dispute had appealed to her.
By now, Mistyfoot’s fur was bristling furiously, her tail fluffed out to twice its size. Tallstar left his Clan mate and came closer to talk to her. Hawkfrost said something urgently to the RiverClan deputy, but she shook her head and he took a pace back, looking angry.
Eventually Tallstar returned to his Clan mates, who finished drinking and set out for their own territory. They took their time; it looked to Leafpaw as if they were leaving because they had finished, not because Mistyfoot had ordered them off. Several of the WindClan cats hissed at the RiverClan patrol as they passed, and Leafpaw could tell that Mistyfoot had her work cut out holding back her two companions from a fight. They were badly outnumbered—Leafpaw could only guess how frustrated Mistyfoot must feel that she couldn’t enforce her territory boundaries, thanks to the agreement at the last Gathering.
When the WindClan cats had vanished in the direction of Fourtrees, Mistyfoot gathered her patrol together to lead them down beside the river. Impulsively, Leafpaw called out to her; the RiverClan deputy turned and spotted her, and after a heartbeat’s hesitation padded up the slope to join her and Sorreltail on the border.
“Hello, there,” she meowed. “How’s the prey running with you?”
“Fine, thank you,” Leafpaw replied. She flashed a warning glance at Sorreltail, thinking it would be as well not to mention the confrontation with WindClan they had just witnessed. “Is all well in RiverClan?”
Mistyfoot inclined her head. “Yes, everything’s fine, except…” She paused and then went on: “Have you seen anything of Stormfur and Feathertail? They disappeared from our territory four dawns ago. No cat has seen them since.”
“We tracked them as far as Fourtrees, but of course we couldn’t search on other Clans’ territories,” Hawkfrost added, coming up in time to hear what his deputy was saying.
The black warrior stayed where he was, keeping watch beside the riverbank.
Hawkfrost dipped his head courteously to Leafpaw and Sorreltail. He was a powerful tabby with a glossy dark pelt, and for a heartbeat Leafpaw thought he reminded her of some cat she had seen before—but no other cat in the forest had such icy, piercing blue eyes.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Feathertail and Stormfur have left RiverClan?”
“Yes.” Mistyfoot’s eyes were troubled. “We thought they must have decided to go to ThunderClan to be with their father.”