The forest cats shot out of the door and streaked down the path to the gate. As Brambleclaw squeezed underneath he heard the little Twoleg yowl loudly but he did not stop to listen. “This way!” he shouted, heading for a clump of shrubs.
As he dived under the low-hanging, glossy-leaved branches, he realized to his relief that all his companions were with him.
A moment later, with a lot of puffing and blowing and scrabbling, Purdy joined them.
“Get out of here!” Crowpaw spat at the old tom. “It was you who took us in there, to be caught by Twolegs.” With a pointed glance at Brambleclaw he added, “If you had listened to me, it wouldn’t have happened.”
Purdy twitched an ear, and showed no signs of leaving. “I don’t know what you’re worried about. They’re decent Upwalkers. They wouldn’t hurt a cat none.”
“Just keep her prisoner,” Tawnypelt growled. “That Twoleg kit obviously wanted to turn Feathertail into a kittypet.”
“I wasn’t in any danger,” Feathertail pointed out. “I could have escaped by myself, except I didn’t want to claw the little Twoleg.” She blinked gratefully at the ThunderClan apprentice. “But Squirrelpaw had the best idea.”
Squirrelpaw ducked her head, looking embarrassed. “If ever any of you tell the cats back home that I purred at a Twoleg,” she mewed through gritted teeth, “I’ll turn you into crowfood, and that’s a promise.”
In spite of Crowpaw’s protests, the journeying cats trekked on with Purdy as their guide. All day the old tabby led them along hard Twoleg paths that made their paws burn, where they had to slink along in the shelter of walls or dart across Thunderpaths under the noses of monsters roaring down on them.
By the end of the day Brambleclaw was exhausted, finding it hard to put one paw in front of the others. His companions were no better. Squirrelpaw was limping and Crowpaw’s tail drooped; Brambleclaw remembered that the black-pelted apprentice still hadn’t eaten, and he wondered if there would be any prey to be found so deep in Twoleg territory.
“Purdy!” he called, forcing himself to quicken his pace and catch up with the old cat. “Is there anywhere safe we can spend the night? Anywhere we can find food—not kittypet food,” he added. “We need somewhere to hunt.”
Purdy flopped down in the angle where two Thunderpaths met, and raised one hind paw to scratch his ear. “Don’t know about prey,” he rasped. “There’s a place we can spend the night just up ahead.”
“How far?” Tawnypelt growled. “My paws are dropping off.”
“Not far.” Purdy heaved himself to his paws again; Brambleclaw had to admit the old cat was showing more stamina than he would have expected on the seemingly endless journey. “Not far at all.”
As Brambleclaw braced himself to set off again, he spotted a faint reddish gleam falling on the hard surface of the Thunderpath. His head whipped around and he stared in horror. The clouds were clearing away on the horizon, and now, in the gap between two of the Twoleg nests, he could see the setting sun. It was behind them. They had been traveling in completely the wrong direction!
“Purdy!” His voice was a strangled yowl. “Look!”
The old cat blinked at the red light in the sky. “Fine weather tomorrow, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Fine weather!” Crowpaw hissed. “He’s been leading us wrong all day.”
Squirrelpaw sank down on the hard ground and put her head on her paws.
“We’re supposed to be going toward the sunset,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “Purdy, do you really know how to find the sun-drown place?”
“’Course I do,” Purdy defended himself, his rumpled fur beginning to bristle. “It’s just… well, goin’ through Upwalker places, you get turned around on yourself now and then.”
“He doesn’t know,” Tawnypelt mewed flatly.
“Of course he doesn’t,” Crowpaw scoffed. “He couldn’t find his own tail. Let’s leave him here and carry on by ourselves.”
Another monster roared by; Stormfur, who had been standing nearest the edge of the Thunderpath, jumped back as a shower of grit spattered his fur.
“Look,” he meowed, “I agree that Purdy’s leading us the wrong way. But we can’t go off on our own now. We’d never get out of this Twolegplace.”
Feathertail nodded glumly, padding over to stand beside her brother and lick the grit off his fur.
Brambleclaw knew they were right; he forced down frustration at the thought of how much time they were wasting.
“Okay,” he meowed. “Purdy, show us this place where we can sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”
Ignoring a contemptuous noise from Crowpaw, he set out once again in the pawsteps of the old tabby.
By the time they reached Purdy’s sleeping place, the sky was almost completely dark, but their path was lit up with a harsh glare from Twoleg lights like small, dirty suns. The old tabby led them to a stretch of shrubs and grass, surrounded by a spiky fence with gaps between the posts where a cat could easily slip through. There was shelter, water in shallow puddles, and even the scent of prey.
“There!” Purdy meowed, twitching his whiskers with satisfaction. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
It wasn’t bad at all, Brambleclaw decided, wondering whether Purdy had really meant to lead them here, or if finding the place was just a lucky accident. Tired though they were, they hunted at once; the mice they caught were scrawny and reeked of Twolegplace, but they tasted like the juiciest voles to the hungry forest cats.
Squirrelpaw polished hers off, looked around for more, and sighed. “What wouldn’t I give for a bowl of kittypet milk! I’m joking,” she added, as Crowpaw curled his lip at her. “Lighten up, will you?”
Crowpaw turned his back, too exhausted for a real quarrel.
To Brambleclaw’s relief, it was not long before all his companions settled down to sleep. He curled up under some low-growing branches, where he could almost imagine himself back in the warriors’ den. Gazing through the gaps between the leaves, he looked up at the sky, but the harsh Twoleg lights cut off the glitter of Silverpelt. StarClan seemed very far away.
The next day they struggled on under Purdy’s directions.
Brambleclaw felt as if he had been plodding along for the length of an elder’s life, at the base of tall Twoleg walls that were as steep as the cliff at the sun-drown place. By now he was pretty much convinced that the old tabby was ambling along at random, not caring if they were going the right way or not. But the forest cats had no hope of finding their own way out of the Twolegplace. Cloud covered the sun again, so there was no help there, and now and again rain fell in a cold spatter.
“We’ll never get out of this.” Tawnypelt echoed Brambleclaw’s thoughts as they lined up to cross another Thunderpath.
“You might as well stop complaining,” Stormfur retorted.
“There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Brambleclaw was surprised to hear such a hostile response from the easygoing RiverClan warrior. But they were all still tired, even after the night’s sleep, and hope was trickling away like water falling onto sand. As Tawnypelt glared, her neck fur bristling, he stepped in front of her. “Take it easy, both of you,” he meowed.
He broke off when Stormfur whipped around and pelted across the Thunderpath, almost straight under the paws of an approaching monster. Feathertail let out a distressed mew and sprang after him.
“And don’t take stupid risks!” Brambleclaw yelled after them.
The RiverClan warriors ignored him. Shrugging, Brambleclaw turned to Squirrelpaw, who was crouching beside him at the edge of the Thunderpath, watching for her chance to cross.
“I’ll tell you when it’s safe to go,” he told her.