Once again Blackstar gestured with his tail. “You’ll make these ThunderClan cats think we don’t want to cooperate,” he told her. “Suppose we ask Tawnypelt what she wants to do?
It’s her decision.”
Lionpaw flashed a glance at his father, but Brambleclaw avoided his gaze. It was clear that Blackstar expected Tawnypelt would decide to stay with her Clanmates and her kits.
Blackstar leaped down from the stump and led the way across the camp to a bramble thicket on the far side. “This is our nursery,” he meowed. “Go in and see her.”
Brambleclaw nodded in thanks and lowered his head to creep through the narrow entrance. Lionpaw followed; to his relief Blackstar remained outside.
ShadowClan’s nursery was bigger than the one in the stone hollow, but it had the same cozy covering of moss on the floor and the same warm, milky smell. As Lionpaw’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he made out the glimmering shape of a white queen with a huge swollen belly, curled in a mossy nest. Her ears pricked anxiously as the two ThunderClan cats entered.
“Brambleclaw!” The exclamation came from farther inside the nursery. Lionpaw spotted Tawnypelt, her head raised and her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to see you,” Brambleclaw replied. “I’ve got something to ask you.”
Before he could say any more, Tawnypelt’s kits scrambled out of their nest and bounced over to Brambleclaw and Lionpaw.
“Who are you?” The biggest kit, a tiger-striped tom, stretched up until his whiskers tickled Lionpaw’s nose.
Lionpaw edged back, stifling a sneeze. “My name’s Lionpaw. I’m an apprentice from—”
His father gave him a warning nudge. “We’re ThunderClan cats,” he replied.
“Oh, that’s why you smell all yucky!” A tiny tom with dark ginger fur wrinkled his nose.
Not half as yucky as you do.
The third kit, a gray she-cat, bounded up to Lionpaw and flung herself at him; he was so surprised that he lost his balance and landed on his side in the moss.
“We’re the best fighters!” the gray kit yowled. “Come on, let’s defend the camp!”
Instantly the other two kits bundled on top of Lionpaw.
For a heartbeat he wondered if ShadowClan was so hostile that even the kits tried to drive out intruders; then he realized that it was only a game. The kits’ claws were sheathed, and their eyes gleamed with mischief, not anger. He fought back, pushing the kits off him and managing to get to his paws again, spitting out moss.
“That’s no way to welcome a visitor,” Tawnypelt scolded them. “Brambleclaw, these are my kits—the striped one is Tigerkit, the ginger is Flamekit, and the one who’s asking for a cuff around the ear is Dawnkit.” She glared at the she-cat, who was creeping up on Lionpaw’s tail as if it were a piece of prey.
Tigerkit! Lionpaw stiffened. Did Tawnypelt hope that her son would become as great a warrior as Tigerstar? Would this kit receive the same training from their ancestor as Lionpaw did?
“Kits!” Tawnypelt warned her litter to behave. “Come over here, Brambleclaw, and tell me what all this is about.”
Absorbed in trying to keep his tail out of reach of Dawnkit, who clearly hadn’t listened to her mother’s warning, Lionpaw didn’t hear his father’s explanation. But he stopped, fur tingling with excitement, when he heard Tawnypelt mew, “I will come.”
The tortoiseshell she-cat’s eyes were shining as she clambered out of her nest. All three kits gave up chasing Lionpaw and stared at their mother.
“What do you mean?” Tigerkit asked.
“You’re not going to leave us?” Dawnkit wailed.
“I have to go with Brambleclaw for a while,” Tawnypelt told them. “You remember the stories I’ve told you, about the cats who live in the mountains behind a wall of tumbling water? Well, those cats need my help, so I have to go.”
“Then can we come with you?” Flamekit asked. “Please.”
“We’d be really helpful,” Tigerkit added.
“No, you’re too young.” Tawnypelt padded over to the three kits and touched her nose to each one in turn. “Be good, and eat your fresh-kill, and expect me back when the moon has been the same shape twice.”
“I’ll keep an eye on them,” the white she-cat promised from the shadows.
“Thanks, Snowbird. There, you see,” Tawnypelt added to her kits, “Snowbird will take care of you, and she’ll tell me if you’ve been naughty.”
“We won’t,” Tigerkit promised.
“Even if we never get to have any fun,” Dawnkit muttered.
Tawnypelt gave her daughter a gentle flick over the ear with her tail. “Good-bye then,” she purred.
“Good-bye,” the kits chorused, their eyes wide.
Tawnypelt led the way out of the nursery, with Brambleclaw hard on her paws. Lionpaw paused to look back at the kits. Good-bye, kin, he whispered to himself as he followed his father into the clearing.
Outside the nursery, Blackstar and Tawnypelt were confronting each other.
“What do you mean, you want to go?” the Clan leader demanded.
“You said it was her decision,” Brambleclaw reminded him.
Blackstar lashed his tail but said nothing.
“We might have known,” Russetfur spat. “It just goes to show that she’s not a loyal ShadowClan cat.”
Tawnypelt arched her back. “Don’t you dare call me dis-loyal!”
“Tawnypelt.” The warrior called Rowanclaw padded up beside Tawnypelt and pressed his ginger muzzle against her shoulder. She leaned against him, her fur beginning to lie flat again. Lionpaw remembered that Rowanclaw was her mate, the father of her kits.
“It’s nonsense to say that Tawnypelt isn’t loyal,” he meowed to Russetfur. “I haven’t forgotten all the Tribe cats did for us, even if you have. They deserve our help.” He bent his head to give Tawnypelt a gentle lick between the ears.
“I’m proud of you for going,” he mewed. “And don’t worry about the kits. I’ll look after them.”
Tawnypelt let out a soft purr. “Thanks, Rowanclaw.” Turning to Brambleclaw, she meowed more briskly, “Shall we go?”
Lionpaw thought his father looked stunned, as if he hadn’t expected to get her agreement so easily.
“There’s no time to lose,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “Not when we still have to make the long journey to the mountains.”
“True,” Brambleclaw murmured. “Thank you, Blackstar,” he added to the ShadowClan leader. “I’m sure StarClan will approve of what you have done today.”
Blackstar nodded, looking awkward; Lionpaw knew very well he hadn’t intended things to turn out like this. Russetfur just let out an annoyed hiss and turned away, lashing her tail.
Excitement flooded through him once more as he raced back through the forest with Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt.
He felt sure that Squirrelflight and Hollypaw must have had the same success in WindClan. Cats from all Clans were uniting to help the Tribe! This was even better than just going to visit the mountains. Maybe he would be part of another incredible story, and one day the Clans would tell it to their kits, just as they told the story of the Great Journey.
Chapter 12
Hollypaw stood on the bank of the stream that formed the border with WindClan, not far from the stepping stones. Wind from the moor slicked her fur to her sides, bringing the scent of cats and rabbits and the tough moorland grass.
Beside her, Squirrelflight waited, the tip of her tail twitching. Hollypaw could understand why her mother was uneasy.
The WindClan border was still a sensitive area, after all the trouble when the WindClan kits went missing.
Her thoughts fled back to the tunnels and the surging underground river. She and the other apprentices had barely made it out alive with the kits. Hollypaw hoped that the tunnels would stay hidden for a long time, so there would be no more chance of misunderstandings.