Leaving the others with Percy, Stick slid out from behind the wood stack and raced across the rough ground to leap onto the roof of a shed. From there he looked out over the place he had always called home. The milky light of dawn uncovered thin grass and scrubby trees, surrounded by Twoleg fences and dens.
I know every hiding place, every puddle, every corner where mice make nests.
But now everything had changed. The familiar alleys and rooftops hid an enemy: Dodge and the cats he had brought with him to steal this place from those who had lived here forever. Cats who would rather fight than hunt, who enjoyed inflicting fear and pain. Cats who prowled around looking for trouble.
And Red is out there…
Chapter 9
“We may not have rival Clans on our borders, but there are always enemies out there!” Patchfoot announced as he beckoned his patrol with his tail. “We have to make sure the border markings are good and fresh.”
Leafstar watched as Billystorm and Ebonyclaw padded up to join the black-and-white warrior at the foot of the Rockpile. Their apprentices bounced eagerly behind them. It was the day after Sharpclaw’s training exercises, and the Clan leader was pleased to see her Clanmates so enthusiastic about regular tasks.
“I’ve never reset the markers before,” Frecklepaw meowed. “This is really exciting!”
Snookpaw lashed his tail and fluffed up his neck fur. “Those foxes and rogue cats had better watch out! We’ll see off anything that tries to set paw on SkyClan territory.”
Amusement prickled Leafstar’s pelt and she let out a soft purr of pride. I hope these apprentices decide to stay with the Clan. They’ll make fine warriors.
She noticed Cora and Shorty standing a few tail-lengths away, sharing bemused glances at the talk of border markers. “Would you like to join the patrol?” Leafstar invited. “If there’s trouble, we could do with a few more paws.”
Cora hesitated, then gave a restrained nod; Shorty kneaded the ground with his front paws, his eyes gleaming. “Let’s go!” he mewed.
Leafstar padded up to Patchfoot with the Twolegplace cats following. “Okay if we join you?”
Surprise flickered in Patchfoot’s eyes as he dipped his head. “Of course, Leafstar.”
He led the way up the trail, winding back and forth across the face of the cliff. Leafstar enjoyed the feeling of the breeze blowing through her pelt and the warmth of the stone under her pads. It’s good to be out of the camp. I haven’t patrolled the borders for ages.
When the patrol reached the top of the cliff, Shorty pushed forward until he could squeeze between Patchfoot and Leafstar as they weaved through the undergrowth. “What do you do if you meet a fox?” he puffed. “How can you practice fighting one?”
Leafstar flicked her ears to Patchfoot, indicating that he should answer.
“We practice the usual battle moves,” the black-and-white warrior meowed. “They work on anything… foxes, other cats—”
“Badgers!” Snookpaw put in, waving his tail wildly.
“If you spot a badger, you tell a senior warrior right away,” Billystorm warned him, flicking his tail sharply over his apprentice’s ear. “Do not try fighting one on your own.”
Leafstar nodded. “Even senior warriors wouldn’t tackle a badger without plenty of backup,” she meowed. “And you’d have to be pretty stupid to attack a fox alone. That’s why we train apprentices to fight as a team.”
“We’d like to learn that,” Shorty commented, glancing over his shoulder at the other Twolegplace cat. “Wouldn’t we, Cora?”
The black she-cat twitched her whiskers. “It would be useful.”
“And what would you do if you found a strange scent on the border?” Shorty went on eagerly.
“The first job would be to protect the camp—” Leafstar began.
“We’d follow the scent and track down the intruder,” Ebonyclaw meowed at the same moment.
“Huh?” Shorty glanced from one to the other, looking baffled.
Ebonyclaw seemed to realize that she had interrupted her Clan leader, and had given advice that directly contradicted her. She slapped her tail over her jaws and took a step back. “Sorry,” she muttered through a mouthful of fur.
Leafstar took a pace toward her and rested her tail-tip on the embarrassed she-cat’s shoulder. “We’re both right,” she purred. “Protecting the camp and tracking down the intruder are equally important. What we did first would depend on the number of warriors available.”
“And apprentices!” Frecklepaw squeaked, her eyes gleaming.
The patrol prowled on through the undergrowth, setting scent markers as they went. With a mrrow of satisfaction Leafstar skirted the boulder where Firestar had set a marker when he first defined the SkyClan borders. The Clan had grown since then, and Leafstar had expanded the territory by setting the next marker on an ivy-covered tree stump several fox-lengths farther from the edge of the gorge. The change had brought a wide stretch of prey-rich woodland inside SkyClan’s borders.
Patchfoot was heading for the Twolegplace when he suddenly halted; his jaws were open to taste the air and the fur on his neck began to rise. Leafstar stopped beside him and tasted the air for herself.
No! It can’t be! Panic jumped in Leafstar’s throat. Not now, when the Clan is doing so well!
The rest of the patrol was milling around confusedly, not knowing why Patchfoot and Leafstar had halted.
“What is it?” Frecklepaw called; the young cat sounded scared, and she flattened her ears as she gazed around as if she expected a fox to leap out of the undergrowth.
Shorty stepped forward to Leafstar’s side and took a good sniff of the air. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “Even though we’re on a border patrol, we’re still allowed to hunt, right?” When none of the others replied, he glanced around, puzzled. “You do eat rats, don’t you?”
The name of her Clan’s worst enemy plunged Leafstar back into the memories she had tried so hard to forget: narrow rat faces with cruel eyes, snakelike tails, sharp claws, the overwhelming stench of rotting things. She felt once again the powerless surge of fury as the rat swarm rushed over her and her Clanmates, drowning them in a choking brown tide. She struggled to escape the barn; she gazed once more at Rainfur’s body, bleeding from countless bites.
“Oh, wow! Rats! Just like in the stories!”
Frecklepaw’s awed whisper brought Leafstar back to the present. She dug her claws into the ground to stop herself from fleeing back to the camp, chased by scenes she would never forget.
“Is something wrong?” Cora prompted, padding up with concern in her eyes.
Leafstar swallowed, forcing herself to speak calmly. “SkyClan had a lot of trouble with rats a couple of seasons ago,” she explained. “We—”
“There were more rats than you could count!” Frecklepaw interrupted. “Cherrytail told me about it. They wanted to kill all the cats and take the gorge—”
“That’s enough.” Leafstar’s voice was curt. If the rats are back, we have troubles enough, without an apprentice frightening the whole Clan. “We need to work out what to do.”
“Maybe we should go back to camp,” Ebonyclaw suggested, shuffling her paws.
Leafstar could see Patchfoot nodding; she would have liked nothing better than to agree, to turn her back on the problem and flee to the safety of the dens. But that’s not why StarClan made me Clan leader.
“We need to check this out first,” she meowed firmly, “and find out where the scent is coming from.” To Cora and Shorty she added, “We won’t hunt today.”
Leafstar took the lead, creeping through the undergrowth with the patrol hard on her hindquarters. The scent of rat grew stronger, along with Twoleg scent and the stink of crow-food. The undergrowth around them became thicker and thicker, until it was hard to force a path through the stems; tendrils of bramble snagged the cats’ fur and leaves clogged their ears and eyes, leaving them stumbling blindly.