“What are they doing?” Leafstar whispered.
Billystorm shrugged. “They call that thing a ball. I think it’s for some sort of apprentice training exercise. Sometimes my housefolk throw one for me to chase.”
“And do you chase it?” Leafstar asked.
Billystorm gave his chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks. “It’s good fun, actually. And it’s practice for hunting.”
Leafstar purred, amused.
Billystorm led her across the grass at a swift trot, in the shade of the bushes so that the Twoleg kits didn’t spot them. “We have to be careful now,” he warned Leafstar as they approached the next fence. “There’s a dog through here, and the Twolegs let it roam loose.”
Leafstar felt her pelt prickle and her neck fur begin to rise. She wanted to ask, Do we have to go this way? But she was afraid that Billystorm would think she was a coward. I’m his Clan leader! He has to respect me.
“Right, lead on,” she mewed tensely.
Billystorm crept along the fence until he came to a spot where the wooden boards had rotted away at the bottom. He squeezed underneath, then poked his head back through the hole. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “But keep quiet.”
Leafstar pushed herself through the gap, feeling the bottom of the rotting wood scrape her back. She rose to her paws among more shrubs with dark leaves and huge, sweet-smelling flowers.
“The scent should hide us from the dog,” Billystorm explained.
As she followed him through the bushes Leafstar caught glimpses of the dog between the branches: a huge creature with shaggy black-and-brown hair and floppy ears. It was lying on a stretch of stone near the door of the Twoleg nest, separated from the cats by a stretch of grass; its nose lay on its paws and it looked as if it was asleep.
As she and Billystorm started along the second side of the enclosure, Leafstar began to relax, though she kept casting cautious glances at the dog. But the heavy scent of the flowers was tickling her nostrils, and before she and her Clanmate could reach the safety of the far fence, she let out an enormous sneeze.
Instantly the dog sprang to its paws and hurled itself across the grass with a series of deep-throated barks.
“Run!” Billystorm yowled, shoving Leafstar in front of him.
Leafstar raced through the bushes, imagining she could hear the dog panting behind her, and feel its hot breath on her fur. Its rank smell swamped everything, even the heavy scent of the flowers.
With Billystorm hard on her paws she crashed between two shrubs at the foot of the fence and clawed her way to the top. Billystorm sprang up beside her as she crouched there, shivering. Below them, the dog was standing on its hind paws with its forepaws halfway up the fence, and its tongue lolled as it barked.
“Shove off, flea-pelt,” Billystorm hissed. “Go and chase beetles.” He didn’t seem frightened, just annoyed. Turning his back on the dog, he led the way along the top of the fence. Leafstar began to follow him, only to freeze again as another flurry of barking broke out from the next Twoleg den.
“It’s okay,” Billystorm meowed, glancing back. “This dog is usually shut in the house.”
“‘Usually’ isn’t ‘always,’” Leafstar muttered as she forced her paws to move again.
They had crept several fox-lengths along the fence when Leafstar heard a rattling noise. Her belly fluttered as a small door in the big Twoleg door swung open. But no dog appeared; instead a dark tabby tom slid through the opening. He brought with him a waft of familiar scent, and there was a distinctive shape to his pricked ears.
“Shortwhisker!” Leafstar gasped. “No—sorry—I mean Hutch.” She leaped down from the fence and bounded across the garden to touch noses with the dark tabby.
Billystorm followed more slowly. “You two know each other?” he asked, looking stunned.
“Oh, yes,” Leafstar replied. “Hutch used to belong to SkyClan, back in the early days when Firestar was with us. But he decided that being a kittypet suited him better.”
“The life of a warrior wasn’t for me,” Hutch declared quite cheerfully. “It’s good to see you again, Leafstar. The Clan must be doing well—you look almost as well fed as me.” He paused, looking Billystorm over from ears to tail-tip. “What do you want, trespassing on my territory?”
“He’s with me,” Leafstar meowed. “He’s my Clanmate.”
Hutch looked puzzled. “But I’ve seen him around here before. Isn’t he a kittypet?”
“Er… I’m sort of both,” Billystorm admitted, giving his shoulder a couple of embarrassed licks.
“Both? Can’t you make up your mind?” Hutch asked with a disdainful sniff.
“There are several cats like that in SkyClan now,” Leafstar put in. “They come to the gorge for training and hunting, and then go back to their housefolk at night.” She hesitated and then added, “You could do that if you want to, Hutch. You could be Shortwhisker again.”
For a heartbeat she thought that Hutch might agree. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Leafstar. I like my life as it is. But it’s still great to see you,” he added warmly. “I’m glad SkyClan is still there.”
“Always,” Leafstar promised, hoping that it was true.
Hutch turned his head at the sound of a Twoleg voice calling from the nest. “I’d better go,” he went on with a touch of wistfulness. “Good-bye, Leafstar. Say hi to all my old Clanmates for me.”
“I will.” Leafstar touched noses with Hutch again before he bounded back across the garden and into the Twoleg den.
I wonder if I should have tried harder to persuade him to be a daylight-warrior, she wondered as she followed Billystorm back onto the fence. He has skills we could use, learned from Firestar and Sandstorm. Maybe Sagepaw and Ebonyclaw would be more willing to take orders from him than the other Twolegplace cats.
Billystorm led her down from the fence, across an alley, and through a half-open gate into yet another enclosed square of grass. “This is where Snookpaw lives,” he announced.
To Leafstar, the Twoleg nest looked exactly like all the others they had passed. “How do you know?” she asked.
“The blue pots over there,” Billystorm replied, pointing with his tail to some round shiny things near the nest door. “The scent of the herbs by the fence. And the little birch tree in the middle of the grass.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Leafstar narrowed her eyes. The tree was a spindly thing trapped in a circle of earth in the middle of a patch of grass. It’s not a proper forest tree.
She tasted the air for Snookpaw’s scent, but there was such a mingled smell of Twolegs and monsters that she couldn’t pick up any trace of it. He must still be shut in. He certainly hasn’t been out here recently.
She and Billystorm crept closer to the nest until they could hide behind a big green object with round paws. Leafstar wrinkled her nose at the rotting scent of Twoleg rubbish that came from it.
“Snookpaw!” Billystorm let out a low wail. “Snookpaw, we’re here! Come out!”
Leafstar joined her voice to his, but there was no sign of the apprentice. Every hair on her pelt prickled with fear. Have the Twolegs taken him away?
She was almost ready to give up, when she spotted a small black-and-white head pop up inside one of the windows.
“There he is!” Billystorm yowled.
Their pelts brushing, the two cats raced up to the window and jumped onto the narrow ledge outside it. Snookpaw pressed his nose against the shiny stuff that filled the window space. Leafstar thought he looked thin and sorry for himself.
“Snookpaw, are you okay?” she meowed.
“I’ll be fine,” Snookpaw replied, his voice faint because of the shiny stuff in the way. “Leafstar, I can’t believe you came here!”
I can’t believe it, either.
“We can’t talk to him like this,” Billystorm muttered with an annoyed flick of his tail. “Leafstar, do you think you could get in through there?” He angled his ears toward a tiny open window at the top of the big closed one.