“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” Cloudtail muttered to Dustpelt.
The brown tabby warrior grunted. “True. We could probably charge straight through the WindClan camp without any of the warriors lifting a paw.”
“That’s not fair!” Sorreltail protested. “Onewhisker would defend his camp as fiercely as any warrior.”
Dustpelt and Cloudtail exchanged a glance; Brambleclaw could tell they weren’t convinced.
The cats padded along the edge of the lake; the water grew darker as the scarlet faded from the horizon and the first stars appeared. Brambleclaw found his gaze dragged back more than once to where Squirrelflight and Leafpaw walked side by side at the back of the group. He was comforted by the fact that at least she wasn’t with Ashfur, who was talking to Rainwhisker and Cinderpelt. Brambleclaw thought that the young gray warrior paid far too much attention to Squirrelflight.
By the time they were nearing the Twoleg horseplace, the full moon had floated away from the trailing wisps of cloud and was flooding the lake and its shore with pale silver light.
Just before they reached the fence, Onewhisker appeared on the brow of the hill above them, flanked by several of his Clanmates. Brambleclaw was surprised to see that Mudclaw was with him, but there was no sign of the new deputy, Ashfoot.
Firestar stopped and waited for the WindClan cats to catch up, greeting Onewhisker with a friendly purr. Although the two leaders walked on side by side, the warriors behind them stayed with their own Clanmates. Brambleclaw spotted Crowfeather and waved his tail to catch his attention, but instead of padding over to greet him, Crowfeather just acknowledged him with a brief nod.
Suddenly Firestar raised his tail for them to halt.
Brambleclaw padded quietly forward to find out what was going on. He paused to taste the air and his neck fur began to rise when he made out the scent of strange cats.
“More kittypets?” he muttered to Crowfeather.
The WindClan warrior bristled, his ears pricked.
Brambleclaw followed his gaze and spotted a tiny movement in the grass on the other side of the Twoleg fence. A moment later two cats emerged. The first was a muscular gray-and-white tom; he glared at them through the fence with his lips drawn back in a snarl.
“Who are you and what do you want?” he demanded.
Mudclaw and Cloudtail both sprang forward, ready for battle, but Firestar waved them back with his tail. “We’re not looking for trouble,” he meowed. “We have come to live near here.”
“There are so many of you!” the second cat, a queen with long, creamy fur, exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise. Her heavy round belly showed that she was expecting kits.
“Actually, there are more than this,” Onewhisker told her.
“But Firestar’s right: we won’t bother you.”
“Provided you don’t bother us,” Mudclaw snarled.
The strange tom fluffed up his neck fur. “Set one paw inside this fence…”
“Why would we do that?” Squirrelflight asked, pushing forward with a gleam of curiosity in her green eyes. “We don’t live with Twolegs.”
“Twolegs?” The long-furred queen looked bewildered.
“The pink creatures who walk on their hindlegs,” Brambleclaw explained. On their journey to meet Midnight they had discovered that not all cats used the same words.
“They live in red stone nests like the one over there,” he added, gesturing with his tail to the Twoleg nest on the other side of the horseplace.
“Oh, you mean Nofurs,” mewed the queen. “We don’t live with them either. We live in the stable with the horses.”
Brambleclaw tipped his head to one side, puzzled. It sounded as if these two cats were loners, like Barley and Ravenpaw, who lived in a barn near the old territory. But he couldn’t imagine any cats wanting to live this close to a Twoleg nest unless they were kittypets, let alone make their home where they could be crushed under the horses’ huge feet.
The gray-and-white tom twitched the tip of his tail.
“Move on,” he ordered. “We don’t want you here.”
“There’s no need to be unfriendly,” Squirrelflight protested, while Mudclaw unsheathed his claws and sank them into the grass. Brambleclaw flexed his shoulders and sank his weight onto his haunches. If the strange tom insisted on being this aggressive, there would be a fight.
A small white WindClan queen flicked out her tail to bar Mudclaw’s way. “Calm down,” she mewed. “Can’t you scent the kits? He’s only defending his nursery.”
Brambleclaw drew a long breath over his scent glands.
Whitetail was right; there were more cats here than the two they could see, including kits.
The creamy brown she-cat looked impressed. “There is another cat living here,” she meowed. “Floss had her kits yesterday. These cats are okay,” she added, butting her companion in the shoulder. “I don’t think we need to worry about them.”
“None of us would hurt kits,” Firestar promised.
The tomcat took a step back, his neck fur beginning to lie flat. “Make sure you don’t,” he rasped. He half turned away, then glanced back. “I’m Smoky, and this is Daisy. And you might want to know that there’s a dog in the nest with the Nofurs. Small, black-and-white, very yappy. They usually keep it inside, but sometimes it gets loose.”
“Thanks,” Firestar replied. “We’ll keep a lookout.”
Smoky nodded curtly and padded off, jerking his head for Daisy to follow him. She hesitated a moment longer before going after him. Her pale fur faded quickly into the darkness.
“Good-bye!” Squirrelflight called. “See you again sometime!”
The Clan cats set off again, skirting the fence and following the line of the shore until they reached the clump of trees where they had made their temporary camp. ShadowClan and RiverClan were already there, and almost the first cat Brambleclaw spotted was his sister, Tawnypelt. As he headed over to see her, Rainwhisker bounded past him to greet a young warrior from RiverClan.
“Hi, Swallowtail! How’s the prey running?”
The dark tabby she-cat flicked an awkward glance toward her Clan leader, Leopardstar, who was sitting a couple of tail-lengths away. “Fine,” she murmured.
Rainwhisker bent down to lick her ears in greeting, then jerked his head back. Embarrassed, he licked his own paw instead and swiped it over his face. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I keep forgetting things are different now.”
Tawnypelt came up, but after that abrupt reminder of Clan differences Brambleclaw stayed a tail-length away from her and formally dipped his head. “It’s good to see you,” he meowed.
“And you, mousebrain.” Tawnypelt stepped forward to press her muzzle against Brambleclaw’s. “This is ridiculous!
We’ve been through far too much together to forget about the past. Sharing memories, and liking each other because of it, doesn’t make us traitors to our Clans!”
Brambleclaw blinked. She was right, but he knew that other cats didn’t feel the same. A little way off, a group of ShadowClan cats was glaring at them, including Rowanclaw, the one who had attacked him when he accidentally crossed the other Clan’s scent markings. As Brambleclaw met his furious gaze, Rowanclaw turned to make a sneering remark to one of his Clanmates. Brambleclaw was too far away to hear, but he could guess it was a long way from being compli-mentary.
He headed for the tree stump, wanting to find a good place to listen to the leaders. He had gone only a few pawsteps when Hawkfrost appeared. The broad-shouldered tabby warrior looked expectantly at Brambleclaw as if he were waiting for him to speak first.
“Er, hi,” Brambleclaw meowed. Moonlight dappled Hawkfrost’s pelt, reminding Brambleclaw sharply of his dream. “How are you settling in?”
Hawkfrost dipped his head. “Fine, thank you.” His voice was cool, and Brambleclaw backed away, feeling his pelt prickle. Did Hawkfrost think he was being disloyal to ThunderClan by talking to him?