“Our boundary with ThunderClan has been scent-marked as well,” the ShadowClan leader went on. “We have claimed the territory as far as the stream that flows into the lake, and farther away from the lake, as far as the dead tree on the other side of the stream.”
“I think it would make more sense to make the stream the boundary all along the border,” Firestar meowed calmly.
“It would make more sense to ThunderClan, maybe,” Blackstar retorted. “But the stream curves sharply at the end of the clearing, veering deeper into our territory, and there are pine trees on both banks. Scent marks are scent marks, Firestar. If you don’t like where we have set them, you should have been quicker with your own.”
The ThunderClan leader gave Blackstar a long look. At last he bent his head.
“Very well,” he mewed. “But ThunderClan has set scent markers on a line stretching from the dead tree to a tall holly and then to an abandoned fox den under a white rock. Set one pawstep past that boundary, and ThunderClan will have something to say.”
“That sounds fair,” Ashfur mewed. “Firestar certainly knows the new territory!”
“For our other border,” Firestar went on, looking down at Onewhisker, “I suggest that we stick to our first idea of using the stream that runs at the bottom of the hill. That way, cats of both Clans will have access to the water.”
“Good idea,” Leafpaw murmured.
“I don’t understand why Firestar’s worried about water.”
Squirrelflight twitched her whiskers. “With the lake right outside our dens, we’re hardly going to get thirsty.”
“I think you’re missing the point,” Leafpaw told her. “If Firestar agrees to make the stream our boundary, it means WindClan gets back the stretch of woodland Onewhisker gave to us.”
Squirrelflight blinked. “So this is Firestar’s way of turning him down, without making it look as if Onewhisker were being too generous in the first place?”
Leafpaw nodded.
“Thanks, Firestar.” Onewhisker sounded relieved, although it was impossible to tell whether that was because he wanted to be able to hunt in the trees, or because he knew this would satisfy his more restless warriors. “That’s fine by us. And we’ll take the fence on the far side of the horseplace as our other border.”
“That leaves the rest of the territory for RiverClan,” meowed Leopardstar.
“Except for where we are now,” Firestar warned. “This place should belong to no Clan, so that we have somewhere to gather.”
The RiverClan leader’s eyes narrowed. “You’re very eager to give part of my territory away,” she rasped.
For once Blackstar supported Firestar. “We have to gather somewhere, and there isn’t anywhere else with enough room for all of us.”
“This is obviously RiverClan territory,” Leopardstar insisted. “There are important herbs growing in these marshes.”
Firestar touched her shoulder with his tail. “Leopardstar, our medicine cats hope that StarClan will show us a better place to gather. Give up your claim for now, and maybe by next full moon you will be able to treat all this as yours.”
Leopardstar hesitated, then responded with a curt nod.
“For now, RiverClan will let the four Clans gather here,” she meowed. “But if there is no sign from StarClan within two moons, we will have to think again.”
Firestar went on to tell the other Clans how ThunderClan was settling in, proudly adding that they had already made a new warrior. “Spiderleg keeps his vigil tonight,” he finished.
A shadow fell across the clearing. Leafpaw looked up to see that a cloud had drifted over the moon: not thick enough to hide it completely, but enough to make the night seem dark and eerie. A cold, damp wind swept off the lake, ruffling fur and rattling the branches overhead. Leafpaw noticed some of the cats around her shift uneasily and glance over their shoulders.
“This isn’t like Fourtrees,” Ashfur muttered. “We felt safe there.”
“StarClan is with us, wherever we are,” Leafpaw reminded him, but her words didn’t seem to reassure him or the other cats.
“Onewhisker?” Firestar prompted. “Do you have anything to report? Come up here so we can all hear you.” He jumped down so Onewhisker could take his place on the stump.
“We are settling into our camp,” Onewhisker began.
“Speak up—we can’t hear you.” The testy interruption came from Heavystep, a RiverClan elder.
“And you won’t, if you can’t keep quiet.” To Leafpaw’s surprise it was Mudclaw who sprang up to defend Onewhisker.
“Listen to what our leader has to say.”
Heavystep shot a baleful glare at Mudclaw but said nothing.
Onewhisker started again. “Two of our elders were ill, but they are making a good recovery. We thank ThunderClan for the help they sent us.”
“He shouldn’t have mentioned that,” Leafpaw whispered in Squirrelflight’s ear. “It makes it sound as if WindClan can’t cope without ThunderClan.”
“Maybe they can’t,” Squirrelflight muttered dryly.
Over Squirrelflight’s shoulder, Leafpaw glimpsed something moving in the shadows under the trees. Her pelt prickled with a sense of danger close by. The other cats noticed it too, and half the cats sprang to their paws with their claws extended as two lithe shapes slid out of the darkness. Foxes!
They crept closer, undaunted by the number of cats in the clearing; Leafpaw saw the gleam of their teeth as they drew their lips back in a snarl. With a fierce yowl, Dustpelt hurled himself at one of them. The fox whirled around, snapping at him, but Dustpelt was too fast, clawing its side and darting away out of range of the pointed snout. Rainwhisker, Hawkfrost, and Russetfur raced over to join him, and behind them more cats padded forward in a snarling, bristling line.
Outmatched, the two foxes turned tail and fled, with Dustpelt and a few others hard on their paws. Leafpaw stared into the darkness, her heart pounding, until one by one the cats returned. To her relief, none of them was injured.
Dustpelt padded up to the tree stump, flexing his claws.
“They won’t be so curious next time.”
One or two cats congratulated him, but most were still uneasy, peering around into the shadows as if they expected the foxes to come back. Leafpaw looked up at the sky, clearly visible above the sparse thicket of trees, and wished desperately that they could be back at Fourtrees. They had felt safe there, under the shelter of the four giant oaks, knowing their warrior ancestors had trodden the same ground for uncount-able seasons. There was no sign that their ancestors had ever walked in this place.
“Right,” Blackstar meowed. “Let’s end this Gathering and go home before anything else happens. Unless any other cat wants to speak?”
There was no reply. The cats began dividing into their Clans. There was none of the usual gossip and leave-taking; every cat wanted to be on their way quickly.
“I have to stay behind,” Leafpaw told Squirrelflight.
“There’s a meeting of medicine cats.”
“Will you be okay?” Squirrelflight asked. “Those foxes might be back.”
“Would you come back if Dustpelt had clawed you?”
Squirrelflight brushed Leafpaw’s ear with the tip of her tail. “Fair point, but be careful, all the same.”
Ashfur was waiting for her, and the two cats raced off side by side toward the lake. For once, Squirrelflight didn’t wait to see where Brambleclaw was. Leafpaw saw the tabby warrior a moment later. He had stopped to watch Hawkfrost gathering some RiverClan cats together. With an icy feeling in her fur, Leafpaw wondered if Squirrelflight was right when she accused him of being obsessed with his kin.
She felt a light touch on her side. Mothwing was standing next to her.