Jingo nodded. “We’ll have to come down to the ground here,” she meowed, “because we have to cross that Thunderpath. But I think we’re safe now. The wild dogs don’t often come this far.”
When she reached the grass beside the Thunderpath, Hollyleaf tasted the air. She could pick out the mingled scents of several dogs, but none of them were close by. And no monsters appeared as Jingo paused to listen, then waved her tail for the Clan cats to cross.
Once on the other side, Jingo jumped up onto another wall, this one built of gray stone. Padding along it, Hollyleaf saw that the Twoleg nests here were smaller, with narrower strips of grassy territory behind them. A couple of tiny Twoleg kits were playing on one of the patches of grass, but they didn’t notice the cats as they padded past.
“Is it much farther to Purdy’s nest?” Brackenfur asked. “I think every cat is getting tired and hungry.”
Hollyleaf muttered agreement. Every muscle in her body was aching, and her belly felt like a giant hole. The sky was covered with cloud, but she sensed it was long past sun-high, and no cat had eaten since the fresh-kill in the abandoned Twoleg nest the night before.
“Not far now,” Jingo responded. “We can—”
She broke off as a gust of wind swept across them, bringing with it a slap of icy rain. Birchfall let out a yowl of alarm. Hollyleaf flattened herself to the top of the wall, terrified that the wind would blow her off.
“This way!” Jingo ordered.
She ran along the top of the wall to the fence dividing the Twoleg territories. A bushy pine tree grew close to the wall; Jingo sprang up onto the nearest branch and forced her way in among the needles. Peering out, she called, “Come on! We need to shelter.”
Unbalanced by the buffeting wind, the Clan cats stumbled along the wall and climbed into the tree. Hollyleaf’s pelt was soaked by the time she reached it. The pine needles raked through her fur as she plunged into the branches, clawing for paw holds so she could climb higher.
“What does she think we are, squirrels?” Lionblaze gasped as he struggled upward. The branches dipped and swung under his greater weight, and Hollyleaf suddenly felt the whole tree spinning around. She drove her claws hard into the branch and closed her eyes until the dizzy sensation faded.
“I thought you came from a forest,” Jingo meowed, a tail-length above where Hollyleaf was clinging. “Aren’t you used to trees?”
“We don’t climb that often,” Brambleclaw replied. He had stayed lower down in the tree, just above the spot where it overhung the wall. “If we’re caught in the rain in the forest, we’d rather shelter among the roots of a tree, or under a bush.”
“Well, you learn something new every day,” Jingo responded, sounding amused.
By the time the rainstorm was over, Hollyleaf could tell that the daylight was beginning to fade. I hope we reach Purdy’s den before nightfall. I don’t want to be wandering around this Twolegplace in the dark. Scrambling out of the tree after her Clanmates, she tried to groom the pine needles from her fur, but the whole of her pelt was clumped and messy. I might as well be a rogue, she thought crossly, not a Clan cat at all.
Then a deeper pang shook her. Maybe that’s what I am.
The patrol followed Jingo along more walls and fences, and over the roofs of another set of monster nests, until twilight began to spill from the shadows. Eventually Jingo halted at the corner of a wall.
“See that holly bush?” she meowed, waving her tail in the direction of a dark, bushy mass poking over a fence on the other side of a small Thunderpath. “Purdy’s den is just beyond it.”
“Thank you, Jingo,” Brambleclaw meowed. “We would never have found it without you.”
“You’re welcome,” the she-cat replied. “You’ll be able to hunt and spend the night there. But be careful,” she added more seriously. “Sol has a way of making cats believe in him. I know, because I believed in him, too. Enough to leave my housefolk, where I was happy.” In the gathering dusk, her eyes shone with sadness.
“Why don’t you go back to your housefolk?” Birchfall asked.
“Because the other cats need me,” Jingo replied. “Every cat needs a leader—someone to follow, someone to make the hard decisions. That’s why we listened to Sol. But it’s my job now. I can’t leave them.”
Loneliness throbbed in her voice. Hollyleaf felt desperately sorry for her. A Clan leader was chosen through the warrior code and given nine lives by StarClan. It was a huge honor, and the leader had the support of the Clan deputy, the medicine cat, and the senior warriors. But Jingo had no one.
The tabby she-cat gave herself a shake, as if getting rid of useless regrets. She touched noses with each of the Clan cats. “Good-bye and good luck,” she meowed. “Come and see us if you ever pass our nest again.”
“We will,” Brackenfur promised. “Good-bye and good luck to you, too.”
Jingo dipped her head as the other cats added their good-byes, and turned to pad along the wall, back the way she had come. Her head and her tail were lifted high.
“Good-bye, Jingostar,” Brambleclaw whispered, too softly for the retreating she-cat to hear him. “May StarClan light your path.”
Hollyleaf crouched just behind Brambleclaw in the shadows underneath the holly bush. The Twoleg den beyond looked even more abandoned than the one where Jingo and the others lived. Dark holes gaped in the walls and roof.
“Remember when we met Purdy on the way to the mountains?” Lionblaze murmured into his sister’s ear. “He said his Upwalker had died.”
“Maybe Purdy won’t be here at all,” Hollyleaf suggested. She wasn’t sure whether she would be glad or sorry. She looked forward to meeting the cranky old cat again, but she was afraid of what the encounter with Sol would bring.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Brambleclaw meowed. He began to pick his way through the straggling bushes that surrounded the nest. Hollyleaf’s jaws flooded as she picked up a strong smell of mouse.
“Prey!” Hazeltail’s voice was sharp with hunger. “Brambleclaw, may we hunt?”
The Clan deputy hesitated for a heartbeat. “Okay,” he mewed. “But let’s make it quick. And don’t leave this bit of territory.”
The patrol scattered among the bushes. Hollyleaf soon pinpointed a mouse scurrying through dead leaves, and killed it with a swift blow. “Thanks, StarClan,” she mumbled through the first delicious mouthful. It felt as if she hadn’t eaten for a moon. She had just finished gulping down her fresh-kill when she heard Brambleclaw calling the patrol together. As she slipped through the bushes, another mouse practically ran across her paws. She held it down and bit its throat, then carried the limp body back to her Clanmates.
The others were waiting for her. Lionblaze was swallowing the last of his prey while Birchfall swiped his tongue around his jaws with a satisfied expression.
“Everyone fed?” Brambleclaw asked. “Hollyleaf, are you going to eat that?”
Hollyleaf shook her head. “I already ate,” she explained around the mouse. “I thought we could give this to Purdy.”
Brambleclaw nodded approvingly. “Good idea. Let’s go, then.”
Cautiously, stopping every few paw steps to listen and to taste the air, he led the way up to the Twoleg nest and through the dark, gaping entrance hole. Hollyleaf shivered as she stepped inside. It was even colder here than outside: a raw cold that struck upward from the damp stone floor. Brambles grew through the gaps in the walls, as if the territory outside was invading the nest. There was a musty smell made up of stale prey, rotting leaves, and mold. But there was a smell of cats, too, stronger and fresher than the other scents.
“Purdy?” Brambleclaw called.
There was no reply. The deputy padded forward, with the patrol clustered tightly together behind him. Every hair on Hollyleaf’s pelt prickled. There was something strange about this place, something chilly and unwelcoming.