“Needlepaw took Violetkit out of camp.” Tawny pelt stepped aside and let Needlepaw face
Rowanstar.
Violetkit halted. Her paws felt shaky as she sensed the eyes of the other cats lifting from their fresh-kill and fixing on her. She glanced nervously at Needlepaw. Was her friend in serious trouble? And what about me? Did ShadowClan punish kits?
Rowanstar glared at Needlepaw. “Kits don’t leave camp,” he meowed sternly. “What were y ou thinking? There m ay be rogues in the forest. There are certainly foxes, and Spikefur said he saw an adder yesterday. A warrior would be lucky to survive an adder bite. A kit would die.”
Needlepaw blinked at him coolly. “I look out for adders and foxes. I wouldn’t let any thing hurt her.”
Rowanstar’s hackles lifted as though he was surprised to hear her talk back. “Kits do not leave camp,” he repeated.
Needlepaw glanced calm ly at Beepaw beside the fresh-kill pile. “It’s a dum b rule.”
Beepaw leaned closer, her eyes sparking with interest.
Violetkit stared at Needlepaw, shock fizzing through her fur. Had she really said that? And why had she shot a sly glance at Beepaw? Had they been planning to challenge Rowanstar like this?
Crowfrost stood up. His tail twitched angrily as Needlepaw went on.
“Like I told Tawny pelt, Violetkit was bored in camp.” She flicked her m uzzle dismissively toward the clearing. “There’s nothing to learn here except how to grow old.”
Sleekpaw, Juniperpaw, Yarrowpaw, and Strikepaw were padding closer, their eyes flashing with interest. Birchpaw and Lionpaw hung back, ey eing each other nervously, but Beepaw pricked her ears excitedly, as though willing Needlepaw to say more.
Rowanstar’s gaze flicked toward them, then back to Needlepaw. It was blazing with anger.
“There is plenty to learn in camp,” he hissed. “The warrior code, for a start. Too many rules are being ignored.”
“It’s im possible to remember all your rules.” Needlepaw flicked her tail irritably. “Perhaps if we had fewer rules, we’d obey more of them.”
Crowfrost flattened his ears. “Perhaps if we had sm arter apprentices, they wouldn’t have such a hard time remembering.”
Sleekpaw and Strikepaw, Crowfrost’s kits, hissed at the ShadowClan deputy. “Are you calling us dum b?”
Strikepaw glared at his father. “If you treated us better, we might try harder,” he snarled.
“Don’t forget there are nearly as many of us as there are of y ou. You’d be wise to give us a little more respect.”
Was that a threat? Violetkit stared at him, her m outh open. She shifted her paws uneasily. The apprentices were edging nearer to Needlepaw, as though gaining confidence with every complaint. Had they planned this rebellion, or had Needlepaw’s boldness sparked resentm ents that had been sim m ering for moons?
Yarrowpaw and Juniperpaw flicked their tails irritably. Beepaw padded from the fresh-kill pile to j oin them.
“Respect!” Rowanstar narrowed his eyes. “Respect has to be earned.” His growl was hard.
Beepaw tipped her head. “I don’t see the older cats earning any respect. All they do is hunt and sleep.”
Snowbird padded forward quickly, her pelt ruffled. “Beepaw!” She blinked at her daughter anxiously. “You mustn’t speak about your elders like that.”
“Why not?” Beepaw m oved closer to Yarrowpaw. “You taught us that ShadowClan cats can say what they like.”
Alarm sparked in Snowbird’s gaze as her kits stared at her petulantly. “Where has all this come from?”
Beepaw stared at her mother. “If you ever listened instead of just talking, y ou’d know.”
Crowfrost fluffed out his fur, his nervous gaze on his own kits. Sleekpaw, Juniperpaw, and Strikepaw were bunched close, staring questioningly at Rowanstar.
Sleekpaw lashed her tail. “The elders used to tell stories about how ShadowClan was feared by the other Clans,” she meowed. “Now we only try to make peace.”
Strikepaw snorted. “We hide behind our borders like kitty pets.”
“It’s true!” Juniperpaw agreed. “Not even WindClan respects us any more. At the last
Gathering, Fernpaw called us a bunch of frog-eaters. In the old day s, apprentices from other Clans didn’t even dare speak to us. Ratscar told us that ThunderClan used to tell nursery stories about how terrify ing we were. I bet their nursery stories aren’t so scary now.”
Rowanstar shifted his paws. “Peace brings prey,” he meowed. “Why fight over borders when we have enough prey to feed every cat?”
Ratscar got to his paws. The brown tom’s eyes were narrow. “The apprentices have a point.
ShadowClan used to rule the forest. Now we live like a bunch of ThunderClan cats. All we want is peace and food. We’re hardly better than kitty pets.”
Kinkfur growled. “What nonsense! ShadowClan will always be feared and respected by the other Clans.”
“Even if we’re not feared and respected by our own kits,” Ratscar rasped dry ly.
Oakfur crossed the clearing and faced Rowanstar. “Why can’t the m entors keep their apprentices under control? In m y day, we did what we were told.”
Stonewing shouldered his way through the gathered cats and glared at Juniperpaw. “How could you em barrass m e like this? Haven’t I been a good m entor to y ou? I’ve taught y ou every thing you know.”
Juniperpaw curled his lip. “Cats are born knowing how to hunt and fight. Why do I need you telling me what I already know?”
Stonewing swung his m uzzle accusingly toward Rowanstar. “I warned you the apprentices were getting too big for their pelts.”
Rowanstar glared back at him, pelt spiking. “I shouldn’t have to control your apprentice for y ou.”
Dawnpelt hurried forward and gazed im ploringly at Sleekpaw and her denmates. “I don’t understand why y ou’re so angry. When I was your age, I was proud to be an apprentice,” she mewed. “We all were. We wanted to learn the warrior code.”
“Only because you wanted to be like ThunderClan,” Needlepaw scoffed.
Dawnpelt bristled. “That’s not true!”
Tawny pelt hissed at Needlepaw. “Respect your elders!”
“Not until they respect us!” Sleekpaw butted in.
Angry y owls echoed around the camp. Violetkit shrank against Needlepaw’s flank as the Clan argued around her. Perhaps the warrior code was too restrictive. She’d heard Needlepaw complain about it often enough. But was it worth fighting about? Surely warriors had a code for a reason. Otherwise they’d be nothing but rogues or loners.
“Silence!” Rowanstar leaped onto the low rock at the edge of the clearing and glowered at his Clan. His fur stood on end, and his eyes blazed in the twilight.
The Clan fell silent and watched their leader expectantly.
“Needlepaw.” Rowanstar fixed his furious gaze on the silver apprentice. “You broke a rule and y ou will be punished. You will look after the elders. Clean their bedding, pull out their ticks, and hunt for them. They are your responsibility from now on.”
Needlepaw returned his gaze, unruffled. “For how long?”
Rowanstar showed his teeth. “Until I say so.”
“Okay.” Needlepaw shrugged and turned away. She shouldered her way between her denmates and headed for the fresh-kill pile. Violetkit stared at her. How could she act so cool?
“Violetkit.” Rowanstar’s mew m ade her j um p.
She stared at him, her heart in her throat.
“You shouldn’t have left camp.” The ShadowClan leader’s mew was stern. His gaze flicked toward the nursery. Pinenose watched from outside. He beckoned the queen forward with a flick of his tail. “You should have been keeping a closer eye on her,” he told the queen as she padded toward him.