The Book

P R O L O G U E

*

          It was midnight. Three cats huddled together outside the medicine den entrance. The rest of the Clan were sleeping, but these three were too worried to sleep. The warm green-leaf wind ruffled their fur, and misty clouds masked the sky overhead. The stars shone through them, shedding their watery light down onto the camp, and the full moon glowed behind a thin, foggy cloud.

            One of the cats, a gray and white she-cat, glanced up at Silverpelt’s swathe of stars unable to ignore the clenching feeling in her chest. Would yet another cat join StarClan tonight? She shivered, and then stared down at the ground.

            The calico she-cat sitting next to her felt her shiver, and pressed herself closer to the young warrior. “It will be alright, Mistyfur,” she whispered.

            Mistyfur glanced up at her mother, her blue eyes clouded with fear. “I hope you’re right, Patchear,” she shakily replied. She closed her eyes as Patchear gave her a reassuring lick on the ear.

Mistyfur glanced at the small tom crouched close to the den entrance. He was staring at the ground, his eyes wide as if still shocked by all that had gone on today.

“Silverpaw,” she meowed, trying to keep the worry out of her voice for his sake, “why don’t you go and get something from the fresh kill pile? It’s been a long day, surely you’re hungry.”

The small cat looked up at Mistyfur. He stared blankly for a moment, as if unaware that she was speaking to him, then he shook his head. “I’m not hungry,” he murmured, wrapping his black tail more tightly around his gray paws. He gave his silver chest fur a couple of nervous licks, and then stared off into the distance.

Mistyfur was about to object, but she stopped herself. Surely the young apprentice was much too worried about his mentor to eat.

She thought back to the day Silverpaw had been apprenticed. It was less than a moon ago. He and Lilystripe had both been very excited. Silverpaw was glad to finally be an apprentice. The days he had spent in the nursery had seemed like an eternity to him, and he was ready for a change. Lilystripe was proud to be getting her first apprentice. She was a young warrior, and had been an apprentice only a few moons before.

The two cats had quickly bonded, and Lilystripe had shown herself to be an excellent mentor. She was kind, and patiently passed on all the knowledge she had to the eager Silverpaw. He was a quick learner, and soaked up every drop of information he was given.

Mistyfur smiled as she remembered those happy days. She had often tagged along with the two cats, since she had no apprentice of her own. Then her face darkened as she remembered the awful events of the day. She cringed as she remembered the awful sight of Lilystripe lying on the forest floor. There was a deep gash in her side and blood oozed out of it. She had several scratches on her face and legs, and her breath came in ragged gasps. The stench of fox was overpoweringly strong.

Mistyfur shook her head, trying to clear the awful memory from her mind. She looked over at Silverpaw. He was lying down with his head resting on his paws. The brown patch on his forehead stood out against his black fur, and his yellow eyes shone in the dark light.

Suddenly, a grief-stricken yowl split the night air. Ravenstar!

Silverpaw sat up and stared into the dark entrance of the den. He could see nothing. Then Ivyfrost padded out of the den. Her white head sagged, and her eyes—one blue and one green—were filled with pain. Not physical pain, but mental anguish.

Mistyfur gasped. “Lilystripe?” she whispered, already knowing the answer.

Ivyfrost looked down and murmured, “She’s gone. I did everything I could, but she just… slipped away…” She looked over at Silverpaw. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Tears rose to Silverpaw’s eyes, but he bravely asked, “May I go in and see her?” His voice quivered.

Ivyfrost nodded, and Silverpaw ducked into the medicine den, his pawsteps heavy with grief.

In the dim light that came through the small spaces in between the bramble tendrils that hid the entrance to the cave, he could just make out the form of Ravenstar. She was sharing tongues with her daughter for the last time. He padded over to her, and sat down, his pelt barely brushing Ravenstar’s. She didn’t look up as she whispered, “Her last words were, ‘make sure Silverpaw’s training goes well.’” A sob shook Ravenstar’s frame as she cried, “She was always so thoughtful. Why did StarClan have to let her die?”

A pang of grief stabbed Silverpaw’s heart as he whispered, “We can’t always know the answers to everything.” He bent down to lick Lilystripe’s gray tabby forehead. “Thank you, Lilystripe. You were the best mentor ever,” he murmured, barely loud enough for anyone but himself to hear. He then began sharing tongues with his dead mentor.

Mistyfur and Patchear joined them in the medicine den, and the four cats silently mourned the loss of Lilystripe.

Chapter One

*

     Duchess bounded out of the kitty-door and onto the low back porch of her owner’s house. The morning sunshine made her newly-cleaned blue-gray tabby pelt gleam. She blinked to adjust her blue eyes to the bright light, and then hopped off the porch and into the tall, dewy grass. Her short legs were quickly soaked as she raced around her yard, stopping to investigate every leaf and stick that she came across, her curious eyes taking in everything she saw. Suddenly she stopped, ears perked and tail erect. She sniffed the air, trying to catch a whiff of the scent that had so alerted her. A faint whiff was all she needed. Slowly she crouched down, crawled towards her target, careful to keep her shiny new collar from jingling. Then... at just the right moment...POUNCED! Perfect timing! The intruding squeaky toy mouse was quickly caught between her tiny paws.
       Duchess was just barely out of kitten-hood. She had been adopted when she was 8 weeks old a few months ago. She was now 6 months old, and still just as full of energy as ever. Her fur was still kit-soft, and she wasn’t very big. In fact, she was small. But size didn’t bother Duchess!
       After wrestling with the squeaky toy for a few minutes, Duchess got bored. She wanted real playmates, and real prey--not just squeaky toys! No cats lived in the houses on either side of hers, and she hadn't been able to get near the fluffy white Persian who lived several houses down. She had seen him through the fence a few times, but had never talked to him. Longingly, she glanced over her shoulder at the woods beyond the metal fence. I bet there are some real mice in there, and I'm sure there are other cats... she thought. She missed the companionship that being around other cats provided. There was a sense of belonging when you had others around you to keep you company. Here, she felt completely alone. There was no one to talk to, no one to play with, and no brothers and sisters to snuggle up with when she went to bed.
       Sighing, she climbed onto the porch and lay down in the warm sunshine. Wistfully, she thought of the days she had spent with her brothers and sister in her old home with her Mother....

* * *

       Two cats had been watching Duchess intently. In the moons that Duchess had lived here, they had taken a great interest in her.
       “Did you see the way she crept through the grass, Silverpaw? With some practice, I think she could be a great hunter!” a sleek reddish-brown she-cat whispered to the cat next to her.
       “I agree, Ravenstar.” Silverpaw meowed. He was an average-sized black cat with a patch of brown fur on his forehead, and a silvery-gray underbelly. “Do you think she would ever come with us?”
       “I never said anything about her coming with us,” Ravenstar hissed.
       “Oh, uhh, well I uh.. I just assumed...” Silverpaw stuttered.
       Ravenstar smiled. “Not yet anyway.”
       Silverpaw relaxed. He hated making his mentor angry, especially since she was also the leader of their clan--ThunderClan. He turned his attention back to the gray tabby sleeping on the Twoleg nest porch.
       “Follow me,” Ravenstar beckoned.
       Silverpaw followed her as she began walking closer to the fence that separated Duchess’s world from the world of freedom.
            When they reached the fence, Ravenstar began digging. She scratched the ground near the edge of the fence. “Help me. We need to make this big enough for her to squeeze through, but small enough that she’ll have to work at it a bit," she instructed.
       Silverpaw joined his mentor and began digging. The cool dirt felt good between his toes, and he longed to just go right on digging. But a nudge from Ravenstar stopped him.
       “That’s enough.” She nodded.
       Slowly, the two cats crept back into the forest to wait...

* * *

       “Bet ya can’t catch me!” Ginger taunted, and she raced off. Toby and Steel followed her, trying their best to catch their spunky sister. Toby was a plump calico kitten, while Steel was a sleek light gray one. Ginger was--of course--ginger in color. She was a large tabby kitten, and had laughing amber eyes.
       “Oh, I bet I can!” Duchess mewled. The smallest of the litter, Duchess was often far behind in skill for games like wrestling, but in this game--tag--she was excellent! Her small size allowed her to take shortcuts where her larger siblings could not go, and her quick thinking made up for her lack of strength.
       Ginger raced around the couch, her brothers following her. But Duchess crawled under the couch. She peeked out, waiting for her sister to race by. Just before she did, Duchess sprang out from under the couch right in front of Ginger’s nose.
       Ginger stopped--startled. That moment’s hesitation was all Duchess needed. “Surprise!” she squealed before promptly pouncing on her sister’s head. She nipped Ginger’s ear, and Ginger threw her off gently. Then she pounced on Duchess and the two kittens were wrestling with each other, tumbling and rolling all around the living room floor.
       Finally, they stopped. Both panting and happy.
       The they heard the sweet voice of their mother, Tilly. "Time for you kittens to be in bed now," she purred. "You need your rest."
       All four kittens slowly made their way towards the fluffy pillow that served as a bed for the five cats. They snuggled up to each other, and the boys were quickly asleep.
       “Wow, Duchess!” Ginger praised. “That was great! You really had me fooled when you came out from under the couch like that!” She gave Duchess a friendly lick on the ear.
       Duchess smiled, and shrugged. “It was nothing, really." She closed her eyes, and was soon fast asleep...

* * *

       Duchess woke up, suddenly. “Ginger!” she exclaimed. She looked around and then realized she had only been dreaming. Sighing, she stood up and stretched. It was warmer than it had been earlier. She squinted up at the sky. The sun was now high overhead. Wow, I’ve been asleep for hours! she thought.
       She padded over to the kitty-door, and walked into her owners’ house. She trotted up to her water bowl, and wrinkled her nose. Yuck! The water smelled stale. She shrugged and went back outside. It had rained during the night, and she knew there would be a puddle she could drink from at the back of the yard near the corner of the fence.
       She scampered through the grass, which was no longer wet, and stopped in front of the puddle. Slowly, she drank her fill.
       Duchess lifted her dripping muzzle into the air, and sniffed. Whenever she was at the back of the yard, the most tantalizing smells greeted her. Today, the sweet scent of catmint called to her, and the earthy smell of moss beckoned her along with dozens of other smells that she couldn’t put names too. She yearned to find some way out of the yard and into the woods.
       She eyed the metal fence with hatred. She could see through the fence, but the holes in the mesh were just small enough that she couldn’t get out. It was as if it was taunting her, just the way her sister used to. Only there was no way to outsmart a fence. She’d tried to climb over before, but her small legs and tiny paws weren’t strong enough yet to propel her up and over.
       Back home her mother, Tilly, had always warned Duchess and her siblings of the dangers of wandering out of their yard, but Tilly wasn’t here to stop her this time! She walked along the back edge of the fence, searching for any sort of escape route. She had done this many times in the past weeks, but not ever so carefully before.
       Then something caught her eye. At the bottom of the fence, she spotted something that hadn’t been there before--a small hole. Well, not a hole, really, but the grass and some dirt had been scratched away under a tiny part of the fence. Carefully, she sniffed it. It smelled like something she had never smelled before. The smell reminded her of her mother and siblings, but it was much more wild-smelling. She nervously flicked her tail and peered into the woods behind the fence. She could see nothing, but just to be sure, she sniffed the air. Nothing.
       She looked over her shoulder, just to make sure no one was watching. Satisfied, she turned back towards the hole and flattened herself to the ground. Carefully, she crawled under the fence.

            She poked her head out onto the other side of the fence, and breathed deeply. The smells of the forest greeted her and made her almost giddy, as she finally realized how close to freedom she was.

            She crawled forward when she suddenly felt a sharp pull on her neck. Her collar was caught on the fence! She grunted, and tried again to pull herself forward, harder this time. The collar stopped her again.

            Desperately, she tried backing up, and then pulling forward again. But her collar jerked her back. She gave a frustrated hiss, and stretched out her foreleg scratching the ground with her sharp, needle-like claws.

            For a few minutes, she continued trying to struggle her way out from under the fence, but it was no use. Her collar held fast.

            Sighing, she laid her head on her paws and prepared to wait. She didn’t know what for, but she knew that she couldn’t get out of this predicament on her own.

            The hours passed slowly. The sun sank along with Duchess’s hopes of ever reaching freedom. An ant crawled in front of Duchess, its shiny black body illuminated by the setting sun. She batted at it with her paw until it finally crawled out of her reach carrying its leafy burden back to some hidden anthill.

            Finally, she heard the familiar creak of the hinges on the back porch door. She couldn’t turn her head far enough to see behind her, but she imagined the flood of light that would come pouring out of the door, soaking the dark backyard with its artificial rays. She heard her owner calling, his voice harsh and expectant. She knew he would not be happy with her for staying out so late. She usually came inside before it got dark.

            She mewed, hoping that he would hear her and come to her rescue. But he didn’t. Duchess heard the door shut behind him as he trudged back into the house.

            Determined not to wait out the night in this awkward position, she again began to struggle. She squirmed and pulled, but the stubborn collar would not release her.

            Suddenly, she heard a rustle in the bushes in front of her. She stopped, ears pricked and eyes wide. The tips of her paws tingled as she imagined what could have possibly made the noise. She remembered how her mother had said that there were many dangerous creatures living out in the wild. Could it be one of the creatures her mother had warned her about? She sniffed the air. All she could smell was the same old smell of the woods. But then a gentle breeze hit her face, bringing with it a smell that she recognized.

            It was the same smell she had scented at the hole that afternoon! The scent had faded from the hole, but it now was brought to her stronger than it had been.

            The fur on the back of her neck stood up. From the bushes, she spotted a pair of bright yellow eyes staring straight at her!

            She gulped, and managed to whisper, “Who’s there?”

            No answer came.

            But then the eyes started moving towards her. They came closer and closer until they finally emerged from the bushes. Out stepped a young tom. His silver chest shone against his black fur, and there was a brown patch of fur on his broad forehead.

            They stared at each other for a moment. Duchess was too scared to speak, but the tom meowed, “Need some help?” His voice was gruff, but not unfriendly.

            Duchess simply nodded.

            The black cat stepped forward, and bent down toward Duchess’s neck. Gently, he grabbed her collar with his sharp teeth.

            “Now back up,” he instructed through clenched teeth.

            Duchess obeyed. She backed up, and at first it seemed as if it was simply a waste of time. But she kept pulling, and gradually she felt the collar slipping over her ears until it finally was all the way off.

            Duchess sat up and looked at her rescuer. He still held the collar in his mouth and was using it to pull the fence upward so that Duchess could wriggle through.

            “You comin’?” he asked, a bit impatiently, Duchess thought.

            Duchess squirmed under the fence, and, at last, was on the other side.

            “Thanks!” she breathed. She was still a bit shocked at this sudden appearance.

            The young tom shrugged. “It was nothing,” he replied.

            The two cats sat in awkward silence. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a loud rumbling of Duchess’s stomach.

            Embarrassed, she looked down at her paws, and tried to act as though nothing had happened.

            Concern flashed in the tom’s bright yellow eyes, and he asked, “How long were you stuck like that?”

            Duchess looked up at him, her eyes glittering with defiance. She didn’t want to appear like a little kit to this young stranger. “Not long,” she answered coldly.

            The tom noticed the defiance in her eyes, and his whiskers twitched with amusement. “Well when was the last time you ate?” he questioned.

            Duchess shrugged, and looked down at her paws. “This morning,” she mumbled.

            The young tom nodded, and stood up. He padded off into the bushes. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder.

            Duchess stood up and followed him into the bushes. She caught up to him, and kept pace with him. They walked side-by-side through the dense undergrowth for a little while, neither one saying a word. Then Duchess spoke up, “By the way, I’m Duchess.”

            The black cat nodded, but didn’t give any reply. He kept up a steady pace, and Duchess found it a bit hard to keep up with him since her legs were quite a bit shorter. The tips of her ears only came up to his eye-level.

            “What’s your name,” she finally asked.

            He stopped and looked down at her. “Silverpaw,” he meowed. “I’m an apprentice in ThunderClan.”

            Duchess looked up at him, confused, “A what-ice?” she said.

            “An apprentice,” Silverpaw clarified. “It means I’m training to be a warrior.”

            “A warrior? What for?” Duchess asked. This whole thing wasn’t making any sense.

            Silverpaw rolled his eyes and tried to patiently explain. “I can see I’ll have to start at the very beginning,” he said. “Further into this forest, there’s a lake. Around this lake there are four groups of cats: ShadowClan, RiverClan, WindClan, and Thunder Clan. That’s the one I’m in.” He stopped to make sure Duchess had understood everything he said.

            Duchess was sitting and looking up at him, her clear blue eyes filled with curiosity. The patchy moonlight that came through the tree-tops glimmered on her silvery fur. “Go on,” she prompted.

            “So each Clan has their own territory and boundaries. We warriors have to protect our territory from invaders from the other Clans,” he continued.

            “But I thought you weren’t a warrior yet. You said you were training to be a warrior,” Duchess pointed out.

            Silverpaw shuffled his paws and huffed, “Well, yes I did say that. But I still help protect my clan,” he defended.

            Duchess’s whiskers twitched with amusement, but she simply said, “Okay, then what.”

            “Well,” he said, “we also hunt for food to feed our Clan. And we all work together to protect the Camp. The Camp is where we live. There are separate dens for the warriors, the apprentices, the kits and their mothers, the medicine cat, and our Clan leader, Ravenstar.”

            “A medicine cat?” Duchess interrupted. “What does a medicine cat do?”

            Silverpaw tried to remember Twoleg terms Ravenstar had used when describing the life of a kittypet so that Duchess could better understand what he was trying to explain. He looked at her and asked, “Well, you know the vet?”

            Duchess nodded. “Yes, I was there once for a check-up. My Mother said my owners would eventually take me there again when I was older, but I haven’t been back since.”

            Silverpaw continued, “Well, it’s like that. The medicine cat takes care of sick cats, and tends to wounded ones. She uses herbs to treat us.” Silverpaw’s wrinkled his nose as he said, “Sometimes they taste nasty. But at least they work.”

            Duchess’s stomach growled again. But she looked at Silverpaw, trying to act like nothing had happened.

            Silverpaw shook his head, “What are we doing standing here talking? I should get you to my mentor, Ravenstar. You’re probably hungry enough to eat a whole rabbit by now!”

            Duchess laughed. She followed Silverpaw as he again began his steady trot through the woods.

             

Chapter Two

*

          Duchess and Silverpaw made their way through the forest in silence. Silverpaw led her through the dense bracken, and over fallen logs. The leaves on the forest floor crackled softly as they walked.

            After a while, the trees began to thin, and the woods opened up into a mossy, moonlit clearing.

            On the far end of the clearing, a creek gurgled its way onward sending its merry sound to Duchess’s ears. A light breeze ruffled her pelt. It felt strange on her neck. She had been used to having a collar on for so long that she didn't remember how it felt. It was glorious! She wondered how she had put up with it for so long now that she remembered what it felt like not to have one on. She breathed in deeply the earthy smell of the moss. Suddenly, she tensed, pelt bristling. She tasted the air again. A cat! Duchess’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning the clearing.

            Finally she spotted it:  it was sitting on the far end of the clearing with its back towards the two young arrivals.

            Duchess glanced nervously at Silverpaw. He was striding confidently across the clearing towards the other cat. She relaxed. That cat must be Ravenstar, she thought. 

            “Hello, Ravenstar,” Silverpaw greeted the cat. Out of respect, he dropped to the ground in a low crouch. Duchess copied him.

            Ravenstar jerked around, eyes wide and hackles up. She relaxed as she realized who it was.

            “Hello, Silverpaw.” Her gaze shifted to Duchess. “Hello, young one.” The she-cat’s reddish-brown fur shone in the moonlight, and she carried her head proudly. Duchess could tell she was a cat to be respected.

            Shyly, Duchess dipper her head and murmured, “Hello.”

            A look of amusement flashed across Ravenstar’s face. "Stand up, both of you." 

           They both stood up.

           She turned to Duchess. "I see you found the hole that my apprentice and I dug for you this afternoon."

          Duchess's eyes widened. "You dug that?" she asked, amazed. 

          Ravenstar nodded. "Yes, we were hoping you would decide to venture out into the forest."

          Fear clutched Duchess, its icy claws pricking her pelt. Ravenstar let out a mrrow of laughter. "Don't worry, young one. We mean you no harm."

          Confusion filled Duchess's mind, but before she could ask anything more, her stomach let out a loud rumble. Awkwardly,   she looked down at her paws, trying to act as though nothing had happened.

            Ravenstar’s eyes softened. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

            Duchess nodded, embarrassed to be appearing like a helpless kit in front of this wise and noble warrior.

            Ravenstar turned to Silverpaw. He was crouched on the mossy ground. “Silverpaw,” she beckoned.

            He quickly sat up. “Yes, Ravenstar?”

            “Go and fetch some prey for—er, what was your name?” she looked at Duchess.

            “Duchess,” came the quick reply.

            Ravenstar nodded, and then continued: “Go and fetch some prey for Duchess."

           Dipping his head, he turned to leave.

            "And be quick about it,” Ravenstar added.

            “Alright. I’ll be back in no time!” he promised. Then off he bounded.

            Duchess watched him leave. She fought back a prick of fear that tugged at her pelt. Timidly, she glanced back at Ravenstar. She was watching her intently. Duchess tried to hold her head higher, not wanting this Clan leader to see that she was nervous. She met her gaze steadily.

            Then Ravenstar spoke. “We have been watching you for some time now, Duchess.”

            Duchess’s eyes widened. “You have?” she asked. “But why?” confusion filled her bright blue eyes. But Ravenstar’s next words surprised her even more.

            “How would you like to join ThunderClan?” Ravenstar asked. She spoke steadily, and Duchess could tell she was serious.

            Stunned, she didn’t know what to say. She tried to speak, but no words would come out.            

            “Life in a Clan is much different than life as a kittypet,” Ravenstar went on. “But it’s also much more fulfilling. You won’t be able to crawl into a Twoleg nest every time the weather becomes uncomfortable, or eat your food from a shiny dish every time you feel hungry. It’s hard work to live in a Clan. There are many duties that need to be done--food to catch, borders to defend. But, if you remain loyal, the rewards will be great. You will have the fellowship and strength that being in a Clan provides. You will live as a true cat—the way cats were meant to live.”

            Still shocked, Duchess managed to whisper, “But what makes you want me in your Clan?”

            Ravenstar took a deep breath before answering. Her expression clouded with pain, she softly replied, “From the first moment I saw you, you reminded me of someone that I love very much. She was an excellent warrior—quick, brave, and loyal—everything she needed to be. And more, sometimes. And then that someone was taken away from me.” She paused before continuing, “And now, I can’t help feeling that StarClan has sent you to us to make up for taking Lilystripe.” She gazed thoughtfully at Duchess.

            Duchess looked down at her paws. She thought about her sister, Ginger. Leaving Ginger had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. She loved Ginger, and her heart still ached when she thought about her. She could understand Ravenstar's pain at losing a loved one.

            Some things that Ravenstar had said confused her, though. Like StarClan—who in the world were they? And why would they take a cat from ThunderClan? But she knew that now wasn’t the time to ask such questions.

            They sat in silence for a few moments, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Then Ravenstar shook herself, as if trying to scatter the gloom that had settled over her. “Where is your collar, Duchess?” she asked, changing the subject.

            The question caught Duchess off guard. “It, uh, well,” she stammered, “It got caught on the fence when I crawled under it.”      

            “A sign from StarClan,” Ravenstar breathed.

            A look of confusion flashed across Duchess’s face. Who was this mysterious StarClan?

            Hurriedly, Ravenstar continued, “But back to the point. Would you like to join ThunderClan?” Her gaze was steady, and piercing. Duchess knew she would have to answer this time.

            “Can I have some time to think about it?” she meowed hesitantly.

            Ravenstar nodded. “Very well.”       

            Just then, Silverpaw came trotting out of the undergrowth, a plump vole dangling from his jaws. He came over to them, and set the vole down in front of Duchess. “Here you go,” he meowed, pushing it towards her with his nose.

            “Thank you,” Duchess murmured. She bent her head down to sniff the vole. It smelled delicious, and her stomach gave another loud rumble.

            Silverpaw’s whiskers twitched amusedly as he watched her take her first bite of fresh kill.

            Gingerly, she took a small bite. It was wonderful! Much better than the dry food her housefolk fed her! Eagerly, she continued eating until it was gone. She licked her lips, then sat up and began grooming herself.

            Ravenstar and Silverpaw had moved a short distance away and were obviously discussing something. They spoke in low murmurs, and Duchess couldn’t make out anything they were saying.  

            Ravenstar stood up and came over to Duchess. “Well, it’s time for you to leave now, Duchess. Silverpaw will take you home.”

            “But—” Duchess started, but was cut off.

            “He will be back at dawn tomorrow for your answer,” Ravenstar told her.

            Duchess dipped her head. “Thank you, Ravenstar.”

            Ravenstar turned to leave. “Think very carefully about what I have said, Duchess,” she called over her shoulder. Then she padded away and disappeared into the shadowy forest.     

            Duchess looked at Silverpaw. He beckoned to her with a flick of his tail, and the two cats once again made their way through the thick undergrowth. They traveled in silence until they came to the fence.

            Once they were there, Duchess timidly asked, “Who is StarClan?” She didn’t want Silverpaw to think she was dumb, but she was dying to know. She had been thinking about it the whole way back.

            Silverpaw looked a bit surprised by her question, but replied, “StarClan is made up of the warrior ancestors from all four Clans that have died.” He paused, and looked up at the starry sky. “They watch over us from the stars,” he explained.

            Duchess looked up at the glittering night sky. “So what did Ravenstar mean when she said that StarClan took Lilystripe?” she asked.

            Silverpaw’s eyes widened. How much had Ravenstar told her? Sadness darkened his gaze, and he hesitated before answering. “Lilystripe was my mentor before Ravenstar. One day,” he shifted his paws uncomfortably, “we were out hunting. Just me and her. Then a fox…” his voice trailed off. He took a deep breath. “Lilystripe was killed by a fox. She was Ravenstar’s daughter.”

            “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Duchess whispered.

            “It’s all right. She hunts with StarClan now.”

            The two young cats gazed up in silence at the sky. Finally Silverpaw broke the silence.

            “Well, I’ve got to get back to Camp. Ravenstar will wonder what’s taken me so long. I’ll see you at dawn tomorrow.”

            “’Bye,” Duchess murmured.

            And with a flick of his tail, Silverpaw melted back into the forest.  

            Duchess squirmed under the fence. It was a lot easier without her dumb collar getting in the way. She crossed the yard, and hopped onto the back porch. Before going inside, she turned to look back up at the stars. Can StarClan see me right now? she wondered. Sighing, she crawled into the kitty-door.

            The stale smell of her dry food greeted her. Duchess sniffed it, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She knew she would never be satisfied eating that again. She padded across the smooth tile floor over to her pillow. Her mind was whirling with thoughts of everything that had happened that day. The words of Ravenstar came back to her mind, “You will have the fellowship and strength that being in a Clan provides. You will live as a true cat—the way cats were meant to live…” The thought of being in a Clan sent excited shivers down Duchess’s spine. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep…
 

Chapter Three

*

A tiny black and gray kit snuggled up to his mother. Her soft fur was warm, and her sweet milk scent was soothing. He kneaded her belly with his tiny gray paws.

A harsh leaf-bare wind howled outside, but the thickly padded bramble walls of the nursery kept most of the cold from coming into the den.

The tiny kit began to squirm as his brother jabbed him with his golden paws. His tiny mews woke his calico mother from her restless sleep. Then he felt his mother’s warm breath on his head. She began licking him with slow, loving strokes.

“My precious Silverkit,” she murmured softly.

Gradually, Silverkit’s whimpering died down, and he once again snuggled up to his mother.

“Goodbye, my darlings,” the queen murmured. Her voice was strained, as if it was causing her great effort to speak. “I shall watch over you from StarClan…” Then her breathing slowed and gradually stopped…

* * *

Silverpaw woke with a jolt. It wasn’t often that he dreamed about his mother. She had died when he was a tiny kit, and he didn’t even really remember her. The only memories he had of her came to him in dreams.

He shook his head to clear away the wisps of the dream. He looked around the apprentice den. It was still dark, but he could see that his den mates were still asleep. He carefully made his way around their sleeping forms and out into the moonlit stone clearing.

Outside, Silverpelt still gleamed brightly, but the sky just above the ridge of trees at the top of the hollow was beginning to give way to the coming sun.

The air was still, and he breathed it in deeply.  The sharp tang of the yew sap helped to further wake him up. The apprentice den was nestled in a cave that was protected by a bushy yew tree that grew close to the wall of the Camp, and the scent was something he enjoyed waking up to.

He stretched, working out the kinks in his muscles. Then he padded over to the fresh-kill pile. He hadn’t eaten before going to meet Duchess yesterday, and his stomach felt hollow. He picked up a large mouse between his teeth and settled down to enjoy his morning meal. The fresh-kill pile would need restocking soon, he noticed.

“You’re up,” Ravenstar’s low meow came from behind him.

Startled, he whirled around. “Uh yes, I was just going to eat a little something before I started off,” he nervously explained. Normally, apprentices were not allowed to eat before the elders and queens.

Ravenstar glanced at the half-eaten mouse. “I see,” she purred. “Probably a wise idea. I’ll go wake Mistyfur and Darkpelt. We’ll be waiting for you in the clearing. If Duchess decides to join us, I want them to meet her first.”

Silverpaw nodded, and then continued eating as Ravenstar strode away. Apparently Ravenstar wasn’t worried about one piece of fresh-kill. Not when green-leaf was upon them, anyways. Silverpaw made a mental note to try and catch extra on the next hunting patrol he joined. After finishing and giving himself a quick but thorough wash, he was off.

He trotted over to the thorn barrier that served as the entrance to the ThunderClan camp. Two young warriors, Flashfang and Eagleflight, were already there. They had been assigned to dawn patrol and were waiting for the rest of the patrol to join them before they headed out.

As Flashfang noticed Silverpaw approaching, he called out, “Why are you up so early? Are you coming on the Dawn patrol too?”

Silverpaw shook his head. “No, I’m on a special assignment.” There was pride in his meow, and he held his head a bit higher as he passed them.

They said nothing as he went by, but after he went through the entrance, he heard Eagleflight mutter, “How come he gets special assignments and we’re stuck on Dawn patrol?”

Silverpaw didn’t hear Flashfang’s mumbled reply, but he didn’t care. Let them be jealous! he thought. And with that, he was on his way to the Twoleg place.

* * *

When Silverpaw arrived at Duchess’s fence, she wasn’t there. At first he was worried. Maybe she had decided not to come after all. But a quick glance at the sky told him that dawn was just beginning and there was no need to worry. There was still time.

He settled down to wait. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and he was a bit tired.

He didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, Duchess came bounding out onto the porch. She scanned the fence, looking for him. Her tail was fluffed up, and her eyes glittered. When she spotted him, her face lit up and she scampered over to the fence. Once she had squeezed her way under, she stood in front of Silverpaw.

“Morning,” she meowed happily.

“Good morning,” he replied. “Have you thought about Ravenstar’s offer?” He already guessed what the answer would be, but he still needed to ask.

Duchess nodded.

“And…?” he prompted.

“I would be delighted to join your Clan,” she burst out.

Satisfaction showed on Silverpaw’s face as he grunted his approval. He noticed that in the light her eyes were an even more striking blue than they had been last night.

He turned around to face the forest again. Duchess was quickly at his side, and the two cats once again made their way to the mossy clearing.

Duchess stared in wonder at the scene surrounding her. She had only seen it in the dark, so it must have seemed even more amazing to her in the light. It was still a bit dim, but the rising sun would soon fix that.

It was the middle of Greenleaf, and the underbrush was very thick. The two cats made their way through the bracken and ferns that carpeted the forest floor, occasionally leaping over – or scrambling over, in Duchess’ case – fallen logs that blocked their path.

Silverpaw’s whiskers twitched with amusement as he remembered his first day out as an apprentice. He was much like Duchess – wide-eyed, taking in everything around him. It had been a little over two moons ago, but it felt like only yesterday. He had been so excited. He and Lilystripe had spent the day exploring every nook and cranny of ThunderClan territory.

He glanced at Duchess. She was keeping up with him very well, considering how small she was. He felt he should explain some things to her before they got to the clearing, which would be very soon now.

“When we get to the clearing, Ravenstar and two others will be waiting for us. Ravenstar wanted them to meet you before she introduced you to the rest of the Clan,” he explained.

“Alright,” Duchess replied. Her attention was still on the forest around her.

“Darkpelt, the ThunderClan deputy will be there. Being the deputy makes him second in charge. He’s an important cat to impress,” Silverpaw went on. “He’s also my father.”

Duchess only nodded.

“Mistyfur is the other cat that will be there. I don’t know why Ravenstar wanted her there exactly, but she must have her reasons.”

“Okay,” Duchess replied.

They were getting closer to the clearing now, and they traveled the rest of the way in silence. 

At the clearing, the three cats stood to greet them. Ravenstar and a large black tom, Darkpelt, came over to the two younger cats. Mistyfur, a light gray she-cat, hung back, content to watch for the moment.

“You came,” Ravenstar purred.

Shyly, Duchess nodded. “I’ve decided that I would very much like to be in your Clan.”

Approval flickered in Ravenstar’s eyes. “This is Darkpelt, my deputy,” she meowed, gesturing with her tail toward the black tom next to her. “And that,” she added, nodding towards the gray she-cat, “is Mistyfur.”

“Hello,” Duchess greeted them.

They each nodded in reply.

“We’ve heard a lot about you, Duchess,” Mistyfur told her. Her voice was soft and gentle.

“Yes we have,” Darkpelt agreed. “I must admit, I wasn’t sure you would come today. I thought for sure a little kittypet like you would be too afraid.” Amusement flickered in his wise green eyes, but Duchess bristled.

“I’m not scared,” she spat. She met Darkpelt’s steady gaze without flinching. Finally, he turned to Ravenstar.

“I think you were right about her,” he meowed.

Ravenstar only gazed at Duchess. “Yes,” she murmured. Then she shook her head. “Well, enough talk. Let’s get you to Camp, Duchess.” She turned to leave, and everyone followed her. Darkpelt walked beside her, and the two were murmuring something that Duchess, who was behind Mistyfur, couldn’t hear. Silverpaw brought up the rear.

When the group reached the thorn entrance, Ravenstar paused. She turned to face Duchess. “Welcome to your new home,” she meowed.

Once inside the Camp, Silverpaw looked at Duchess. She was scanning the Camp excitedly, her eyes flitting back and forth as the new sights and smells greeted her.

A young white apprentice came over to Silverpaw.

“Hello, Snowpaw,” he greeted her.

“Hi, Silverpaw. Who’s that?” she asked, gesturing towards Duchess. Then she wrinkled her nose. “She doesn’t smell like any Clan cat I’ve ever met. Where’s she from?”

Silverpaw was about to answer, but a loud yowl from Ravenstar silenced him. She had leapt onto the ledge that served as the gathering place for all Clan meetings.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting.”

Chapter Four

*

From all over the clearing, cats began to appear. Duchess had never seen so many cats in one place before. New and exciting scents surrounded her as cats slipped out of dens and came to gather beneath the ledge that Ravenstar stood on. There were strong, hard-muscled toms; dainty tortoiseshell she-cats; wiry, brown cats; and young, eager apprentices.  Three small kits popped their tiny heads out of a bramble den. Their mother, a light brown tabby, stayed with them, but her attention was on Ravenstar. Several of the cats shot Duchess curious glances as they padded over to their leader. She met their gazes, equally curious.

Once all the cats had gathered, Ravenstar continued: “It has been decided to bring an outsider into the Clan.” She paused as a nervous murmur rippled across the gathered cats. “As you know,” she went on. “Since twolegs invaded part of our territory, we have lost many cats.” Grief clouded her face for a moment, but she quickly shook it off and continued: “In the past four seasons, we have lost more cats than I care to mention.”

Several cats nodded in agreement, their somber faces filled with pain.

“Just a moon ago, we lost yet another of our Clan. But now, we have a chance to regain some of what we have lost.” Her voice rose now as she came to her main point. “Duchess, come forward,” she commanded, motioning to Duchess with her head.

Duchess eagerly came to stand beneath the Highledge. She turned to face the gathered crowd. They stared at her in open amazement.

“We have decided to train Duchess as a ThunderClan apprentice,” Ravenstar announced.

Anxious whispers swept over the Clan. “What is Ravenstar thinking?” “She’s a kittypet! Look at her glossy coat!” “I bet she doesn’t last one moon.”

Duchess bristled. How dare these cats – who didn’t even know her – criticize her! Her blue eyes gleamed, and she tried to hold her head higher. I’ll show these cats I’m not some soft kit!

Darkpelt let out a loud yowl. “Let Ravenstar continue!”

The cats fell silent.

“Thank you, Darkpelt,” Ravenstar acknowledged him. Then she took a deep breath. “Duchess, are you prepared to offer your life to this Clan? To defend it, support it, and remain loyal to it, even at the cost of your own life?”

Duchess’s eyes widened a little, but she nodded firmly. “I do,” she meowed, her voice clear and strong.

“Then from this moment on, you shall be known as Bluepaw. I trust that you will honor this Clan and use your skills for its good.” Then she motioned to Mistyfur. “Mistyfur, are you willing to take Bluepaw on as your apprentice, and to teach her the ways of our Clan?”

Mistyfur nodded. “Yes, Ravenstar.”

She bent her head to touch muzzles with her new apprentice.

“Bluepaw!” Silverpaw called.

Several cats joined him, “Bluepaw, Bluepaw!” they meowed.

Bluepaw felt a thrill shoot down her spine as they shouted her new name. Bluepaw!  She looked around at the cats surrounding her. This would be her new family! She was in a Clan!

Ravenstar climbed down from the Highledge. The meeting now over, the gathered cats stood up. Some of them came over to Bluepaw.

“Congratulations, Bluepaw!” a few greeted.

“Welcome to our Clan.”

Some of the cats hung back, their gazes skeptical.

As the new voices washed over her, Bluepaw felt she had never been happier before. She barely heard the words they were saying to her. She looked dazedly around, taking in the faces that surrounded her.

Then Mistyfur nudged her. She shook herself from her daze and glanced up at Mistyfur. The gray she-cat’s eyes were filled with kindness, and Bluepaw was suddenly very grateful that Ravenstar had chosen this gentle cat to be her mentor.

“Come on,” she beckoned. “I’ll show you around Camp.”

“Okay,” Bluepaw meowed. Excitement tingled in her paws as she jumped up to follow her new mentor.

Mistyfur padded over to a pile of prey. “This is the fresh-kill pile,” she explained. “Hunting patrols go out and hunt for the Clan. What they bring back gets put here for the whole Clan to eat.”

Bluepaw nodded. That made sense. Instead of every cat fending for themselves, the Clan worked together to feed one another.

“Why don’t we take some to the Elders? I’m sure they would appreciate it,” Mistyfur suggested. She nosed a plump wood pigeon. “Here, take this and I’ll show you to the Elder’s den.”

Bluepaw picked the bird up, careful not to pierce its flesh with her teeth.

She followed Mistyfur to a den where two cats were lounging in the morning sunshine in front of a fallen beech tree. Their eyes lit up at the sight of Bluepaw.

“Well if it isn’t our new arrival,” one of them called. One of his ears was ragged, and a large scar marred the smooth brown fur on his side. His green eyes glittered with amusement. “I see Mistyfur is wasting no time in getting you started with your duties.”

The other cat, a white she-cat with bright yellow eyes, laughed. “Oh, Pinetail,” she scolded good-naturedly, “don’t tease her. She’s just being a good mentor, that’s all. You just wait and see – I’ll bet this one,” she motioned to Bluepaw with her tail, “turns out to be the hardest-working of all the apprentices.” She let out a mrrow of amusement.

Bluepaw set the wood pigeon in front of the two cats. It suddenly looked very small compared to these two majestic cats. “Maybe I should go and get more,” she meowed.

“Oh, no,” Pinetail purred. “Icepool and I don’t usually eat too much this early. This will be fine.”

Bluepaw was uncertain for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Icepool nodded. “Positive,” she reassured her.

“Okay.”

“Well, we should continue, Bluepaw. There’s much more to see,” Mistyfur pointed out.

Just then, the three kits she had seen earlier came bounding over. They raced to the two Elders, their tails high and ears erect.

“Icepool! Pinetail!” one of them called. Her tiny voice was filled with excitement.

“Tell us a story!” another begged, skidding to a halt right in front of Pinetail.

Mistyfur purred affectionately as she watched them. “Kits,” she laughed. “Always looking for a story.”

One of the kits, a small dusky brown she-cat, turned to face Bluepaw and Mistyfur. Her eyes widened. She turned to her brother, who was looking awestruck into the face of Pinetail as he murmured a story to them, and prodded him with her paw.

“Ow,” he squeaked. “What, Pebblekit?”

“Look, Goldkit! It’s the new apprentice, Bluepaw,” she whispered.

Goldkit whirled around to see where his sister was looking. When he saw Bluepaw, he gasped. “Wow,” he breathed. Pinetail’s story forgotten, he padded over to Bluepaw. “I’ve never seen a kittypet before.”

Bluepaw shifted uncomfortably, but she was saved by Mistyfur.

“Bluepaw isn’t a kittypet anymore,” she meowed firmly. “And we should really get back to training.” She nudged Goldkit gently away, and he bounded back to his sisters, casting amazed glances over his shoulder as he went.

Mistyfur shook her head. “Kits,” she once again murmured. Her voice was light, and Bluepaw could tell she wasn’t angry at all.

* * *

After showing Bluepaw around the ThunderClan camp, Mistyfur was just about to head out with Bluepaw to show her the territory. She had promised to show Bluepaw all of the borders.

A rustling at the Camp entrance caught Bluepaw’s attention, and she turned to see a troop of cats entering the Camp.

 “Oh great,” Mistyfur muttered. “Flashfang’s back.” Her voice was tinged with annoyance.

Bluepaw looked questioningly up at her mentor. “Why is that a bad thing?”

“Oh because, Flashfang is only the most annoying cat in the world,” Mistyfur spat. “He thinks he’s the most talented warrior that ever existed, and he’s only been out of apprentice training for three moons.”

 One of the newly-arrived cats spotted Mistyfur. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he strode over, his black fur glistening in the sunlight. His white chest and paws were immaculately clean, and his yellow eyes glittered arrogantly. “Hello, Mistyfur,” he called. Then he noticed Bluepaw. He stared at her in surprise. “Who is that?” he asked Mistyfur, motioning to Bluepaw with his paw. 

“Hello, Flashfang,” Mistyfur meowed dryly. “This is Bluepaw, she’s a new apprentice that Ravenstar has taken into the Clan. I’m her mentor.”

Flashfang’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “She smells like a kittypet,” he snarled.

Bluepaw bristled. “I was a kittypet before this morning. But now I’m not, and I’d appreciate it if you keep your complaints to yourself,” she hissed.

Flashfang’s eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected her to be so bold. “Well,” he sniffed, ignoring Bluepaw, “I just hope Ravenstar knows what she’s doing taking a kittypet,” he spat the word out scornfully, “into ThunderClan.” He whirled around and trotted away.

“That mousebrain,” Mistyfur hissed after he was out of earshot. "I'm glad you stood up to him, but if it were any warrior other than Flashfang, I'd probably scold you for speaking too boldly to one of your seniors." Her whiskers twitched amusedly.

Bluepaw's eyes twinkled mischievously.

 “Come on, let’s go," Mistyfur beckoned.

She led Bluepaw out of the Camp, and up a steep slope. They weaved around the trees and through the heather and bracken as they climbed to the top where the ground rose in a sharp ridge. They followed the ridge, and the trees overhead began to thin until they gave way to open ground. A light, damp breeze brushed Bluepaw’s face as they left the cover of the forest. It carried with it smells that Bluepaw couldn’t recognize, and she could hear the lapping of water.

The scene that greeted them was magnificent! A large, blue lake glittered down below, and the land swept out in front of them.

“This is my favorite place in our whole territory,” Mistyfur meowed.

“I can see why,” Bluepaw breathed. “It’s amazing!”

“From here, you can see the territories of the three other clans. Over there,” she motioned in the direction that the sun set, “is ShadowClan’s territory.”

Bluepaw looked down on the ShadowClan territory. Spiky pine trees jutted out, concealing the ground. But she could picture it – shadowy and cool. The tops of the pines swayed in the breeze.

“ShadowClan cats are cunning - they have to be to hunt in the pine forest. There’s hardly any undergrowth there, so they have to stalk their prey very carefully,” Mistyfur went on. “And over there,” she nodded towards the land that lay across the lake, “is where RiverClan live.”

Bluepaw stared across the lake. Although it was far away, she could make out a small river, meandering its way through a marshy spot of ground.

“RiverClan cats are the only ones that know how to catch fish. Or, at least, are any good at catching fish,” Mistyfur told her.

“And which Clan lives over there?” Bluepaw meowed, tilting her head towards an open prairie that lay across the lake from the pine forest. The tall grass rippled in the wind, and very few trees dotted the open land.

“WindClan,” Mistyfur replied. “WindClan cats are very quick and small. They are excellent at running after their prey. In such open territory, there’s really no way to sneak up on anything.”

Bluepaw nodded. She couldn’t imagine trying to hunt in a place like that.

“And do you see that small island over on the lake near RiverClan territory?” Mistyfur asked.

Bluepaw narrowed her eyes, trying to spot it. “Oh, yes,” she replied. “Right over there.” A small island covered in trees lay almost directly in front of them across the lake.

“That’s where Gatherings are held.”

Bluepaw tilted her head and confusion clouded her eyes. “What’s a Gathering?”

“Gatherings happen when the moon is full. The leaders from each Clan, along with some warriors and apprentices that the leaders have chosen, meet on the Island. During a Gathering, there’s a truce – no Clan is to attack another. That would displease StarClan.”

“Oh,” Bluepaw meowed. This whole thing was rather confusing, but she guessed it would make sense to her as she got used to it.

Suddenly, the snap of a far-off twig came from behind them. Mistyfur spun around and scented the air, her jaws wide apart. “A hunting patrol,” she meowed. “Bluepaw, tell me if you can recognize the scents of any of them.”

Bluepaw parted her jaws to draw the scents over her glands. She could detect what she now recognized to be ThunderClan scent, but she couldn’t pick out an individual cat scent yet. “Well,” she told her, “I can tell they are all ThunderClan cats,” she sniffed the air again, “but I can’t tell who they are. I think they’re close, though. The scent is getting stronger.”

Mistyfur nodded, pleased. “Very good.” She scented the air again. “It’s Quickstep, Rustclaw, and Sunpaw,” she announced. “And they’re coming towards us. I think Rustclaw has killed a mouse. I can smell a faint trace mixed with his scent.”

Bluepaw widened her eyes. “You can tell all that by their scent?” she breathed. “Wow.”

Mistyfur let out a faint mrrow of amusement. “Yes, of course,” she meowed. “And you will too, one day. It just takes practice.” She affectionately touched her tail to Bluepaw’s ear.

The rustling in the bracken drew closer, and out of the undergrowth stepped a rust-colored tom, followed by a ginger apprentice, and then finally a cream-colored tom.

“Hello,” the rust-colored cat meowed.

“Hi, Rustclaw,” Mistyfur greeted them. “I was just showing Bluepaw our territory.”

The ginger apprentice turned to the cream-colored cat. “Could they come with us, Quickstep?” he asked, his eyes lit up with excitement. “Bluepaw could see what it’s like being on a hunting patrol.”

Quickstep shot Bluepaw a hesitant glance. “I don’t know, Sunpaw… Her kittypet scent might scare off the prey,” he muttered. 

Bluepaw bristled. She was about to retort, but Mistyfur silenced her by laying her tail gently across her mouth. She satisfied herself by glaring resentfully at Quickstep. He shuffled his paws and looked down at the ground.

“Bluepaw and I are doing just fine on our own, Sunpaw,” Mistyfur meowed with a stern glance at Quickstep. “But thank you anyways.” Then she trotted off into the bracken.

After a quick apologetic glance at Sunpaw, Bluepaw was soon close on her tail. 

* * *

When they reached the border between ShadowClan and ThunderClan, they stopped to rest for a while. Bluepaw lay in a patch of sunlight that came slanting through the trees, letting it warm her tired body. She closed her eyes slightly, and was about to drift off to sleep when a prod from Mistyfur woke her. She bolted to her paws, eyes wide. “What is it?” she meowed.

“There’s a ShadowClan patrol coming,” Mistyfur answered, keeping her voice low. She nudged Bluepaw over to an old, hollow log concealed by ferns. “In there,” she whispered. “That way they won’t see us.”

Bluepaw crept into the log. The damp scent surrounded her. She peered through the ferns, trying to see the ShadowClan border. Mistyfur crawled in beside her.

“If you look closely, you might be able to see them,” Mistyfur murmured in her ear.

Bluepaw peered through the ferns, trying to see the ShadowClan border. The scent of cats came to her, and she breathed it in. So that was what ShadowClan smelled like? The scent was very strong, stronger than any ThunderClan cat scent. It almost made her want to gag. How could they sneak up on any prey with a scent like that? Then again, maybe the prey on their side of the border was used to such a strong scent.

Just then, a movement in the trees caught her eyes. There was a flash of black fur, and then a small cat stepped into view. She was pure black except for the tip of her tail, which was white. She faced the ThunderClan border, and sniffed the air. A dark brown tom came up beside her.

“See anything?” he meowed, his voice gruff.

“No,” the she-cat answered. Her voice was soft, and Bluepaw could tell she was a bit confused. “But I can smell ThunderClan cats very strongly.”

The brown cat huffed. “Well, this is their border, you know,” he spat sarcastically. Then he rolled his eyes and turned around to pad off into the pine trees.

The she-cat scanned the border once again, her eyes flitting back and forth. After a few moments, she turned around to follow the tom, her head low. Bluepaw heard a small sigh escape her, and suddenly felt very sorry for the she-cat.

“That was Mudface and Shadewish,” Mistyfur meowed, once she was sure they were out of earshot. “Mudface is one of the meanest cats in ShadowClan. You never want to get tangled with him.” She paused for a moment. “Although,” she added, “he’s not the brightest cat. If he was, he would have noticed our scent too, like Shadewish did.”

They crawled out of the log and stretched their cramped legs.

“Well, we should probably head back to Camp,” Mistyfur decided. “It will be sunhigh before we get back.”

As they made their way back to the Camp, they crossed the small creek that they had come over. Once on the other side, Mistyfur stopped, her ears perked. She motioned to Bluepaw to remain where she was, and the lowered into a crouch. Silently, she crept forward, her belly fur just brushing the ground, and her paws practically floating over the ground. Then she pounced. She scooped a small, brown body into the air and quickly killed it with a swift bite to the neck. Picking up the limp body, she turned to Bluepaw.

“Wow,” Bluepaw breathed. “That was amazing!”

Mistyfur’s eyes lit up, but she just shrugged. “It wasn’t much,” she meowed. “The mouse practically froze in front of me.”

She dropped the mouse in front of Bluepaw. “Go ahead,” she meowed. “Since we’re not on a hunting patrol, it’s ok. But if we were, we would have to bring it back to Camp. The Clan must be fed first.”

Bluepaw bent to examine the mouse. She had never eaten one before, and she hoped it would be as good as the vole that Silverpaw had brought her the night before. She took a bite. It was wonderful! She quickly devoured it, and then licked her lips. “Thanks,” she mewed. “Could you teach me how to do that?”

“Sure,” Mistyfur replied. She lowered herself to the ground. “Do what I do.”

Bluepaw tried to copy her. He belly swished against the ground.

Mistyfur laughed. “Get your tail down.”

Bluepaw lowered her tail, and it slapped the ground, making a swishing sound as it hit the leafy ground.

“Now, crawl forward smooth as a snake, and keep your weight on your haunches,” she directed.

Bluepaw crept across the forest floor, trying to remember to do everything Mistyfur had told her. She stepped forward as lightly as she could.

“Like this?” she asked.

“Well done, for your first try,” Mistyfur responded, obviously pleased. “But you’ve got to remember that a mouse will hear you before it smells you. You must step lightly. But with rabbits it’s the other way around. Rabbits will smell you before they hear you coming. It’s important to stay downwind of them when you hunt.”

“Okay.” Bluepaw meowed.

“If we come across another mouse, I’ll let you try to catch it on your own,” she promised.

Bluepaw felt a prick of excitement at the thought of catching her own prey.

As they continued on, she kept sniffing the air, trying to detect the scent of a mouse or some kind of prey.

Just before they reached the thorn entrance to the Camp, Bluepaw halted. “I smell a mouse!” she excitedly called to Mistyfur.

“Shh!” Mistyfur scolded. “You don’t want to scare it away!”

Bluepaw cringed. “Sorry,” she whispered. She lowered herself down into the hunter’s crouch, and took a deep breath. Then she pulled herself forward, trying to keep her weight on her haunches and moving as silently as she could.

The mouse was perched on an exposed tree root, nibbling a seed. Its back was to her, and it seemed completely oblivious to Bluepaw.

Carefully, Bluepaw inched closer and closer until… she sprang! Her timing was off, however, and the mouse scampered off the tree root. Bluepaw was quicker, though, and soon she had scooped the mouse into the air and bitten its neck the way she had seen Mistyfur do.

Pride surged through her as she turned to Mistyfur, the mouse dangling from her jaws.

“Well done, Bluepaw!” Mistyfur purred. “Now you’re a true ThunderClan cat!”

As the two cats pushed through the thorn barrier to the Camp, Bluepaw knew with every hair on her pelt that this was where she belonged.

Chapter Five

*

Honey-colored sunlight streamed down through the trees, warming Silverpaw’s back as he prowled through the undergrowth in search of prey. The air was beginning to take on its leaf-fall chill, but it would still be a few moons before leaf-bare took over the forest sending the prey down into underground burrows. He had been a kit last leaf-bare, but he still remembered how thin and tired all the cats around him had seemed, and how cold the air that came through the nursery entrance felt.

A rustling in the leaves ahead of him caught his attention. He sniffed the air. A squirrel! Cautiously, he crept forward, his pawsteps silent.

The squirrel was sitting at the base of a tree, cleaning its face with its tiny brown paws. Silverpaw’s mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten since before dawn, but he knew that the Clan must be fed first, however hungry he was.

He dropped into a crouch and stalked towards the squirrel. His belly fur barely brushed the leaves beneath him, and he kept his eyes focused on the prey in front of him.

Just a few more tail lengths and he would be near enough to pounce.

Suddenly, a strong breeze rustled the brambles behind the squirrel. Startled, it raced up the tree for safety. But Silverpaw was too quick for it. Within moments, the squirrel was dangling from his jaws.

Silverpaw laid his catch down under clump of ferns and brushed some dirt and leaves over it to hide its scent to other predators. It would be safe until he came back to bring it to the Camp. He silently gave thanks to StarClan for sending him the prey before heading back to join the rest of his hunting patrol.

 “Did you catch it?” Ravenstar asked him.

Silverpaw nodded. So far he had gotten two voles and a squirrel. He was keeping his promise to himself to catch extra prey on his next patrol. It felt good to do his part in helping to feed the Clan.

“I think Smokewhisp is almost ready to head back. We’ve caught plenty of prey for now, so there’s no use catching more than we need,” she told him.

“Okay,” Silverpaw meowed.

A rustling behind Silverpaw caught his attention, and he turned to see Rustclaw. Dangling from his jaws was a plump rabbit.

“Wow, what a great catch!” It was unusual for a hunting patrol to bring back a rabbit. Silverpaw knew that the Clan would be very grateful for this lucky catch.

“Thanks,” Rustclaw meowed, his voice muffled by the rabbit. “I think we can head back now.”

Silverpaw quickly found his hidden prey. It was difficult for him to carry all three of his pieces, but he managed it. As he walked through the forest, he wondered how Bluepaw was getting along.  

* * *

As Bluepaw carried her first catch into the Camp, she noticed two things.

The first was obvious, and was only a revelation because she had been in the shadowy forest and couldn’t see the sky: the sun was now high overhead, spilling its honey-colored light down onto the Camp, and pooling on the rocky floor. She had been enjoying herself so much that she hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.

The second was that there was a cat she had not yet seen crouched in front of the medicine den. His ginger-and-white pelt was ragged, and his head was held very low as if it cost him great effort to even be sitting up. Bluepaw could tell he was very old, although she wasn’t sure just how old.

Keeping her eye on the old cat, she padded over to the fresh-kill pile to deposit her contribution.

A scornful voice startled her.

“Surely you didn’t catch that yourself.”

Bluepaw spun around, the old cat now forgotten. Her expression darkened when she saw who it was.

Flashfang was sitting right by the pile eating what looked like had been a finch up until a few heartbeats ago. His yellow eyes scanned Bluepaw disapprovingly.

“Actually,” Bluepaw sniffed, “I did.”

And with that, she whirled around, her tail held high. Mistyfur watched, amusement sparkling in her blue eyes. But she said nothing.

Bluepaw looked over at the medicine den. The old cat was still sitting there, only now Ivyfrost was next to him. Her white pelt stood out against the dark bramble den. It looked like she was talking to him, although Bluepaw couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“Sunhigh is the time for sharing tongues,” Mistyfur interrupted Bluepaw’s thoughts.

“Sharing tongues? What’s that?” Bluepaw asked. How many new things would she have to get used to around here!

“It’s when we spend time grooming each other and sharing the news of the day,” she explained.

“Oh,” Bluepaw replied. Her gaze fell back to the medicine den.

Mistyfur studied Bluepaw’s face for a moment, following her gaze.

“What is it?” she asked.

Embarassed to be caught staring, Bluepaw shrugged. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. I just couldn’t remember meeting that cat over there before, that’s all.”

“Ah, I see,” Mistyfur meowed. “That’s probably because you didn’t. That’s Dewleaf, the oldest cat in ThunderClan. He was our medicine cat before Ivyfrost, and he stays in the medicine den most of the time, so that’s why you didn’t see him before. We never could convince him to move in with the elders.” Lowering her voice to a low whisper, she added, “He’s the last cat alive that ever laid eyes on Firestar.”

Not understanding the depth of what those words could mean, Buepaw asked, “Well, what’s so important about that?”

Mistyfur’s eyes widened, and then she shook her head. “I guess I thought every cat had heard of Firestar. Come on; follow me and I’ll explain it to you.”

Bluepaw followed Mistyfur to a shady corner of the Camp. She sat down, curling her tail around her paws and gazing expectantly at Mistyfur.

“Many, many seasons ago,” Mistyfur began, “before the Twolegplace where you lived was ever built, ThunderClan was led by the greatest leader in its history: Firestar. His flame colored pelt was like no other cat, and his wisdom in leading the Clan has never been matched.” Her eyes darted to Bluepaw. “I’m not saying that Ravenstar isn’t a good leader, or anything. Don’t get me wrong. She’s a great leader. But no one will ever be Firestar.”

Bluepaw blinked, understanding.

“Anyways, Firestar had kin within the Clan. His sister’s kit, Cloudtail. Cloudtail’s mate Brightheart gave birth to a litter of kits on the day of the battle with Dark Forest. Now, that’s a whole other story that I don’t have time to tell right now. But anyways, one of these kits was…” she paused, seeing if Bluepaw was catching on.

“Dewleaf?” Bluepaw guessed.

“Precisely.”

“Wow, so how old is he?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Mistyfur shrugged. “Nobody knows for sure. He was old when Icepool was still an apprentice.”

Bluepaw didn’t say anything more. She just sat there trying to comprehend all of this information.

“You know, Silverpaw and Sunpaw are directly related to Firestar,” Mistyfur added, after several heartbeats of silence.

“Wow,” Bluepaw breathed. “That’s so cool! They must feel pretty special to be related to such an important cat!”

Amusement sparkled in Mistyfur’s eyes. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked.

“Oh, yes!” Bluepaw quickly replied.

Before Mistyfur could reply, they were interrupted by Ivyfrost. She came sprinting over to them, her white paws gliding over the stone ground.

“Mistyfur!” she called.

Mistyfur stood, concern written on her face. “What is it, Ivyfrost? Is something wrong?”

“Do you have any idea where Ravenstar is?” Ivyfrost asked, glancing nervously over at Bluepaw.

Puzzled, Mistyfur replied, “No, I don’t. I think she went on a hunting patrol shortly before Bluepaw and I left, though. She should be back any minute.”

Ivyfrost nodded, looking tense.

“Is everything okay, Ivyfrost?” Mistyfur prompted.

“I just need to speak with Ravenstar as soon as she gets back,” Ivyfrost explained. “Could you let her know if you see her?”

Mistyfur nodded. “I certainly will.”

“Thank you.” With that, Ivyfrost padded back to her den. Bluepaw noticed that Dewleaf was no longer sitting outside of it as Ivyfrost shoved her way through the brambles and into the den.

“Well that was strange,” Mistyfur murmured, her eyes still on the medicine den.

Bluepaw nodded her agreement. As she watched the bramble den, and icy shiver shot down her spine. A light breeze hit her face, and whispering words surrounded her.

The prophecy is fulfilled… 

“Huh, wha-“ Bluepaw spun around, confused. The voice hadn’t been Mistyfur’s. It had been raspy, and old-sounding. But still, no other cat was near that could have whispered it. She glanced at Mistyfur. Mistyfur was staring at her with a questioning gaze.

“What?” Mistyfur asked. By the look on her face, Bluepaw could tell that she hadn’t heard the voice.

Shuffling her paws, Bluepaw looked down at the ground and mumbled, “Nothing. It was probably just the wind.”

Not fully satisfied, but not wanting to prod, Mistyfur just nodded. Then she stretched, pushing her front paws out and lowering her body to the ground, leaving her back end up.

“Well,” Mistyfur meowed, “enough sitting around. I’m going to get something to eat. Why don’t you go see if the queens need anything?”

“Alright.”

Bluepaw padded over to the nursery. Its thick walls were made of brambles gand roots that had been tightly woven together so that the queens and their kits would be perfectly cozy inside.

She poked her head through the entrance, the brambles tugging satisfyingly at her pelt.

“Hello,” she greeted.

Hazeltail, the light brown queen she had seen when she first arrived at the Camp, was supervising the rambunctious play of her three kits – Pebblekit, Goldkit, and Heatherkit. They wrestled on the earthen floor, their playful mewing mixed with grunts of frustration and the thud of their small bodies against the hard ground.

They quickly broke up their play at the sound of Bluepaw’s voice, and sat staring at her in wide-eyed wonder.

“Why hello, Bluepaw,” Hazeltail meowed. “I was just telling my kits that they have a long ways to go before they can be an apprentice like you. They were practicing their fighting skills just now so that they could be ready.” She let out a mrrow of laughter.

Bluepaw echoed her laughter.

Goldkit- trying to act older than he really was - turned to his mother. “Do we have to stay in this stuffy nursery all day?” he mewed impatiently.

Amusement glowed in the queen’s hazel eyes. “Why don’t you three go and fetch something from the fresh-kill pile to share.” She gently shoved them towards the entrance with her muzzle.

Bluepaw stepped aside to let the excited kits pass.

“Kits,” Hazeltail murmured, shaking her head. “Barely three moons old, and already determined to be the best warriors in ThunderClan.”

“But at least they’ve set their goals high,” Bluepaw pointed out. Her whiskers twitched amusedly.

Hazeltail purred. “Yes, that’s true,” she agreed.

“Mistyfur sent me to see if you needed anything,” Bluepaw explained.

“Well, we could use some fresh moss in here,” Hazeltail meowed. “Do you know where to find it?”

Bluepaw nodded. Mistyfur had shown her earlier that day.

Hazeltail began clearing the soiled moss out of the den, and Bluepaw crawled in to help.

A sudden rustle at the den entrance announced the entrance of Goldenrose, a beautiful golden tabby queen. Her belly was sagging with her unborn kits. Bluepaw noticed the faint scent of mouse clinging to her, and concluded that she must have just come from the fresh kill pile.

“Hello, Goldenrose,” Bluepaw greeted.

Goldenrose gave a polite nod, then settled down in the spot the two cats had just cleared.

Bluepaw shot Hazeltail a questioning glance, and Hazeltail responded with a sympathetic blink.

“I can finish in here,” Hazeltail meowed. “Why don’t you go get the fresh moss?”

Outside the nursery, the Camp was a bustle of activity. A few tail lengths away, Patchear and Smokewhisp were sharing tongues. Smokewhisp drew his tongue over Patchear’s calico pelt, while she licked his gray fur.

Flashfang and another black and white cat – Eaglieflight – were napping in front of the warrior’s den. Bluepaw remembered that they had come back from the dawn patrol shortly before she and Mistyfur left, and guessed that they must be trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep. A nap didn’t sound like a bad idea to her either. Her sore paws felt heavy as she dragged them out of the Camp to find some fresh moss.

She found a tree that had plenty of dry moss clinging to it, and quickly scraped some of it off and bundled it into one large ball.

A rustle at the thorn entrance made her glance over. Ravenstar, Silverpaw, and Rustclaw, Ravenstar’s mate, pushed through, their jaws full of fresh-kill. Silverpaw placed his catch – a squirrel and two voles – onto the pile, and selected a piece for himself.

Bluepaw watched him eat as she bundled the ball fresh moss towards the nursery. She wondered what it would be like to have been born into the Clan. For one thing, she wouldn’t have Flashfang breathing down her neck expecting her to fail because she was a kittypet. And all these new phrases she had to get used to! It was like a whole new language, almost.

Bluepaw shook her head. She had made her choice, and she wouldn’t back down from it now. With renewed determination, she hauled the moss the last few tail-lengths to the nursery.

“Here you go,” she grunted, pushing it through the entrance. A neat pile of the soiled moss lay outside the den, ready to be hauled away.

She helped Hazeltail spread the new moss out, and was just about to tend to the soiled pile when Silverpaw’s voice came from behind her.

“Want some help?” he meowed.

Bluepaw blinked gratefully at him. “Yes, please,” she replied.

They worked side by side, his pelt barely brushing hers as they shoved the moss over to the smaller entrance that led to the place where the cats made their dirt.

“Thanks,” Bluepaw meowed, after they had finished.

Silverpaw shrugged. “Clearing out moss is one of an Apprentice’s main jobs. I’m used to it.” Then he curled his lip. “But being used to it doesn’t make it smell any better,” he joked.

Bluepaw laughed softly, and her eyes sparkled amusedly.

Silverpaw stretched, arching his back high.

“You two should get some rest now,” Mistyfur remarked, coming up behind them.

“I wouldn’t mind a good nap now,” Silverpaw meowed, yawning.

“Me neither,” Bluepaw agreed.

At the apprentice den, they found Rainpaw curled up in a moss nest. Her gray tabby flank rose and fell steadily, and her soft breathing surrounded Bluepaw as she settled down in a nest on the far side of the den.

Rainpaw stirred as Bluepaw scraped a pile of moss and bracken into a nest for herself. She opened her bright yellow eyes and blinked at Bluepaw. She looked confused for a moment, but then recognition flooded her expression.

“You can sleep over here by me,” Rainpaw told her, motioning to a nest right next to hers.

Bluepaw blinked gratefully and padded over to the light gray apprentice. She felt the warmth of Rainpaw’s body seep into hers as she curled up next to her.

“Thanks,” she murmured. She was barely conscious of Silverpaw curling up in a nest near the den entrance as she slid away into the comforting embrace of sleep.

Chapter Six

*

           

Ravenstar shouldered her way into the medicine den, following Ivyfrost. The bitter tang of the different leafs and plants greeted her. Neat piles of herbs and berries lay stacked against the rock wall of the den.

Normally, Ravenstar avoided coming into this den. Too many memories hung in the air and pricked her fur like bramble thorns.

Ravenstar shuddered as she remembered the last time she had come into the medicine den. Lilystripe had been lying on the ground in a bleeding, battered heap.

She shook her head to clear the awful memory from her view.

“What is it, Ivyfrost?” she asked.

Ivyfrost shuffled her paws and uncertainty flashed briefly in her eyes.

“I think there’s something you should hear, Ravenstar.” She turned around, poking her head into the large crack at the back of the den. “Dewleaf,” she meowed softly, “she’s here.”

Ravenstar heard a satisfied grunt, and then a shuffling as the old cat rose to his paws and squeezed into the main part of the den. His pawsteps were wobbly, and he looked the most feeble Ravenstar had ever seen him.

Ravenstar dipped her hear respectfully, and he blinked and nodded slightly. It seemed like any kind of movement was becoming difficult for this wise, old medicine cat. He no longer served as the medicine cat – his memory was too foggy to remember treatments, and the effort and constant stress was too much for his frail body anymore.

Dewleaf drew in a ragged breath before speaking. “Ravenstar, I have had a dream.” He paused to cough, earning him a concerned look from Ivyfrost. She moved as if to offer assistance, but he stopped her with a wave his tail. “A sign. From StarClan,” he continued. Each word was wheezed out.

Ravenstar pricked her ears as he went on, “In my dream, I saw,” he was interrupted by another coughing fit.

Ivyfrost placed her tail tip on his shoulder, her one blue eye and one green eye glowing with compassion. “I can tell her the rest, Dewleaf. I remember what you told me.”

Dewleaf simply nodded, too exhausted to reply. He sank down on his haunches and sagged his shoulders.

“In his dream, he saw the lake glittering beneath a bright blue sky. Everything was peaceful, when suddenly the territory all around the lake suddenly changed. Our territory was covered in twoleg nests, along with ShadowClan’s. On WindClan and RiverClan territory, the earth was churned up leaving nothing but bare, exposed dirt.”

Ravenstar widened her eyes. Twolegs had been pushing closer and closer towards the lake, lessening the territory little by little each year. But she never imagined it could get that bad! StarClan had never sent any signs warning them before. Why would they now? Would the forest really be taken over by twolegs? She shuddered at the thought.

“Then dark storm clouds gathered, and the whole scene was darkened,” Ivyfrost went on, “when a sudden streak of silver and blue split the sky, sending the storm clouds scattering.” Ivyfrost’s eyes had a faraway look in them, as if she was truly visualizing the scene she had just described.

“Is that all?” Ravenstar asked, turning her gaze to Dewleaf.

He nodded, his dull yellow eyes staring blankly at the ground. He shuddered as he drew in another wheezing breath. “I had this same dream many, many seasons ago. I had almost forgotten about it until last night when it came to me again,” another coughing fit shook his body, but he continued speaking: “When I first had the dream, StarClan told me I would live to see the cats that would fulfill the prophecy,” he meowed shakily.

 A jolt of shock ripped through Ravenstar. Silver and Blue? Silverpaw and Bluepaw? Her eyes widened.

“Do you mean…” she began.

Dewleaf and Ivyfrost exchanged a glance. Ivyfrost nodded slightly to Dewleaf, then looked directly into Ravenstar’s eyes.

“Silverpaw and Bluepaw hold the destiny of the Clans in their paws,” she murmured.

Ravenstar gasped. “But Bluepaw just joined ThunderClan. How can she be expected to save it from danger when she barely has had any apprentice training? And Silverpaw – he is still young as well,” the sentences tumbled out of Ravenstar in a confused flood. She paced back and forth, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

After a few heartbeats, Dewleaf spoke again: “The time is not yet. They will know when it is time,” he reassured her. Then he added, “Have patience. StarClan will not fail you.”

Ravenstar felt peace descend on her, but it was fleeting. A moment later, fear gripped her again, and her thoughts became jumbled and questioning.

“Tonight is half moon time,” Ivyfrost meowed. “I will ask StarClan for more guidance when I journey to the Moonpool.”

Ravenstar nodded and stopped pacing.  That was good. If this really was true, StarClan would definitely tell Ivyfrost tonight. She shivered as if a sudden cold blast of air had hit her pelt. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough for Ravenstar…

* * *

A stiff breeze flattened Storm’s dark gray mud-streaked fur against his sides, bringing with it the scent of a falcon. The earth beneath his paws was smooth, brown rock, and a few scraggly bushes and clumps of grass poked their way through cracks in the hard ground. He breathed in the clear, mountain air. The scent of falcon was stronger now. He glanced over at the patrol he was with. They were crouched in the meager shadows that the bushed provided, their gray-brown, lithe bodies camouflaged against the rock as if they were carved from the stones themselves.

Storm was perched on a rocky ledge above the hunting patrol, keeping a watchful eye out for hawks and eagles. Eagles were one of the Tribe’s worst fears; an eagle could easily take advantage of an unsuspecting cat, so cave-guards kept a lookout on every hunting patrol.

A shadow flicked over him, and a heartbeat later a falcon swooped down to catch its prey – a scrawny-looking rabbit. The prey-hunters were quick. In a heartbeat, they had pinned the falcon to the ground and quickly finished it off. Its body lay limp on the rocky ground, the rabbit clutched in its sharp talons.

Storm clambered down to join the patrol.

“Nice catch,” he remarked.

A silvery-gray she-cat padded up to him, flicking her tail affectionately across his ears. “Nice lookout,” she meowed back.

Storm knew his sister, Pool, was just trying to make him feel better. From the moment he was born, he knew deep within his heart that he wanted to be a prey-hunter. But when he was a kit, Stoneteller had assigned him to train as a cave-guard, while Pool had been chosen to be a prey-hunter.

Disappointment stung him every time he thought about that day.

He admired the way the prey-hunters seemed so graceful as they skillfully pounced on the various prey that they Tribe survived on. Being a cave-guard was so dull. All he did was look out for the hunting patrols and guard the Cave of Pointed Stones where Stoneteller made her den. And there really wasn’t anything to protect it from. In seasons past, before he – or anyone else in the Tribe, for that matter – was even born, there had been trouble with rogue cats trying to take over the mountains for themselves. But the Clan cats had come and helped the Tribe put them in their place. They hadn’t bothered the Tribe anymore, and soon they left the mountains. Obviously the rogues weren’t suited for mountain life.  

He sighed, wishing he could have been a cave-guard then, instead of now when everything was so boring. Being a to-be hadn’t been much fun for him.

But his to-be days were moons behind him now. The Tribe of Endless Hunting had shown him his path in life, and he had dutifully trod it with determined pawsteps.

“I think we’ve got enough for today,” a solid black prey-hunter announced.

A light brown tabby stepped forward. “I agree, Feather. Let’s take what we have and head back.”

“Leaf, can you help me carry this falcon,” Pool meowed, her teeth clenched on the wing of the falcon they had just brought down.

Leaf hurried over to help, and the group was soon on its way back.

* * *

Storm felt a paw prodding his side, rousing him from his sleep. He blinked his eyes open to see the face of his friend, Eagle, peering over him.

“Stoneteller wishes to speak with you,” Eagle hissed in his ear.

“What for?”

Eagle’s only reply was a quick shrug before he bounded away to join a hunting patrol that was just about to leave. “Good luck!” he called over his shoulder.

Storm glanced over at the entrance to the cave. The light that came through the rushing water that shielded the entrance was pale and wavering; he could tell it was still early in the morning. He rose from his sleeping place – a shallow scoop in the earth floor of the cave lined with eagle feathers and moss – and stretched.

Before going to talk to Stoneteller, he stopped at a shallow pool fed by a small stream. The water trickled over a mossy rock and down to the floor of the cave. He crouched down to drink; the water was cool and tasted delicious. He lapped up his fill, then once again rose to his paws.    

At the back of the cave, he was met by his sister, Pool. He gave her a questioning stare. Did she know what this was all about?  She met his gaze with equal curiosity.

“Does Stonteller want to talk to you too, Pool?”

She nodded. “I was going to go on the hunting patrol, but Eagle told me that Stoneteller wished to speak with me.”

Storm stifled a mrrow of laughter. “I bet you were disappointed that you weren’t going to be able to go hunting with Eagle,” he teased.

Pool gave a playful hiss before gently cuffing the side of his head with her forepaw. His amusement was reflected on her face.

Just then, a dark brown tabby tom emerged out of the gap in the stone wall of the cave.

Pool and Storm both dipped their heads respectfully.

“Hello, Red Leaf Rushed Downstream. We were told that Stoneteller wished to speak with us,” Storm quickly explained.

            Red grunted. “Come with me.”

            They followed him through a gap opened up to a long narrow tunnel. The tunnel led to another cave. Sharp rocks jutted out of the floor and hung from the ceiling. This was the Cave of Pointed Stones, the place where Stoneteller shared tongues with the Tribe of Endless Hunting.

A shiver raced down Storm’s spine. What if his ancestors were looking down on him now? Would they be proud of him? He tried to do his best at his cave-guard duties even though to him they were dull. He thought of his ancestor, Stormfur. He had come to the Tribe long, long ago – before any of the cats in the Tribe were even born. His sister, Feathertail, had saved the Tribe from Sharptooth. Sharptooth was a huge cat that had terrorized the tribe, killing several of the cats and injuring many others. Feathertail had fulfilled the prophecy of the Tribe of Endless Hunting and killed Sharptooth. Tragically, she also lost her own life that day. The Tribe honored her to this day, and Storm thought of her every time he went past the pile of stones that marked the place where she had been buried so long ago.

Stormfur had stayed with the Tribe, and he and Brook Where Small Fish Swim had several litters of kits. Storm’s mother, Fog that Floats in the Valley, was descended from one of those litters, and she had passed on Stormfur’s noble name to her son. It was a name he bore with pride.

Storm’s thoughts were interrupted when Pool nudged him. His fur was hot with embarrassment. How long had he been lost in his own thoughts? Movement at the end of the cave caught his eye; Red had padded over to Stoneteller and brushed his muzzle gently across his mate’s. He murmured something in her ear that Storm couldn’t catch and the two old cats came over to him and his sister.

“Storm that Rises Swiftly, Pool that Sparkles in Starlight,” Stoneteller rasped, “The Tribe of Endless Hunting have sent me a sign.”

Storm’s fur pricked. Why would Stoneteller be telling them about a sign she had received?

She took a deep breath before continuing. “You are to travel to the lake where the Clans live. They are in need of your assistance.”

Chapter Seven

*

Storm felt a jolt of shock, as powerful as a bolt of lightning, rip through him. The Clans? What assistance could he and Pool possibly provide? How would they get there? What kind of trouble were they in? A swirl of thoughts clouded Storm’s mind as the shock of this announcement settled upon him.

Pool seemed calmer, and she hesitantly asked, “Should we leave today?”

Stoneteller shook her head. “You are to wait until the snow has come and gone from this mountain. Then, on the first full moon after the thaw, you and Storm are to follow the setting sun to the Clans. The Tribe of Endless Hunting will help you along your way.”

“But what can we do for them? We’re just two cats!” Storm broke in.

Stoneteller studied Storm’s face with her wise amber eyes. Suddenly, she looked very weary. “I do not know,” she replied, keeping her gaze fixed on Storm’s face. “I only know that this is your destiny, and you must fulfill it. Much waits for you in the Clans, Storm. You and your sister Pool will gain much from this experience.”

Storm held her gaze, trying to read the thoughts that swam in her eyes like fish in a pool. For the first time, he noticed how old Stoneteller seemed. Her gray-brown fur hung in ragged clumps on her thin, worn body, the fur around her muzzle had grayed with age, and her whiskers were bent and uneven. He knew that she was on her last life, and that soon she would go to join the Tribe of Endless Hunting, but quiet determination glowed within her bright amber eyes. There was a fire within them that was unquenchable. Storm knew that she would do anything to protect the Tribe, and her wisdom and foresight had made her a very successful leader.

Nodding, he slowly meowed, “Okay. We’ll do it. I only pray that the Tribe of Endless Hunting will guide our pawsteps.” 

* * *

“All right, I think that’s it,” Silverpaw meowed.

Bluepaw stepped back to survey their work. She and Silverpaw, along with Bramblewhisker and his apprentice, Rainpaw, had just finished patching up the nursery.

“Are you warm enough in there, Goldenrose?” Bramblewhisker asked, poking his head into the nursery entrance.

“Yes! We’re snug as fox cubs now,” came the muffled reply.

Bluepaw felt a twinge of satisfaction. Goldenrose had just recently kitted, and it was important that she and her kits stayed very warm.

Leaf-fall was upon the forest, and the air was now quite chilly – especially at night. The Clan often woke to a frost-covered clearing in the mornings, and the leaves on the trees surrounding the lake had turned brilliant reds, goldens, and oranges.

“Want to go get something to eat,” Rainpaw mewed.

Bluepaw stifled a small mrrow of laughter. Rainpaw, it seemed, was always hungry. Her slender gray body hid the fact that she really did eat quite well. Often times, Rainpaw seemed almost frail, but Bluepaw knew her better than to think that. In the moons that Bluepaw had been a part of ThunderClan, she and Rainpaw had become very close, and Bluepaw knew that underneath that small frame was a healthy and energetic young apprentice who enjoyed life to the fullest.

“Sure!” she replied. And the two padded off to the fresh-kill pile, their pelts barely brushing.

Silverpaw, after exchanging a few words with Bramblewhisker, bounded after the two she-cats. “Mind if I join you?” he asked when he caught up to them.

“Of course not,” Bluepaw quickly replied.

After selecting a piece of fresh-kill, the three apprentices took their prey and went to lay down on the basking rocks to eat it.

Silverpaw seemed somewhat restless as he ate. He and Sunpaw had been in training for six moons, and it was time for them to become full warriors of ThunderClan.
            Bluepaw envied them. She couldn’t wait to receive her warrior name and become a full-fledged ThunderClan warrior. But she had only been in training for three moons. It would still be a while before she completed her training. Rainpaw had been apprenticed shortly before Bluepaw had come to join ThunderClan, and she was hoping to be given her warrior name at the same time as her friend.

After finishing the last mouthful of her meal, Bluepaw started to groom herself. She had just finished when something caught her eye. Sunpaw, along with his mentor Quickstep, entered the Camp followed by Snowstorm and Flashfang. Each cat carried a load of fresh-kill.

Snowstorm had recently been given her warrior name, and was almost as bad a nuisance as Flashfang. She acted like she was so much better than the apprentices even though she had been one herself merely a moon ago. It was obvious that she liked Flashfang. She followed him whenever possible, and was more than happy to be assigned to the same patrols as he was. Flashfang pretended to take no notice, but Bluepaw suspected he was soaking up the attention like dry moss soaks up water.

After depositing his catch on the fresh-kill pile, Sunpaw selected a plump squirrel for himself and came over to join Bluepaw, Rainpaw, and Silverpaw.

“How did it go, Sunpaw?” Silverpaw meowed once Sunpaw had settled down with his prey.

Sunpaw shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of squirrel. “The prey’s running well, but I suspect that will change once leaf-bare sets in.”

Rainpaw murmured her agreement.

The conversation was interrupted by a yowl from Ravenstar. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!”

Silverpaw sprang to his paws. His eyes shone.

His excitement was mirrored on the face of his brother, Sunpaw, who quickly gulped down the last of his squirrel.

Bluepaw and Rainpaw followed the brothers as the bounded over to the Highledge where their father, Darkpelt, was waiting for them. Darkpelt looked as proud as any father to see his sons finally become warriors. He circled his kits and gave them each a lick on the forehead before settling down to wait for the meeting to start.

Mistyfur emerged from the warrior den followed by Patchear, Smokewhisp, and Eagleflight. Bluepaw noticed that Mistyfur seemed to be spending a lot of time with Eagleflight lately. She was glad. Mistyfur was so nice; she deserved a wonderful cat like Eagleflight to be her mate.

Eagleflight padded over to Silverpaw and Sunpaw. “I can’t wait to go on patrols with you two as warriors now,” he meowed. His brown eyes glowed warmly.

Rustclaw and Darkpelt settled themselves close to the base of the Highledge, and Bramblewhisker sat next to his mate, Hazeltail, with their three kits in front of them.  Their fur was fluffed up with excitement, and Hazeltail was trying in vain to smooth it with brisk licks.

 “Today is a very special day for our Clan. I have the privilege of giving warrior names to Silverpaw and Sunpaw, and apprentice names to Heatherkit, Pebblekit, and Goldkit,” Ravenstar began.

Excitement rippled over the Clan. It wasn’t often that the two ceremonies took place on the same day.

Bluepaw looked over at the kits. They looked ready to burst with excitement as they looked up at Ravenstar, their eyes sparkling.  

“I, Ravenstar - leader of ThunderClan - call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.”

Quickstep looked on with satisfaction as Sunpaw and Silverpaw stepped into the clearing at the base of the Highledge.

“Sunpaw, Silverpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?” Ravenstar continued.

“I do,” Sunpaw meowed determinedly.

His brother echoed him. “I do.”

“Then by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior names.” Ravenstar stepped down to brush her pelt against Sunpaw’s. “Sunpaw, from this moment you shall be known as Sunpelt.” She stepped back, approval glowing in her yellow eyes. “StarClan honors your loyalty and bravery.”

Silverpaw stepped forward to brush pelts with Ravenstar.

“Silverpaw, from this moment you shall be known as Silverheart. StarClan honors your courage and determination.”

“Sunpelt! Silverheart!” The Clan enthusiastically shouted the names of their newest warriors. Bluepaw caught Rainpaw’s eye as they cheered for their friends. She knew Rainpaw was looking forward to their naming ceremony as much as she was.

“We have another ceremony to take care of,” Ravenstar went on after the cheering had died down.

“Heatherkit, Pebblekit, Goldkit, come forward.”

The kits came bounding up, their pelts bristling with excitement in spite of Hazeltail’s careful grooming.

“These kits have reached their sixth moon and are ready to become Thunderclan apprentices. Heatherkit, from this day forward, until you have earned your warrior name, you shall be known as Heatherpaw.”

“Heatherpaw! Heatherpaw!” Bluepaw called. The rest of the Clan joined in.

“Eagleflight,” Ravenstar called.

Eagleflight looked up, excitement showing in his eyes as he stepped forward.

“You are ready for your first apprentice. You have learned much and have proved your loyalty to ThunderClan.”

Eagleflight dipped his head as Ravenstar went on. “I trust you to pass your skills on to Heatherpaw. Teach her the warrior code and help her become a warrior the Clan can be proud of.”

“I’ll do my best,” Eagleflight promised.

Heatherpaw shyly stepped forward to touch muzzles with her new mentor.

“Pebblekit,” Ravenstar continued. “From this day forward, until you have earned your warrior name, you shall be known as Pebblepaw.”

“Pebblepaw! Pebblepaw!” Rainpaw started the chant.

Pebblepaw proudly gazed at her Clan as they called her new name.

“Patchear,” Ravenstar meowed.

Patchear rose to her paws to stand in front of the Clan leader.

“You have served your Clan for many seasons. You were an excellent mentor to Flashfang, and I trust that you will do just as well with Pebblepaw.”

Patchear dipped her head to Ravenstar before touching noses with Pebblepaw.

“And finally, Goldkit.”

Goldkit sprang forward, his ginger pelt bristling, and his claws scraping the ground.

“From this day forward, until you have earned your warrior name, you shall be known as Goldpaw. Your mentor will be Rustclaw.”

Rustclaw came forward.

“Rustclaw, you have been a great blessing to the Clan and I hope that you will help Goldpaw to become a great warrior as well.”

“I will, Ravenstar,” he vowed, dipping his head.

Goldpaw stretched up to touch noses with his mentor.

“Goldpaw! Goldpaw!” Silverheart called, followed by the rest of the Clan.

After the chant died down, Ravenstar spoke again. “ThunderClan is lucky to have had these two ceremonies today. I hope that these new warriors and apprentices will serve the Clan to the best of their abilities and prove themselves worthy of Thunderclan.”

“I will!” Heatherpaw meowed.

Her siblings echoed her vow, along with Silverheart and Sunpaw.

“Heatherpaw, would you like to find a nest in the Apprentice den before I show you the forest?” Eagleflight asked his apprentice.

Heatherpaw nodded fervently. “Oh yes,” she breathed. She skipped off after Eagleflight to the apprentice den.

“Can we start with battle training?” Goldpaw asked Rustclaw.

As the eager new apprentices left with their mentors, Mistyfur came padding up to Bluepaw.

“One day that will be you standing in front of Ravenstar,” Mistyfur purred.

Bluepaw felt her pelt tingle. Yes! One day I’ll earn my name too!

Mistyfur and Bluepaw, along with Rainpaw went to congratulate the new warriors.

“Congratulations, you two,” Bluepaw meowed.

The two brothers dipped their heads, eyes shining with pride.

“Thank you,” Silverheart meowed. Bluepaw felt his gaze warm on her pelt and looked away.

“I wonder what your warrior names will be,” Sunpelt meowed to her and Rainpaw.

“Yeah, me too,” Rainpaw breathed. “I hope it’s something cool, like your names. I’d hate to be called ‘Raindrop’ or something like that.”

A mrrow of laughter erupted from the two new warriors and Bluepaw.

“Well, now that you two are warriors,” Bluepaw meowed after the laughter had died down, “don’t start acting like Flashfang and Snowstorm.”

Sunpelt shook his head vigorously. “I’d never act like them,” he assured her.

“Yeah, what fun would it be acting so prickly and stuck up all the time?” Silverheart added.

Just then, Darkpelt came over. “Silverheart, Rainpaw, you and Bramblewhisker are going on a border patrol.”

 “Alright.” Silverheart nodded.

Rainpaw sprang up. “Yes! I’ve been waiting to get out of the Camp all day!”

Darkpelt turned to Bluepaw. “You and Mistyfur can go with Smokewhisp on a hunting patrol.”

“I’ll come too,” Sunpelt broke in. “That is, unless you had something else you wanted me to do.”

Darkpelt shrugged. “That’s fine. I just thought you might want to rest since you just got back from a hunting patrol.”

Sunpelt arched his back and stretched out his front legs. “Who could rest after something like this?”

Darkpelt nudged his son affectionately. “Go ahead, then.”

As the hunting patrol set out, Bluepaw breathed in the crisp air. She loved being out in the forest. I wonder how I ever survived being cooped up inside all the time, she wondered.

Warm prey-scent drifted into her nostrils and the dry leaves crackled beneath her paws.

“We should hunt near the abandoned Twoleg nest,” Sunpelt suggested. “No one’s hunted there for a while.”

Smokewhisp nodded. He was technically in charge of the patrol, but he appreciated suggestions from other cats. “Good idea, Sunpelt. I can see Quickstep trained you well.”

Sunpelt let out a purr of satisfaction at the older warrior’s praise.

As the group neared the twoleg nest, Bluepaw could taste the acrid scent of the old Thunderpath. No twoleg monsters had driven on it for many seasons – Mistyfur had said it was abandoned even at the time Firestar had led ThunderClan – but it still smelled horrible. Bluepaw had grown used to the earthy smells of the forest around her and now disliked the scent around Twolegplaces and Thunderpaths.

Finally, Bluepaw and the others pushed through the bracken and heather that bordered the Thunderpath and stepped out onto the hard, rocky surface.

The smell of Twolegs seemed stronger than normal. Something wasn’t right.

Bluepaw glanced over at Smokewhisp. He must have noticed it too; he was standing still with his ears perked forward. His mouth was open to let the scents wash over his scent glands so that he could identify then better.

Mistyfur was studying Smokewhisp too. She gave him a questioning stare, to which he responded with a flick of his tail.

“Stay here,” he whispered. “I’ll check it out first.”

Mistyfur nodded and motioned for Bluepaw and Sunpelt to follow her to the ditch on the edge of the Thunderpath.

Smokewhisp crept forward to the stand of trees that grew around the Twoleg nest. He weaved around them, keeping his thin, gray body low to the ground.

Finally, he crept around a tree and Bluepaw could no longer see him.

“What do we do now?” Bluepaw questioned Mistyfur, worry making her voice more shrill than she had intended.

“Well, I guess we just wait,” Mistyfur responded.

Sunpelt shifted his weight uneasily. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he muttered. “I’m going to follow him.” He rose to his paws.

“Don’t be a mousebrain!” Mistyfur hissed. “Stay here and wait for Smokewhisp.”

Sunpelt sighed. “Okay, but this waiting is killing me.”

“Be patient. He’ll be back any minute.”

As if on cue, Smokewhisp came shooting out from the trees, his eyes wide and his neck fur bristling.

Mistyfur jerked to her paws. “What is it?” she urgently asked.

Smokewhisp looked like he had just seen a whole Clan of StarClan warriors.

Smokewhisp caught his breath before replying. “Twolegs. In bright orange pelts.”

Chapter Eight

*

Silverheart stared in horror at the sight that lay before him. He and Rainpaw, along with her mentor Bramblewhisker, were on a border patrol near the small Twoleg path that now served as a border marker between ThunderClan’s and ShadowClan’s territories. About three foxlengths from the path lay the torn and bloodied body of a mouse – ThunderClan’s primary prey. It reeked strongly of ShadowClan.

A hiss rose in Silverheart’s throat. What message was ShadowClan trying to send? Not only did this mean that ShadowClan had stolen prey, they had also just left it without even eating it. Such waste was terribly disrespectful when leaf-bare would soon be upon them. Prey was already more scarce than it had been during green-leaf, and the ground would soon become colder, sending the prey down into underground burrows.

“What should we do, Bramblewhisker?” Rainpaw asked her mentor. Her neck fur was bristling with fury.

Bramblewhisker gazed across the Twoleg path, scanning ShadowClan’s territory. “Well, we can’t do much right now. If a ShadowClan patrol came, we would be terribly outnumbered,” Bramblewhisker meowed, his voice bitter with regret. “We will report this to Ravenstar, and I’m sure she will question Oakstar about it at the Gathering tomorrow night.”

Rainpaw gave a small hiss. “If only I could get my paws on one of those ShadowClan apprentices. I’d claw his ears off!” she spat.

Silverheart nodded his agreement. “ShadowClan can’t just get away with this.”

“Let’s head back.” Bramblewhisker turned and motioned for Silverheart and Rainpaw to follow him.

Bramblewhisker led the group at a swift pace as he pounded through the forest, his broad paws drumming the ground with each pawstep.

Silverheart raced right behind Brambleclaw. He wondered what Ravenstar would say tomorrow night at the Gathering. Would she question ShadowClan about the prey, or would she accuse them of prey-stealing right then and there?

He felt a prick of excitement at the realization that this would be his first Gathering as a warrior. He wondered what Cedarpaw, a WindClan apprentice, would think when he found out that Silverheart was no longer an apprentice. Or  maybe Cedarpaw will have his warrior name too.  

Bramblewhisker slackened his pace as they neared the ThunderClan Camp. Finally, they came to the slope that led down to the Camp entrance. Silverheart went down slowly, careful not to slip down the hill on the fallen leaves that blanketed the forest floor. He didn’t want to arrive at the Camp covered in dirt.

Bramblewhisker burst through the thorn tunnel and into the Camp. Rainpaw and Silverheart were right at his heels as he made his way to Ravenstar’s den.

They found Ravenstar sunning herself in front of her den. Her reddish-brown pelt gleamed in the honey colored light that streamed down over the trees that surrounded the Camp.

“Ravenstar,” Bramblewhisker called when they were close enough for her to hear. “We have urgent news to report.”

Ravenstar rose to her paws, surprise showing on her face. “What is it?” she asked.

Darkpelt, hearing Bramblewhisker’s announcement, strode over to join them. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“We found a dead mouse near the ShadowClan border. It was on our side, and it had ShadowClan scent on it,” Bramblewhisker told them.

Ravenstar’s gaze darkened. “This is not good,” she murmured. “I will be sure to ask Oakstar about this tomorrow night at the Gathering. He will certainly have a lot of explaining to do.”

Bramblewhisker nodded. “If our patrol had been larger,” he glanced at Darkpelt, “we would have stayed and waited for a ShadowClan patrol to come by so that we could ask them about it. They couldn’t very well deny it if the evidence were sitting right in front of them.”

“You used wise judgment in coming back here instead,” Ravenstar meowed. “All three of you will be coming to the Gathering tomorrow to be witnesses for this awful offense. But,” she added, with a meaningful look at Rainpaw, “remember the truce. There will be no fighting.”

Rainpaw lashed her tail in frustration. “Mangy prey-stealers…” she muttered.

“I’ll be sure to send another patrol over to the ShadowClan border tonight,” Darkpelt promised. “And it will include at least three warriors and two apprentices. That way if ShadowClan tries anything, we’ll be ready for them.”

Just then, Smokewhisp’s hunting patrol entered the Camp. Mistyfur, Bluepaw, Sunpelt, and Smokewhisp were all loaded with prey. It had apparently been good hunting wherever they had been. However, in spite of the good catch, the four cats seemed edgy as they deposited their prey on the fresh-kill pile.

Silverheart bounded over to his brother.

“What happened, Sunpelt? It looks like you just got the fur scared off of you,” he joked. But he sobered when he heard Sunpelt’s reply.

“Smokewhisp spotted twolegs in bright orange pelts near the old abandoned Twoleg nest.”

Silverheart thought back to the stories he had often heard the elders tell him when he and Sunpelt were merely kits. His favorite story had been the story of the Great Journey in which all four Clans had been forced to leave their old territory and had come to the lake. The elders had always said that the reason the Clans had been forced to leave was that Twolegs had destroyed their territory. They had leveled the forests, churned up the earth, and taken over the territory. But it hadn’t been just any ordinary Twolegs. It had been Twolegs in bright orange pelts.

Silverheart shivered as he thought of what would happen if the Twolegs once again began to take over the territory.

He looked at Sunpelt. Sunpelt’s amber eyes had a faraway look in them as if he were wondering exactly the same thing.

“You don’t think…” he began, unable to finish.

Sunpelt shook his head as if trying to reassure himself as much as Silverheart. “No. They didn’t have any monsters with them, and there were only three of them.”

Despite these reassuring words, Silverheart couldn’t stop an icy claw of dread from raking down his spine.

Smokewhisp and Mistyfur had gone to report their findings to Ravenstar and Darkpelt. Silverheart decided to occupy his mind by fetching some fresh moss for the nursery. He knew it was an apprentice task, but he didn’t feel like just standing around doing nothing, and the new apprentices were off in the forest with their mentors, while Rainpaw and Bluepaw had slipped into the apprentice den to catch a quick nap.

Silverheart slipped out of the thorn entrance to the Camp and searched for some nice, dry moss. When he found what he was looking for, he quickly clawed some of it off the tree and rolled it into a nice moss ball.

When he arrived at the nursery with the moss, he found Goldenrose suckling her kits.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he meowed softly, “but I thought you could use some fresh moss.”

Goldenrose gave him a grateful look. “Thank you, Silverheart. But isn’t that an apprentice job?”

Silverheart shrugged. “Yeah, but I didn’t have anything else to do, and none of the apprentices are available right now.”

“Well, thank you anyways,” she replied.

Silverheart looked at her kits. There was one she-cat – a brown and white tabby – and one tom – a dark brown tabby. Niether of them looked much like their parents, but he guessed that was often how it was with kits.

“Have you and Quickstep decided on names yet?” he asked. Even though the kits had been born about a half moon ago, their parents had postponed naming them. They said it was because they wanted to name them according to their personalities, but Silverheart guessed that it was really because they couldn’t agree on names. Quickstep and Goldenrose could both be very decided in their opinions, a quality that tended to create more than a few disagreements between the two.

“Yes, we have,” Goldenrose replied. “We call the she-kit Robinkit, and the tom Amberkit.”

Silverheart nodded. “Those are good names. And they’re beautiful kits.”

“Thank you.” Goldenrose bent down to lick her kits.

Silverheart took one last look at the tiny kits before backing out of the nursery. As he emerged, he almost bumped straight into Quickstep.

“Oh hello, Silverheart,” Quickstep meowed, a bit surprised to see him coming out of the nursery. “Congratulations on your warrior ceremony today.”

Silverheart gave a gracious dip of his head. “Thank you. I’ve just been in to give Goldenrose some fresh moss. You certainly have beautiful kits.”

Quickstep puffed his chest out. “Aren’t they?” he purred. His brown eyes were full of fatherly pride. “We’ve decided to name them Robinkit and Amberkit.”

“Yes, I know. Goldenrose just told me.” Silverheart stifled a tiny mrrow of laughter.

“Oh, I see,” Quickstep replied awkwardly. “Maybe you’ll be mentor to one of them,” he meowed.

Excitement pricked Silverheart at the thought of mentoring his own apprentice. “I’d like that very much.”

Quickstep nodded before heading in to the nursery to check on his mate and kits.

Silverheart stretched, and felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. I’d better get some sleep, he thought.

In the warrior’s den, he found that Mistyfur, Bramblewhisker, and Hazeltail had all shared his idea. They were curled up in nests of bracken fronds and moss fast asleep.

He padded over to an empty nest next to Bramblewhisker. It was strange sleeping amongst the warriors now, but in no time, Silverheart had slid into the comforting stillness of sleep.

* * *

His sleep was far from comforting, though, as a horrible dream stretched before his eyes. He was standing on an outcropping of rock that overlooked the entire lake and all of the territories. The sun shone directly over his head, and only a few puffy clouds scudded across the sky, driven by the light breeze that ruffled Silverheart’s pelt.

Suddenly, the ground in front of his eyes transformed in one horrifying instant. The earth that had once been WindClan and RiverClan territory was churned up, scarring the green landscape with a rich dark brown.

The pine forest that had once been ShadowClan territory was replaced by a large Twolegplace with many rows of Twoleg nest sticking up all crowded together.

Worst of all, his beloved home – Thunderclan territory – was covered in a maze of Thunderpaths and Twoleg nests much like the ones that had replaced ShadowClan territory.

Silverheart gasped at this sudden transformation. He was about to yowl in distress when he remembered that he was only dreaming.

“This is just a dream,” he reminded himself, taking deep breaths to steady his rapidly beating heart.

As if the scene before him wasn’t bad enough, thick storm clouds rolled in, covering the sky and sending a torrent of rain down. Silverheart was quickly soaked to the skin as he stood rooted to the spot gazing down at his beloved home.

“Terrible, isn’t it,” a sudden voice called from behind him.

Silverheart spun around to see the cat who had spoken. Standing in front of him was a flame-colored tom. His green eyes were full of sorrow, and he shook his head slowly.

“Wh-who are you?” Silverheart stuttered. “Are you from StarClan?”

The tom nodded. “I am Firestar, former leader of ThunderClan.”

Silverheart gasped. Firestar? Why would Firestar visit Silverheart in a dream? Surely if he had a message to convey, he would send it to Ivyfrost or Ravenstar.  

Silverheart lowered himself to the ground in submission to the strong, wise cat. “What does all of this mean?” he asked, his voice quivering.

“Keep watching,” Firestar instructed him, keeping his eyes on the sky above.

Silverheart peeled his gaze away from Firstar to look up at the sky. Angry black clouds churned above him.

Suddenly, a bright flash of blue and silver light split the sky.

Silverheart looked in the direction the flash had come from. His eyes followed the line that the flash had left in the dark mass of storm clouds. The line stopped at the top of the mountains that loomed over the wide stretch of territory that lay between them and WindClan territory.

The clouds began to dissipate as the line that the streak had left widened and spread over the sky, revealing the clear blue sky once again.

Confusion filled Silverheart’s thoughts. Did the storm clouds represent trouble for the Clans? If so, what was the blue and silver streak that had cleared the sky of the storm clouds? And why had it come from the mountains?

He turned his questioning gaze in Firestar, who was peering intently at him, his thoughts hidden behind a seemingly invisibly barrier.

“What does all of this mean?” Silverheart mewed, suddenly feeling very small.

“I cannot tell you the meaning of all that you have seen, you must figure it out yourself. But I can tell you this:” –Firestar paused before continuing—“ great storms await the Clans in the near future. It will be up to two cats to save them, but these two cats will not be alone. Another source will help, and StarClan will always be near to guide their pawsteps.”

“Wh-who are these two cats?” Silverheart asked, a bit hesitantly.

Firestar’s gaze seemed to penetrate his pelt. “I cannot give you all of the answers.”

Silverheart’s legs shook, and they almost gave out but he summoned all his inner strength to stay standing.

“What you have seen here should not be spoken to another cat. Keep these things to yourself,” Firestar ordered. He began to fade away.

“Wait!” Silverheart yelped. “When will all of this happen?”

Firestar continued to fade, but he answered, “The time is not yet. Be patient. Things will fall into place.”

Silverheart watched as the flame colored tom disappeared.

Hundreds of questions remained in his mind, swirling around in a confused whirlwind. His body shook again, and this time he felt a sharp paw prod his side.

“Silverheart, wake up.”

Chapter Nine

*

Silverheart opened his eyes to see his father, Darkpelt, standing over him.

“It’s time for your vigil,” he meowed, keeping his voice low so that he wouldn’t disturb the sleep of any of the others.

Silverheart blinked sleepily as he got to his paws. The memory of his dream clung to his thoughts like a persistent cobweb. He tried to shake it off as he followed Darkpelt out of the warriors’ den in silence.

The clearing was empty and dark. Sunpelt was already waiting in the center of the clearing. He padded up to his brother and sat down beside him. He knew that this night would be a long cold one, but his fur still fizzed with excitement. He was finally a warrior! He wasn’t going to let his bad dream dampen his spirits. Even if it was a sign from StarClan, hadn’t Firestar said to be patient, the time is not yet? Silverheart had nothing to worry about.

“Now remember, you two, there is to be no talking. You are in charge of guarding the Camp tonight while the rest of us sleep,” Darkpelt reminded them.

They both nodded. Darkpelt flicked his tail affectionately over their ears. Then he leaned closer and murmured, “Your mother would be so proud of you.”

Silverheart watched as Darkpelt slipped into the warriors’ den, warmed by his father’s compliment and the memory of his mother. He glanced up at the sky. The stars glittered palely above his head. He wondered which of the stars was his mother, Sweetfur. A cool breeze brushed his pelt, and Silverheart drew his paws closer to him and wrapped his tail more tightly around them.

Glancing at Sunpelt, he saw that his brother was most likely having the same thoughts as he was. He sat with his heat tilted up, looking at the sky. Sunpelt sighed, then turned his gaze to Silverheart. Silverheart blinked understandingly, then pressed his side comfortingly against Sunpelt’s.

He could feel his paws starting to grow numb as the night wore on. Periodically, he got up to stretch his legs and warm his cold paws. Although he was glad he hadn’t had his warrior ceremony in leaf-bare, he wished it could have been a warm green-leaf night instead of this cold leaf-fall one. At least he had Sunpelt. He would hate to be alone all night in the empty clearing.

Despite his best efforts to keep them away, thoughts of his dream stole into his mind. His heart grew heavy as he felt the weight of his Clan descending on his shoulders. Although he knew that his fate and that of his Clan were in the paws of StarClan, he couldn’t help feeling that something very grim was coming their way, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

* * *

When Bluepaw emerged from the apprentice den, dawn was just beginning to push back the darkness, touching the sky with it’s pale rays. She could see the dark form of Silverheart next to the lighter one of Sunpelt sitting in the center of the misty clearing. She shivered. It must have been cold for them, sitting vigil all night like that.

Darkpelt emerged from the warriors’ den followed by Mistyfur and Quickstep.

Quickstep immediately went to the nursery to check on his sleeping mate and kits, while Mistyfur padded over to Bluepaw.

“We’re going on the dawn patrol with Quickstep and Silverheart,” she told her.

Bluepaw stretched her front paws out and parted her jaws in an enormous yawn. “Okay, can I get something to eat first?”

Mistyfur shook her head. “We can do some hunting while we’re out, but the fresh-kill that’s on the pile right now is for the elders and Goldenrose.”

Bluepaw nodded. She figured that Mistyfur would say that, but there was no harm in asking just to be sure.

Darkpelt must have told Silverheart about the patrol, because he came over to join her and Mistyfur right after Darkpelt finished talking to him.

 “Ready to go?” Mistyfur meowed.

Silverheart nodded and tried to look enthusiastic, but Bluepaw noticed that his eyes had a faraway look in them even though he was looking at Mistyfur.

“What area are we patrolling?” Bluepaw asked. She desperately hoped they wouldn’t have to go near the old abandoned twoleg nest.

“The stream by WindClan’s border,” Mistyfur replied.

Bluepaw gave a relieved sigh.

Quickstep ducked out of the nursery, a gentle purr rumbling in his throat.

“How were the kits?” Mistyfur asked him.

“Oh, wonderful as always,” he answered brightly.

“Good.” Mistyfur turned to leave.

Quickstep followed her and remained close to her heel, but Bluepaw hung back to find out why Silverheart was acting so strangely.  

“Are you okay, Silverheart?” she meowed as soon as Quickstep and Mistyfur were somewhat out of earshot. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Silverheart glanced at her, but was unable to hold her gaze. He shrugged. “I guess I’m just tired from being awake all night.”

“Are you sure?”

Silverheart nodded, keeping his eyes focused on the ground in front of him.

Bluepaw narrowed her eyes. She could tell that something was wrong and Silverheart wasn’t telling her everything. Frustration welled up inside her.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she snapped. And before Silverheart could reply, she bounded forward to catch up to Mistyfur and Quickstep.

He must think he’s so much better than I am now that he’s a warrior. He’s just like Snowstorm and Flashfang.

“Is everything okay?” Mistyfur murmured as Bluepaw padded along beside her. Her eyes darted back to Silverheart.

“Of course,” Bluepaw replied. “Why would anything be wrong?”

Mistyfur just looked at her.

Bluepaw glanced over her shoulder at Silverheart. He was trailing behind the group, looking down at his paws as they made their way through the forest.

Compassion pricked her pelt as she saw how depressed he looked, but she quickly pushed it away. It’s his fault for not wanting to talk about it.

An awkward silence hung over the patrol. At last they arrived at the stream that marked the boundary between ThunderClan and WindClan territory.

“I’ll re-mark the border,” Quickstep meowed and quickly began reinforcing the scent markers.

Silverheart just slumped down to his haunches and stared at the ground.  

“What can you scent, Bluepaw?” Mistyfur prompted as they faced WindClan territory.

Bluepaw parted her jaws to draw the scents over her glands. “Well,” she meowed after a few heartbeats, “I think a patrol has gone by recently, but they sure didn’t come very close to the border. It’s very faint.”

Mistyfur gave a grunt of approval. “You’ve certainly learned a lot in the past few moons.” Mistyfur scented the air again. Suddenly, her neck fur bristled. “I smell something else.”

Bluepaw looked at her, confused. “What?”

“A fox,” she hissed. Anxiety flashed in her blue eyes.

Bluepaw felt a jolt of fear strike her. “Is it close?” she asked, desperately searching for its scent.

Mistyfur hesitated before replying. “No, I don’t think it is. But we should tell WindClan to look out for it when we see them at the Gathering tonight.

Bluepaw noticed that Silverheart perked up at the mention of the Gathering. This would be his first one as a warrior, and she imagined he was very excited about it.

Bluepaw remembered her first Gathering. It had been a half-moon after she had joined ThunderClan. She had been so excited that she barely slept a wink the night before it.

She looked at Silverheart again. He was looking at her, but quickly dropped his eyes when she met his gaze. Maybe Silverheart really was just tired. Bluepaw contemplated this for a moment, trying to convince herself that it really was the truth. But then she remembered how he wouldn’t look at her, and even now could not hold her gaze. Surely if he were just tired he wouldn’t be acting so weird about it.

“Well, let’s head back.” Quickstep’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Maybe we can catch some fresh-kill on the way back. I noticed the pile was getting low,” he suggested.

Bluepaw flexed her claws. Good, she thought, that’s just what I need to get my mind off Silverheart.

* * *

By the time the patrol arrived back at Camp, each of them had caught a fair amount of prey. Two mice dangled from Quickstep’s jaws, Silverheart carried a vole, and Mistyfur and Bluepaw each carried a squirrel.

As the four cats entered the Camp, they almost bumped into Ivyfrost who was just leaving.

“Oh good!” she meowed when she saw all the fresh-kill they had brought. “The elders and Goldenrose will certainly be glad of the extra prey.”

“I think I’ll give this to Goldenrose,” Bluepaw mewed, the squirrel muffling her voice. “It’s a nice plump one.”

“Yes, squirrels usually are plump during leaf-fall. They stock up on food to make it through leaf-bare,” Ivyfrost explained. “And as a matter of fact, that’s just what I’m doing. I was just about to see if I could find any herbs to add to my supply.”

“Do you need any help?” Mistyfur asked her.

“Well, now that you mention it, I could use an apprentice to help me carry the herbs,” she ventured. “What do you say, Bluepaw? Could you help me out?”

Bluepaw’s eyes lit up. “Sure! Let me bring this to Goldenrose, and then I’ll be right with you. I’ll get something to eat once we get back.”

Bluepaw was glad to help her. Ivyfrost didn’t have an apprentice of her own, so the other apprentices would often join Ivyfrost and help her carry herbs, sort them, or take care of elders’ ticks. Being out in the woods gathering the herbs was a lot more interesting than being stuck in the medicine den sorting herbs. Taking care of the elders’ ticks wasn’t so bad – Pinetail and Icepool always had an interesting story to tell – but gathering herbs was still her favorite way to help Ivyfrost.

In no time, Bluepaw had given the squirrel to Goldenrose, who had received it with a grateful purr, and was soon at Ivyfrost’s side.

“I think we’ll check by the lake first. I could use some more borage. Especially since Goldenrose has had her kits,” Ivyfrost meowed.

Bluepaw and Ivyfrost padded side by side through the forest and up the slope that led toward the lake. The dry leaves crackled under their paws, and the morning sunshine poked its way through the gaps in the trees where the leaves had almost all fallen.

“How was everything on the Dawn patrol?” Ivyfrost prompted.

Bluepaw shrugged. The last thing she wanted to think about was that. “It was alright. We scented a fox near WindClan territory.”

Ivyfrost’s eyes widened. “A fox?”

“Yeah, but it hadn’t come onto our territory. The scent was pretty faint,” Bluepaw assured her.

Ivyfrost seemed to relax. “Good. We’ve had enough trouble with foxes the past few seasons…”

Bluepaw thought about Ravenstar’s daughter, Lilystripe. Hadn’t Silverheart said she had been killed by a fox? That explained why Mistyfur and Ivyfrost were so nervous at the possibility of a fox. Bluepaw shivered. She hoped that there would be no trouble with foxes in the future.

 “So what exactly is borage good for?” Bluepaw asked. She wanted to learn as much as she could about everything so that she could be the best warrior that she could be.

“Well, it’s good for lots of things,” Ivyfrost began. “I use it for cats that have fevers. But it’s also good for helping queens’ milk to come. With leaf-bare coming, Goldenrose will need all the milk she can get to feed her kits. Otherwise they might not make it.” Seeing Bluepaw’s nervous look at the mention of the kits not making it, she quickly added, “But we won’t let that happen. That’s why we’re getting the borage.”

Bluepaw blinked. “Good. I’d hate for anything to happen to those kits. They’re so cute!”

Ivyfrost’s whiskers twitched. “They certainly are cute.”

The two cats crested the slope and carefully made their way down to the lake. Bluepaw nearly slipped when her paw fell into a small hole that had been covered by leaves. “Ouch!” she grumbled as she regained her footing. She had slightly twisted her paw, and kept it elevated for a few heartbeats.

“Are you okay?” Ivyfrost asked her, examining her hurt paw.

“I think so.” Bluepaw hesitantly touched her paw to the ground. It hurt a little at first, but she put her full weight on it and took a few steps forward. “Yes, I’m fine,” she decided.

Relief flashed in Ivyfrost’s eyes. “Good.”

Ivyfrost searched for the borage while Bluepaw watched.

“Here’s some,” Ivyfrost announced, motioning for Bluepaw to come over. Plucking a few of the leaves with her teeth, she wrapped them in a large leaf and set it down in front of Bluepaw. “You can carry that. I’ll see if I can find any catmint.”

“Okay,” Bluepaw meowed, picking up the leaf-wrap.

Ivyfrost scented the air and scanned the shore for any catmint shoots. Finally, she found what she was after and dug up a few of the shoots. “I think we have all we can carry now,” she told Bluepaw.

She led the way back to the top of the ridge, and the cats were soon on their way back. At the top of the ridge, Ivyfrost stopped and set the catmint down.

Puzzled, Bluepaw asked, “Why are we stopping?” She dropped the borage and gazed questioningly up at Ivyfrost, who was staring intently at Bluepaw.

Ivyfrost took a deep breath before replying. “Bluepaw, have you had any weird dreams recently?”

That seemed an odd question. Bluepaw shook her head. “No.”                 

Ivyfrost nodded. “Okay, but how about Silverheart? Has he said anything to you about having a strange dream or anything like that?”

“Well, no not exactly. But he was acting really weird this morning. It seemed like he was in a sort of daze, and he wouldn’t tell me anything about it,” Bluepaw confessed.

“When did he first start acting like this?” Ivyfrost asked.

“This morning.”

Ivyfrost nodded. “I think I’ll ask him about it when we get back.”

She bent down to pick up the catmint.

Bluepaw picked up the borage, confusion swirling in her mind. Why would Ivyfrost be so interested in whether or not she and Silverheart had had any weird dreams? And had Silverheart had a dream?

“Ivyfrost?” she finally asked, setting her herbs down once again.

“Yes?” Ivyfrost replied. Her voice was muffled by the catmint.

“Why do you want to know if either of us have had dreams?”

Ivyfrost’s face grew serious as she set down the catmint so she could answer clearly. “I don’t want to know if you’ve had just any kind of dream,” she explained. “If you had the kind of dream I’m talking about, you would know it.”

That only confused Bluepaw more. “What do you mean? What kind of dream?”

“Well, for example, a dream where a cat from StarClan visited you or something.”

“StarClan!” Bluepaw gasped. “They can visit cats in dreams?”

“Yes, but it’s usually to give medicine cats a message about danger ahead, or something like that.”

“Oh.” Bluepaw gazed into Ivyfrost’s one blue eye and one green eye. “If they usually visit medicine cats, then why would Silverheart or I have a dream about them? I’m just an apprentice, and Silverheart just became a warrior yesterday.”

Ivyfrost shuffled her paws. “I was just wondering. That’s all.”

Bluepaw could tell she was just avoiding the question, but she decided to let it go.

“Does Dewleaf ever visit you?” she asked, trying to change the subject to something that Ivyfrost might actually want to talk about.

Ivyfrost’s eyes filled with sadness at the mention of the old cat. He had passed away shortly after Bluepaw had joined ThunderClan, and she missed him. Ever since she was a medicine cat apprentice, Dewleaf had always occupied his little cave at the back of the medicine den.  

“Yes, as a matter of fact he has,” Ivyfrost replied.

Bluepaw’s pelt tingled. “What did he say?” she breathed.

 “The dreams of a medicine cat aren’t meant to be shared with just anyone. I only discuss them with Ravenstar and the other Clans’ medicine cats.”

Bluepaw’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, okay,” she picked up her herbs.

Ivyfrost gave her an affectionate lick on the ear. “Come on, let’s get back before Ravenstar sends out a patrol to come search for us,” she teased.

Bluepaw let out a mrrow of laughter, and the two cats headed down the slope.

Chapter Ten

*

Silverheart had just when Bluepaw and Ivyfrost returned, both of them carrying bundles of herbs. Mistyfur quickly bounded up to Bluepaw when she noticed her return.

“Are you up for some battle training right now?” Silverheart heard her meow. “Rustclaw, Eagleflight, and Patchear are already at the mossy clearing with their apprentices, and they wanted us, Rainpaw, and Bramblewhisker to join them.”

“Wow! A big training session!” Bluepaw mewed excitedly. Her neck fur fluffed up, and her eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Where’s Rainpaw?”

“Rainpaw and Bramblewhisker are on a border patrol, but they said they would come straight to the clearing when they were done,” Silverheart told her, padding up to the two cats.

“Thank you, Silverheart,” Bluepaw replied coolly, barely glancing at him.

Silverheart’s heart sank. She must be mad at me from earlier this morning, he thought.

“Well, I need to talk to Darkpelt quickly about the gathering tonight. I’ll be ready to leave soon, Bluepaw. You should get something to eat before we leave,” Mistyfur meowed, her gaze shifting to Silverheart as she left to talk to Darkpelt who was sitting under the Highledge with Ravenstar.

When Mistyfur was out of earshot, Silverheart whispered, “Look, Bluepaw. About this morning-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Bluepaw snapped, cutting him off. Her words pierced Silverheart’s pelt like tiny claws.

She turned her back on him and padded over to the fresh-kill pile. Silverheart waited until she had selected a plump vole and sat down to eat it before approaching her again.

“Would you please just listen?” Silverheart pleaded.

Bluepaw rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine…” she muttered, taking another large mouthful of her vole.

Silverheart took a deep breath. StarClan help me! “I had a dream yesterday before I started my vigil,” he meowed slowly.

Bluepaw’s ears shot forward and she sprang to her paws, her meal forgotten. “You did?” she asked, suddenly interested. “What happened in it? Did StarClan visit you?” the questions poured out of her like rain from a storm cloud.

Silverheart slapped his tail across her mouth. “Shh!” he hissed. “The whole Clan doesn’t have to know…” he muttered, amusement softening the remark.

“Well, what happened in it?” Bluepaw whispered sharply.

“That’s the thing,” Silverheart began. “I’m not allowed to tell anyone. The cat that visited me told me not to.”

Bluepaw’s eyes widened. “Was it a cat from StarClan?”

Silverheart nodded slowly.

“Wow…” she meowed in awe. “Ivyfrost just asked me if I had had any strange dreams recently.”

Silverheart’s ears pricked forward. “And have you?” he asked her.

Bluepaw shook her head. “No, but you definitely have. Wow, this is so cool.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Silverheart’s whiskers twitched. The old Bluepaw was back, he realized. And thank StarClan, too!

“Are you allowed to tell Ivyfrost what happened in it?” she whispered.

Silverheart thought for a few heartbeats before answering. He had wondered the same thing. He thought back to what Firestar’s exact words had been. “What you have seen here should not be spoken to another cat. Keep these things to yourself. Be patient. Things will fall into place.”

“I don’t know,” he answered slowly. “Not yet, I don’t think.”

“Ivyfrost asked me if I had had any weird dreams recently, and then when I said I hadn’t, she asked if you had.” Bluepaw’s words tumbled out in an excited rush. “And then I told her how weird you had been acting this morning, and she said she was going to talk to you once we got back.” Bluepaw stopped to catch her breath. “What are you going to say to Ivyfrost?” she asked in a low whisper.

“I’m not sure yet. But I’ll figure out something,” he assured her.

Bluepaw nodded. “You’d better.”

Silverheart dreaded having to lie to Ivyfrost, but he didn’t see any other way that he could keep his promise to Firestar.

Bluepaw was still staring at him with awe. “I wish you could tell me what happened in the dream. I’m dying to know! I won’t sleep a wink tonight!”

Suddenly, Bluepaw turned her head slightly and a ray of sunlight illuminated her face, making her eyes seem an even more striking blue. A jolt of surprise his Silverheart. Could it be..? No. He shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind.

“Bluepaw, are you ready to leave?” Mistyfur meowed, padding over to them.

“Yes! Almost.” She quickly scarfed down the last of her vole before bounding over to Mistyfur.

Mistyfur started out of the thorn tunnel with Bluepaw at her heels.

Before leaving, Bluepaw turned to Silverheart. “I’m sorry I was so snappy this morning,” she apologized.

“Don’t worry about it,” Silverheart meowed.

Bluepaw flicked her tail and was soon out the tunnel and racing to the mossy clearing with Mistyfur.

“Silverheart.” It was Ivyfrost’s voice.

Silverheart turned around to face the medicine cat, unease pricking his pelt. “Yes?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied, following her to the medicine den.

The dusty smell of dry herbs met his nostrils as they entered the shadowy den.

“How was your vigil last night?” It seemed an innocent question, but Silverheart sensed that there were more to come.

 He shrugged. “Cold, but it was fine.”

Ivyfrost nodded, surveying him carefully. “That’s good. Bluepaw seemed to think something was wrong with you this morning.”

Silverheart shifted uncomfortably. “I was a little tired, that’s all.”

Ivyfrost’s gaze locked with his for several heartbeats. As he stared into her one green eye and one blue eye, he could tell she didn’t believe him one bit.

“Silverheart, I understand if you can’t tell me what your dream was about yesterday,” she meowed. “But as the Clan’s medicine cat, it’s my duty to know what goes on in the Clan. If you find out anything important, I need to know. Do you understand?”

Silverheart nodded.

Ivyfrost sighed. “Okay. That’s all I have to say.”

Silverheart dipped his head respectfully and quickly left the medicine den.

 Out in the Camp, everything was relatively quiet. All the apprentices and their mentors were out of the Camp, which really made a big difference. Pinetail and Icepool were sunning themselves on the halfrock in front of their den, and the kits and their mother were napping in the nursery.

Snowstorm was curled up next to Flashfang, and the two were enjoying a nice relaxing lounge in the sun in front of the fallen beech tree that provided the shelter for both the warriors’ and the elders’ den. The weather would soon turn much colder, and it seemed everyone was trying to take advantage of the relative warmth while it lasted.

Smokewhisp and Quickstep were sharing tongues near the fresh-kill pile. Silverheart’s stomach rumbled as the scent of the fresh-kill wafted over to him. He padded over to it and quickly selected a large mouse.

“Come join us,” Smokewhisp called as Silverheart settled down to eat his mouse. 

His paws tingled with pleasure. It was an honor to be invited to eat with the senior warriors. He picked up his mouse and went to join them.

“Thank you,” he meowed.

The two warriors acknowledged him with a blink.

 “Do you think there’s something between those two?” Quickstep asked, nodding towards Snowstorm and Flashfang. “They’re always together, and Snowstorm never stops talking about him.”

“I think that Snowstorm likes Flashfang more than he likes her,” Silverheart commented dryly. “But I think Flashfang likes all the attention she gives him.”

Smokewhisp gave a small mrrow of laughter. “I think Mistyfur is glad that Flashfang finally realized that she will never like him in that way,” he added.

“Flashfang sure was padding after her quite a bit. Now that Eagleflight and Mistyfur are spending so much time together, I think he’s finally given up,” Quickstep agreed.

Smokewhisp nodded. “My daughter deserves a good mate like Eagleflight. I think they’re a perfect couple.”

Silverheart decided that now would be a good time to catch a quick nap. He wasn’t interested in idle gossip. Frankly, he didn’t care who mated with who. The way he saw it, as long as the Clan continued to have kits to continue the generations, it didn’t matter to him who it was that was doing the kitting. “I think I’ll get some sleep now,” he meowed, getting to his paws.

“Okay, good idea. You must be tired after being awake all night and then going on the dawn patrol this morning,” Quickstep meowed.

Silverheart padded over to the warrior den and found it empty. He curled up in his nest of moss and bracken and was soon asleep.

* * *

“Good, Bluepaw, but next time try and get around her a bit faster,” Mistyfur called across the clearing.

Bluepaw stood facing her opponent, Heatherpaw, with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. They were practicing combat moves, and she and Heatherpaw had been paired up. Although Heatherpaw was much younger than she was, they were about the same size.

This was Heatherpaw’s first day of battle training, and it was obvious she was enjoying it. She watched carefully when Eagleflight demonstrated a move to her, and tried to copy it with fierce intensity. Now they were practicing basic combat moves to try and get past an enemy.

“That was great, Bluepaw!” Heatherpaw congratulated her. Her tortoiseshell fur was fluffed up, and she gazed at Bluepaw with admiration in her eyes. 

“This time, Heatherpaw, I want you to run at Bluepaw. See if you can get past her,” Eagleflight instructed.

Bluepaw backed a few tail lengths away from Heatherpaw and crouched down. Heatherpaw crouched too, and swished her tail back and forth as she prepared to make her move. Her green eyes flitted past her to a root that protruded from the smooth, mossy ground, and Bluepaw knew that was where she would aim.

With lightning speed, Heatherpaw flashed forward and swerved just in front of Bluepaw, batting her paw, claws sheathed, across Bluepaw’s flank as she bolted. But Bluepaw was faster. She spun around and swiped Heatherpaw’s legs out from under her. Heatherpaw slammed to the ground with a grunt.

“That was a good try, Heatherpaw,” Eeagleflight meowed encouragingly. “Why don’t you have another go?”

“Okay,” Heatherpaw mewed, getting to her paws. She repositioned herself in front of Bluepaw. “This time I’ll be faster,” she promised.

Again, Heatherpaw’s eyes focused on the root behind Bluepaw. She darted forward, and Bluepaw prepared to do repeat her defense.

But just at the right moment, Heatherpaw swerved the other way. Bluepaw was unprepared for this sudden change, and clumsily tried to turn herself to strike at Heatherpaw again. She swiped her front paws out again, but Heatherpaw was too quick. In an instant she had darted past Bluepaw and sprung over the root.

“I did it!” she meowed triumphantly. Her green eyes sparkled with satisfaction at having been faster than the older apprentice.

“That was wonderful, Heatherpaw,” Eagleflight purred. “You’re really coming along.”

“Yeah, great job!” Bluepaw congratulated her. “That was a neat trick you pulled, swerving the other way like that.

Heatherpaw blinked. “I knew that if I didn’t, the same thing would have happened and I would have come crashing down to the ground again.”

She and Bluepaw shared a moment of laughter before focusing on their training again.

“Mistyfur,” Bramblewhisker called. He and Rainpaw, along with Pebblepaw and Patchear, were training on the other side of the clearing. “I think Bluepaw and Rainpaw should pair up for a while now. I want to work on some more advanced moves with Rainpaw. Heatherpaw can practice with Pebblepaw.”

Bluepaw looked at her mentor. Mistyfur gave a nod and Bluepaw raced across the clearing to Rainpaw. Pebblepaw and Patchear padded over to Eagleflight and Heatherpaw to continue training.

“Good, now I get to train with you,” Rainpaw greeted her friend.

“Rainpaw, I want you and Bluepaw to practice that move I taught you the other day,” Bramblewhisker meowed.

Rainpaw nodded and positioned herself in front of Bluepaw, her belly fur barely brushing the ground.

“Bluepaw, I want you to rear onto your hind legs when Rainpaw comes at you. Rainpaw, just do what we’ve practiced,” Bramblewhisker instructed.

“Right.” There was a mischievous gleam in Rainpaw’s blue eyes as she nodded.

Rainpaw darted forward and Bluepaw reared up on her hind legs like Bramblewhisker had told her to do. She prepared to bring her weight crashing down on Rainpaw as she tried to slip past, but before she could, Rainpaw had reached out with her front paws and knocked. Bluepaw felt her legs give away and she came crashing to the ground – but not on Rainpaw. She landed with a heavy thud.

“Keep going,” Bramblewhisker called.

“Bluepaw, defend yourself like this was a real battle, except remember to keep your claws sheathed,” Mistyfur added.

Rainpaw was hurtling toward her, but Bluepaw ducked her head, twisted around, and rolled over, dodging Rainpaw. She was on her paws again in an instant, and spun around to face Rainpaw again. Rainpaw was less than a tail-length away from Bluepaw’s face, so she didn’t have time to react to her attack. Rainpaw raked her forepaw over Bluepaw’s face. Bluepaw knew that if this had been a real battle, she would have felt tiny trickles of blood welling from scratches caused by Rainpaw’s needle-sharp claws. She needed to be more careful.

She threw herself at Rainpaw, but ended up skidding instead of running. The spot they were training in was also the end of the clearing with the most leaves on it, and Bluepaw had slipped on them. She slid forward and nearly fell to the ground, but caught herself just in time.

Rainpaw took advantage of Bluepaw’s unbalanced moment, and quickly hurled herself at Bluepaw again. But this time Bluepaw was ready. She ducked her head, knocking Rainpaw’s forelegs out from under her with her muzzle. Already low to the ground, Bluepaw easily rolled onto her side and thrust her hind legs in a powerful kick.

The kick connected with Rainpaw’s side, and she went skidding across the ground.

In less than a heartbeat, Bluepaw was back on her paws and lunging for Rainpaw. She leaped on Rainpaw, tackling her to the ground. Rainpaw squirmed under Bluepaw’s weight, and then went limp.

“You win,” she panted.

Bluepaw felt a stab of satisfaction, and started to get off of Rainpaw. Quick as a snake, Rainpaw twisted around so that she was lying on her back and quickly began pummeling Bluepaw’s soft belly with her hind paws.

“Hey,” Bluepaw protested. “You said--” she was cut off when one of Bluepaw’s kicks hit her in the muzzle.

Bluepaw scrambled off of the kicking Rainpaw and shook herself.

“Gotcha,” Rainpaw teased.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for now,” Bramblewhisker meowed.

“Yes, and well done, both of you,” Mistyfur added.

Bluepaw drew her paw over her ear to wipe off some moss that had clung to her fur. “That was really sneaky, Rainpaw.”

Rainpaw gave a little trill of laughter. “Thanks, you were great too.”

Bramblewhisker and Mistyfur padded over to the two apprentices.

“Bluepaw, when Rainpaw first charged at you and you were reared up on your hind legs, did you notice what she did?” Mistyfur asked.

Bluepaw snorted. “Of course I noticed. She hit my legs and I fell.” She shot Rainpaw a glance of mock anger, and Rainpaw responded with a flick of her tail, laughter dancing in her blue eyes.

Mistyfur nodded. “That’s what will happen when you do that. So your job is to learn to be quicker than your opponent. React before she has a chance to defend.”

“Right, can we try that again, Rainpaw?” Bluepaw asked hopefully.

Rainpaw opened her mouth to reply, but Bramblewhisker broke in, “I think we’ve done enough for today.”

“Yes, enough is enough,” Mistyfur agreed.

“Rustclaw,” Bramblewhisker called.

Rustclaw was practicing some basic defense moves with his apprentice, Goldpaw, a few tail-lengths from where Bluepaw and Rainpaw had had their mock battle. He quickly completed the move he had been demonstrating before padding over to Bramblewhisker with a bright-eyed Goldpaw at his heels.

“Yes?” It was obvious that Rustclaw and Goldpaw already had a great relationship as mentor and apprentice. Goldpaw was hardly far from his side, and kept gazing at him in awe as if he were still in shock that such a brave and powerful warrior had been chosen as his mentor.

“I think we should head back now. It will be time to leave for the Gathering soon,” Bramblewhisker meowed.

Rustclaw glanced up at the sky. “The time must have gotten away from me. It feels like we just got here,” he replied. “Goldpaw, run and get your sisters and their mentors, please.” He gave the golden tabby apprentice a gentle shove with is muzzle.

“Okay,” Goldpaw mewed, hurrying to the other side of the clearing where Pebblepaw and Heatherpaw were training.

“Your apprentice is certainly showing promise, Rustclaw,” Bramblewhisker meowed, nodding towards Goldpaw.

“Thank you. He’s got a lot of talent. I think he’ll be easy to train. And your apprentices are both doing well too. You will both make fine warriors,” he meowed, gazing down at the two younger cats.

Bluepaw couldn’t help but notice a tiny glimmer of doubt in Bramblewhisker’s eyes when they met hers. Did Bramblewhisker think she wouldn’t be as good because she had started out as a kittypet? But she didn’t have time to wonder, because just then Goldpaw came bounding up, a few tail-lengths ahead of the others.

“Ready!” he meowed. “Can I lead the way? I want to see if I can remember the way.”

Rustclaw glanced at Bramblewhisker who nodded slightly. “Sure, I think that’s a great idea.”

Goldpaw’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected to be allowed to. “Wow, thanks,” he breathed.

He led the way into the woods with his sisters at his side. Bluepaw and Rainpaw walked side by side just behind Rustclaw who was keeping close to the excited Goldpaw. She could hear his excited mews as he and his sisters chattered excitedly.

“ShadowClan is going to be amazed when they hear how many new apprentices we have,” Pebblepaw mewed.

“Yeah, and how strong we look too. I bet they’ll be shivering in their cowardly pelts when they realize what great warriors we’ll grow up to be,” Goldpaw crowed.

“Goldpaw, you should show more respect for the other Clans,” Rustclaw reminded him. “And besides, Ravenstar might not let you three go to the Gathering tonight. We need someone to stay behind and guard the Camp.”

“I know, but still. It’s fun to think about,” Goldpaw meowed.

“Well I for one don’t want to set paw near any ShadowClan warriors,” Heatherpaw meowed, giving a little shiver.

Rainpaw and Bluepaw shared an amused glance.

“Remember how we were when we got to go to our first Gathering?” Rainpaw whispered.

Bluepaw nodded. How could she forget? “I remember we were both so scared that we thought about convincing Ivyfrost we were too sick to go.”

Rainpaw let out a soft mrrow of laughter. “Yes, but then I guess our curiosity got the better of us. And I’m glad, too.”

“Ah, yes. Because if we hadn’t gone, you would have never fallen into the lake and been saved by that handsome RiverClan warrior,” Bluepaw teased, flicking her tail over her friend’s ear.

“I wasn’t even thinking of that,” Rainpaw protested, shoving Bluepaw lightly with her shoulder.

Bluepaw’s whiskers twitched. “I know, I just couldn’t resist.”

“What I mean was that it was so fun, I’m glad we went.”

Bluepaw nodded. “It was really neat to meet all those different cats from all the Clans.”

“Do you think Ravenstar will let you go this time, Bluepaw?” Rainpaw asked. She knew that she was going to be allowed to go because Ravenstar had said that she wanted all of the cats who had discovered the stolen prey to come to the Gathering.

Bluepaw shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been to every other Gathering since I got here, so probably not. I have to miss one sometime.”

“Well, if you don’t get to go, I’ll be sure and tell you all about it,” Rainpaw promised. She paused before adding, “But I’m sure Silverheart will tell you about it too.”

Bluepaw’s eyes darted to Rainpaw’s face, but she could see that Rainpaw had meant it as a harmless remark. She didn’t want anyone to think that she liked Silverheart in that way. He was just a good friend. Wasn’t he?

Bluepaw almost bumped into Rustclaw’s hind legs as he came to a sudden stop.

“What is it, Goldpaw?” he asked his apprentice.

Goldpaw was stopped, and he was looking around as if he were a bit confused. “I- I’m not quite sure which way we go now,” he confessed a bit sheepishly.

“That’s quite alright,” Rustclaw meowed. “I’ll lead the way from here.”

“Okay.” Goldpaw’s tail drooped as he stood aside to let Rustclaw take the lead.

“Hey, cheer up, Goldpaw,” Heatherpaw meowed, giving him a gentle nudge with her muzzle. “I didn’t know which way to go next either.”

“Yeah, me too,” Pebblepaw added. “I would have gotten us all lost if I had been leading the way.”

Goldpaw seemed to brighten up at the kind remarks from his sisters.

The rest of the way back was spent in a comfortable silence. Bluepaw relished the feeling of companionship that she felt with all of her clanmates. She couldn’t imagine being stuck in her Twoleg’s nest without any other cats to talk to.

The leaves crunched under their paws, and the setting sun cast a few last warm rays on their backs as they trudged through the forest.

Bluepaw thought back to Silverheart and his dream. I wonder what he saw in his dream…

Chapter Eleven

*

“Ready to go?”

Silverheart shook himself from his thoughts at Darkpelt’s question.

“Yes, I’m ready,” he replied. He tried to look excited, but although he couldn’t wait for the other Clans to hear that he was now a warrior, his spirits were dampened by recurring thoughts of his dream.

“Then let’s go. Everyone else is already waiting by the thorn tunnel,” Darkpelt meowed, gently shoving Silverheart to his paws.

Silverheart followed him to the thorn tunnel where the others were waiting. 

Once Ravenstar had checked to see that all the assigned cats were ready to go, she padded to the front of the group, gave a sharp nod, and bounded away through the tunnel.

Silverheart noticed the Snowstorm tried to keep pace with Flashfang as they went along. Her white pelt brushed his black one as they raced through the moonlit forest.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Sunpelt meowed, running alongside Silverheart as they followed Ravenstar through the woods. “Our first Gathering as warriors.”

“And mine as an apprentice!” Goldpaw broke in with an excited mew.

Silverheart’s mood brightened at the excitement of his brother and Goldpaw, and his paw seemed to fly even faster over the leafy ground.

“It’s too bad that your sisters couldn’t come too, Goldpaw,” Rainpaw meowed from behind.

“Not every apprentice can come to every Gathering,” Silverheart reminded her.

“And they’ve only been apprentices since yesterday,” Sunpelt added.

A playful purr escaped Rainpaw as she meowed, “Well, you and Silverheart have only been warriors for one day. I suppose that means that only one of you should be allowed to come too.”

Sunpelt purred. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Rainpaw blinked understandingly. “I know, but I do feel bad for Heatherpaw and Pebblepaw. If my littermate were allowed to go to a Gathering before me, I would be pretty disappointed too.”

“I’ll be sure and tell them all about it,” Goldpaw promised. “That way they can at least feel like they got to be there.”

Moonlight bathed Silverheart’s pelt as he raced past Sky Oak and down to the lake. The sound of pebbles clattering beneath paws filled Silverheart’s ears as he gazed across the shining lake. The full moon shone brightly overhead, and not a single cloud threatened to end this Gathering early.

Soon, Silverheart could see the Twoleg bridge that spanned the distance between the lakeshore and the island. The scent of WindClan grew stronger as they began the long trek through WindClan territory, keeping within five tail-lengths of the lake as agreed to by all the other Clans. The horseplace loomed to their left, and was lit up by many artificial twoleg lights that sent white light down onto the surrounding ground. Silverheart’s lip curled in disgust. An ugly sight like that made him very glad to live in the forest as a ThunderClan cat rather than out on the open prairie as a WindClan cat, having to face that awful horseplace every day.

Soon, the group passed into RiverClan territory, and the ground became muddier underpaw. As they neared the island, the scent of ShadowClan was sharply noticeable – obviously Oakstar had not wanted his Clan to be late to this Gathering.

“I’m amazed that Oakstar’s even brave enough to show his face tonight after what his Clan did on our borders yesterday,” Rainpaw hissed into Silverheart’s ear as the bounded to the bridge. “ShadowClan is obviously looking for a fight with us.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Silverheart cautioned. “Maybe Oakstar wasn’t part of what happened. For all we know, he could be completely oblivious to the whole thing.”

Rainpaw looked doubtful, but said nothing more as they crossed the bridge.

“Wow,” Goldpaw meowed. “I never thought I would set paw on something that a Twoleg ever built.”

His mentor, Rustclaw, padded to his side. “When I was an apprentice, we always used a fallen tree to get to the island. Then those stupid twolegs got rid of it and replaced it with this horrible bridge. I think they were worried that their kits would try and cross on the tree, and then get hurt or fall into the lake.”

“I rather like the bridge,” Hazeltail meowed from behind him. “It’s a lot easier than crossing that rotting tree was,” she pointed out.

“True, but I still wish Twolegs wouldn’t go sticking their noses in places where they didn’t belong. Now the island smells like Twolegs all the time, and they always litter their trash all over it,” Rustclaw argued.

“But at least Twolegs never come onto the island at night. We’ve never had our Gathering disturbed before,” Bramblewhisker meowed. He was padding next to his mate, and their pelts brushed softly. This was the first Gathering they had attended together since their kits had been born six moons earlier.

Once all of the ThunderClan cats had reached the shore, Ravenstar once again led the way. Before following Ravenstar, Hazeltail paused to inspect Goldpaw before his very first appearance in front of all the Clans. She gave a few hasty licks to his forehead.

Goldpaw tried to duck away. “I’m not a kit anymore,” he protested.

Hazeltail purred softly. “True, but you’ll always be my kit.”

Silverheart felt a pang of sorrow at the display of affection between Hazeltail and her kit. It was times like this that he felt the absence of his mother very sharply. He wondered if she would be as proud of him and Sunpelt as Hazeltail was of Goldpaw and her other kits.

Silverheart made his way to the front of the group to be next to his father.

“Are you excited, Silverheart?” Darkpelt asked, his green eyes shining with pride as he gazed at his son.

Silverheart nodded, his spirits lifting. He might not have a mother, but he still had an affectionate father. And for that, he was grateful. 

In the clearing, they were met by ShadowClan and RiverClan. WindClan hadn’t yet arrived. Ravenstar leapt up onto the great oak to take her place in between Oakstar of ShadowClan, and Reedstar of RiverClan.

Reedstar was a very old tortoiseshell she-cat, and she was looking even more frail as she perched next to Ravenstar.

Oakstar’s lithe tabby pelt shone in the moonlight, and his bright yellow eyes surveyed the clearing with evident hostility. He was looking even more mean tonight, and Silverheart guessed that there would be trouble once Ravenstar mentioned the prey-stealing.

He weaved through the other cats and sat down beneath the Great Oak next to Sunpelt and Rainpaw.

Scanning the crowd, Silverheart noticed that the ShadowClan cats were all looking a bit under-fed. Their pelts were ragged and clung to thin, bony frames, but their eyes betrayed no sign of weakness, flashing indignantly as they sat waiting for the meeting to begin. Ashfang, ShadowClan’s deputy, sat beneath the Great Oak, his pale yellow eyes pinpoints of light against his dark gray pelt.

“Hey Silverpaw,” a voice came from behind.

Silverheart turned to see Dovepaw, a RiverClan apprentice. Dovepaw’s sleek pelt showed that RiverClan was certainly eating as well as ever.

“It’s Silverheart now,” he told Dovepaw proudly.

“Oh, congratulations on getting your warrior name!”

“Thank you. When do you think you’ll get yours?”

Dovepaw shrugged his gray and white shoulders. “Probably sometime during this next moon. Hopefully before the next Gathering!”

Just then, WindClan arrived. The slender cats weaved themselves in among the other Clans, and Brackenstar made his way to the Great Oak.

“The Gathering will now commence,” Reedstar’s voice quivered as she meowed the formal call for the meeting to start. “We meet beneath Silverpelt—“

“Oh, I’d better get back to my mentor.” Dovepaw dashed away as Reedstar finished the formal opening.

Silverheart’s attention was now riveted to the leaders speaking from the Great Oak.

“RiverClan has a new litter of kits this moon, born to Tawnystorm,” Reedstar announced. “And Clovernose has received her warrior name.”

“Clovernose, Clovernose!” The calls of her Clanmates rang through the air, and Clovernose, a small brown tabby she-cat, looked shyly around as the other Clans joined in as well.

Reedstar’s strength was now almost entirely spent. “Other than that, RiverClan has nothing to report.” She turned to Brackenstar and nodded for him to speak next.

The sturdy gray tom spoke commandingly from the Great Oak, and his voice sounded much louder and more powerful compared to Reedstar’s. “WindClan is doing well. The prey is running well, considering how close to leaf-bare it is, and our medicine cat has been able to find plenty of supplies to stock up on before leaf-bare is upon us,” as he spoke, Silverheart noticed that Mintleaf, the WindClan medicine cat, shuffled his paws at the mention of his being able to find plenty of supplies. Silverheart guessed that what the leader had said was a bit of an exaggeration, but Mintleaf wasn’t about to make WindClan appear weak by admitting it. Ivyfrost, sitting next to him, whispered something in his ear that Silverheart couldn’t hear.

 “Also, Longwhisker has decided to join the Elders. WindClan honors her for her loyal service to her Clan,” Brackenstar added.

“Longwhisker, Longwhisker!” the Clans called. Longwhisker was known for being a level-headed warrior, and was very popular among the Clans. Neither Pinetail or Icepool had come to the Gathering, but Silverheart guessed that they would have raised their voices just as loudly as the other elders in the crowd.

Brackenstar gave a curt nod to show that he was finished.

Finally! It was Ravenstar’s turn to speak.

“StarClan has been very kind to us this moon. We have been blessed with having two new warriors and three” – she lingered over the word – “new apprentices.” She seemed to especially aim the report at ShadowClan, pointing out that ThunderClan was now even stronger.

Anxiety knotted up in Silverheart’s stomach as the moment he had been waiting for finally arrived.

“Goldpaw,” Ravenstar’s gaze flitted to the golden apprentice, who seemed ready to burst with pride as the Clans called out his new name.

“His sisters, Heatherpaw and Pebblepaw, were unable to come tonight,” Ravenstar explained once the cheering had died down. “Our new warriors are Silverheart and Sunpelt.”

Cries of “Silverheart! Sunpelt!” filled the clearing, and seemed to warm Silverheart against the chilly night air. Dovepaw called loudly along with his Clanmates.

The loudest cheers came from ThunderClan’s own cats, and Silverheart couldn’t help but notice that ShadowClan seemed to barely join in. Instead, they sent scathing glances at the ThunderClan cats, and remained silent, their ears turned towards Oakstar. Oakstar still had the same look of contempt as he half-heartedly congratulated the new warriors.

Ravenstar waited for the calls to once again die down before continuing, “A matter of alarm was brought to my attention yesterday when a border patrol found stolen ThunderClan prey near ShadowClan’s border by the Twoleg path,” she meowed, staring levelly at Oakstar. “ShadowClan’s scent was strong on the prey.”

Murmurs of disapproval broke out among RiverClan and WindClan as they cast anxious glances around them. Stealing prey, especially this close to leaf-bare, was a very serious offense, and to have done it so openly and without any attempt at disguise was an open sign of hostility.

Oakstar’s eyes flashed haughtily at Ravenstar as she waited for his reply. “ShadowClan is in need of more territory, and ThunderClan has more than they truly need,” he meowed sharlpy.

“He’s just trying to make an excuse,” Sunpelt whispered into Silverheart’s ear.

Silverheart nodded in agreement.

Ravenstar’s voice rose angrily. “So instead of coming to me, you act like cowards and steal our prey?”

Oakstar was fuming. “I knew that there would be no reasoning with you, Ravenstar. If I had been a kittypet” – he spat the word out with scorn –“then maybe I would have come to you. You seem to have taken a great liking to them lately.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, and his eyes glittered, daring Ravenstar to retort.

“What ThunderClan does in regard to kittypets is none of your concern,” she snapped, her yellow eyes flashing indignantly.

Tension hung over all of the Clans as Ravenstar and Oakstar stared into each other’s eyes. Neither one was going to be able to come to any logical solution tonight. They were both too riled up for that. Silverheart could sense that this Gathering would not end very happily.

“Remember the truce!” a cat from one of the Clans called out. Silverheart looked for who had made the comment, but it was impossible to tell in the sea of faces.

“ThunderClan will not give up any of its territory, but if you wish to discuss something with me, I suggest you come to me yourself instead of stealing prey to make a point.” Ravenstar glared at Oakstar. “ThunderClan is ready to defend our territory with teeth and claws, if necessary.”

A murmur of approval rippled among the ThunderClan cats, and they glared at the ShadowClan cats as if to reinforce Ravenstar’s warning.

“ShadowClan is doing well, and we have nothing to report,” Oakstar quickly meowed, impatient for the Gathering to end.

“But what about me?” a small, white ShadowClan cat called. Her bright white pelt stood out against her darker Clanmates. Silverheart guessed she was the daughter of Frostwind, a white ShadowClan warrior.

“Oh yes, we have one new apprentice. Cloudpaw,” Oakstar added hastily.

The cheering that congratulated Cloudpaw was substantially less enthusiastic than the previous cheers had been. Tension hung over all four Clans as they waited for the Gathering to finally end.

“Well, since nobody has anything else to report, we may as well end the Gathering,” Brackenstar meowed, hopping down from the Great Oak.

Reedstar slowly made her way down to the ground where a thick-furred brown she-cat waited to help steady her.

“Thank you, Sparrowsong,” she meowed tiredly.

Sparrowsong was the RiverClan deputy, and it was evident that soon she would be leader.

“Reedstar is on her last life, isn’t she?” Rainpaw asked Sunpelt.

“I think so. Or if she’s not, then she soon will be,” Sunpelt replied. “Look at how frail she is tonight!”

“Perhaps Sparrowstar will address us at the next Gathering,” Silverheart ventured.

A RiverClan cat, overhearing the remark, quickly snapped, “RiverClan is just as strong as ever!” Her meow was edged with a low, warning growl.

Silverheart recognized her as Autumncry, Sparrowsong’s sister.

When Autumncry was out of earshot, Rainpaw whispered, “I bet she’s hoping to be made the next deputy.”

“She would make a good deputy,” Darkpelt interjected, joining the younger cats. “But I think that Sparrowsong would choose someone like Badgertooth or Ripplepelt to be deputy. You know, someone who would be more intimidating.”

“I think Autumncry is pretty intimidating,” Rainpaw remarked, her blue eyes wide. “She looked as if she was going to bite my head off just then.”

Silverheart and the others let out a mrrow of laughter. Rainpaw always knew how to make them all laugh.

As the Clan made its way back to ThunderClan territory, Rainpaw let out a small sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Sunpelt asked.

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about ShadowClan. I hope things don’t get ugly with them…” she meowed.

“I have a feeling you’re going to be very disappointed, Rainpaw. The way Oakstar looked, things are going to be very ugly indeed,” Silverheart remarked.

“How did you enjoy your first Gathering, Goldpaw?” Rainpaw asked as the apprentice came bounding up to them.

“It was great!” he meowed enthusiastically, his yellow eyes glittering with excitement. “Well, of course until the whole argument with ShadowClan broke out…”

“All Gatherings have their good points and bad points,” Sunpelt pointed out.

Silverheart couldn’t help adding silently, Yes, but not usually as bas as this one…

“I’m sure going to have a lot to tell Bluepaw!” Rainpaw mewed.

The excitement of his first Gathering as a warrior mixed with the stress of Ravenstar’s confrontation with Oakstar had drained Silverheart’s energy. As thoughts of ShadowClan jumbled around in his head, he couldn’t wait to get back to his nest and curl up. He could only hope that this time his sleep would be more peaceful.

Chapter Twelve

❦

 “I smell ShadowClan!” Heatherpaw’s fearful mew came from the front of the border patrol.

It had been several sunrises since the Gathering, and Darkpelt always made sure that several border patrols were sent to the edge of ShadowClan territory each day.

Eagleflight bounded to his apprentice’s side and scented the air. “Don’t worry, Heatherpaw. It’s not too close. ShadowClan is keeping to their side of the border so far.”

“I’m surprised that there hasn’t been any confrontation with them yet,” Silverheart meowed.

“I couldn’t believe what Rainpaw told me about how awful Oakstar acted,” Bluepaw added, coming to stand beside Silverheart. “Do you think they’ll try anything soon?” Her blue eyes were wide with fear as she looked up at Silverheart.

Silverheart shrugged. “With ShadowClan, who knows…?”

Bluepaw tried to shake the feelings of uncertainty that clung to her every time she ventured near the ShadowClan border with a patrol. If there ever was a fight with ShadowClan, she certainly didn’t want to be part of it.

“Well, I think we can head back,” Mistyfur meowed.

Eagleflight nodded his agreement. “I think so too. Everything seems fine here.”

As the patrol turned to leave, Silverheart suddenly stiffened. His ears were pricked in the direction of the border.

Bluepaw followed his gaze to a large clump of bracken. “What?” she whispered.

Silverheart waited a few heartbeats before replying. “I thought I saw something…” His eyes flitted back and forth. “But I guess it was nothing.”

“We’re all on edge since the Gathering,” Mistyfur acknowledged, laying her tail gently across Silverheart’s shoulders.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” Eagleflight added.

Silverheart looked uncertain, but didn’t say anything. He just cast anxious glances over his shoulder from time to time as the patrol padded away.

“I can’t help feeling that any moment a patrol of ShadowClan warriors is going to come crashing onto our side of the border and sink their teeth into our backs,” he told Bluepaw.

Bluepaw nodded. “Me too. Being around here gives me the creeps now…” She shivered.

“While we’re here, I think we should check on the old abandoned Twoleg nest,” Mistyfur suggested. “Just to make sure that the Twolegs haven’t done anything more since Smokewhisp spotted them there.”

Eagleflight fell into step beside Mistyfur as she led the patrol onward.

“Isn’t the Twoleg nest a bit out of our way?” Bluepaw whispered to Silverheart.

He nodded, amusement flickering behind his yellow eyes. “I think Mistyfur is looking for an excuse to spend a little extra time with Eagleflight. It’s not often that Darkpelt assigns them to the same patrols.”

Bluepaw purred quietly.

“Eagleflight, can we do some hunting while we’re out?” Heatherpaw asked hopefully. Heatherpaw loved hunting, and was actually very good at it considering how long she had been an apprentice.

“I don’t see why not,” Eagleflight responded. “But let’s wait until we get to the Twoleg nest.”

“Okay.” Heatherpaw bounded ahead of the group.

“Heatherpaw!” Eagleflight called out sharply. “What have I told you about blundering through the forest like that?”

Heatherpaw skidded to a stop and turned to look at her mentor. Her ears and tail drooped, and she looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“That’s alright, but from now on, I think you should stay behind me.”

Heatherpaw stood and waited for Eagleflight and Mistyfur to pass her before she continued walking.

Bluepaw caught up to her and laid her tail across her shoulders. “We’ve all made mistakes like that, Heatherpaw,” she consoled the young apprentice. She glanced behind her shoulder at Silverheart, pleading silently with him to say something to Heatherpaw too.

But Silverheart was looking at the ground and missed Bluepaw’s look. She shook her head lightly. Toms.

“But whenever I disappoint Eagleflight, I feel like I’m letting all of ThunderClan down,” Heatherpaw mewed quietly.

Bluepaw nudged Heatherpaw’s shoulder with hers. “Aww, Heatherpaw, don’t feel like that. Eagleflight’s just kind of distracted right now. He’s not really mad at you.”

“You think so?” Heatherpaw’s green eyes lit up hopefully.

“I know so,” Bluepaw assured her. “Plus, he’s just worried about your safety. Since we’re on such bad terms with ShadowClan right now, he’s probably extra concerned.”

“I never thought of it like that,” Heatherpaw meowed slowly. “Thanks, Bluepaw.”

Bluepaw gazed warmly down at Heatherpaw. It felt good to comfort another cat. She wondered if that was what it felt like to be a mother. What would it be like when she had kits of her own to comfort, not just friends? She didn’t know, but she guessed it would be even more enjoyable. A thrill of excitement shot through her, even though she knew that she wouldn’t have kits for a long, long time yet. For now, she was content to try and cheer up her friends whenever she could.

Soon, the Twoleg nest came into view. The sight that met the eyes of the five cats as they neared the place was enough to make Mistyfur let out a small gasp of surprise.

“What in the name of StarClan…?” Eagleflight muttered, gazing around with wide eyes.

Heatherpaw crouched down, her ears flat against her head.

On all of the trees surrounding the Twoleg nest, large, orange X’s had been painted. They glared down at the patrol, marring the beautiful leaf-fall scenery.

“Did Twolegs do this?” Heatherpaw asked, her mew coming out as a high-pitched whisper.

“Nothing else could have,” Mistyfur replied. “The only real question is why did the Twolegs do this?”

Eagleflight approached one of the marked trees and got onto his hind legs to investigate it. He gave it a careful sniff and batted it with one of his front paws.

“Well, it certainly smells strange, but I don’t think it’s harmful,” Eagleflight told them. He licked the paw that had touched the mark. “And none of it stuck to my paw.”

“Well, I guess they’re nothing to be afraid of, but that still doesn’t tell us why they are there,” Mistyfur meowed.

“Maybe it’s just one of those weird things that Twolegs do. They are strange,” Silverheart ventured with little conviction.

“Bluepaw,” Mistyfur meowed. “You’ve lived with Twolegs. Have you ever seen anything like this before?”

Bluepaw squinted up at the orange marks, trying to remember. Even though it hadn’t been long since she was a kittypet, that life seemed very far in the past, and it was getting harder and harder to remember specific details about it.

“Well,” she slowly answered, “I do remember my housefolk changing the color of their walls one time. The stuff they used smelled a lot like the stuff that’s on the trees.”

“Why on earth would they want to change the color of their walls?” Heatherpaw asked. Her face was screwed up with disgust.

Bluepaw shrugged. “Why do Twolegs do anything?”

Heatherpaw shook her head. “Weird…” she muttered.

“But it doesn’t make sense. Why would Twolegs care what color the trees are? They hardly ever come here, so why would it matter?” Silverheart pointed out.

“Unless they plan to come here more often…” Eagleflight meowed darkly.

Bluepaw shivered. Was her life with the Clan, far away from the influences of Twolegs, to be disturbed by a Twoleg invasion?

Silverheart seemed the most affected by Eagleflight’s suggestion. His eyes widened, and he seemed rooted to the spot, his eyes staring off at some unseen object, and his legs stiff with fear.

“Silverheart, are you okay?” Bluepaw asked.

He didn’t respond, so she nudged him with her forehead.

“Silverheart!”

Bluepaw’s nudge shook him out of his daze. “Huh? Wha-?” he murmured, his eyes still wide. He shook his head to bring them back into focus.

Everyone was staring at him. He glanced at their faces, then down at his paws.

“Silverheart, are you okay?” Bluepaw repeated with an uncertain gaze. Her thoughts instantly jumped back to what he had said about his dream. Maybe something from it was troubling him again. Could it have been the marks on the trees? That seemed to be the only thing it could have been, though Bluepaw didn’t know why that would concern him so much.

“I’m fine,” he meowed curtly. “Just fine.”

Eagleflight looked doubtful. “Are you sure- ”

“I said I’m fine,” Silverheart cut him off curtly.

Mistyfur narrowed her eyes. Obviously she wasn’t convinced. But she didn’t want to push Silverheart. “Well, we’d better report this to Ravenstar,” she meowed, motioning for them to follow her back to Camp.

Bluepaw padded behind Mistyfur, knowing that trying to talk to Silverheart would be pointless. He had said that he couldn’t say anything to her about what he had seen in his dream, so she wouldn’t push it.

After a little while, Mistyfur paused. “Bluepaw, I think you should lead us back to Camp,” she meowed.

Bluepaw felt a jolt of surprise. “Uh, okay,” she replied, padding to the front of the patrol.

“This will be good practice for when you’re a warrior leading an actual patrol,” Mistyfur pointed out. “I remember how weird it seemed the first time I led a patrol. I was so used to just following the cat in front of me that I almost got us lost.”

Eagleflight let out a mrrow of laughter. “I remember hearing about that.”

Bluepaw was confident that she could remember the way back. The territory was becoming familiar to her, and as they passed a certain clump of bracken, or a rotting tree stump, she knew that there was no danger of her losing her way.

In no time, the group arrived at the Camp. Bluepaw pushed her way through the thorn tunnel. It was sunhigh, and the Camp was filled with cats sharing tongues.

Hazeltail and Bramblewhisker sat in front of the warriors’ den with their tails twined, grooming each other’s pelts.

Rainpaw was in front of the nursery playing with Goldenrose’s kits. They were now one moon old, and were venturing further and further from the nursery every day.

“We forgot to hunt!” Heatherpaw gasped as she stared at the fresh-kill pile.

“That’s okay. We weren’t on a hunting patrol. And anyway, we needed to get back to report to Ravenstar,” Eagleflight meowed.

He and Mistyfur hurried over to Ravenstar, who was sitting at the front edge of her den with Rustclaw.

“You can get something to eat,” Mistyfur called over her shoulder to the two apprentices.

At the fresh-kill pile, Bluepaw selected a plump mouse and settled down next to Heatherpaw to eat it.

Silverheart hesitated in front of the pile.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Bluepaw asked around mouthfuls of her mouse.

Silverheart shook his head. “Not really. I think I’ll just go take a nap.”

Bluepaw’s gaze followed him as he padded slowly to the warriors’ den.

“I wonder what’s gotten into him…” Heatherpaw muttered once he had disappeared into the den.

Bluepaw didn’t reply, but she thought she knew the answer: his dream.

She gulped down the last morsel of her mouse, then went to join Rainpaw.

“Get her, Amberkit!” she heard Robinkit squeak.

Rainpaw was on her back, and Amberkit was perched on her stomach, “pinning” her to the ground.

“I told you! I’m not Amberkit right now, I’m Amberstep!” Amberkit mewed indignantly to his sister.

“Oh, sorry Amberstep.”  

“This ShadowClan warrior won’t get into the nursery now,” Amberkit boasted with a triumphant gleam in his amber eyes.

“Oh please,” Rainpaw panted with pretend exhaustion, “please let me go. I promise I won’t ever set paw on ThunderClan’s territory again.”

“That’s up for the leader to decide. Robinstar,” he mewed, “what should we do?”

Robinkit could barely speak without bursting into laughter at being called “Robinstar” but she managed to meow: “Let her go, Amberstep. ThunderClan has no need to shed another cat’s blood.”

Amberkit hopped off Rainpaw, who got to her paws, her legs trembling.

“Thank you,” Rainpaw meowed, pretending to be afraid.

“I don’t ever want to catch you on ThunderClan territory again!” Amberkit snapped, baring his tiny teeth.

“Oh, you won’t,” Rainpaw mewed, her yellow eyes fearfully meeting Amberkit’s. She backed away and bumped into Bluepaw.

“Oh Bluepaw!” She meowed. “I didn’t know you were back yet.”

Bluepaw let out a small trill of laughter. “That’s okay. You certainly know how to play with kits. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that you actually were a ShadowClan warrior, and I might have attacked you too,” she teased.

Rainpaw shoved her with her shoulder. “Oh come on. I don’t smell half as bad as those rat-eating flea bags.”

Bluepaw sniffed the air. “Are you sure?” she meowed, her gaze doubtful.

Rainpaw sprang onto Bluepaw tackling her to the ground. “You take that back, Bluepaw!” she teasingly demanded.

“Fine, fine,” Bluepaw meowed between peals of laughter as Rainpaw pummeled her with her paws. “You don’t smell as bad as a ShadowClan cat.”

Rainpaw stopped her attack, and sat down to groom her ruffled pelt. “You bet I don’t,” she meowed, licking her fur.

“Rainpaw.”

It was Bramblewhisker. He was padding towards her with Hazeltail at his heels.

“We’re going on a hunting patrol now,” he told her.

Rainpaw sprang to her paws. “Okay! Who’s coming with us?”

“Just Hazeltail and Flashfang,” Bramblewhisker informed her.

He started towards the Camp entrance where Flashfang was already waiting. Snowstorm was waiting with him, apparently wanting to spend as much time with him as possible before he set out on the patrol.

“I wonder if Flashfang will be able to tear himself away from Snowstorm long enough to actually come,” Rainpaw commented slyly to Bluepaw.

Bluepaw gave a snort of amusement. “He’s not the one I’m worried about. Snowstorm’s likely to die of grief if he leaves for longer than a few heartbeats.”

Rainpaw laughed, then bounded away to join her patrol.

Bluepaw decided that now would be a good time to catch a quick nap, so she padded over to the apprentices’ den. Inside, she found Pebblepaw and Goldpaw curled up next to each other. They had just come back from battle training in the mossy clearing, and their mentors had obviously worn them out. They lay fast asleep, their breath coming in tiny snores.

Bluepaw curled up in her nest of moss and bracken and closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep quickly. But her troubled thoughts made it impossible. In her mind, images of the marks on the trees and Silverheart’s petrified gaze kept on flashing back. She tried to push them away, telling herself that they were nothing to worry about, but she couldn’t. Finally, after a long time of tossing and turning, she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.