Firestar's Quest Page 12

  “What do you mean?” Yellowfang mewed shakily. “How can that happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Sagewhisker admitted. “This isn’t the first time, though, is it?”

  Yellowfang thought back to the times she had been in pain. When I fought that huge WindClan tom, I felt like I was seriously injured, but I wasn’t. And there was the pain I felt when Silverflame was dying … and the time when my belly ached when Nutkit ate the crow-food. Great StarClan, has this been happening since I was a kit?

  “I guess not,” Yellowfang mewed quietly. “But … doesn’t every cat feel the same? It’s not hard to see an injury and imagine how it feels!”

  “This isn’t your imagination,” Sagewhisker told her. “StarClan must have given you these feelings for a reason, and we have to find out what it is.”

  “No!” Yellowfang forced herself to her paws, ignoring painful muscles that shrieked in protest. “I don’t want to be different! I just want to be a warrior!”

  CHAPTER 10

  Yellowfang stormed out of the medicine cat’s den in a whirl of fury and terror, brushing past Rowanberry, who was waiting for her.

  “What’s the matter?” Rowanberry called, trotting after her. “Are you okay?”

  Yellowfang strode on without replying. Her paw still ached, but she did her best to ignore it. She didn’t want to talk to any cat, not even her sister. She was heading for the warriors’ den, but before she had covered even half the distance, Brightflower bounded up to her.

  “Little one!” her mother gasped. “Are you badly hurt? I hear you fought so bravely.”

  “Sagewhisker fixed everything,” Yellowfang muttered, not breaking stride.

  Brightflower kept pace with her. “You need to rest,” she fretted. “Stonetooth won’t expect you to go out on patrol until you’re fully healed.”

  “I’m fine, okay?” Yellowfang snapped, pretending not to see the shocked look in her mother’s eyes.

  “Hey, Yellowfang!” Archeye intercepted her as she hurried on. “I hear you were wounded. How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  Suddenly the clearing seemed to be full of cats, all of them bearing down on her, asking stupid questions about her injuries. Can’t they see I’m okay?

  “Leave me alone, will you?” she snarled at Foxpaw and Wolfpaw as they came scurrying up, eager to hear about the battle. She veered away from the warriors’ den and ran across the clearing to the entrance.

  “Stuck-up furball!” Foxpaw yowled after her.

  Yellowfang plunged through the gap and headed for the shadows under the trees. Her mind was still reeling, but she was grateful for the calm and quiet of the forest. A moment later she heard the sound of paw steps and picked up a familiar scent: Rowanberry had followed her.

  “What do you want?” Yellowfang growled.

  “I’m worried about you,” her sister responded, blinking at Yellowfang in concern. “You don’t look badly hurt, but I can see something is wrong.”

  For a moment Yellowfang felt the urge to tell Rowanberry the crazy things that Sagewhisker had said, all the nonsense about being able to feel other cats’ injuries. But as soon as she opened her jaws to speak, another sharp pain shot through her paw. With a sinking feeling in her belly she looked at Rowanberry, and saw that one of her claws was bent backward.

  “What’s wrong with your paw?” she asked, forcing the words out. “Did you get hurt in the battle?”

  Rowanberry nodded. “It’s a bit sore,” she admitted.

  Yellowfang knew that she could never tell her sister the truth about what she was feeling. The stab of pain had shown her that Sagewhisker was right. If I tell Rowanberry, she’ll think I’m weird. It would change everything.

  “Go see Sagewhisker,” she told her sister. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine on my own for a while.”

  Rowanberry hesitated for a heartbeat, then touched her nose briefly to Yellowfang’s ear and scampered toward the camp.

  Yellowfang watched her until she was out of sight. I can cope with these feelings, she told herself. They won’t stop me from being a great warrior. With her head up, she began padding through the trees. This changes nothing.

  Yellowfang stalked along the edge of the marshes, enjoying the warmth of sunlight on her pelt and the taste of the plump vole she carried in her jaws. Three sunrises had passed since the battle, and the pain in her body had faded away. “We’ve hunted well today,” she mumbled to Nutwhisker around her mouthful of prey.

  Nutwhisker, who was dragging a squirrel, paused for a moment and let his prey drop to the ground. “We’d do even better if we weren’t stuck here in the marshes,” he commented. “I can’t believe that a badger would dare move into our territory.”

  Featherstorm, who was leading the hunting patrol, caught what Nutwhisker said and rolled her eyes. “You know very well we’ve always had trouble with badgers,” she meowed. “Anyway, it won’t be a problem for long, now that Cedarstar has ordered extra patrols to keep an eye open for it.”

  Blizzardwing, who padded up with Foxpaw just behind him, nodded. “We’ll soon get rid of it. And then we can hunt all over the territory again.”

  “I’m not scared of badgers,” Foxpaw declared, dropping the starling she was carrying. “I’d give it a good thump on the nose if it dared to chase me!”

  Blizzardwing’s head swiveled around and he fixed his apprentice with a freezing glare. “If you’re not scared of badgers then you’re a mouse-brain,” he told Foxpaw. “They’re the most ferocious animals in the forest—far worse than foxes. If one chases you, run away as far and as fast as you can. Now pick up your fresh-kill and let’s get a move on.”

  Foxpaw obeyed, scowling. Yellowfang exchanged a glance with Nutwhisker before following at the rear of the patrol. Foxpaw thinks she’s so great. It will take more than a cocky little apprentice to deal with this badger!

  When the patrol returned to camp, Yellowfang was arranging the new prey on the fresh-kill pile when she heard a sudden commotion at the entrance to the camp: cats’ voices raised in shock and anger, and the beat of paws on hard ground.

  Is it the badger? Yellowfang wondered, her heart pounding. She spun around to see Toadskip and Nettlespot escorting two strange cats into the camp. A moment later she realized that they weren’t strangers at all—not to her.

  Red and Boulder! What are they doing here?

  Cedarstar emerged from his den underneath the oak tree and paced across the camp. “What do they want?”

  “We found them on our territory,” Nettlespot explained. “They wouldn’t tell us why they were there.”

  “Were you spying?” Cedarstar demanded, fixing a suspicious gaze on the two newcomers.

  “Tear their pelts off!” Frogtail called out from the crowd.

  “Yeah,” Mudclaw agreed. “They’ve no business here.”

  Hostile murmurs rose from the corners of the camp. Glancing around, Yellowfang spotted Raggedpelt crouching down as if he was ready to pounce on the Twolegplace cats. A low growl came from his throat.

  “Well?” Cedarstar prompted. “Why have you come here?”

  Red took a pace forward with her head held high. Yellowfang couldn’t help admiring her courage. She looked barely old enough to be an apprentice, yet she held Cedarstar’s gaze calmly.

  “My name is Red, and this is Boulder,” she announced. “We want to join your Clan.”

  The defiant muttering changed to murmurs of disbelief.

  “Right!” Nutwhisker spoke into Yellowfang’s ear. “As if we’d swallow that!”

  Boulder stepped forward to stand beside his friend. “We really do,” he insisted. “We want to hunt and fight like you do.”

  “Why?” Stonetooth challenged them, padding out of the crowd to join Cedarstar. “You belong in the Twolegplace. You should go back.”

  “And stay there!” Amberleaf called out.

  “I don’t believe a single word of this,” Blizzardwing put in. “It must be a trick!�
�

  Cedarstar stared at the intruders. “Tell us why you wish to join ShadowClan,” he meowed.

  “It’s great here in the forest!” Boulder burst out enthusiastically. “You catch your own prey, and—”

  Red gave him a hard shove. “Shut up, flea-brain! That’s not what’s most important.” Addressing Cedarstar with a polite dip of her head, she went on, “You impressed us when you fought with us. You showed us your strength and skill, but you showed us mercy, too.”

  “That’s right,” Boulder added. “You could have killed us, but you chose not to. If that’s what it means to live by your warrior code—that, and the fact that you feed yourselves, and find your own shelter—then we want to be part of it.”

  Silence greeted the young cats’ serious words, followed by a babble of comment.

  “They’re lying!”

  “Maybe not. Maybe—”

  Cedarstar raised his tail for silence. “It will be a long, hard struggle to win acceptance here in the Clan,” he warned the newcomers. “Kittypets have never been welcome in the forest.”

  “We’re not kittypets!” Red retorted, her neck fur fluffing out with indignation. “Both our mothers caught their own prey on the streets of Twolegplace. We would never live with housefolk!”

  “You can’t prove that!” Scorchwind scoffed.

  But Cedarstar was looking thoughtful. “Very well,” he began slowly. “A Clan would be foolish to turn down the prospect of new warriors, especially when times are hard. More paws to catch prey will always be a valued addition. You may stay here for one moon. If you prove your loyalty during that time, I’ll consider making you part of ShadowClan.”

  “You won’t regret it,” Red mewed.

  “I hope not,” Cedarstar responded. Flicking his tail to beckon Brackenfoot, he continued, “Show them to the apprentices’ den and teach them how to make nests for themselves.”

  As Brackenfoot led the rogues away, Yellowfang spotted Foxpaw watching with an expression of disgust. “Yuck!” she exclaimed to Wolfpaw. “I don’t want them sleeping with us. I bet they’re full of fleas.”

  “Don’t worry,” Wolfpaw replied. “We’ll make sure they get all the worst jobs, like checking the elders for ticks.”

  Cedarstar turned to go back to his own den, but Stonetooth stood in his way. “Are you crazy?” he hissed. “These cats are our enemies. They must be spies!”

  “There’s no proof of that,” Cedarstar responded calmly.

  Stonetooth snorted. “Do you remember when we thought Featherstorm might have been visiting the Twolegplace at night?” He lowered his voice, but Yellowfang could still catch his words. “Do you want more trouble like that? We can’t have our cats tangled up with—”

  Cedarstar cut him off with a brusque wave of his tail. “And we can’t afford to turn away strong young cats who might be telling the truth. Do you want them to go to another Clan and learn to fight against us? No, we’ll give them a chance to …”

  As the warriors moved away, Yellowfang couldn’t hear any more. She glanced around for Raggedpelt, but he had vanished. Instead, Nutwhisker turned to her, his fur bristling.

  “Twolegplace cats made apprentices!” he exclaimed. “Cedarstar must be mouse-brained!”

  To her surprise, Yellowfang felt defensive on behalf of Red and Boulder. “We should give them a chance,” she meowed. “They’re cats, the same as us. And they’re not kittypets, which makes a difference, right?”

  “They’re still—” Nutwhisker began, but broke off as Archeye called his name from across the clearing.

  “I’m leading a hunting patrol. Do you want to come?” Archeye asked.

  “Sure!” Nutwhisker raced off.

  Yellowfang looked at Raggedpelt, who was waiting to join Archeye’s patrol. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

  At that moment Raggedpelt noticed that she was watching him. For a heartbeat his gaze locked with hers; then he turned away with a scowl.

  Annoying furball! Yellowfang thought with a flash of frustration. When will he stop treating me like an enemy? He should know I’d never give away his secret!

  Yellowfang had been to the dirtplace and returned to camp as twilight was falling. As she emerged from the tunnel she spotted Red and Boulder sharing a vole a few tail-lengths away. She hesitated, not knowing whether to approach them or not. Before she could decide, Red looked up, then glanced at Boulder and led the way over to Yellowfang.

  “You’re the cat who came to see Hal, aren’t you?” Boulder meowed. “With that tom over there?” He pointed with his tail toward Raggedpelt, who was sitting with his brother near the fresh-kill pile.

  Yellowfang felt hot all over. “Yes,” she admitted.

  “I guess you weren’t supposed to be hanging out with cats from Twolegplace.” Red’s voice was surprisingly sympathetic. “You guys have a lot of rules about where you’re supposed to go.”

  “Yeah.” Yellowfang was grateful for the young cat’s understanding. “So if you don’t mind …”

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us,” Red mewed cheerfully. “Who knows, we might want to have a few nighttime adventures of our own, once we’ve learned our way around!”

  For a heartbeat Yellowfang felt a flash of suspicion, but she crushed it down. She guessed that most Clan cats had felt the same when they were young.

  It’s just as well they didn’t hear us talking to Hal, Yellowfang thought. They’re too young to have been born when Featherstorm was visiting the Twolegplace, which means they have no idea that Hal could be Raggedpelt’s father.

  Yellowfang trotted to the fresh-kill pile and chose a mouse for herself. She noticed that Raggedpelt was casting worried glances toward Red and Boulder, his claws flexing nervously.

  I should tell him that they won’t say anything about the time we went to Twolegplace. Then she let out an irritable snort. Let him suffer! If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I don’t see why I should make his life easier.

  Next morning Yellowfang awoke to the sound of Cedarstar’s voice ringing out across the camp. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Clanrock for a Clan meeting!”

  Yellowfang poked her head out of the warriors’ den. It had rained in the night, but now sunlight glittered on shallow pools on the floor of the clearing and on droplets caught among the branches of the dens. The dawn patrol, led by Finchflight, was just returning.

  Cedarstar stood on top of the rock, watching the Clan assemble below him. Sagewhisker was sitting at the entrance of her den, with Brightflower, Lizardfang, and Littlebird beside her. Foxpaw and Wolfpaw scrambled out of the apprentices’ den and wriggled through the gathering crowd to find places at the front. Red and Boulder followed more slowly. They exchanged an anxious glance with each other and sat down close to the brambles that circled the clearing.

  Nutwhisker and Ashheart brushed past Yellowfang on their way out of the den. “Come on!” Nutwhisker urged her. “Don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

  Yellowfang followed them. Spotting Rowanberry sitting close to the base of the rock, she bounded over to join her. “What’s all this about?” she asked.

  Rowanberry licked one paw and drew it over her ear. “No idea,” she mewed.

  By now most of the Clan was sitting around the rock. Finchflight and the rest of the dawn patrol—including Raggedpelt, Yellowfang noticed—were the last to arrive. When they had settled down, Cedarstar spoke.

  “Yesterday, two rogues from the Twolegplace came here and asked to join our Clan. Today they will begin their training as apprentices. Red, Boulder, come here.”

  A murmur of mingled surprise and hostility rose from the assembled cats as Red and Boulder sprang to their paws. For a moment they hesitated; Red tried to give her shoulders a quick grooming.

  “What happened to waiting a moon for them to prove their loyalty?” Rowanberry muttered.

  Yellowfang shrugged. “I guess they have to start training right away,” she mew
ed. “And how can they do that without a mentor?”

  “Come,” Cedarstar repeated, beckoning with his tail.

  Boulder and Red picked their way through the cats, who drew back to leave them an empty space at the base of the Clanrock. They halted close to Yellowfang; though they held their heads and tails high, she could see that they were both nervous.

  “What happens now?” Red hissed to her out of the side of her jaws.

  “You’ll be fine,” Yellowfang reassured her softly. “Just listen to Cedarstar.”

  “Red,” Cedarstar began, “you have left your home in Twolegplace, and stated your wish to become a member of ShadowClan. From this time on you shall be known as Russetpaw.” His gaze traveled around the cats until it rested on Featherstorm. “Featherstorm,” he went on, “you are a skillful Clan cat with an excellent knowledge of the warrior code. I know that you will pass this knowledge on to your apprentice.”

  Yellowfang bit back an exclamation of surprise. Cedarstar knows that Featherstorm used to hang out with Twolegplace cats! Russetpaw and Boulder might be too young to remember seeing her there, but what if they heard about her from the kittypets?

  Featherstorm, looking less than pleased, made her way to the front and stood waiting. “She’s your mentor,” Yellowfang whispered to Russetpaw. “Go and touch noses with her.”

  With a grateful look, Russetpaw obeyed, and stood beside Featherstorm while Cedarstar continued. “Boulder, you too have asked for a place in ShadowClan. From this time on you shall be known as—”

  “Hang on,” Boulder meowed.

  Yellowfang gasped. No cat interrupted the Clan leader, especially when he spoke from the Clanrock.

  “He’ll be crow-food!” Rowanberry muttered.

  Cedarstar’s tail lashed once. “What is it?”

  “I like my name,” Boulder announced, obviously unaware that he had done anything unusual. “Can I keep it?”

  The Clan leader paused for a couple of heartbeats. Finally, to Yellowfang’s surprise, he nodded. “Very well. From this time on you will be known as Boulder. Mousewing, you will be mentor to this new apprentice. I trust that you will teach him the skills he needs and the behavior expected from a Clan cat.”