CHAPTER 1

“Hurry up, Twigpaw!” Ivypool’s mew rang though the trees.

Hush! Twigpaw flicked her tail irritably. A mouse was snuffling through the freshly fallen leaves of an oak. She could see it in the shadow of a root. It froze as Ivypool’s mew shattered the silence. Twigpaw didn’t move, relaxing only when the mouse once more began rummaging through the leaves.

She leaped and felt the soft flesh of the mouse beneath her claws as she slammed her paws down. After giving a quick killing bite, she lifted its limp body between her teeth and turned to join the others.

Ivypool was hauling a thrush—an earlier catch—from beneath a clump of ferns. Sparkpelt paced behind Fernsong, and Cherryfall lounged in a patch of late-afternoon sun. As Twigpaw reached them, she tossed the mouse onto the pile of prey they had collected.

Lionblaze sat stiffly, his gaze probing the forest as though searching for danger.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for.” Sparkpelt sniffed at him. “The rogues are gone and all the other Clan cats are in our camp.”

“Not all the Clan cats,” Ivypool pointed out.

“ShadowClan went home days ago,” Fernsong added.

“But we’ve still got half of RiverClan and a whole new Clan cluttering up our dens.” Sparkpelt fluffed out her fur. “I’m sick of sleeping under ferns so a RiverClan warrior can have my nest. In another moon, the ferns will have shriveled and I’ll be sleeping in the cold.”

“Reedwhisker needs your nest,” Fernsong reminded her. “He’s still recovering from being held captive by the rogues.”

“And he won’t be there much longer,” Ivypool meowed. “Mistystar says that RiverClan has nearly finished rebuilding their camp. They’ll be able to go home soon.”

“What about SkyClan?” Sparkpelt challenged.

Lionblaze answered without moving his gaze from the distant trees. “SkyClan will be gone soon too.”

“Where? They have nowhere to go.” Cherryfall got to her paws.

“The Clan leaders will decide at the next Gathering,” Lionblaze told her.

Sparkpelt’s fur prickled along her spine. “What are they going to do? Invent new territory for SkyClan to live on?”

“There’s not enough room around the lake for an extra Clan.” Cherryfall glanced at Twigpaw.

Twigpaw shrank beneath her pelt. Was the ginger she-cat blaming her? I found SkyClan and brought them here. This fact, which had made her so proud initially, had begun to peck at her like a crow. The camp was overcrowded, and where would SkyClan live? But my father is in SkyClan. I have a family now. Despite the happy thought, worry wormed in Twigpaw’s belly. Perhaps I was being selfish by bringing them to the lake. Perhaps there isn’t room for another Clan.

“Who’s going to give up territory to make room for them?” Sparkpelt stared at Lionblaze as though the golden tom should have an answer.

He shrugged. “Let StarClan decide.”

“StarClan wanted them back.” Cherryfall pawed through the day’s catch. “Let StarClan find them somewhere to live.”

Fernsong shifted his paws. “At least the prey is running well,” he meowed. “I just hope we have enough to feed everyone tonight.”

“Bramblestar sent out five hunting parties today,” Ivypool reminded him. “And RiverClan will bring prey with them when they return from working on their camp.”

If they return,” Sparkpelt sniffed. “Last night Mistystar and her patrol didn’t come back at all.”

Twigpaw felt a twinge of irritation. “I thought you wanted them gone.” Why was Sparkpelt being so crabby? She was usually so positive about everything. “You should be happy they didn’t come back.”

Sparkpelt flicked her tail dismissively. “Let’s take our prey home.” She snatched a shrew and a vole by their tails.

“Good idea.” Ivypool picked up the thrush.

Twigpaw grabbed her mouse. At least with her mouth full Sparkpelt won’t be able to complain anymore. Lionblaze, Cherryfall, and Fernsong gathered up the last of the prey, and together they headed back to the hollow.

At the camp entrance, Twigpaw waited for the rest of the patrol to duck through the thorn tunnel. The branches scraped her pelt as she followed them through. On the other side, cats crowded the clearing, chattering like a flock of starlings. Scents swirled around her. RiverClan and SkyClan scent mingled with the smell of her Clanmates. And the faint odor of ShadowClan still lingered on the bushes around the edge of the camp.

As usual, SkyClan’s warriors lay around the apprentices’ den, soaking up the last of the late-greenleaf sun before its rays disappeared behind the cliff top. Two of their apprentices, Dewpaw and Finpaw, practiced battle moves in the clearing, while Reedpaw jeered fondly at her brothers’ clumsy leaps and rolls. Leaf-fall was coming fast; leaves drifted down from the trees at the top of the hollow, falling softly around them.

Twigpaw scanned SkyClan, looking for Hawkwing, Blossomheart, and Violetpaw. Her kin. When ShadowClan had returned to their own territory a few days ago, Rowanstar had allowed Violetpaw to remain behind so that she could spend time with their father and his sister. Twigpaw loved sharing the camp with kin at last, and when she couldn’t see their pelts among the others, she wondered, with a prickle of anxiety, where they were. She couldn’t let go of the fear that she might lose them again.

Leafstar stood near her Clan. Twigpaw caught her eye. The mottled brown-and-cream SkyClan leader must have seen worry in her gaze, because she nodded toward the medicine den. “Alderheart is checking on Hawkwing,” she called over the murmur of voices. “Violetpaw went with him.”

Twigpaw’s pelt prickled with concern. “Is he okay?”

“Don’t worry,” Leafstar purred. “Alderheart’s checked on all of us today. I think your medicine cat likes making us eat herbs.”

Blossomheart, the SkyClan she-cat who Twigpaw had recently learned was her father’s littermate, lifted her head. “He says it’ll help us build up our strength, but I think he just likes to see the look on our faces as we swallow them.”

Outside the nursery, Tinycloud shuddered. “I’m not swallowing any more herbs till I’ve kitted,” she mewed indignantly. She glanced at her bulging belly. “There’s hardly room for these kits in my belly, even without herbs.”

Blossomfall lay beside her. “Your kits will come soon enough.” As she spoke, Stemkit and Eaglekit scrambled over their mother and hurtled after Plumkit and Shellkit, who were darting among the other cats, squealing with delight as they played warrior and prey. Blossomfall purred loudly. “And as you know, once they do, you won’t get any peace.”

Feeling a pang in her stomach, Twigpaw hurried toward the fresh-kill pile. A group of RiverClan cats sat clustered below Highledge. Reedwhisker, Mintfur, Brackenpelt, and Icewing, who had been held captive by Darktail and his rogues, still looked thin and hollow-eyed after their ordeal. They had been starved in captivity, and their wounds had been left to fester. Now Lakeheart and Mallownose flanked them protectively while Willowshine licked another sticky poultice into Mintfur’s scratches.

ThunderClan’s patrols were back in camp, too. Berrynose and Poppyfrost were enjoying some prey beside the warriors’ den, while Brightheart and Cloudtail shared tongues nearby. Jayfeather was outside the medicine den, helping Briarlight with her exercises. Birchfall stood at the center of the clearing, looking lost. He craned his neck, scanning the countless pelts as though looking for someone, then purred with delight as he caught sight of Whitewing and hurried to join her.

As Twigpaw picked her way between the cats sprawled around the clearing, Graystripe pushed his way out of the elders’ den. Behind him, the honeysuckle walls bulged as cats moved inside. Mosspelt, the RiverClan elder, and two cats from SkyClan had made nests there. Graystripe shook out his fur. “Fresh air!” he rumbled, sounding relieved. “It’s so stuffy in there, even the fleas are trying to get out.”

His mew was swallowed by the chatter of the other cats. But from Highledge, Bramblestar caught the elder’s eye and nodded sympathetically.

Finally, Twigpaw reached the fresh-kill pile and dropped her prey.

“Have you seen this?” Molewhisker was already there. “RiverClan brought back frogs.” He was staring in disgust at the smooth, fat bodies among the furry forest prey.

Twigpaw wrinkled her nose. “I guess they like the taste.”

“Just so long as they don’t try to feed them to us,” Molewhisker sniffed.

Cherryfall dropped her rabbit onto the pile. “At least they caught something.” She glanced pointedly at the SkyClan cats. “Some of our visitors are still too weak to hunt.”

Twigpaw bristled. “It’s not their fault. They’ve been through a lot.”

Ivypool brushed past and laid her catch on the ground. “Jayfeather said they’re supposed to rest until they get their strength back.”

Cherryfall grunted. “And who’s going to help us get our strength back after we’ve finished feeding half the forest?”

As Lionblaze and Fernsong laid their prey beside the others’, Lionblaze looked sternly at Cherryfall. “Complaining isn’t going to help anyone.”

“She’s allowed to have an opinion.” Molewhisker moved closer to the ginger she-cat and glared at Lionblaze. “Besides, are we even sure that SkyClan is a real Clan?”

Cherryfall flicked her tail in agreement. “They might just be another bunch of rogues.”

Twigpaw stared at her. How could she say that?

She opened her mouth to defend her father’s Clan, but Fernsong spoke first. “Bramblestar says they are one of the original Clans. Are you doubting your leader?” The pale yellow tabby tom blinked at Molewhisker.

“Then why hadn’t we heard about SkyClan before? How come only Bramblestar knew about them?”

Ivypool flicked her tail crossly. “StarClan knew about them,” she meowed. “Are you contradicting our ancestors?”

Twigpaw felt a rush of gratitude toward her mentor.

Ivypool went on. “It’s not SkyClan’s fault they returned to us at such a bad time.”

“They had to return now,” Lionblaze added. “It was part of the prophecy.”

“But they didn’t return because StarClan showed them the way.” Cherryfall turned her gaze on Twigpaw. “Some cat brought them here because she wanted to find her father.”

“That was part of StarClan’s prophecy, too,” Lionblaze retorted. “We found Twigpaw in the shadows so that she could clear the sky—”

Twigpaw couldn’t listen to any more. Cherryfall’s words were stinging like nettles. She turned away, hot with shame. Cherryfall was right. She had searched for SkyClan because she’d wanted to find her father. Her paws hadn’t been guided by StarClan but by her own selfishness.

“Wait.” Ivypool hurried after Twigpaw.

Twigpaw stopped, her pelt pricking with worry. “I didn’t mean to spoil everything.”

“You did a huge thing by bringing SkyClan here,” Ivypool told her. “This is where they belong. StarClan wanted them to return, and you’re the one who found them.” She touched her nose to Twigpaw’s head. “I am so proud of you. And”—she pulled back and looked Twigpaw in the eyes—“I’m sorry that I didn’t support you when you wanted to find your kin.”

Twigpaw looked at Ivypool gratefully. It did make her feel better to hear her mentor apologize. If ThunderClan had sent out a search party, Twigpaw wouldn’t have had to go out on her own, against Bramblestar’s orders. But more than that, it had hurt Twigpaw not to have her mentor’s support on something so important to her. “Thank you.” She closed her eyes. “But I’m worried I may have caused more trouble for the Clans by bringing SkyClan here.”

“If you have, it’s trouble StarClan wants us to have.” Twigpaw opened her eyes, and Ivypool met her gaze before she went on. “And it’s far less trouble than we’ve seen in the past moons. Darktail is dead and his rogues are gone. The Clans must find their paws again, and we must find space for SkyClan. It may not be easy, but once it’s finished, all the Clans will be stronger for it.” Ivypool dipped her head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about you or SkyClan.”

“What were you thinking about?”

Ivypool glanced around nervously. “Tigerheart and Dovewing were quick to volunteer to join the search.” She lowered her voice. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for them to travel together.”

Twigpaw understood. While Tigerheart had been staying in the ThunderClan camp, he and Dovewing had made more and more excuses to hunt and patrol together. They’d even shared prey. Twigpaw had seen the accusing glances exchanged by her Clanmates every time Dovewing and Tigerheart brushed past each other on the way to the fresh-kill pile. Ivypool must be relieved that Tigerheart and the ShadowClan cats were gone. How could a relationship between her sister and another Clan’s deputy lead to anything but trouble?

She nodded. “So you didn’t want to stop me from finding my father?”

Ivypool blinked at her slowly. “Of course not. And I’m sorry you thought I did, and that my actions put you in danger.”

“And you’re not mad that I snuck off by myself?” Twigpaw pressed.

“I would have done the same.” Ivypool’s gaze was warm. “I’m glad you came back safely. ThunderClan is lucky to have you.”

A purr swelled in Twigpaw’s throat. She felt happy they’d cleared the air. Suddenly, Cherryfall’s complaints didn’t seem important. Once more she felt sure she’d done the right thing by bringing SkyClan home. “Thanks, Ivypool.”

Ivypool nodded toward the medicine den. “I think Violetpaw wants you.”

Twigpaw followed her gaze. Violetpaw was staring at her anxiously from beside the entrance. Was something wrong with Hawkwing? Twigpaw hurried toward her, heart beating in her throat. “What’s happened?”

Jayfeather looked up as she passed him. “Nothing.” He lifted one of Briarlight’s crippled hind legs with his paws and began to ease it up and down slowly. “Alderheart’s just decided that SkyClan needs twice as much attention as any other cats in this camp. Perhaps he’s hoping Leafstar will make him their medicine cat.”

“That’s not fair!” Twigpaw stopped and stared at Jayfeather. “He’s just being a good medicine cat. Like you taught him to be.”

Jayfeather’s blind blue gaze fixed on her, but he didn’t say anything. Indeed, his eyes widened slightly, as though he was impressed that she’d stood up to him.

“Come inside,” Violetpaw urged. Her gaze flitted around the busy camp. Twigpaw knew her sister wasn’t comfortable in ThunderClan. But she hadn’t been comfortable in ShadowClan, either. Or with the rogues. She only seemed happy with Hawkwing by her side.

Twigpaw followed her into the medicine den. Inside, late sunshine glittered at the top of the small hollow, sparkling on the damp cliff face where water trickled down to a small pool. Beside it, Alderheart was checking Hawkwing’s pelt. “The scratches have healed and you’re looking better,” the medicine cat told him.

“So I can hunt now?” Hawkwing looked eager.

“You should still rest for a few more days.” Alderheart pawed a small pile of herbs toward the SkyClan deputy.

“Are you sure?” Hawkwing meowed impatiently. “I don’t like being a burden on ThunderClan. I want to contribute to the fresh-kill pile.”

“I’m sure.” Alderheart sat back on his haunches. “And I’m sure a few mice and voles will be happy to live another day.”

Hawkwing caught sight of Twigpaw. He purred. “How was the hunt?”

“Great.” She crossed the medicine den and rubbed her cheek against his. “I caught a mouse and a shrew.”

“I can’t wait until I can be out there with you.” His gaze flicked to Violetpaw. “I always dreamed I’d hunt beside my kits one day.”

Violetpaw sat down and wrapped her paws over her tail, returning her father’s gaze happily.

Twigpaw felt a twinge of guilt. Hawkwing had already said that he would be happy for her to join SkyClan. Was she supposed to? Were kin more important than the Clan that had raised her?

“You’ve both grown into such fine cats.” Hawkwing turned to Alderheart. “I can’t thank you enough for finding them and looking after them.”

Alderheart glanced away self-consciously. “It was my privilege,” he murmured. “And I’m glad SkyClan is back where it belongs. I’ve been searching for you ever since my first vision.”

“It’s good to be among the other Clans,” Hawkwing meowed. “All we need now is our own territory so we don’t have to rely on the kindness of others.”

There’s not enough room around the lake for an extra Clan. Cherryfall’s words rang in Twigpaw’s head. But there was plenty of room. It took a whole day to mark the borders of ThunderClan territory. She guessed the same was true of the other Clans’ land. Surely they didn’t need that much space? Cherryfall’s just being difficult. She dismissed her Clanmate’s words. “There’s prey outside,” she mewed. “Let’s go and find something to eat.”

“Eat your herbs first,” Alderheart told Hawkwing.

Twigpaw headed for the entrance while Hawkwing lapped up the shredded leaves. As she ducked outside, an angry yowl pierced the air.

“What is Mosspelt supposed to eat?” Owlnose, a brown tabby RiverClan tom, was staring angrily at Cloudtail. The fresh-kill pile had dwindled, but there were still plenty of mice and voles there, along with Cherryfall’s rabbit.

“There’s more than enough left for Mosspelt,” Cloudtail answered sharply. “I don’t know why you’re making a fuss.”

Owlnose glared at him. “Have you forgotten the warrior code? The weakest cats eat first.” He glanced at the ThunderClan warriors eating prey around the edge of the clearing and then at Graystripe and Millie, who were tucking into a thrush. His angry glare seemed to silence the Clans. A hush descended over the hollow. “Why do your elders eat while ours goes hungry?”

Mosspelt was sitting outside the elders’ den, eyes bleary.

Graystripe looked up from his meal, his ears pricking. “Has some cat gone hungry?”

“Mosspelt,” Owlnose meowed indignantly.

“She was asleep,” Graystripe told him. “Even RiverClan cats can’t eat in their sleep, and I didn’t want to wake her. There’s nothing worse than being woken from a nap.”

Owlnose scowled at him. “Going hungry is worse.”

Millie sat up. “Mosspelt can share with us.” With a flick of her tail, she beckoned the RiverClan elder toward the thrush.

Mosspelt headed toward it, her pelt prickling self-consciously.

Owlnose’s fur bristled. “So all we get is ThunderClan leftovers now?”

“Perhaps if you spent more time hunting and less time complaining, there’d be enough for everyone.” Molewhisker lifted his chin defiantly.

But there is enough for everyone. Twigpaw looked at the prey left on the fresh-kill pile. Why were the toms making such a fuss?

Hawkwing and Violetpaw padded from the medicine den.

“What are they arguing about?” Violetpaw whispered as Lakeheart and Brackenpelt joined Owlnose and glared at Molewhisker.

Twigpaw shifted her paws uneasily. “I think there are too many warriors in one camp.”

The thorn barrier trembled and Mistystar padded in, Minnowtail, Breezepaw, Mallownose, and Podlight following at her heels. They stopped and stared in surprise. The camp was suddenly silent. “What’s happening here?” the RiverClan leader demanded.

Bramblestar leaped from Highledge. “Just a disagreement,” he explained. “It’s nothing to worry about. Every cat will feel better once they’ve eaten.”

Mistystar looked at Owlnose, Lakeheart, and Brackenpelt. “I hope you are showing respect. ThunderClan has been kind to us.”

The warriors didn’t meet her gaze.

Mistystar flicked her tail sharply. She turned to Bramblestar and dipped her head. “Thank you for your generosity. But I think it’s time RiverClan returned to our camp.”

Bramblestar flicked his muzzle toward Reedwhisker and Mintfur, the most injured of the RiverClan warriors. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

Mistystar glanced at them. “Don’t worry. Our injured cats will be cared for. Our medicine cats are as skilled as yours. And we’ve made good progress rebuilding the camp. We need to be home now to finish the work.”

Bramblestar nodded. “Very well. Would you like me to send a ThunderClan patrol with you? They could stay and help.”

“Thank you, but no.” Mistystar was firm.

“At least stay and eat with us.” Bramblestar glanced at Mosspelt, who had only just taken her first bite of thrush.

All gazes were fixed on Mistystar. Twigpaw felt tightness in her chest and realized that she was holding her breath. She didn’t want RiverClan to leave while tensions were still running high.

After a moment, Mistystar blinked softly. “Thank you, Bramblestar. We will.”

Relieved, Twigpaw waited beside Violetpaw and Hawkwing while Bramblestar led the RiverClan leader to the fresh-kill pile and nosed Cherryfall’s rabbit toward her.

Mistystar pushed it aside and picked out a shrew. “This will be enough.”

When she had left, Twigpaw padded toward the pile. She passed a mouse to Hawkwing and a shrew to Violetpaw before picking a vole for herself.

“Where shall we eat?” Violetpaw glanced nervously around the crowded clearing.

“Over there.” Twigpaw nodded toward an empty spot beside the SkyClan cats.

As Hawkwing and Violetpaw headed away, Ivypool called to her.

“Twigpaw!” Her mentor trotted happily toward her. “I’ve spoken to Bramblestar. We both agree it’s time for your assessment.”

My assessment! Excitement sparked through Twigpaw’s pelt. She’d have her warrior name at last! But the thought seemed to freeze in her mind. She glanced across the clearing to where Violetpaw and Hawkwing were settling down to eat beside SkyClan. Is that what I really want? To become a ThunderClan warrior? Perhaps she should be preparing for a life in SkyClan, as Violetpaw clearly was. After all, that was what her father wanted.

Is ThunderClan really my home now?

Загрузка...