Outcast (13 page)

“I have to go with Brambleclaw for a while,” Tawnypelt told them. “You remember the stories I've told you, about the cats who live in the mountains behind a wall of tumbling water? Well, those cats need my help, so I have to go.”

“Then can we come with you?” Flamekit asked. “
Please
.”

“We'd be really helpful,” Tigerkit added.

“No, you're too young.” Tawnypelt padded over to the three kits and touched her nose to each one in turn. “Be good, and eat your fresh-kill, and expect me back when the moon has been the same shape twice.”

“I'll keep an eye on them,” the white she-cat promised from the shadows.

“Thanks, Snowbird. There, you see,” Tawnypelt added to her kits, “Snowbird will take care of you, and she'll tell me if you've been naughty.”

“We won't,” Tigerkit promised.

“Even if we never get to have any fun,” Dawnkit muttered.

Tawnypelt gave her daughter a gentle flick over the ear with her tail. “Good-bye then,” she purred.

“Good-bye,” the kits chorused, their eyes wide.

Tawnypelt led the way out of the nursery, with Brambleclaw hard on her paws. Lionpaw paused to look back at the kits.
Good-bye, kin
, he whispered to himself as he followed his father into the clearing.

Outside the nursery, Blackstar and Tawnypelt were confronting each other.

“What do you mean, you want to go?” the Clan leader demanded.

“You said it was her decision,” Brambleclaw reminded him.

Blackstar lashed his tail but said nothing.

“We might have known,” Russetfur spat. “It just goes to show that she's not a loyal ShadowClan cat.”

Tawnypelt arched her back. “Don't you dare call me disloyal!”

“Tawnypelt.” The warrior called Rowanclaw padded up beside Tawnypelt and pressed his ginger muzzle against her shoulder. She leaned against him, her fur beginning to lie flat again. Lionpaw remembered that Rowanclaw was her mate, the father of her kits.

“It's nonsense to say that Tawnypelt isn't loyal,” he meowed to Russetfur. “I haven't forgotten all the Tribe cats did for us, even if you have. They deserve our help.” He bent his head to give Tawnypelt a gentle lick between the ears. “I'm proud of you for going,” he mewed. “And don't worry about the kits. I'll look after them.”

Tawnypelt let out a soft purr. “Thanks, Rowanclaw.” Turning to Brambleclaw, she meowed more briskly, “Shall we go?”

Lionpaw thought his father looked stunned, as if he hadn't expected to get her agreement so easily.

“There's no time to lose,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “Not when we still have to make the long journey to the mountains.”

“True,” Brambleclaw murmured. “Thank you, Blackstar,” he added to the ShadowClan leader. “I'm sure StarClan will approve of what you have done today.”

Blackstar nodded, looking awkward; Lionpaw knew very well he hadn't intended things to turn out like this. Russetfur just let out an annoyed hiss and turned away, lashing her tail.

Excitement flooded through him once more as he raced back through the forest with Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt.
He felt sure that Squirrelflight and Hollypaw must have had the same success in WindClan. Cats from all Clans were uniting to help the Tribe! This was even better than just going to visit the mountains. Maybe he would be part of another incredible story, and one day the Clans would tell it to their kits, just as they told the story of the Great Journey.

Hollypaw stood on the bank of
the stream that formed the border with WindClan, not far from the stepping stones. Wind from the moor slicked her fur to her sides, bringing the scent of cats and rabbits and the tough moorland grass.

Beside her, Squirrelflight waited, the tip of her tail twitching. Hollypaw could understand why her mother was uneasy. The WindClan border was still a sensitive area, after all the trouble when the WindClan kits went missing.

Her thoughts fled back to the tunnels and the surging underground river. She and the other apprentices had barely made it out alive with the kits. Hollypaw hoped that the tunnels would stay hidden for a long time, so there would be no more chance of misunderstandings.

“They're coming.” Squirrelflight was tasting the air.

A couple of heartbeats later a WindClan patrol appeared over the brow of the hill and headed toward them: Tornear, Whitetail, and Breezepaw. Hollypaw's belly began to churn as the apprentice charged toward her, streaking past his Clanmates. His pelt bristled; he was obviously ready for a border skirmish, but his stride faltered when he recognized Hollypaw.

“Oh, it's you,” he muttered, coming to a halt on the opposite bank of the stream.

“That's right.” Hollypaw couldn't forget what a pain he'd been in the tunnels, complaining and arguing the whole time. “I just can't keep away.”

She flinched as Squirrelflight flicked her ear with her tail.

“Breezepaw!” Whitetail called, as she and Tornear caught up to the apprentice. “Come away from there.”

Breezepaw bared his teeth in the beginning of a snarl, then lowered his head and padded away, muttering something under his breath.

“Why are you here?” Tornear asked; his voice was cool but not hostile.

“We need to speak to Crowfeather,” Squirrelflight explained.

Both Tornear and Whitetail bristled, their neck fur fluffing up as they exchanged suspicious glances.

“It's about the journey we made to the sun-drown-place,” Squirrelflight added quickly.

“That was a long time ago,” Tornear growled.

“Crowfeather's memory isn't that bad,” Squirrelflight retorted tartly. “He'll hardly have forgotten about it.”

Hollypaw couldn't understand why the WindClan cats had switched from reserve to hostility, or why her mother was being so sharp in return. Why should the WindClan cats be so tense when Crowfeather was mentioned?

“I can't just go and fetch Crowfeather,” Whitetail meowed. “You'll have to talk to Onestar first.”

“That's fine. I understand.” Squirrelflight bounded lightly across the stepping stones and into WindClan territory, giving Tornear a glare as she passed him. Hollypaw crossed more carefully, the swift-flowing stream bubbling past a mouse tail away from her paws.

As she followed her mother and the WindClan warriors up the hill, Breezepaw hung back until he was padding beside her. “What are you doing here?” he muttered into her ear. “Have you come to spy on our camp?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Hollypaw replied. “What would we want with your stupid camp? We need to speak to Crowfeather, that's all.”

“What about?” Breezepaw demanded.

“That's none of your business, mouse-brain!”

Breezepaw's eyes narrowed in anger. “But he's my father,” he began. “He—”

“Breezepaw.” Tornear glanced over his shoulder and flicked his tail to beckon the apprentice. “Come here and walk beside me.”

Breezepaw let out a hiss of annoyance, but he quickened his pace and caught up to the senior warriors.

“How's your training going, Breezepaw?” Squirrelflight asked.

“Not well.” Whitetail didn't wait for her apprentice to reply. “He led out a patrol of apprentices to see if the dogs had come back to the far corner of our territory. Without asking permission, of course, and without even a single warrior for backup.”

“We were only trying to—”

“To get yourselves killed,” Tornear interrupted.

Hollypaw had heard the stories of how dogs had killed Swiftpaw back in the forest, and she'd seen the terrible injuries they had given Brightheart. Breezepaw must be even more stupid than she thought if he imagined that a few apprentices could take on a pack of dogs and survive.

“And then there was the fight you provoked with the RiverClan patrol,” Tornear continued, his voice sharp with annoyance. “They were
not
trespassing, they were
not
stealing prey, and Onestar didn't appreciate having to apologize to Mistyfoot for the trouble
you
caused.” He let out a long sigh and added to Squirrelflight, “Breezepaw has many lessons to learn before he becomes a warrior.”

Breezepaw glared at the senior warriors as they turned away and muttered something Hollypaw didn't catch.

Whitetail and Tornear led the way up a long slope to a barrier of gorse bushes. Hollypaw followed as they pushed their way through, feeling the thorns snag on her pelt. On the other side she found herself looking out over the WindClan camp.

A steep slope led down into a natural dip, dotted with gorse and bramble. Blinking, Hollypaw tried to guess the layout. The camp was more exposed than she was used to, though toward the bottom of the dip there were hollows where cats could shelter. She tasted the air, trying to work out from the scents where each group of cats lived. A pungent smell of mouse bile was coming from a deep hole that looked
like an abandoned badger set.
That must be the elders' den. They're always needing mouse bile to get rid of their ticks
. From a crack in a huge boulder she picked up the aromatic scent of herbs and realized that must be Barkface's den. And warm, milky scents came from a gorse thicket; that would be the nursery.

“Go and take some fresh-kill to the elders,” Whitetail ordered Breezepaw, interrupting Hollypaw's thoughts. Waving her tail to Squirrelflight she added, “Follow me. We'll see if Onestar is in his den.”

Hollypaw bounded down the slope behind her mother, while Whitetail raced ahead. But before the ThunderClan cats reached the bottom of the hollow, Crowfeather appeared from the bushes at the other side, a rabbit dangling from his jaws. He spotted the visitors, froze for a heartbeat, then ran lightly down to deposit his prey on the fresh-kill pile.

As Squirrelflight padded up to him he turned to face her, his gray-black fur bristling. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Squirrelflight replied, while Hollypaw wondered what was bothering Crowfeather. Did he have ants in his pelt? “At least, yes, but not with the Clans.”

Squirrelflight seemed to have gotten herself into a tangle, so Hollypaw stepped forward. “The Tribe of Rushing Water need our help,” she explained. “The cats who went to the sun-drown-place must go to the mountains.”

Crowfeather looked surprised, and Hollypaw thought maybe she had been too outspoken. “And they want apprentices to come too, do they?” he growled.

Squirrelflight gave his shoulder an affectionate flick with her tail. “Crowfeather, neither of us can complain about apprentices making the journey.” When Crowfeather didn't respond, she went on. “Talon and Night—do you remember them?—came to our camp to fetch Stormfur and Brook. The Tribe is being threatened by a group of invading cats who are trying to take over its hunting grounds. We—I mean Brambleclaw and I—thought we would go and help too.”

Crowfeather paused before replying; Hollypaw couldn't read anything from his expression. “What's it got to do with us?” he asked eventually.

“They helped us on the Great Journey,” Squirrelflight mewed.

“And Feathertail
died
for them!” Crowfeather spat, his blue eyes blazing. “We owe them nothing.”

Feathertail had been a RiverClan cat, Stormfur's sister, who had died on the first journey. None of the other cats seemed to think her death was a reason not to help the Tribe now. Why should Crowfeather take it so personally? Feathertail hadn't even been his Clanmate.

“Feathertail was willing to help the Tribe before,” Squirrelflight replied calmly. “She would help them again. It wasn't the Tribe's fault she died. You can blame Sharptooth for that.”

A shiver ran through Hollypaw and she dug her claws hard into the tough moorland grass. Squirrelflight was talking so matter-of-factly about stories Hollypaw had heard since she was in the nursery! It was as if her mother and father
belonged in a legend. Crowfeather, too, though it was hard for Hollypaw to reconcile the brave warrior, StarClan's chosen, with the suspicious, bad-tempered, skinny cat who stood in front of her.
No wonder Breezepaw is so grumpy. He got it from his father!

“Squirrelflight, greetings.”

Hollypaw whirled to see Whitetail returning with Onestar and Ashfoot, the WindClan deputy. It was Onestar who had spoken; he padded up to Squirrelflight with his head and tail held high.

“Greetings, Onestar.” Squirrelflight dipped her head.

“You're welcome to our camp.” The WindClan leader sounded friendly, though there was surprise in his amber eyes. “What can we do for you?”

Squirrelflight launched into a more detailed explanation of how the Tribe cats had come to ThunderClan looking for help. Crowfeather listened with the same disgruntled expression, while other WindClan cats gathered around. Hollypaw spotted Heatherpaw, and gave her a nod; Breezepaw had reappeared too, standing beside his fellow apprentice.

“So Brambleclaw and I thought that all the cats who went on the first journey should go now and help the Tribe,” Squirrelflight finished. “Brambleclaw has gone to ShadowClan to speak to Tawnypelt, and I came here to tell Crowfeather.”

Onestar narrowed his eyes. “He would be away for a long time, perhaps a moon or more.”

“And I have an apprentice,” Crowfeather reminded him.

“True. All the same, I think you should go,” Onestar meowed. “The Tribe of Rushing Water gave us food and shelter on the Great Journey. Without their help, many cats would have died, and we might never have found this home by the lake. Besides,” he went on, ignoring Crowfeather as he tried to interrupt, “the mountain cats were kind to Tallstar when he was on his last life. We would honor him by helping them now.”

Crowfeather looked taken aback. “But what about Heatherpaw's training?”

“Whitetail can take over as her mentor,” Onestar decided. “She will be without an apprentice, since I think it would be a good idea if Breezepaw went along with you.”

Oh, no!
Hollypaw thought.
You might be fed up with him, but we don't want him either, thanks.

“What?” Breezepaw exclaimed. His eyes stretched wide with dismay.

“You're so lucky!” Heatherpaw put in, with a sigh of envy. “I'd give my tail to go.”

“Well, I don't want to!”

“Don't worry, you'll be coming back,” Hollypaw snapped.

“How do you know that?” Breezepaw's ears flattened and his tail drooped. “I think my Clanmates just want to get rid of me.”

He sounded so miserable that Hollypaw felt a rush of pity for him, but it lasted no more than a couple of heartbeats. Breezepaw had broken the warrior code twice in the last moon; it was time he was taken down a tree branch or two.

Crowfeather padded forward a couple of paces to stand beside Squirrelflight. “It is my choice if I go,” he meowed, with a glance at Onestar. Hollypaw wondered if he was defying his leader, but Onestar didn't rise to the challenge. “And I—I will go. I would like to stand again in the place where Feathertail lies.”

“What about Breezepaw?” Squirrelflight asked.

Crowfeather sighed. “Yes, I suppose he must come too, if Onestar orders it.”

Breezepaw shot his father a sulky look and started tearing up the grass with his claws. Hollypaw thought of her own mother and father; she was glad that they supported her when she wanted to try new things. It didn't look as if Crowfeather and Breezepaw got along at all.
And I can under stand that, sort of
, she thought,
now that I've seen Crowfeather a few times. He's just…weird.

“Do you want Crowfeather and Breezepaw to come with you now?” Onestar asked.

“Yes, please,” Squirrelflight replied. “We thought we would all stay in the ThunderClan camp tonight and set off in the morning. Leafpool is preparing traveling herbs.”

“I want to say good-bye to my friends first,” Breezepaw objected.

“There isn't time!” Crowfeather snapped.

“I'll say good-bye for you.” Heatherpaw darted forward and touched her nose to Breezepaw's shoulder. “And don't worry. You'll have some amazing stories to tell us when you come back.”

Breezepaw didn't look as if the idea cheered him up.

A black she-cat emerged from the group of WindClan cats; Hollypaw recognized Crowfeather's mate, Nightcloud. She brushed her pelt against Crowfeather's. “Take care,” she meowed.

Crowfeather gave her ear a quick lick, but Hollypaw noticed that his eyes were gazing into the distance.

Squirrelflight dipped her head to Onestar and thanked him. Then Crowfeather led the way up the slope and out of the WindClan camp. As they trekked across the moor he still looked sour, and Breezepaw sulked all the way, refusing to talk to Hollypaw even when she tried to be friendly.

I don't think this journey is going to be much fun after all
, Hollypaw thought gloomily.