Warriors Super Edition: Yellowfang’s Secret (13 page)

Yellowpaw joined him, hearing more yowling from the Twoleg as she leaped, and the two cats stopped, panting.

“What are you doing here, strangers?”

The low growl came out of the darkness. Yellowpaw and Raggedpelt spun around, looking for the cat who had spoken. A moment later a huge ginger tom paced forward into the light from the den. He was wearing a collar, but his muscles rippled as he walked, and a torn ear showed that he had experienced at least one fight. There was a hostile gleam in his eyes.

Yellowpaw gulped.
That’s a kittypet?

Two more cats appeared from the darkness, flanking the ginger tom. One of them was what Yellowpaw had always pictured when she thought of kittypets: a fluffy white she-cat wearing a collar with a bell on it. The other was smaller and scrawny, with a badly groomed russet pelt. The softness of her features showed that she was barely out of kithood.

“You come from the forest, don’t you?” the fluffy cat mewed. Her tone was sharp. “You’re not welcome here.”

Yellowpaw forgot all her plans to ask clever questions. “We’re looking for a tom who might have known a forest cat called Featherstorm,” she blurted out.

The scrawny russet she-cat let out a hiss. “You have no right to ask us about anything!”

“Hang on a moment, Red.” The big ginger tom narrowed his eyes. “Maybe we should let them ask their questions.” His glittering gaze passed from Yellowpaw to Raggedpelt and back again. “That’s the best way to get rid of them. Otherwise, they’ll be back.”

Red looked furious. “Honestly, Marmalade, you’ll be making friends with dogs next! Why don’t we just chase them off with a scratch or two to remember us by?”

“We might not be the only cats to get scratched,” Raggedpelt growled, sliding out his claws.

“That’s enough!” The white she-cat raised her tail. “If we let you ask a question, will you leave?”

Instead of answering, Raggedpelt turned to Yellowpaw. “Is it worth asking?” he mewed.

“Don’t you want to know the truth?” Yellowpaw asked.
He can’t give up now; we’ve come this far!

“Are you going to stand there arguing?” Red asked scathingly. “Or are you coming with us?”

“We’re coming,” Yellowpaw decided.

The huge ginger tom leaped onto the fence at the far side of the enclosed space. Joining him, Yellowpaw saw that a narrow alley lay beyond, with a high wall of red stone at the other side. There was a strong smell of crow-food.

As she paused at the top of the fence, the white she-cat gave her a push. “Get a move on.”

Yellowpaw lost her balance and fell ungracefully into the alleyway, barely managing to twist herself in midair so that she landed paws first.

“Well done, Pixie.” Red’s voice was cold as she looked down from the fence. “Show them who’s in charge.”

Marmalade led them along the alley. The wooden fence gave way to another wall of red stone; Yellowpaw’s heart raced; she felt as though she was padding along at the bottom of a crevasse. Eventually the alley led into an open space surrounded by shabby Twoleg dens. The reek of crow-food was joined by other scents: monsters and a smell that reminded Yellowpaw of a blackened stump in the forest that Deerleap told her had been struck by lightning moons ago.

Yellowpaw blinked as she spotted movement and the gleam of eyes in the shadows.
There are other cats here!

“Just think!” she whispered, turning to Raggedpelt. “You might be about to meet your father!”

Raggedpelt didn’t reply, but his eyes were troubled, and Yellowpaw could feel his pelt bristling against hers.

The three kittypets crowded around Yellowpaw and Raggedpelt, urging them into the middle of the open space. At the same time, more cats began slinking out from the shadows. Some of them were wearing collars, but others looked more like rogues, with skinny bodies and flea-bitten pelts. Yellowpaw was uncomfortably aware that they were way outnumbered if it came to a fight.

“These are cats from the forest,” Marmalade announced. “They want to ask some questions.”

“Hi.” Yellowpaw felt hot and uncomfortable to be the focus of so many staring eyes. “I’m Yellowpaw, and this is Raggedpelt. We come from ShadowClan,” she ended proudly.

“Never heard of it,” a black she-cat sniffed.

“Are you really from the forest?” A gray tom padded up to Yellowpaw and her Clanmate, sniffing at them. “Yeah, you smell of trees.”

“Get away from them, Boulder,” Pixie snarled, giving the gray tom a shove.

“But I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live beyond the fence,” Boulder protested.

“Sit down and be quiet.” The gray tom was interrupted by a black-and-white she-cat, so old that her muzzle was grizzled and all her teeth had gone. Yellowpaw tried not to stare.
She looks even older than our elders!
“No one wants to listen to you meowing nonstop about the forest,” the old cat hissed at Boulder.

Boulder sat down, looking annoyed. Yellowpaw guessed that the old cat was some kind of leader, though this collection of cats didn’t look at all like a Clan.
Maybe they look up to her because she’s so old
.

She spotted a black she-cat rolling her eyes, and heard her whisper to Boulder, “Don’t let Jay worry you. She’s just a bossy old furball.”

“Questions, you said?” the old cat, Jay, rasped. “All right, you can ask
one
. Let’s hear it.”

Raggedpelt nudged Yellowpaw. “I told you this was a dumb idea. Let’s go.”

“No!” Yellowpaw gave Raggedpelt a furious glare. “One question is all it will take. We’re looking for a cat who knew a forest cat called Featherstorm,” she continued. “We—”

“Speak up, can’t you?” Jay twitched her tail irritably. “I don’t know what’s the matter with you young cats. You all mumble into your fur.”

“Sorry.” Yellowpaw raised her voice. “A cat who knew Featherstorm?”

A small tabby-and-white she-cat flinched as Yellowpaw spoke the name, but she didn’t say anything. Jay shook her head, and all the other cats did the same.

Raggedpelt looked discouraged. “I guess that’s it, then,” he mewed.

Marmalade stepped forward. “You got your answer. You can leave now.”

Pixie and Red padded up to join them again.

“We don’t need an escort,” Raggedpelt snapped.

“We aren’t offering one.” Marmalade slid out his claws. “I said
now
.”

The other Twolegplace cats were gathering behind Marmalade. Yellowpaw could see the hostility in their eyes and the anger in their bristling fur. “It’s time we went,” she muttered.

Raggedpelt’s fur was bristling too, and he drew back his lips in a snarl. “No kittypet tells me what to do.”

“Mouse-brain! There’s no point in spilling their blood.” Yellowpaw shoved his shoulder hard. “What are you going to prove by fighting kittypets? Run!”

To her relief, Raggedpelt spun around and raced back down the alley, the way they had come. Yellowpaw followed; glancing back she saw Marmalade and more of the Twolegplace cats hard on their paws.

“Faster!” she gasped.

But as they came into sight of the first Twoleg fence, Marmalade and the others dropped back. “Stay away in the future!” Marmalade yowled after them.

Just as Yellowpaw bunched her muscles to leap up onto the fence, a voice from the shadows called, “Wait!”

Yellowpaw turned to see the small she-cat who had flinched at the mention of Featherstorm’s name. She was beckoning with one paw, her green eyes wide and nervous.

“What do you want?” Raggedpelt growled.

“There is a cat you need to speak to,” the she-cat replied. “Follow me.”

Raggedpelt exchanged a glance with Yellowpaw. “It might be a trap,” he murmured. “Why should she help us?”

“So that you’ll stay away,” the she-cat replied. “We want nothing to do with wild cats like you.”

“We have to risk it,” Yellowpaw insisted. “We have to know the truth!”

Raggedpelt hesitated a moment more, then shrugged. “Okay. But I still think we both have bees in our brain.”

The she-cat led the way around a corner and down another alley. “There was a forest cat hanging around here a while ago,” she meowed. “Her name might have been Featherstorm. I haven’t seen her for ages, though.”

Frustrated at coming so close to the information she needed, Yellowpaw slid out her claws. She didn’t mean to be threatening, but the she-cat gave her a glance of alarm.

“That cat had nothing to do with me,” she mewed defensively. She nodded toward the shadows between two Twoleg dens. “Hal knew her better than any of us. Ask him.”

Yellowpaw turned to see a pair of amber eyes gleaming in the darkness. She beckoned with her tail to Raggedpelt, who padded over to her. Meanwhile the small she-cat darted away, scrambled over a wall, and was gone.

Hal blinked as Yellowpaw and Raggedpelt approached. It was so dark, it was impossible to tell what color he was. “I heard what she said,” he began, before they asked him anything. “I never knew a cat called Featherstorm. I have nothing to do with forest cats.”

Yellowpaw could see that Hal was a kittypet; his collar gleamed as he shifted in the shadows.

“Okay, sorry we bothered you,” Raggedpelt responded, turning away.

Yellowpaw was following when instinct told her to glance back. Hal had emerged from the shadows and was slinking away along the line of Twoleg dens. Yellowpaw froze. The kittypet was a dark brown tabby, and except for the fact that his shoulders were broader and his muscles more filled out, he was the exact image of Raggedpelt.

“Wait!” Yellowpaw yowled, running after him. “You must have known Featherstorm! Look—this is your son!”

Hal turned back, his amber eyes growing cold. For a heartbeat he looked Raggedpelt up and down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snarled. “I have no son.”

“But just look at him—” Yellowpaw began, waving her tail at Raggedpelt. Hal simply spun around and began padding away.

“We have to go,” Raggedpelt interrupted. His voice was like ice. “This was a mouse-brained idea. We should never have come here.”

“Yellowpaw! Yellowpaw!”

Deerleap’s voice broke into a dream where Yellowpaw was searching through the forest, though she couldn’t remember what she was hunting for. It was a huge effort to open her eyes. When she tried to sit up, every muscle in her body shrieked with fatigue, and her paws were aching.

What’s the matter with me?
Then the events of the night before came flooding back into her mind. She and Raggedpelt had visited the Twolegplace, and dawn wasn’t far off by the time they returned to their nests.

And it was a disaster!

“Yellowpaw!” Deerleap called again, sounding more impatient this time.

Yellowpaw heaved herself out of her bedding. The other apprentices were stirring around her, looking bright-eyed and energetic.

“Where did you go last night?” Rowanpaw hissed. “I woke up and you weren’t in your nest.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yellowpaw muttered as she struggled out of the den.

Outside Stonetooth was surrounded by a larger group of cats than usual. Even though she was so tired, Yellowpaw felt a tingle of excitement.

“What’s happening?” she asked Deerleap.