Yellowpaw gazed from one of her parents to the other, and felt as if her heart would burst with happiness.
“Are we joining a patrol today?” Yellowpaw asked Deerleap.
Two moons had passed since the raid on the Carrionplace, and the air was soft and mild, full of the scents of newleaf. Spikes of fresh green showed at the tips of the pine branches, ferns were uncoiling in the midst of clumps of dead bracken, and birdsong promised prey in the moons to come. Yellowpaw heaved a happy sigh. The forest is so beautiful!
“Not today,” Deerleap replied.
In the last moon she hadn’t been calling Yellowpaw quite so early in the morning; today the rays of the morning sun were already slanting into the camp, driving off the dawn chill. She seems to be slowing down, Yellowpaw thought, realizing with a pang that her mentor was growing old.
“So what are we going to do?” she asked.
“There’s one more task before you can begin your final warrior assessments,” Deerleap told her. “You have to travel to the Moonstone.”
“Yes!” Yellowpaw was so excited that she pushed off with all four paws and gave an enormous leap into the air. Rowanpaw and Nutpaw had already made their apprentice journeys to the Moonstone, and Yellowpaw had begun to fear that her turn would never come. She landed awkwardly from her leap, feeling a hot flush of embarrassment. Deerleap will think I’m behaving like a kit. “When do we leave?” she mewed.
“Right away,” her mentor announced. “Come with me. We need to visit Sagewhisker for traveling herbs.”
“What are they?” Yellowpaw asked as they padded toward the medicine cat’s den.
“Sorrel, daisy, chamomile, and burnet.” Deerleap listed each herb with a twitch of her tail. “They’ll give you strength and stop you from feeling hungry on the way. There won’t be time to hunt.”
When they slipped between the boulders into Sagewhisker’s den, the medicine cat was mixing herbs together with delicate motions of one forepaw. “Here you are,” she meowed, dividing the mixture into two small heaps. “Yellowpaw, the taste is bitter, but it won’t last long.”
Copying Deerleap, Yellowpaw licked up the herbs, chewed, and swallowed. The taste was just as bitter as Sagewhisker had warned her it would be, and she couldn’t help making a face.
“Listen carefully to what StarClan tells you in your dreams,” Sagewhisker prompted. “This could be the moment when you find out your destiny.”
“I already know my destiny,” Yellowpaw mewed. “It’s to be a great ShadowClan warrior!”
Sagewhisker made no comment, just looked at Yellowpaw for a moment longer before she nodded. “Have a safe journey, both of you. May StarClan light your path.”
Deerleap walked through the forest as far as the Thunderpath, then turned to follow it toward the edge of the territory. Yellowpaw wrinkled her nose as the acrid stink of monsters swamped the fresh smells of the forest. The scent of WindClan cats wafted across the Thunderpath from their territory on the far side.
I wonder what those prey-stealers are up to now? At least they haven’t dared to bother us again.
Yellowpaw trotted beside Deerleap as they crossed the ShadowClan border. They soon came to a smaller Thunderpath branching off the main one.
“Do we have to cross this?” she asked her mentor, trying to hide her nervousness. There didn’t seem to be a tunnel underneath like the one they used to get to Gatherings.
Deerleap nodded. “It seems scary when it’s your first time, but you’ll be fine as long as you remember—”
“Look, listen, and scent!” Yellowpaw interrupted, curling her tail up.
“Right.” Deerleap let out a small mrrow of amusement. “You can look for monsters just like you look for prey.”
A distant buzzing sound began as she spoke, growing quickly to a roar, and a glittering red monster swept past them and joined the main Thunderpath. Yellowpaw gagged at the stench that rolled off it in waves.
“Now,” Deerleap mewed when it had gone, “these are the rules for crossing a Thunderpath. Look both ways. Can you see a monster? Listen. Can you hear one? Scent. Is the smell stronger than usual? If the answer to all those questions is no, then it’s safe to cross.”
“I see,” Yellowpaw murmured, still feeling nervous.
“Right. So tell us when to go.”
Yellowpaw stared at her. Me? What if I get us both killed? But Deerleap just angled her ears toward the Thunderpath, clearly waiting.
Standing near the edge of the hard black surface, Yellowpaw worked her claws into the grassy verge. She looked carefully in both directions, noting that the black strip was empty. The only sounds she could hear were the breeze in the branches and the twittering of birds. The tang of the red monster had died away.
“Okay … I think,” she mewed.
“Then go!”
Yellowpaw bounded forward with Deerleap at her side, wincing as her paws landed on the harsh surface of the Thunderpath. Heartbeats later they had reached the safety of a clump of bushes on the other side. Another monster growled its way past as she stood there quivering and trying to get her breath.
“We made it.” Deerleap gave her a nod. “One more thing to remember—once you decide it’s safe, run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”
Yellowpaw was relieved when they left the Thunderpath behind. Beyond it, the land began to rise into moors that reminded her of WindClan territory, covered with the same short, tough grass. But the WindClan scents were fading behind them. With a tingle of excitement in her paws, Yellowpaw realized she was heading into unknown territory, where no Clan cats lived. She felt exposed in the open spaces, without the comforting shelter of pine branches.
Rabbits scampered temptingly across their path, and all Yellowpaw’s instincts yowled at her to give chase. But she knew Deerleap would be annoyed if she broke off their journey to hunt, and the traveling herbs were working so she didn’t feel hungry. This is your lucky day, rabbits, she thought.
Over to one side, beyond the big Thunderpath, she spotted a cluster of Twoleg dens.
“Do we have to go there?” she meowed, remembering what had happened when she went to the Twolegplace with Raggedpelt.
Deerleap shook her head. “We’re heading for those hills,” she replied, pointing with her tail. “Highstones, where the Moonstone is waiting for us.”
Looking ahead, Yellowpaw saw the ground slope upward to a row of crags outlined against the sky. They looked like jagged teeth pushing out of the ground. As the cats climbed higher, the grass underpaw gave way to bare soil strewn with stones, and the slope grew steeper.
My legs have never ached like this before, Yellowpaw complained silently as she toiled upward. What’s wrong with me?
As if her mentor had picked up her thoughts, Deerleap halted. “Let’s rest for a bit.”
She flopped down on a flat stone and Yellowpaw settled beside her, enjoying the sensation of sun-warmed rock on her pads and pelt. Ahead of them the sun was going down, washing the crags with an orange glow.
“I’m very proud of you, Yellowpaw,” Deerleap meowed after a while.
Yellowpaw pricked her ears in surprise; Deerleap hardly ever doled out praise.
“The moons are passing,” Deerleap went on, “and soon it will be my time to join the elders. You will be my last apprentice, and I know that you will become a great warrior.”
Yellowpaw rested her muzzle on the she-cat’s shoulder. “You’ve been a fantastic mentor,” she murmured. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”
Darkness had fallen and Silverpelt was glittering across the sky before Deerleap rose to her paws. “Come,” she meowed. “It’s time.”
The moon was still low in the sky and the rocks cast long shadows as Yellowpaw followed Deerleap up the last steep slope toward the crags. As they drew closer, she spotted a dark hole underneath a rough archway in the rock.
“Is that where we’re going?”
Deerleap nodded. “That’s Mothermouth. It leads to the Moonstone.”
>
A scramble up the final slope, with stones shifting under her paws, brought Yellowpaw to the threshold of Mothermouth. A tunnel led deep into the rock; it was so dark that Yellowpaw couldn’t make out anything beyond the first fox-length. She felt her heart begin to beat faster.
“Follow me,” Deerleap instructed. “You won’t see anything, but you’ll be able to pick up my scent. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I have walked this path many times.” She stepped forward into the tunnel and vanished from Yellowpaw’s sight.
Taking a deep breath, Yellowpaw plunged in after her. The light from the tunnel entrance died away behind her as she padded in her mentor’s paw steps, and she guided herself by her whiskers brushing the rock walls, and by the thin tendril of Deerleap’s scent. The rock beneath her paws was smooth and cold, and the damp air soaked into her pelt and reached deep inside her until she thought she would never be warm again. The tunnel sloped downward, and Yellowpaw tried not to think of the massive weight of rock above her head. It was too easy to imagine it collapsing on top of her, crushing her to nothing.
Then her nose twitched as she felt a fresher scent and the faint movement of air against her whiskers. Tasting the air, she picked up a faint tang of grass and rabbits. She realized that she had stepped out into a larger space.
“This is the cave of the Moonstone,” Deerleap meowed.
“What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
Yellowpaw shivered in the vast darkness. Above her head she could make out a single glimmering warrior of StarClan; she realized there must be a hole in the roof of the cave. But the light was too faint to reach so far into the depths of the earth.
Then, between one heartbeat and the next, a cold, white light flooded down, revealing walls of rock soaring upward for many fox-lengths. Yellowpaw couldn’t hold back a squeal of surprise. In the middle of the cave was a huge rock, many tail-lengths high. The moon was shining through the gap in the roof, making the rock glitter as if all of StarClan was gathered inside it.
“That’s the Moonstone?” she whispered.
Deerleap was a small, dark shape outlined against the light. She nodded. “Lie down and touch the stone with your muzzle,” she mewed.
Yellowpaw settled herself and stretched out her neck to touch her nose to the rough surface of the Moonstone, closing her eyes against the dazzling light.
Instantly claws of cold gripped her. Her lids were closed, but still she saw brilliant starlight whirling around her as she was swept away. She was surrounded by cats, though she couldn’t see any of their faces. Suddenly a voice echoed in her ears: “From this moment on, you will be known as Yellowfang.”
My warrior name! But Yellowpaw’s delight lasted no more than a single heartbeat. Pain surged through her belly, wave after wave of agony, and she realized that she was giving birth to kits. For a brief moment the whirling journey ceased; Yellowpaw curled herself around a throng of tiny bodies, and felt the joy of letting them suckle at her belly.
Then she was snatched away again. Stars fled past her, and she was overwhelmed by a feeling of loss and anger. More fury than she had ever known made her vision blur; she tried to screech out her desolation, but she couldn’t make a sound.
With a bump she found herself in a green glade, with sunlight filtering through the leaves. Home! she thought gratefully, but there were no scents she recognized. The landscape flickered around her, showing her a stream trickling through thick moss, a stretch of flat rocks with crevices between them and a strong prey-scent all around, a narrow ravine, the gnarled roots of an oak tree, the glitter of sunlight on a wide stretch of water. The torrent of images made Yellowpaw feel sick; she tried to break free, but she felt like a drowning kit, helpless to escape from the dream that had her in its grip.
Suddenly, with a jolt that made Yellowpaw feel that she had been hurled off the top of the big ash tree, the images stopped, leaving her in darkness. Opening her eyes, Yellowpaw saw that she was still in the cave of the Moonstone, lying on the floor in the shimmering white light.
Deerleap stood at her side, her claws fastened in Yellowpaw’s shoulder; Yellowpaw realized her mentor must have dragged her away from the stone.
“Wake up, Yellowpaw!” she was calling.
“I—I’m up.” Yellowpaw staggered to her paws, dazed and exhausted. She tried to remember her dream, but it was all a blur of pain, anguish, and confusion. The details were slipping away from her like water through her paws.
“Come. We have to leave,” Deerleap ordered.
Yellowpaw blinked at her mentor. Did I do something wrong? “It was … so weird,” she began. “I felt—”
“There’s no need to talk about it,” Deerleap interrupted. “Follow me quickly.”
She whisked into the mouth of the tunnel and Yellowpaw stumbled after her, emerging thankfully into the cold night air. She felt so exhausted that she didn’t think her paws would carry her all the way back to camp.
“We’ll go down the hill a little way,” Deerleap meowed, sounding more like herself. “Then we’ll rest and hunt before we go home.” As she led the way across the stony slope, she added, “You must never tell any cat what you saw in your dreams.”
I don’t want to! Something struck Yellowpaw. “Did … did you see what I dreamed?”
Deerleap didn’t look at her. “Only medicine cats share what StarClan tells them. Whatever you have seen of your future, use that knowledge wisely, Yellowpaw.”
Disappointment clung to Yellowpaw like mist on her fur, and she felt the first stirrings of fear. At least I know I’m going to be a warrior, right? And after that … She strained her memory but the images from her dream were tumbled together in a blaze of starlight. All she knew was that something was wrong; she didn’t feel excited and joyous the way she thought she would after visiting the Moonstone.
Yellowpaw looked up at the stars, but they seemed cold and remote. Oh, StarClan, what is going to happen to me?
CHAPTER 9
“Yellowpaw, from this time on, you shall be known as Yellowfang. StarClan honors your courage and your intelligence, and we welcome you as a warrior of ShadowClan.”
Trying to keep her poise, even though she was bursting with excitement, Yellowfang bent her head and felt Cedarstar rest his muzzle on it. She licked her leader’s shoulder and took a pace back.
“Yellowfang! Nutwhisker! Rowanberry!” ShadowClan yowled the names of the newly made warriors.
Beside Yellowfang, her brother and sister looked as thrilled as she felt, their eyes shining and their tails straight up in the air.
“Warriors at last!” Nutwhisker chirped. “Sometimes I thought we’d never make it!”
“We’re going to be the best warriors ShadowClan has ever seen,” Rowanberry added.
A warm, prey-laden breeze drifted across the camp, and the hot sun of greenleaf shone down, warming Yellowfang’s pelt. Not a cloud could be seen in the blue sky. What else could I wish for? Yellowfang asked herself. This is a perfect day.
At the front of the cats, Brightflower and Brackenfoot were standing close together, their tails entwined as they beamed proudly at the new warriors. Deerleap gave Yellowfang a nod of warm approval.
Nearby, Foxpaw and Wolfpaw had watched the ceremony with undisguised envy. “We’ll be warriors soon,” Foxpaw announced as the yowls of greeting died away.
Yellowfang ignored her. “Warrior or not, she’ll still be a pain in the tail,” she murmured to Rowanberry, who gave a fervent nod of agreement.
Scorchwind, who had received his warrior name a moon before, shouldered his way through the crowd and gave all three new warriors a condescending nod. “Congratulations,” he meowed. “If you need any tips on how warriors behave, just ask.”
“We’ll do that,” Yellowfang responded. “I’m sure the senior warriors will give us loads of advice.”
Scorchwind twitched his tail and padded to where his brother, Raggedpelt, was standing. Yellowfang felt a familiar stab of disappointment
that Raggedpelt wasn’t even looking at her. He’s ashamed because I was there when his father rejected him. I wish I could tell him that all I feel is anger toward that stupid kittypet! Hal ought to be proud to have a warrior for his son!
But Yellowfang couldn’t think of a way to start that conversation with Raggedpelt. Everything she wanted to tell him would have to remain unsaid.
“Yellowfang?”
Starting at the sound of Sagewhisker’s voice behind her, Yellowfang spun around.
“Congratulations,” the medicine cat meowed. “I hear your hunting assessment was especially good.”
Yellowfang dipped her head. Sagewhisker still wasn’t her favorite cat, but she knew that she had to get past Silverflame’s death and acknowledge Sagewhisker’s status within the Clan.
“Thanks,” she muttered. “I guess I was lucky.”
“Did you dream of serving your Clan as a warrior when you went to the Moonstone with Deerleap?” the medicine cat probed unexpectedly.
For a heartbeat, Yellowfang didn’t know what to say. There was no way she was going to tell Sagewhisker what had happened. “I … uh … don’t really remember what the dream was,” she stammered.
“Really?” Sagewhisker’s gaze was gentle but insistent. “It’s a significant moment, your first Moonstone dream.”
Why can’t she leave it alone? “If I don’t remember, it can’t be that important.” Turning her back on Sagewhisker, Yellowfang joined her littermates beside the fresh-kill pile, where the Clan was getting ready to celebrate the newly made warriors with a feast.
But Yellowfang couldn’t resist glancing back over her shoulder. Sagewhisker was still regarding her with that persistent look, and Yellowfang would have given all her share of the fresh-kill to know what she was thinking.
Yellowfang padded silently across the thick layer of pine needles as she followed Hollyflower, Newtspeck, and Toadskip. The border patrol had left the edge of the Thunderpath and struck out toward the Twolegplace; Yellowfang could make out the walls several fox-lengths away through the trees. Her pads tingled with the unwelcome memory of the night she and Raggedpelt had visited the Twolegplace in search of Raggedpelt’s father. I don’t want to go near the place ever again!