Read Outcast Page 7


  “That’s okay,” Stormfur meowed. “I know what you meant. It’s true that I’m only a visitor here, however loyal I feel toward Firestar and your father and the other ThunderClan cats.”

  “Where do you feel most at home?” Lionpaw mewed curiously. “In RiverClan, or with the Tribe of Rushing Water, or in ThunderClan?”

  Stormfur didn’t reply at once. His eyes grew thoughtful; he licked one paw and drew it over his ear a few times. “I’m a RiverClan cat at heart,” he replied at last. “That’s where I grew up and where I became a warrior. But that was back in the forest, and no cat has a home there now. Right now I feel loyal to ThunderClan, because you welcomed me and Brook. And it’s good to live in the same Clan as Graystripe and get to know him better.”

  “Will you stay here forever?”

  “I don’t know. This isn’t Brook’s home, and if she doesn’t want to stay, I won’t force her.”

  “Why don’t you go back to the mountains, then?”

  A somber look crept into Stormfur’s eyes. “It’s not that easy.”

  “You could go for a visit,” Lionpaw suggested.

  “No, it’s too far,” Stormfur mewed briskly. He rose to his paws and gave his fur a shake. “Come on, it’s time we were going back to camp.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Lionpaw saw that the training session was over. Ashfur and the other apprentices were heading toward the stone hollow. There was no sign of Berrynose.

  “You go ahead,” he meowed to Stormfur. “I’ll be back in a while.”

  “Okay.” Stormfur bounded off to catch up with Ashfur and the others.

  “Thanks, Stormfur!” Lionpaw called after him.

  Stormfur waved his tail in reply as he vanished into the bushes.

  Lionpaw turned and padded into the trees in the opposite direction from the camp. He paused to make sure that Stormfur really had gone, then picked up the pace until he was racing toward the WindClan border. Panting, he halted at the edge of the stream, looking across the open moorland. The sun was going down, washing the surface of the lake with scarlet and throwing his long shadow to one side. Lionpaw enjoyed the warmth of its rays and the gentle breeze that ruffled his fur.

  But the landscape ahead of him looked bleak and unwelcoming. There was no cover, no soft moss, no undergrowth where prey could hide. Lionpaw knew he could never live in WindClan. He would miss the trees: He could hear them now, just behind him, the faint creak of branches and the rustle of their leaves in the wind. He could never have given that up, however much he loved Heatherpaw.

  And she could never have lived in ThunderClan, he realized. She felt trapped under the trees; she loved the open moorland, the tough, springy grass and the wild dash across the slopes in pursuit of rabbits. Stormfur must really have loved Brook, to give up his home and stay with her in the mountains.

  Lionpaw raised his head and gazed into the distance. He could just make out a dark, misty band on the horizon, where the mountains lay. Brook had pointed it out to him once, on a border patrol; he wondered if she felt her paws tugging her toward it.

  What do the mountains look like? he wondered. All his life he had heard about the Great Journey and the territories the Clans had crossed to find their new home by the lake.

  Lionpaw felt his paws itching to explore. He longed to discover what lay beyond ThunderClan’s borders, beyond all the Clans’ borders. The world was so wide, and he had seen so little of it. There was so much out there, beyond the reach of the warrior code, beyond the knowledge even of the medicine cats and elders.

  It was hard to wrench his paws away from the border and start padding back toward the camp. It’s as though the mountains are calling me….

  But how could he ever answer the call?

  CHAPTER 7

  “I’ve got a plan,” Hollypaw announced. She and Cinderpaw had cleared the old bedding out of the elders’ den and were clawing fresh moss from around the roots of an oak tree. Shreds of mist drifted among the trees, while overhead the sun was struggling to break through a covering of cloud.

  Cinderpaw stopped with her claws deep in the soft green covering. “What plan?”

  “It’s about becoming a warrior.” Hollypaw left the ball of moss she was gathering and padded over to sit on a twisted root beside her friend. “It’s so confusing, learning about fighting and hunting and all the stuff about the warrior code. I can’t think of everything at once, so I’m going to concentrate on one thing at a time.”

  Cinderpaw blinked. “I don’t get it.”

  Hollypaw sighed; it seemed straightforward enough to her. “I’m going to start with hunting. If a Clan isn’t well fed, it can’t defend its borders and fight battles. I’ll practice and practice until I’m really good at it. Then I’ll go on to something else.”

  Her friend started clawing up the moss again. “I think that sounds mouse-brained,” she mewed. “I mean, you can’t stop doing everything else, can you? Are you going to leave me to finish the bedding while you go off looking for prey?”

  Hollypaw swiped out a paw, claws sheathed, just missing Cinderpaw’s ear. “No, of course I’m not. I know I’ll have to do duties and training sessions and all that. But I’m going to concentrate on hunting.”

  Cinderpaw let out a faint snort of amusement. “I’d like to hear what Brackenfur has to say if he thinks you’re not concentrating on fighting.”

  Exasperated, Hollypaw snagged up a bit of moss and tossed it at her friend. She expected Cinderpaw to toss some back at her, but instead the young she-cat stopped what she was doing and looked up at her, blue eyes serious.

  “Honestly, Hollypaw, I don’t think this is a good idea. Being a warrior means you have to do everything together. You can’t put stuff in order. I know I’m not explaining it very well, but—”

  “No, you’re not,” Hollypaw snapped, then stopped herself. Cinderpaw was her best friend, and she didn’t want to quarrel with her. “Sorry, Cinderpaw,” she went on. “I just think this will be a way that will work for me. You don’t have to join in if you don’t want to.”

  Cinderpaw reached up to touch Hollypaw’s nose with her ear. “It’s okay. And you know I’ll help if I can.”

  By the time Hollypaw and Cinderpaw had finished refreshing the elders’ bedding, Thornclaw and Brackenfur were gathering the apprentices together in the middle of the clearing.

  “Are we hunting?” Hollypaw asked eagerly.

  It was Thornclaw who replied. “No, Cloudtail and I are taking our apprentices to the mossy clearing for some advanced battle training. You and Lionpaw can come along and watch.”

  “And join in if you want to,” Brackenfur added.

  Cinderpaw gave an excited little bounce. “Let’s go!”

  Her mentor, Cloudtail, padded up behind her and flicked her on the shoulder with his tail. “You be careful of that leg. If I’m asking too much of you, I want to know.”

  Cinderpaw’s excitement faded. “My leg’s fine, Cloudtail. It won’t hold me back from being a warrior, will it?”

  “I hope not. We’ll have to see,” was Cloudtail’s discouraging response.

  Hollypaw pressed her muzzle against Cinderpaw’s. “Don’t worry. You will be a warrior. I just know it.”

  Ashfur came padding over with Lionpaw from the apprentices’ den. “Are we all ready?” the gray warrior asked. “Where’s Honeypaw?”

  “Sandstorm took her on a hunting patrol,” Brackenfur replied. “She’ll join us later.”

  The clouds had cleared away and the sun was burning up the mist. In the shadow of the trees the grass was still laden with dew. Hollypaw brushed past a clump of fern and flicked her ears as droplets fell on her head. The undergrowth was full of exciting scents and sounds; she longed to put her plan into practice on a hunting patrol, instead of going to a training session when she would have to spend most of her time watching.

  With four apprentices and their mentors, the clearing was crowded. Hollypaw sat in a sunny spot at one side with Brackenfur.
Lionpaw and Ashfur were a couple of tail-lengths away. Hollypaw tried to hide a yawn as Cloudtail and Thornclaw demonstrated a move to the two older apprentices: Cloudtail leaped into the air with a twist so that he came down on Thornclaw’s shoulders.

  “Now you try,” he invited Cinderpaw.

  Cinderpaw crouched to face her mentor and launched herself into the air. She got the twist right, but she hadn’t leaped high enough, so that instead of landing on Cloudtail’s shoulders she blundered clumsily into his side, and he pinned her down with one paw on her chest.

  “Not bad for a first try,” he commented, letting her get up, “but you need more strength in that leap. Is your leg bothering you?”

  Cinderpaw blinked. “No, it’s fine. I’ll get it right next time.”

  “And don’t forget,” Thornclaw added, “in a real fight your enemy won’t stand still and wait for you to land on him. You’ve got to anticipate his next move.”

  “Let me have a try,” Poppypaw meowed.

  As the training session went on, Hollypaw noticed that Lionpaw was fidgeting. “I can do that,” he told Ashfur. “Can I try it?”

  Ashfur hesitated. “It’s advanced stuff,” he pointed out. “There’s no point in trying before you’re ready.”

  “I am ready,” Lionpaw insisted, his fur starting to fluff up.

  Ashfur shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Hollypaw watched nervously as Lionpaw and his mentor moved out into the clearing, well away from the other practice session.

  “Go on, then, show me,” Ashfur mewed.

  Lionpaw leaped into the air, sunlight turning his golden pelt to flame. With all four paws off the ground he twisted and came down perfectly balanced on Ashfur’s shoulders. Ashfur let out a grunt of surprise, while Hollypaw stared in astonishment. How had Lionpaw learned how to do that move so perfectly?

  “See?” Lionpaw challenged his mentor as he leaped to the ground. “Now will you be a bit tougher on me?”

  “You want tough?” There was the hint of a growl in Ashfur’s voice, and his blue eyes gleamed. “Be careful what you wish for, Lionpaw.”

  Hollypaw felt the fur on her shoulder begin to rise. Was Ashfur joking?

  “I can cope with anything,” Lionpaw insisted.

  Ashfur leaped on Lionpaw, landing a hard blow on his ear. Lionpaw rolled to one side, raking his hind paws down Ashfur’s flank. A heartbeat later he was back on his paws, leaping into the air and landing on his mentor’s shoulders in the move Cloudtail had just demonstrated. Ashfur reared up on his hind paws, shaking off Lionpaw; Hollypaw winced at the thud as her brother hit the ground. Instantly his mentor jumped on top of him and the two cats wrestled together in a screeching tangle of fur, rolling closer to the other apprentices.

  Poppypaw had to dodge to one side to avoid them. Thornclaw curled his tail around her shoulders and drew her to the side of the clearing. Cloudtail and Cinderpaw joined them, their training session forgotten as they stared at the furious battle.

  Ashfur was fighting as if Lionpaw was a warrior—but so was Lionpaw! Hollypaw watched in amazement as he bit down on Ashfur’s tail, then jerked it hard so that Ashfur was unbalanced and fell on his side. She’d seen Berrynose and his littermates practicing that move just before they were made warriors; she hadn’t expected to learn it for at least another moon.

  Hollypaw stiffened as she saw flecks of scarlet on Ashfur’s gray pelt. Lionpaw would get into big trouble for fighting with claws unsheathed! Then she noticed that her brother was bleeding, too. Ashfur’s blue eyes were blazing with fury, as if he’d forgotten this wasn’t a real battle.

  “They’re hurting each other!” She turned to Brackenfur. “Can’t you make them stop?”

  Before Brackenfur could do anything, Ashfur launched himself on top of Lionpaw and held him down with both forepaws on his chest. “Was that tough enough for you?” he panted.

  But Lionpaw wouldn’t give in. He went on battering at Ashfur’s belly with his hind paws, twisting from side to side in an effort to throw off the heavier cat. Ashfur raised his paw, aiming a blow at Lionpaw’s ear.

  “That’s enough.” Brackenfur bounded forward, his voice sharp with shock. “Ashfur, let him up. Lionpaw, sheathe your claws. This bout is over.”

  Ashfur turned his head to glare at Brackenfur. The blaze in his blue eyes faded and he stepped back. Lionpaw scrambled to his paws, while Brackenfur thrust himself between them in case the fight broke out all over again. Lionpaw’s chest heaved as he fought for breath. The fur on one shoulder was torn and blood was welling out of the scratches; Hollypaw could see the marks of Ashfur’s claws down his side.

  But Ashfur was bleeding too, from one ear and a hind leg. After a heartbeat to catch his breath, he meowed loudly, “Well done, Lionpaw. You fought like a warrior.” Looking around, he added, “I hope the rest of you were watching. You should all be trying to be as good as Lionpaw.”

  Cinderpaw and Poppypaw exchanged glances; they both looked too shocked to say anything. Even Hollypaw couldn’t bring herself to congratulate her brother. The way the practice session had turned savage had disturbed her.

  “Come on.” Ashfur beckoned to Lionpaw with his tail. “That was so good, you don’t have to do any more training. We’ll go back to camp, and you can have first pick of the fresh-kill pile.”

  “Thanks, Ashfur!” Lionpaw was recovering now, his breathing easier and his fur beginning to lie flat again.

  “I’ll tell Firestar, too,” his mentor added. “ThunderClan will have a warrior to be proud of when you finish your apprenticeship.”

  Lionpaw’s amber eyes glowed. He padded off beside Ashfur with his head and tail held high. No cat spoke until they had disappeared into the undergrowth, heading for the camp.

  Then Cloudtail puffed out his breath as if he’d been holding it. “Right. Let’s see what the rest of you can do.”

  “Are you going to fight us like that?” Poppypaw asked nervously.

  It was Brackenfur who replied. “Certainly not.” His fur was still ruffled, Hollypaw could tell, either by the ferocity of the fight or by how well her brother had fought. “We’ll just go on practicing the techniques. And we’ll all keep our claws sheathed.”

  Hollypaw joined in, but she found it hard to concentrate. She could still see in her mind the blaze of rage in Ashfur’s eyes, as if he’d forgotten he was fighting his own apprentice.

  When the training session was over, Hollypaw ran back to camp ahead of the other apprentices. She wanted to make sure her brother was okay.

  She found Lionpaw asleep in their den, half buried in a nest of moss and bracken. He was breathing deeply and didn’t stir when Hollypaw padded up and sniffed the wound on his shoulder. The bleeding had stopped; dried blood was crusted around the scratches and the fur was torn loose and bloodstained. Obviously he hadn’t been to Leafpool to have the wound checked out.

  “Mouse-brain,” Hollypaw murmured affectionately.

  Lionpaw still didn’t stir as she rasped her tongue over his shoulder until the wound was clean. It wasn’t surprising that he was exhausted. Hollypaw touched her nose gently to his ear and left him to sleep. Pushing her way out through the brambles, she spotted her father by the fresh-kill pile.

  “Hi,” Brambleclaw meowed. “I’m getting a hunting patrol together. Do you want to come?”

  Earlier that morning Hollypaw would have jumped at the chance, but now she had more important things on her mind. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she began, launching into the story of Lionpaw’s fight with Ashfur. “I don’t think Ashfur should have pushed Lionpaw that hard,” she finished. “I thought they were going to tear each other apart!”

  Brambleclaw let out a soothing purr. “You don’t need to worry. I met Ashfur in the forest, and he told me all about it. He’s really pleased with Lionpaw.” His eyes narrowed, half in amusement, half embarrassment. “He told me Lionpaw’s going to make a warrior like his father. I assume that was a compliment.”
r />
  Hollypaw raked her claws in the ground in frustration. “But you didn’t see it,” she protested. “It was really scary.”

  Brambleclaw’s tail tip flicked. “Fighting is scary,” he pointed out. “If we have to fight another Clan, they won’t sheathe their claws.”

  “But we’re not fighting another Clan now.”

  “Sooner or later there will be a battle, and we have to be ready for it. One day Lionpaw will need all his skills. I’m proud of him. I’m proud of all my kits: Lionpaw is a brilliant fighter, Leafpool tells me Jaypaw knows all the herbs already….”

  “And what about me?” Hollypaw asked, trying to push down a pang of jealousy. Aren’t I special too?

  Brambleclaw leaned over to give her ear a comforting lick. “You’re my little thinker,” he purred. “I rely on you to make the best decisions—and to keep your brothers in line!”

  Hollypaw brightened. That was a skill she would need if she was ever to be Clan leader.

  “Good,” Brambleclaw mewed. “Now, what about this hunting patrol?”

  “But why can’t Berrynose come?” Honeypaw complained.

  “Because he’s the most annoying furball in the forest,” Hollypaw muttered through gritted teeth, though not loud enough for her friend to hear her.

  Sandstorm and Honeypaw had joined Brambleclaw and Hollypaw on the hunting patrol. Honeypaw hadn’t arrived at the training session until it was almost over, and she had kept trying to tell every cat how much better Berrynose could perform the fighting techniques. Now Hollypaw was finding it hard to sense prey, because her fellow apprentice was still meowing on about the cream-colored warrior.

  “Berrynose was on the dawn patrol,” Sandstorm explained, with more patience than Hollypaw could have mustered. “He deserves a rest.”

  “But we’d catch much more if he was with us,” Honeypaw insisted. “He’s a brilliant hunter.”