It was comforting to have a full belly when he followed his Clanmates to the edge of the trees and reached the Thunderpath once more. He was still scared as he crouched at the edge of the hard black path, his fur buffeted as the monsters roared past. But it wasn’t quite as terrifying as the night before.
At least we can see the monsters properly, not just their blazing eyes!
Sandstorm stood in the middle of their line, her head turning to and fro as she waited for a gap between the monsters. “When I say ‘run,’” she mewed, “then run as if the whole of ShadowClan were after you, and don’t stop until you get to the other side.”
It seemed a long time to Alderpaw before the roaring of monsters died away and the last of them dwindled into the distance.
“Now!” Sandstorm exclaimed. “Run!”
Alderpaw leaped forward in massive bounds, his paws barely touching the hard surface of the Thunderpath as he raced toward the trees on the other side, Sparkpaw keeping pace next to him. Then the roar of a monster burst upon Alderpaw’s ears, and he heard Sandstorm shriek, “Faster!”
Glancing over, Alderpaw saw the biggest monster yet bearing down on him, looming over him with its jaws gaping. All his instincts told him to freeze in terror, but Sparkpaw barreled into him, forcing him to keep running. The monster passed behind them with a blast of wind, and Alderpaw collapsed, panting, on the grass at the far side of the Thunderpath.
“Great StarClan, that was scary!” Sparkpaw exclaimed.
Alderpaw sat up, panting for breath. “Thanks, Sparkpaw. You saved—”
His sister gave him a hard nudge. “Shut up, stupid furball.”
“We ought to get under cover,” Molewhisker suggested. “The monsters might start throwing things again.”
“Good idea,” Sandstorm agreed.
They trekked through the trees for the rest of the day, as clouds began to gather, casting a gloom over the forest. Wind rustled the upper branches, and a few drops of rain spattered down. Toward evening the sky cleared again, but the air remained chilly. Fluffing up his fur, Alderpaw wished he could look forward to his cozy nest in the apprentices’ den. At least I don’t think we’re being watched anymore. Maybe we lost the creature, whatever it was, back at the Thunderpath.
Eventually they came to a hollow edged by thick holly bushes. There was a small pool of water at the bottom, and all the cats, sore-pawed by now, limped down the slope and lapped gratefully at the water.
“This is as good a place as any to make camp,” Sandstorm meowed. “Alderpaw, you and I will collect bedding while the rest of you hunt.”
Alderpaw felt a pang of regret that he would never be chosen to join the hunters, but quickly set to work collecting leaves, moss, and ferns to make a nest for his Clanmates to share in the shelter of a bush. It was ready, soft and comfortable, by the time the moon had risen and the others returned with a couple of thrushes and several shrews.
“Good night,” Sparkpaw yawned when she had gulped down her share of the prey. “Maybe we’ll find this shadowy thing tomorrow.”
“Oh, no,” Sandstorm responded sleepily. “There’s a long way to go yet.”
Alderpaw burrowed down into the nest with Sparkpaw by his side.
He was almost asleep when he heard the crunching of leaves coming from somewhere among the bushes. He sat up, instantly alert, to see that Sandstorm had heard it, too, while the other three cats were still struggling to their paws. As the crunching sound continued, Alderpaw thought that he could distinguish paw steps.
Sandstorm signaled with her tail for the others to stay where they were. “I’ll check it out,” she whispered.
As cautiously as if she were stalking a mouse, Sandstorm crept out of the nest and headed toward the bushes. She had almost reached them when the night air was split by a ferocious growl.
A strong reek flooded over Alderpaw, and he let out a yowl of fear as a shape hurtled out of the bushes and lunged at Sandstorm. Alderpaw caught the flash of teeth and claws, the gleam of malignant eyes.
“StarClan, no!” Sparkpaw wailed. “I think that’s a fox!”
CHAPTER 11
Alderpaw couldn’t believe how fast the fox was. He watched, stunned, as its wiry body leaped through the air and landed on Sandstorm, its pointed snout burying itself in her fur as its gnashing teeth sank into her shoulder. Sandstorm let out a shrill yowl of pain.
Shaking off his shock, Alderpaw raced forward and flung himself on top of the fox. Snarling, it turned and reared up, throwing Alderpaw off its back. Free of its jaws, Sandstorm rolled away, looking dazed. Blood was pouring from the wound in her shoulder.
“Get out of this!” Alderpaw called to her. “It’s too dangerous—you’re hurt!”
Sandstorm hesitated, sliding out her claws, then reluctantly started dragging herself off to one side.
Alderpaw darted toward the fox again, scoring his claws down its side, then leaping back out of range as it snapped at him. Where are the others? he thought. He gazed around, and his heart pounded even harder as he saw a second fox attacking his other Clanmates, who were defending themselves desperately. They won’t be able to help me, Alderpaw realized, his terror mounting. The night air was full of snarls and yowling and the reek of blood.
Alderpaw’s fox swiped at his face, and he barely managed to duck in time to avoid the blow. The fox lunged at him again; leaping backward, Alderpaw crashed into something hard, and he realized that he was trapped against the trunk of a tree.
The fox growled, claws raking at the ground in front of it. Alderpaw tried to hiss at it in defiance, but the sound came out weak and unthreatening. I wouldn’t even frighten a kit!
Alderpaw braced himself as the fox crouched to spring. But before it could move, a high-pitched cry rang out. In the moonlight Alderpaw saw a whirlwind of fur fly out of the bushes and land right on the fox’s back.
The fox let out a fearsome screech and thrashed back and forth, trying to dislodge the ball of fur from its back. But the furball had dug its claws in and managed to cling on.
It’s a she-cat, Alderpaw realized. Great StarClan, she’s brave! But she’s no match for a fox.
There was no time to wonder who the strange cat was. Throwing himself back into the fight, Alderpaw tried to get his claws into the fox’s throat, but his grip gave way as it shook its head violently. Then he realized that Sparkpaw had joined him, fighting fiercely by his side, slashing at the fox’s shoulder, then darting back out of range.
“Swipe at its eye!” the cat on the fox’s back called out. “Go for its hind leg!”
The strange cat’s voice sounded oddly familiar to Alderpaw, but he had no time to think about that, and in the fitful moonlight he couldn’t see her clearly.
“Whatever you do, don’t let go!” Sparkpaw gasped to her.
“I wasn’t planning to!” The strange cat raked her claws along the fox’s back, while Alderpaw and Sparkpaw kept on attacking from the side, trying to throw the fox off balance.
At last the creature screeched and, with a massive shake, hurled the strange cat off; she went sprawling in a patch of fern. Alderpaw dashed between her and the fox, ready to defend her, but the fox had clearly had enough. It turned tail and ran, while Cherryfall and Molewhisker drove the second fox after it.
For a few heartbeats all the cats stood still, their chests heaving as they fought for breath. Sandstorm was the first to speak. “Is every cat okay?”
“I’m fine,” Alderpaw responded.
“I banged my shoulder on the ground,” Molewhisker mewed. “I think it’ll be stiff tomorrow, but it’s not serious.”
“I’ve just lost a bit of fur,” Cherryfall added.
Alderpaw began sniffing Sparkpaw all over to make sure she was unhurt, though she wriggled under his questing nose. “Honestly, Alderpaw, I’m okay.”
“So am I.” The voice of the strange cat came from behind Alderpaw, and he turned to see her emerging from the clump of ferns where she had fallen.
; “Thanks for your help,” he meowed, and the other cats joined in a chorus of agreement. “I think the fox would have gotten me if it weren’t for—”
Just then the moon came out from behind a cloud, and Alderpaw got a good look at the strange cat for the first time. “Needlepaw!” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”
Needlepaw strolled into the midst of the group of cats and gazed around at them calmly. “Saving you from foxes,” she replied.
“But . . . aren’t you a ShadowClan apprentice?” Cherryfall asked. “Where’s your mentor? What are you doing so far away from home?”
Clearly annoyed at being questioned, Needlepaw gave a defiant flick of her tail. “I was exploring on WindClan territory when I saw you all heading out,” she replied. “I was sure it had something to do with the prophecy, so I followed you.”
“You’re not supposed to be wandering around without your mentor,” Sandstorm scolded her. Her voice was tight with pain from her wound, and Alderpaw knew she needed rest and treatment, not an argument with this ShadowClan cat. “And you’re not supposed to be exploring on WindClan territory.”
“I wasn’t hunting!” Needlepaw retorted. “And I . . .”
Her voice faded to silence at Sandstorm’s green glare. “You’re certainly not supposed to leave Clan territory by yourself, without permission from your Clan leader,” Sandstorm went on. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it is, being out here alone? You’re going to be in a lot of trouble with Rowanstar when you get back.”
Needlepaw returned her glare defiantly but kept her jaws clamped shut.
“Did you really follow us across the Thunderpath?” Molewhisker asked curiously. “It’s very dangerous.”
“Of course I did.” Needlepaw’s voice was scornful. “Thunderpaths are no big deal. I’m not afraid of monsters!”
Alderpaw wondered whether she really meant that, or whether she was just saying it to make herself look tough. Thunderpaths are terrifying!
“Then you’re a mouse-brain,” Molewhisker told her caustically.
“I can take care of myself,” Needlepaw retorted. “Which is more than I can say for the rest of you. Obviously you need my help. I just saved you!”
“You maybe helped save us,” Sparkpaw pointed out, her tail-tip flicking to and fro in irritation. “But you only helped.”
Needlepaw ignored her. “I’m coming with you now,” she announced.
Cherryfall and Molewhisker exchanged an incredulous glance. “No way!” Cherryfall exclaimed.
“Exactly.” Sandstorm’s voice was brusque. “You should go back to your own territory.”
“I’m staying, and you can’t stop me,” Needlepaw meowed, quite undeterred. “I know you’re going to look for the thing in the shadows that the prophecy spoke about. And there’s no way I’m going to let you find it just for ThunderClan. Who’s to say ShadowClan can’t have some of that destiny, too?” Her gaze traveled around the group of cats, and her voice grew urgent; Alderpaw sensed that her desperation was about more than seeking what lies in the shadows. “If I can do anything to help the sky clear for my Clan, then I have to do it.”
Alderpaw felt a pang of sympathy for Needlepaw. If I were in her place, I’d want to make sure the sky cleared for ThunderClan, too. But he was taken aback when Needlepaw swung around and spoke to him directly.
“Alderpaw, you’re a medicine cat. You know about this stuff. What do you think?” Her voice softened into a persuasive purr. “Please let me come.”
Alderpaw felt good to be asked, to know he had this cat’s respect. He knew he shouldn’t like Needlepaw as much as he did. She’s from another Clan, and she breaks rules all the time, and she’s rude about senior warriors . . . but she’s fun, and different, and she’s really good at hunting and fighting. And she always says exactly what she thinks.
“I . . . uh . . . I don’t know,” he stammered uncomfortably. “I’m not sure I—”
“This is Alderpaw’s quest,” Sandstorm broke in, to Alderpaw’s relief. “But even so, he cannot make this decision alone. We must discuss it . . . in private,” she finished with a stern glare at Needlepaw.
“Sure,” Needlepaw mewed, pausing before she gave one paw a nonchalant lick.
She’s not really casual about this, Alderpaw realized. She’d never admit it, but she’s worried about what we’ll decide.
The ThunderClan cats padded off into the shelter of a clump of trees at the edge of the hollow. Alderpaw noticed that Sandstorm was limping, and the wound in her shoulder was still bleeding.
“Are you okay, Sandstorm?” he asked. “I ought to take a look at that wound.”
“I’ll be fine,” Sandstorm responded with a dismissive twitch of her whiskers.
But Alderpaw wasn’t satisfied. “Give the wound a good lick to clean it,” he told Sandstorm as soon as they were settled under the trees. “Sparkpaw, find me some cobweb.”
“Ooh, bossy medicine cat!” Sparkpaw exclaimed. “Have you been taking politeness lessons from Jayfeather?” But she started sniffing around in the undergrowth and soon came back with a pawful of cobweb.
By this time Sandstorm had cleaned her wound. Alderpaw examined it thoroughly, glad to see that the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.
“This is all very well,” Sandstorm meowed as Alderpaw fixed the cobweb in place, “but what are we going to do about Needlepaw? I don’t like the thought of her tagging along with us, but she’s too young to be out on her own, and we can’t just send her back to her own territory without any cat to look after her. It’s not safe!”
“I think you’re right,” Cherryfall agreed.
Molewhisker lashed his tail angrily. “The nosy little cat got herself into this mess,” he growled, “and she should get herself out of it! Cheeky ShadowClan apprentices are not our problem!”
“Well,” Alderpaw began, feeling shy about contradicting a senior warrior, “her nosiness did come in handy when the foxes attacked us.”
Molewhisker grunted. “I suppose so.”
“We would have fought the foxes off eventually,” Sparkpaw meowed. “We don’t need Needlepaw.”
“This is getting us nowhere,” Sandstorm sighed. “Alderpaw, Needlepaw was right about one thing: it’s your quest. What do you think?”
“I don’t agree with Molewhisker and Sparkpaw,” Alderpaw admitted, even though he was reluctant to go against his former mentor, and his sister. “I think Needlepaw should come with us. If we try to send her back,” he added, “she’s just going to ignore us and follow us anyway.”
“Maybe,” Molewhisker snorted, “but that’s no reason to welcome her.”
“Okay,” Sandstorm mewed, “since we can’t agree, I’ll make the final decision. Needlepaw will come with us.”
Sparkpaw and Molewhisker exchanged a disappointed look.
“Fine!” Sparkpaw snapped. “But there’s no way we’re telling her what this quest is really about, right?”
Alderpaw couldn’t meet his littermate’s gaze. Even my own Clanmates don’t know what the quest is really about!
Sandstorm caught his eye. “No, we won’t tell her that,” she murmured.
Rising to their paws, the ThunderClan cats padded back into the hollow to tell Needlepaw their decision. On the way, Alderpaw could hear Cherryfall and Molewhisker muttering just behind him.
“That cat is going to be in a lot of trouble once she gets back to her own territory,” Molewhisker grumbled.
“But that’s not our problem,” Cherryfall responded. “It’s hers!”
While they were away, Needlepaw had obviously been grooming herself, and her sleek silver pelt shone in the growing light of dawn. Alderpaw, still covered in dust and bits of debris from the fox fight, felt very scruffy by contrast.
“We’ve decided to let you join us,” Sandstorm announced.
Needlepaw raised one paw and examined her claws. “Well, of course you have,” she mewed coolly. “It’s not like you could stop me, anyway.”
&
nbsp; Alderpaw’s pelt prickled with irritation at her rudeness, and yet he sensed that Needlepaw was much happier than she was prepared to admit. There’s something sort of . . . lonely about her, he thought.
As the sky began to flush red where the sun would rise, Alderpaw saw Needlepaw’s face more clearly. And he thought he could see in her eyes how pleased she was to be included.
CHAPTER 12
“Sandstorm,” Alderpaw meowed, “now that the sun is up, I want to have a better look at your shoulder.”
The old she-cat sighed. “I was expecting you to say that.”
She stayed still while Alderpaw peeled off the cobweb he had applied the night before. A small amount of blood was still oozing from the wound.
“What can we do to help?” Sparkpaw asked, peering anxiously over his shoulder.
Alderpaw was pleased and relieved that he knew exactly what was needed. Leafpool and Jayfeather would be proud of me.
“Comfrey root,” he replied. “Cherryfall, Molewhisker, could you go and find some? It has large, long leaves. The root is black, and it has a tangy smell.”
“The stuff you put on my pad, right?” Cherryfall asked. “I know exactly what to look for. Come on, Molewhisker.”
“Honestly, it’s not that serious,” Sandstorm protested as the two warriors disappeared into the undergrowth. “I’ll be fine.”
“You still need to let me treat the wound,” Alderpaw responded. “It’s important.”
It felt weird to be telling an elder what to do, and he was glad when Sandstorm gave a reluctant nod. “Meanwhile, give it another good lick,” Alderpaw added. “Then it’ll be ready for the poultice.”
The sun had not risen much farther up the sky by the time Cherryfall and Molewhisker returned, carrying plenty of comfrey. Alderpaw set to work at once, chewing up the root, and once it was a fine enough paste he applied it to Sandstorm’s wound. Sandstorm relaxed, letting out a long sigh, as the juices sank in.
“That feels so much better,” she murmured.
“Now the rest of you,” Alderpaw meowed.