He stalked the thrush as it fluttered deeper into the forest; then, keeping two trees back, he scrambled up the trunk of a beech tree and out onto a branch. He tried to remember everything he had been taught before he’d been told he was a terrible hunter and would be much better off as a medicine cat.
Best not to think about that, he decided. It’s just a small bird. I can do this.
Creeping forward stealthily, Alderpaw managed to cross into the tree where the thrush was perching. It seemed to be unaware of him. He was bunching his muscles to pounce when another cat exploded upward from the forest floor in a massive leap. Its forepaws were outstretched to grab the bird, but it missed by a mouse-length. With a yowl of rage the cat fell backward, tumbling back to the ground. The thrush, startled, flew away.
“Fox dung!” Alderpaw hissed.
The strange cat—a ragged, skinny gray tom—scrambled to his paws and glared up at Alderpaw. “It’s your fault I missed it!” he snarled. “Didn’t you see I was already stalking it? You made me rush.”
But Alderpaw had forgotten all about the thrush. Now that he got a clear sight of the newcomer, he was too stunned to do anything but stare. This is one of the cats from my vision!
He remembered seeing the gray tom in the circle of cats who had watched the ceremony when Leafstar had made a new warrior. But then he had been a healthy Clan cat with a glossy pelt. Now he looked just like a mangy rogue, all his ribs showing through matted fur.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name’s Mistfeather,” the cat replied roughly. “What’s it to you?”
Cautiously, never taking his gaze from the gray tom, Alderpaw climbed down the tree trunk. Keeping his distance so that Mistfeather wouldn’t think he was looking for a fight, he dipped his head politely.
“Greetings,” he mewed. “I’m sorry about the thrush. My name is Alderpaw, and I come from ThunderClan.”
The gray tom’s eyes widened in a mixture of wonder and disbelief. “ThunderClan!” he exclaimed. “Then you must know Firestar. I wasn’t born when he came to restore my Clan, but his story was told at every full moon upon the Skyrock. We honored him above all cats.”
Alderpaw felt as if every hair on his pelt was rising in excitement. He opened his jaws to tell Mistfeather that Firestar was dead, then decided this wasn’t the moment. Instead he asked, “Were you exiled from your Clan?”
The gray tom stared back at him. “Was I exiled?” he asked, bitterness invading his tone. “No, I wasn’t. It was the whole Clan!”
“What do you mean?” Alderpaw asked, staring at him incredulously.
Mistfeather beckoned him nearer with a twitch of his tail. Alderpaw sat among the roots of the tree where he had stalked the thrush, and the gray tom crouched close beside him.
“You’ve met those cats in the gorge, right?” Mistfeather began. “I bet they let you think they were SkyClan, but they’re not. They’re vicious rogues who attacked the real SkyClan and took our territory for themselves.”
Alderpaw’s first reaction was a profound relief. I knew there was something wrong about those cats. They’re not a Clan at all! No wonder they don’t know how to behave! But he was also surprised to hear that such a terrible fate had come to SkyClan. Is this what my visions were trying to tell me? That SkyClan has been exiled and needs my help?
“Where did the rogues come from?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” Mistfeather replied. “And I have no idea what rules they follow—if they follow any at all. They’re evil!”
In the wake of his relief, doubts began to creep into Alderpaw’s mind. “Surely a whole Clan should have been able to fight them off?”
Mistfeather couldn’t meet his gaze; his whiskers drooped in shame. “Times had been hard for us, and to tell you the truth, we had as many daylight-warriors as we did cats who lived all the time in the gorge.”
“Daylight-warriors?” Alderpaw asked, mystified.
“Cats who came to hunt and train with us warriors during the day,” Mistfeather explained. “Then at night they would go back to their Twolegs.”
“You mean they were kittypets?” Alderpaw was so outraged that he could hardly get the words out. “You let kittypets into your Clan?”
“It worked for us,” Mistfeather mewed defensively. “And the daylight-warriors were brave and worthy Clanmates, but the rogues attacked at night when they were with their housefolk, so we were terribly outnumbered.”
“And the rogues won.”
Mistfeather nodded. “We were trying to protect one another, not kill our enemies, and it’s easy to defeat cats who do that.”
“So where did the rest of your Clan go?” Alderpaw asked, glancing around as if he expected more cats to emerge from the undergrowth.
“I don’t know,” Mistfeather told him. “We all scattered. I’m the only one left here, and I have no idea how many of the others survived, or where they might be.”
“Why did you stay?”
Deep grief flooded into Mistfeather’s amber eyes. “My mate was killed in the battle. I decided that I’d rather live as a loner in the place where she died than leave to look for new territory.”
Alderpaw’s heart clenched with pity and fury. Everything makes sense now! Guilt tore at him like a fox’s fangs as he realized that his vision had been real. SkyClan had needed help, but he and his friends had come too late.
“That’s why the cats in the gorge don’t act like a Clan,” he murmured half to himself. “It’s because they’re not a Clan. They’re just rogues who pounced on a group of cats when they were vulnerable. They’re no better than thieves.”
“What do you know about it?”
The harsh voice came from behind Alderpaw; he sprang up and whirled around to see Darktail standing a fox-length away, a sneer on his face. His unsettling blue gaze showed almost no emotion as he regarded Alderpaw and Mistfeather.
“It seems you’ve met one of the dregs of the gorge,” he meowed to Alderpaw. “Somehow he’s still alive! And it sounds like you’re plotting against my cats.”
Alderpaw backed away until he had the trunk of the tree behind him. His gaze flickered to and fro, hoping that some of his Clanmates might be nearby. But there was no sound or scent of them. In the dark shadows cast by the trees, Darktail seemed to be twice his size. I’ll have to think fast to get out of this.
But weariness and hunger seemed to have made Mistfeather mouse-brained. Lurching to his paws, he arched his back and hissed at Darktail. “You’re a filthy rogue who stole territory!”
“Territory belongs to those strong enough to defend it—or to take it,” Darktail pointed out, unmoved. “If SkyClan couldn’t dig their claws into the land they claimed as theirs, they have nothing to complain about. And if you want to stake your claim, Mistfeather, do you want to fight me for the territory right here, right now?”
Alderpaw’s outrage almost choked him. Can’t Darktail see that Mistfeather is in no state to fight any cat?
But the exiled cat puffed up his fur and slid out his claws, drawing his lips back in a snarl. “Do your worst, Darktail!”
Alderpaw started forward to place himself between the two cats, but Mistfeather waved him back with a sweep of his tail.
“Stay back!” he hissed. “A fight is a fight.”
No, it’ll be a slaughter, Alderpaw thought, as reluctantly he stepped back.
Mistfeather lunged forward, aiming a blow at Darktail, but the rogue leader slipped aside easily and raked his claws down the back of Mistfeather’s head.
“You’ll need to be faster than that!” he taunted the gray tom.
Undaunted, Mistfeather spun around and launched himself at the rogue leader again, but Darktail avoided the second blow as easily as the first. Mistfeather’s breath was already coming in ragged, wheezing gasps. He staggered and almost fell as Darktail thrust him off contemptuously with one paw.
Alderpaw couldn’t help admiring Mistfeather’s courage. As he watched the one-sided
fight, he recognized some skillful fighting moves, and he realized that the SkyClan cat would have been a formidable opponent if only he’d had the strength.
Mistfeather scrabbled around and charged at Darktail again and again, but each time the rogue sidestepped clear of his feeble swipes and landed a strike of his own. Soon blood was trickling down Mistfeather’s sides, and tufts of his fur littered the forest floor.
At last Mistfeather was completely spent, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. Darktail padded slowly up to him and stood over him. Mistfeather raised one forepaw to strike at him, but the movement was slow and listless. Darktail easily swatted the paw aside. Alderpaw’s muscles tightened with foreboding as he saw the real SkyClan cat sink to the ground, exhausted and defenseless.
“Stupid mange-pelt,” Darktail growled. “You should have stayed away.”
“Stop!” Alderpaw said, trying to move forward to protect the defeated cat, but he was too slow.
Darktail reared up and swept one forepaw around in a slashing blow. His claws ripped into Mistfeather’s throat, opening it up so that blood gushed out in arcing spurts. Mistfeather’s whole body spasmed, then went limp.
Alderpaw gazed in horror at the dead SkyClan warrior.
CHAPTER 18
Alderpaw winced as Darktail’s claws dug into his haunches. Only moments had passed since the slaughter of Mistfeather, and his killer was driving Alderpaw back to the camp.
“Keep moving,” the rogue leader rasped.
Stumbling onward, Alderpaw could still picture Mistfeather’s body, the gush of blood as Darktail’s claws slashed open his throat. “You didn’t have to kill Mistfeather,” he meowed, struggling to master his fear of the rogue leader. “He was already weak and defenseless. What harm could he have done to you? And you didn’t even bury him!” he added.
Darktail stabbed his claws once more into Alderpaw’s haunches. “There’s no way I would bury such a devious cat!” he snarled. “And when you and your companions are dead, I’ll leave your bodies to rot, too.”
Dismayed, Alderpaw half turned to confront Darktail, who simply gave him a hard shove to keep him moving. Is this the end of my quest? he wondered in despair. Maybe I should have listened to the others and left!
“We’ve done nothing to you or your cats to deserve being killed!” he protested.
“Don’t lie, flea-pelt!” Darktail hissed. “It’s obvious you’re allies of SkyClan. You’ve come as spies to unsettle my group, so the weak Clan with their daylight-warriors could come back. But my cats and I claimed this territory honorably, and we mean to keep it. Your plan has fallen apart!”
Alderpaw didn’t know how to reply to such false accusations; he knew that nothing he said would change Darktail’s mind.
Every cat stood up and stared as Darktail shoved Alderpaw across the pile of rocks to return to the camp. Alderpaw saw with relief that his Clanmates had returned. They padded to his side as Darktail pushed him into the middle of the circle of rogues.
“What’s going on?” Molewhisker asked.
Darktail stood at the bottom of the rocks, his gaze sweeping across the crowd of his followers as he prepared to address them.
Of course! Alderpaw thought. He always sits beside the rocks. A real Clan leader would speak to his cats from the top. We shouldn’t have believed Darktail was a Clan cat. He’s never behaved like one.
“I found this pathetic excuse for a cat”—Darktail gave Alderpaw a contemptuous prod—“talking to a SkyClan cat in the forest. It’s obvious that these cats have lied to us. They’re not friendly visitors. They’re working with SkyClan to steal this territory back from us, after we fought for it so bravely! This has been a conspiracy from the beginning.”
Angry murmurs arose from the rogues. Alderpaw saw their neck fur beginning to bristle, their tails lashing as they closed in around the questing cats. His friends scarcely resisted, bewildered by the news and the accusation.
“They’re not SkyClan?” Cherryfall meowed.
“We should have known!” Molewhisker hissed. “A lot of things are making sense now.”
“Is this true?” Rain asked Needlepaw, thrusting his face up against hers until their noses almost touched. “Are you plotting with SkyClan?” Alderpaw could see his anger as Rain’s claws flexed in and out, but he could sense something else beneath it. Does he feel hurt? Alderpaw wondered, the odd ache swelling in his chest again.
Needlepaw remained calm as she met Rain’s furious green gaze. “Of course it’s not true,” she replied. “We live far away from here, and when we set out, we weren’t even sure that SkyClan existed. So how could we have been conspiring with them?”
An angry yowl from Darktail followed her words. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Certainly not.” Needlepaw’s voice was still even, and she raised one paw to smooth her whiskers. Alderpaw admired how she showed not the least trace of fear. “I’m not calling any cat a liar.” She turned to look at Alderpaw, her face as annoyed as Molewhisker’s had been sometimes when he was Alderpaw’s mentor. “My medicine-cat friend might have been spending time with the wrong cat, but I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”
Darktail seemed to be considering her words. In the brief silence the black she-cat, Raven, sidled up to him.
“Better safe than sorry,” she mewed. “We don’t know for sure that we can trust these cats. After all, they did turn up out of the blue. And does any cat really believe what they told us?”
Alderpaw felt as though his windpipe was swelling, cutting off his breath. Is every cat here ruthless and nasty?
Darktail went on thinking for a moment longer, then fixed an unblinking blue gaze on Needlepaw. “You know I can’t just let you go. Not after everything that has happened.”
Instantly Molewhisker and Cherryfall stepped forward, their backs arching and their shoulder fur bristling. “You can’t keep us here if we don’t want to stay,” Molewhisker snarled.
“Right,” Cherryfall agreed. “If we say we’re leaving, we’ll leave.”
Alderpaw realized in despair that Darktail had no need to respond. Without a word from him, the rogues tightened the circle around them, their tails raised and their claws flexing, ready to fight.
We’re outnumbered, Alderpaw thought. They can keep us here. They can do what they like with us.
“It’s nothing personal,” Darktail meowed smoothly. “Already one enemy has trespassed in the forest. I’m just making sure that no more danger is brought here to the gorge. Once I’m convinced that the danger has passed, I’ll let you go.” He licked one paw and drew it over his ear. “I promise . . .”
But how can we believe your promises? Alderpaw added silently.
The sun had gone down, and deep shadows lay over the gorge. After the earlier confrontation, Alderpaw and the others had been escorted to a different den, no more than a jagged crack in the rock, where they huddled together tightly. The rough walls pressed into their fur, and it was impossible to get comfortable.
Just outside, Raven was sitting on guard, her back to the den. Seeing her ears pricked alertly, none of the questing cats had felt able to discuss plans for what they might do next.
“So what happened to the real SkyClan?” Cherryfall asked Alderpaw at last, her voice a low murmur. “Did you find out?”
Alderpaw nodded. “Mistfeather—the cat I met in the forest—told me that the rogues attacked SkyClan and drove them out of the gorge. After that, the SkyClan cats scattered. Mistfeather didn’t know where they went. And then Darktail killed him.”
Sparkpaw let out a horrified gasp, and dug her claws hard into the sandy floor of the den.
“Darktail is evil,” Molewhisker mewed. Turning to Needlepaw, he added, “What were you thinking this morning? We shouldn’t have tried to explain to him. We should have walked out of our own accord.”
“And don’t you think the rogues would have followed us?” Needlepaw retorted. “We would have led them straight to our own Clans
.”
Her voice rose as she spoke. Alderpaw and the others all turned to look at Raven, but if the black she-cat had heard them, she was giving nothing away.
The Clan cats settled once more into an uneasy silence, nestling down into the uncomfortable new den. Alderpaw felt the dust sticking to his pelt, the sharp stones and pebbles jabbing at his flesh, and he began to wonder where this quest had gone so wrong.
We found what’s left of SkyClan . . . but will we share their fate?
CHAPTER 19
Alderpaw dozed uneasily, only to rouse again as he felt a paw prodding him gently in the shoulder. He opened his eyes; there was just enough light for him to see Sparkpaw staring down at him.
“Shh!” she whispered. “We need to go—now.”
Alderpaw blinked at her. “What are you talking about?”
“The rogues are asleep,” Sparkpaw murmured, “but who knows for how long? The sun will be up soon. This is the best chance we’ll have.”
Alderpaw staggered to his paws, stretching his jaws in a massive yawn. As he arched his back, stretching his cramped body, he saw Molewhisker and Cherryfall standing just behind his sister. Needlepaw, looking unusually hesitant, was waiting near the entrance to the den.
“I think this is a bad idea,” she mumbled. “If they catch us—”
Molewhisker brushed his tail across her shoulder. “We’ll just have to make sure they don’t,” he said.
Needlepaw’s head drooped in reluctant agreement as Molewhisker turned to the others and jerked his head to signal they should move. He led the way out into the open. A couple of tail-lengths away, Raven was sleeping with her tail curled over her nose. Alderpaw guessed she would be in trouble with Darktail when he woke up.
Silently the questing cats wove their way among the rocks, heading toward the water’s edge. Alderpaw’s pelt prickled as he imagined rogue cats looking out from the dens in the cliff face and spotting their stealthy movement. But no warning yowls split the dawn silence.