“That’s enough.” The kits’ mother, Squirrelflight, emerged from the nursery in time to hear Sparkkit’s last words. “You’re not supposed to have fun with your mentors,” she added, licking one paw and smoothing it over Sparkkit’s pelt. “You’re supposed to learn from them. Berrynose and Whitewing are both fine warriors. You’d be very lucky to have either of them as your mentor.”
Though Squirrelflight’s voice was sharp, her green gaze shone with love for her kits. Alderkit knew how much his mother adored him and his sister. He was only a kit, but he understood that Squirrelflight was old to have her first litter, and he remembered their shared grief for his lost littermates: Juniperkit, who had barely taken a breath before he died, and Dandelionkit, who had never been strong, and who had slowly weakened until she also died two moons later.
Sparkkit and I have to be the best cats we can be for Squirrelflight and Bramblestar.
Sparkkit, meanwhile, wasn’t at all cowed by her mother’s scolding. She twitched her tail and cheerfully shook her pelt until her fur fluffed up again.
Alderkit wished he had her confidence. He hadn’t wondered until now who his mentor would be, and he gazed around the clearing at the other cats with new and curious eyes. Ivypool would be an okay mentor, he thought, spotting the silver-and-white tabby she-cat returning from a hunting patrol with Lionblaze and Blossomfall. She’s friendly and a good hunter. Lionblaze is a bit scary, though. Alderkit suppressed a shiver at the sight of the muscles rippling beneath the golden warrior’s pelt. And it won’t be Blossomfall, because she was just mentor for Hollytuft. Or Brackenfur or Rosepetal, because they mentored Sorrelstripe and Fernsong.
Lost in thought, Alderkit watched Thornclaw, who had paused in the middle of the clearing to give himself a good scratch behind one ear. He’d probably be okay, though he’s sort of short-tempered . . .
“Hey, wake up!” Sparkkit trod down hard on Alderkit’s paw. “It’s starting!”
Alderkit realized that Bramblestar had appeared on the Highledge outside his den, way above their heads on the wall of the stone hollow.
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting!” Bramblestar yowled.
As the cats in the clearing turned their attention to Bramblestar and began to gather together, Alderpaw thought that his father seemed to stand taller and stronger than all of them—even brave warriors like Lionblaze and Dovewing.
He’s so confident and strong. I’m lucky to be his son.
Bramblestar ran lightly down the tumbled rocks and took his place in the center of the ragged circle of cats that was forming at the foot of the rock wall. Graystripe, the Clan’s previous deputy, purred as the kits passed him, and Sorrelstripe, one of the youngest warriors, held her head high, as if proud to have finished her own apprenticeship. Squirrelflight gently nudged her two kits forward until they too stood in the circle.
Alderkit’s belly began to churn even harder, and he tightened all his muscles to stop himself from trembling. I can’t do this! he thought, struggling not to panic.
Then he caught sight of his father’s gaze on him: such a warm, proud look that Alderkit instantly felt comforted. He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to relax.
“Cats of ThunderClan,” Bramblestar began, “this is a good day for us, because it’s time to make two new apprentices. Sparkkit, come here, please.”
Instantly Sparkkit bounced into the center of the circle, her tail standing straight up and her fur bristling with excitement. She gazed confidently at her leader.
“From this day forward,” Bramblestar meowed, touching Sparkkit on her shoulder with his tail-tip, “this apprentice will be known as Sparkpaw. Cherryfall, you will be her mentor. I trust that you will share with her your dedication to your Clan, your quick mind, and your excellent hunting skills.”
Sparkpaw dashed across the circle to Cherryfall, bouncing with happiness, and the ginger she-cat bent her head to touch noses with her.
“Sparkpaw! Sparkpaw!” the Clan began to yowl.
Sparkpaw gave a pleased little hop as her Clanmates chanted her new name, her eyes shining as she stood beside her mentor.
Alderkit joined in the acclamation, pleased to see how happy his sister looked. Thank StarClan! There wasn’t any kind of test to prove that she was ready.
As the yowling died away, Bramblestar beckoned to Alderkit with his tail. “Your turn,” he meowed, his gaze encouraging Alderkit on.
Alderkit’s legs were suddenly wobbly as he staggered into the center of the circle. His chest felt tight, as if he couldn’t breathe properly. But as he halted in front of Bramblestar, his father gave him a slight nod to steady him, and he stood with his head raised as Bramblestar rested the tip of his tail on his shoulder.
“From this day forward, this apprentice will be known as Alderpaw,” Bramblestar announced. “Molewhisker, you will be his mentor. You are loyal, determined, and brave, and I know that you will do your best to pass on these qualities to your apprentice.”
As he padded across the clearing to join his mentor, Alderpaw wasn’t sure how he felt. He knew that Molewhisker was Cherryfall’s littermate, but the big cream-and-brown tom was much quieter than his sister, and had never shown much interest in the kits. His gaze was solemn as he bent to touch noses with Alderpaw.
I hope I can make you proud of me, Alderpaw thought. I’m going to try my hardest!
“Alderpaw! Alderpaw!”
Alderpaw ducked his head and gave his chest fur a few embarrassed licks as he heard his Clan caterwauling his name. At the same time, he thought he would burst with happiness.
At last the chanting died away and the crowd of cats began to disperse, heading toward their dens or the fresh-kill pile. Squirrelflight and Bramblestar padded over to join their kits.
“Well done,” Bramblestar meowed. “It wasn’t so scary, was it?”
“It was great!” Sparkpaw responded, her tail waving in the air. “I can’t wait to go hunting!”
“We’re so proud of both of you,” Squirrelflight purred, giving Sparkpaw and then Alderpaw a lick around the ears. “I’m sure you’ll be wonderful warriors one day.”
Bramblestar dipped his head in agreement. “I know you both have so much to give your Clan.” He stepped back as he finished speaking, and waved his tail to draw Molewhisker and Cherryfall closer. “Listen to your mentors,” he told the two new apprentices. “I’m looking forward to hearing good things about your progress.”
With an affectionate nuzzle he turned away and headed toward his den. Squirrelflight too gave her kits a quick cuddle, and then she followed him. Alderpaw and Sparkpaw were left alone with Molewhisker and Cherryfall.
Molewhisker faced Alderpaw, blinking solemnly. “It’s a big responsibility, being an apprentice,” he meowed. “You must pay close attention to everything you’re taught, because one day your Clan may depend on your fighting or hunting skills.”
Alderpaw nodded solemnly.
“You’ll have to work hard to prove you have what it takes to be a warrior,” Molewhisker went on.
His head held high, Alderpaw tried to look worthy, but was afraid he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Hearing Cherryfall talking to Sparkpaw just behind him didn’t help at all.
“. . . and we’ll have such fun exploring the territory!” the ginger she-cat mewed enthusiastically. “And now you’ll get to go to Gatherings.”
Alderpaw couldn’t help wishing that his own mentor were a little more enthusiastic, like his littermate’s.
“Can we start learning to hunt now?” Sparkpaw asked eagerly.
It was Molewhisker who replied. “Not right now. In addition to learning how to be warriors, apprentices have special duties for the well-being of the whole Clan.”
“What do we have to do?” Alderpaw asked, hoping to impress on his mentor that he was ready for anything.
There was a guilty look on Cherryfall’s face as she meowed, “Today you’re going to
make the elders more comfortable by getting rid of their ticks.”
Molewhisker waved his tail in the direction of the medicine cats’ den. “Go and ask Leafpool or Jayfeather for some mouse bile. They’ll tell you how to use it.”
“Mouse bile!” Sparkpaw wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Yuck!”
Alderpaw’s heart sank further. If this is being an apprentice, I’m not sure I’m going to like it.
Sunlight shone into the den beneath the hazel bushes where the elders lived. Alderpaw wished that he could curl up in the warmth and take a nap. Instead he combed his claws painstakingly through Graystripe’s long pelt, searching for ticks. Sparkpaw was doing the same for Purdy, while Sandstorm and Millie looked on, patiently waiting their turn.
“Wow, there’s a massive tick here!” Sparkpaw exclaimed. “Hold still, Purdy, and I’ll get it off.”
With clenched teeth she picked up the twig Jayfeather had given her, which had a ball of moss soaked in mouse bile stuck on one end, and awkwardly maneuvered it until she could dab the moss onto Purdy’s tick.
The old tabby shook his pelt and sighed with relief as the tick fell off. “That’s much better, young ’un,” he purred.
“But this stuff smells horrible!” Sparkpaw mumbled around the twig. “I don’t know how you elders can stand it.” Suppressing a sigh, she began parting Purdy’s clumped, untidy fur in search of more ticks.
“Now you listen to me, youngster,” Purdy meowed. “There’s not a cat in ThunderClan who wasn’t an apprentice once, takin’ off ticks, just like you.”
“Even Bramblestar?” Alderpaw asked, pausing with one paw sunk deep in Graystripe’s pelt.
“Even Firestar,” Graystripe responded. “He and I were apprentices together, and I’ve lost count of the number of ticks we pulled. Hey!” he added, giving Alderpaw a prod. “Watch what you’re doing. Your claws are digging in my shoulder!”
“Sorry!” Alderpaw replied.
In spite of being scolded, he felt quite content. Cleaning off ticks was a messy job, but there were worse things than sitting in a shaft of sunlight and listening to the elders. He looked up briefly to see Sandstorm’s green gaze resting lovingly on him and his sister as she settled herself more comfortably in the bracken of her nest.
“I remember when your mother was first made an apprentice,” she mewed. “Dustpelt was her mentor. You never knew him—he died in the Great Storm—but he was one of our best warriors, and he didn’t put up with any nonsense. Even so, Squirrelflight was a match for him!”
“What did she do?” Alderpaw asked, intrigued to think of his serious, businesslike mother as a difficult young apprentice. “Go on, tell us!”
Sandstorm sighed. “What didn’t she do? Slipping out of camp to hunt on her own . . . getting stuck in bushes, falling into streams . . . I remember Dustpelt saying to me once, ‘If that kit of yours doesn’t shape up, I’m going to claw her pelt off and hang it on a bush to frighten the foxes!’”
Sparkpaw stared at Sandstorm with her mouth gaping. “He wouldn’t have!”
“No, of course not,” Sandstorm responded, her green eyes alight with amusement, “but Dustpelt had to be tough with her. He saw how much she had to offer her Clan, but he knew she wouldn’t live up to her potential unless she learned discipline.”
“She sure did that,” Alderpaw meowed.
“Hey!” Graystripe gave Alderpaw another prod. “What about my ticks, huh?”
“And ours,” Millie put in, with a glance at Sandstorm. “We’ve been waiting moons!”
“Sorry . . .”
Alderpaw began rapidly searching through Graystripe’s pelt, and almost at once he came across a huge swollen tick. That must be making Graystripe really uncomfortable.
Picking up his stick with the bile-soaked moss, he dabbed at the tick. At the same moment, he happened to glance up, and spotted Leafpool and Jayfeather talking intently to each other just outside the medicine cats’ den.
As Alderpaw wondered vaguely what was so important, both medicine cats turned toward him. Suddenly he felt trapped by Jayfeather’s blind gaze and Leafpool’s searching one.
A worm of uneasiness began to gnaw at Alderpaw’s belly. Great StarClan! Are they talking about me? Have I messed something up already?
CHAPTER 2
Alderpaw scarcely slept at all on his first night in the apprentices’ den. He missed the warm scents of the nursery and the familiar shapes of his mother and Daisy sleeping beside him. The hollow beneath the ferns seemed empty with only him and his sister occupying it.
Sparkpaw had curled up at once with her tail wrapped over her nose, but Alderpaw dozed uneasily, caught between excitement and apprehension at what the new day would bring. He was fully awake again by the time the first pale light of dawn began to filter through the ferns.
He sprang up as the arching fronds parted and a head appeared, but relaxed when he recognized Cherryfall.
“Hi!” the ginger she-cat meowed. “Give Sparkpaw a prod. It’s time for our tour of the territory!”
“Me too?” Alderpaw asked.
“Yes, of course. Molewhisker is here waiting. Hurry!”
Alderpaw poked one paw into his sister’s side, and her soft, rhythmic snoring broke off with a squeak of alarm. “Is it foxes?” she asked, sitting up and shaking scraps of moss off her pelt. “Badgers?”
“No, it’s our mentors,” Alderpaw told her. “They’re going to show us the territory.”
“Great!” Sparkpaw shot upward, scrabbling hard with her hind paws as she pushed her way out through the ferns. “Let’s go!”
Alderpaw followed more slowly, shivering in the chilly air of dawn. Outside the den Molewhisker and Cherryfall stood waiting side by side. Beyond them he spotted Bumblestripe, Rosepetal, and Cloudtail emerging from the warriors’ den. After a quick grooming they set off, with Cloudtail in the lead, and vanished through the thorn tunnel.
“There goes the dawn patrol,” Molewhisker meowed. “We’ll wait a few moments to let them get on their way. If you want, you can take something from the fresh-kill pile.”
Alderpaw suddenly realized how hungry he was. With Sparkpaw at his side, he raced across the camp.
“There’s not much here,” Sparkpaw complained, prodding with one paw at a scrawny mouse.
“The hunting patrols haven’t gone out yet,” Alderpaw pointed out. He took a blackbird from the scanty prey that remained and began gulping it down.
“Wait till we’re hunters!” Sparkpaw mumbled around a mouthful of mouse. “Then the fresh-kill pile will always be full.”
Alderpaw hoped that she was right.
Molewhisker waved his tail from the opposite side of the camp. Swallowing the last of their prey, the two apprentices bounded back to join him and Cherryfall, who took the lead as they pushed their way through the tunnel in the barrier of thorns that blocked the entrance to the camp.
Alderpaw’s pads tingled with anticipation as he slid through the narrow space and set his paws in the forest for the first time.
By now the dawn light had strengthened, and a reddish glow through the trees showed where the sun would rise. Ragged scraps of mist still floated among the undergrowth, and the grass was heavy with dew.
Sparkpaw’s eyes stretched wide as she gazed around her. “It’s so big!” she squealed.
Alderpaw was silent, unable to find words for what he could see. Except for the thorn barrier behind him, and the walls of the stone hollow beyond, trees stretched away in every direction, until they faded into a shadowy distance. Their trunks rose many fox-lengths above his head, their branches intertwining. The air was full of tantalizing prey-scents, and he could hear the scuffling of small creatures in the thick undergrowth among the trees.
“Can we hunt?” Sparkpaw asked eagerly.
“Maybe later,” Cherryfall told her. “To begin with, we’re going to tour the territory. By the time you’re made warriors, you’ll need to know every paw step of it.”
Molewhisk
er nodded seriously. “Every tree, every rock, every stream . . .”
Alderpaw blinked. All of it? Surely no cat could ever know all of it?
“This way,” Cherryfall meowed briskly. “We’ll start by heading for the ShadowClan border.”
“Will we meet ShadowClan cats?” Sparkpaw asked. “What happens if we do?”
“Nothing happens,” Molewhisker replied sternly. “They stay on their side; we stay on ours.”
Cherryfall set out at a good pace, with Sparkpaw bouncing along beside her. Alderpaw followed, and Molewhisker brought up the rear.
Before they had taken many paw steps, they came to a spot where a wide path led away into the forest, covered only with short grass and small creeping plants. Longer grass and ferns bordered it on either side.
“Where does that go?” Alderpaw asked, angling his ears toward the path. “And why doesn’t anything much grow there?”
“Good question,” Molewhisker responded. Alderpaw was pleased at his mentor’s approving tone. “That path was made by Twolegs many, many seasons ago. The same Twolegs who cut out the stone to make the hollow where we camp. It leads to the old Twoleg den, where Leafpool and Jayfeather grow their herbs.”
“But we aren’t going that way today,” Cherryfall added.
Heading farther away from the camp, Alderpaw noticed that the trees ahead seemed to be thinning out. A bright, silvery light was shining through them.
“What’s that?” Sparkpaw asked.
Neither of their mentors replied; they just kept walking until they reached the edge of the trees. Then they pushed through a thick barrier of holly bushes. Alderpaw emerged onto a stretch of short, soft grass. Beyond it was a strip of pebbles and sandy soil, and beyond that . . .
“Wow!” Sparkpaw gasped. “Is that the lake?”
Alderpaw blinked at the shining expanse of water that lay in front of him. He had heard his Clanmates back in the camp talking about the lake, and he had imagined something a bit bigger than the puddles that formed on the floor of the hollow when it rained. He would never have believed that there was this much water in the whole world.