CHAPTER 6

Early-morning sunlight streamed down onto the forest floor

as Firepaw roamed in search of prey. Two moons had

passed since he had begun his training. He felt at ease in

this environment now. His senses had been awoken and

educated in the ways of the woods.

Firepaw paused to sniff the earth and the cold blind

things that moved within it. He caught the scent of a Twoleg

that had wandered the forest recently. Now that greenleaf

was ful y here, leaves were thick on the branches and tiny

creatures were busy beneath the carpet of leaf mold.

Firepaw made a lean, strong shape as he moved silently

through the trees, al his senses alert for the scent trail that

would end in a swift kil. Today he had been set his first solo

task. He was determined to do wel, even if his task was

only to bring back fresh-kil for the Clan.

He headed for the stream that he had crossed on that

first trek through the ThunderClan hunting grounds. It

gurgled and spattered as it ran downhil over the smooth,

round pebbles. Firepaw paused briefly to lap at the cold,

clear water, then lifted his head and tested the air again for

any scent of prey.

The stench of a fox lay heavy in the air here. The smel

was stale, so the fox must have drunk here earlier in the

day. Firepaw recognized the odor; he had smel ed it on his

first visit to the forest. Since then, Lionheart had taught him

it was fox-scent, but, apart from the glimpse of the fox’s

brush he had caught on that first outing, Firepaw had stil

never seen one properly.

He struggled to screen out the fox-stench and

concentrate on prey-scent. Suddenly his whiskers prickled

as he homed in on the warm blood-beat of prey—a water

vole busy about its nest.

A moment later he saw the vole. The fat brown body was

darting back and forth along the bank as it gathered grass

stalks. Firepaw’s mouth watered in anticipation. His last

meal had been many hours ago, but he dared not hunt for

himself until the Clan had been fed. He remembered the

words repeated by Lionheart and Tigerclaw time and time

again: “The Clan must be fed first. ”

Dropping into a crouch, Firepaw began to stalk the little

creature. His orange bel y fur brushed against the damp

grass. He crept closer, his eyes never leaving his prey.

Almost there. Another moment and he would be near

enough to spring….

Suddenly there was a loud rustle in the ferns behind him.

The water vole’s ears twitched and it disappeared down a

hole in the bank.

Firepaw felt the hackles rising along his spine. Whatever

had ruined his first good chance of catching prey would

have to pay.

He sniffed the air. He could tel it was a cat, but he

realized with a jolt that he couldn’t identify which Clan it

belonged to—the stale stench of fox stil confused his smel -

sense.

A growl rose in his throat as he began doubling back in

a wide circle. He pricked up his ears and opened his eyes

wide, seeking out any movement. He heard the

undergrowth rustle again. It was louder now, off to one side.

Firepaw edged closer. He could see the ferns moving, but

the fronds stil hid the enemy from view. A twig snapped

with a sharp cracking noise. From the noise it’s making, it

must be big, Firepaw thought, preparing himself for a fierce

battle.

He leaped for the trunk of an ash and climbed swiftly and

silently up to an overhanging branch. Below him the

invisible warrior came closer, and closer stil. Firepaw held

his breath, judging his moment as the ferns were pushed

aside and a large grayish shape emerged.

“Gr-aaar! ” The battle cry rumbled in Firepaw’s throat.

Claws unsheathed, he launched himself at the enemy and

landed squarely on a set of furry, muscular shoulders. He

dug in hard, gripping with thorn-sharp claws, ready to deal

out a powerful warning bite.

“Wa-ah! What’sat? ” The body below him shot straight up

in the air, carrying him with it.

“Uh! Graypaw? ” Firepaw recognized the astonished

voice and caught his friend’s familiar smel, but he was too

fired up to loosen his grip.

“Ambush! Murr-oww! ” spat Graypaw, not realizing that

the cat gripping onto his back was Firepaw. He rol ed over

and over in an attempt to dislodge his attacker.

“Uufff-ff! ” Firepaw rol ed with him, squashed and

flattened beneath the heavy body. “It’s me—Firepaw! ” he

yowled as he struggled to pul free and sheath his claws.

Rol ing away, he sprang to his feet and gave himself a

shake, which rippled al the way along his body to the end

of his tail. “Graypaw! It’s me, ” he repeated. “I thought you

were an enemy warrior! ”

Graypaw rose to his feet. He winced and shook himself.

“It felt like it! ” he grumbled, twisting his head around to lick

his sore shoulders. “You’ve raked me to shreds! ”

“Sorry, ” Firepaw mumbled. “But what was I supposed to

think, with you creeping up on me like that? ”

“Creeping up! ” Graypaw’s eyes were round with

indignation. “That was my best stealth crouch. ”

“Stealth! You stil stalk like a lopsided badger! ” Firepaw

teased. He flattened his ears playful y.

Graypaw gave a hiss of delight. “I’l show you lopsided! ”

The two cats leaped at each other and began rol ing

over and over in a play-fight. Graypaw swiped at Firepaw

with a hefty paw and the young apprentice’s head buzzed

with stars.

“Uufff-ff! ” Firepaw shook his head to clear it and then

launched a counterattack.

He managed to get in a couple of paw strikes before

Graypaw overpowered him and held him down. Firepaw let

his body go limp.

“You give up too easily! ” mewed Graypaw, loosening his

grip. As he did so, Firepaw sprang to his feet, firing

Graypaw off his back and into the undergrowth.

Firepaw leaped after him and pinned him to the ground.

“‘Surprise is the warrior’s greatest weapon, ’” he crowed,

quoting one of Lionheart’s favorite phrases. He jumped

nimbly off Graypaw and began to squirm around in the leaf

litter, enjoying his easy victory and the warmth of the earth

against his back.

Graypaw seemed unbothered by his second defeat of

the morning. It was too fine a day for bad temper. “So

how’re you getting on with your task? ” he asked.

Firepaw sat up. “I was doing just fine til you came along!

I was about to catch a vole when your noisy trampling

frightened it off. ”

“Oh, sorry, ” mewed Graypaw.

Firepaw looked at his crestfal en friend. “That’s okay.

You didn’t know, ” he purred. “Anyway, ” he continued,

“shouldn’t you be heading to meet the patrol on the

WindClan border? I thought you had to give them a

message from Bluestar. ”

“Yeah, but there’s plenty of time. I was going to do a little

hunting first. I’m starving! ”

“Me too. But I’ve got to hunt for the Clan before I can hunt

for myself. ”

“I bet Dustpaw and Sandpaw used to swal ow a shrew or

two when they were on hunting duty, ” snorted Graypaw.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they did, but this is my first solo

assignment…. ”

“And you want to do it right; I know. ” Graypaw sighed.

“What is the message from Bluestar, anyway? ” Firepaw

asked, changing the subject.

“She wants the patrol to wait at the Great Sycamore until

she joins them at sunhigh. Seems that some ShadowClan

cats have been prowling around. Bluestar wants to check

things out. ”

“You’d best get going then, ” Firepaw reminded him.

“The WindClan hunting grounds aren’t too far from here.

There’s plenty of time, ” answered Graypaw confidently.

“And I suppose I should help out after losing you that vole. ”

“It doesn’t matter, ” Firepaw mewed. “I’l find another. It’s

such a warm day, there should be quite a few out and

about. ”

“True. But you stil have to catch them. ” Graypaw nibbled

at a front claw, stripping off a piece of the outer sheath

thoughtful y. “You know, that could take you until way past

sunhigh, maybe even until sunset. ”

Firepaw nodded without enthusiasm as his bel y gave a

rumble. He would probably have to make three or four

hunting trips before he had caught enough prey. Silverpelt

would be in the sky before he got a chance to eat.

Graypaw stroked his whiskers. “Come on; I’l help you

get started. I owe you that, at least. We should be able to

catch a couple of voles before I have to get going. ”

Firepaw fol owed Graypaw upstream, glad of the

company and the help. The fox-stench was stil in the air,

but suddenly it smel ed stronger.

Firepaw paused. “Can you smel that? ” he asked.

Graypaw stopped and sniffed the air too. “Fox. Yeah, I

smel ed it earlier. ”

“Doesn’t it smel fresher to you now, though? ” Firepaw

asked.

Graypaw sniffed again, opening his mouth slightly.

“You’re right, ” he murmured, lowering his voice. He

swiveled his head to look across the stream at the bushes

in the woods beyond. “Look! ” he whispered.

Firepaw looked. He saw something red and thick-haired

moving among the bushes. It stepped into a clearing in the

undergrowth and Firepaw saw a low body, glinting red in

the dappled sunlight. Its tail was heavily furred and it had a

long, narrow snout.

“So that’s a fox? ” Firepaw whispered. “What an ugly

muzzle! ”

“You can say that again! ” agreed Graypaw.

“I was fol owing one of those when we first…met, ”

whispered Firepaw.

“More likely it was fol owing you, you idiot! ” hissed

Graypaw. “Never trust a fox. Looks like a dog, behaves like

a cat. We must warn the queens that one has strayed into

our territory. Foxes are as bad as badgers when it comes

to kil ing young kits. I’m just glad you didn’t catch up with the

one you saw last time. He’d have made mousemeat out of

a tiny scrap like you. ” Firepaw looked a little put out, and

Graypaw added, “You’d stand a better chance these days,

though. Anyway, Bluestar wil probably send a warrior patrol

to scare it off. Put the queens’ minds at rest. ”

The fox had not noticed them, so the two apprentices

continued along the stream.

“So what does a badger look like? ” Firepaw asked as

they prowled along, sniffing to either side.

“Black and white, short legs. You’l know one when you

meet one. They’re bad-tempered, lumbering animals.

They’re less likely to raid the nursery than a fox, but they

have a vicious bite. How do you think old Halftail earned his

name? He hasn’t been able to climb a tree since a badger

bit his tail off! ”

“Why not? ”

“Scared of fal ing. A cat needs his tail if he wants to land

on his feet. It helps him spin in midair. ”

Firepaw nodded in understanding.

As Firepaw had predicted, hunting was good that day.

Before long, Graypaw had pounced on a smal mouse and

Firepaw had caught a thrush. He quickly took its life. No

time to practice kil ing techniques today; there were too

many hungry mouths waiting back at camp. Firepaw kicked

earth over the prey, so that it would be safe from predators

until he came back for it.

Suddenly a squirrel broke cover.

Firepaw burst into action. “After it! ” he cal ed, pelting at

ful stretch over the springy woodland floor with Graypaw at

his heels.

They slid to a halt as the squirrel scampered upward into

a birch.

“Lost it! ” Graypaw growled in disappointment.

Panting, the two cats stopped to catch their breath. The

acrid stench that hit their mouths and noses surprised them.

“The Thunderpath, ” Firepaw mewed. “I didn’t realize

we’d come so far. ”

The two cats edged forward to peer out of the forest at

the great, dark path. It was the first time they had been here

alone. A trail of noisy creatures growled along the hard

surface, their dead eyes staring straight ahead.

“Yuck! ” Graypaw snorted. “Those monsters real y stink! ”

Firepaw twitched his ears in agreement. The choking

smel s made his throat sting. “Have you ever been across

the Thunderpath? ” he mewed.

Graypaw shook his head.

Firepaw took a step out of the cover of the forest. A

border of oily grass lay between the trees and the

Thunderpath. He crept slowly out onto it, and then shrank

back as a stinking monster hurtled past.

“Hey! Where are you going? ” Graypaw mewed.

Firepaw didn’t reply. He waited til there were no

monsters in sight. Then he edged forward again, across the

grass, right to the edge of the path. Cautiously, he reached

out a paw to touch it. It felt warm, almost sticky, heated by

the sun. He looked up, staring across the Thunderpath.

Was that a pair of eyes glinting out of the forest on the other

side? He sniffed the air, but smel ed nothing except the

stench of the great gray path. The eyes on the other side

were stil shining in the shadows. Then they blinked, slowly.

Firepaw was sure now. It was a ShadowClan warrior,

and it was staring straight at him.

“Firepaw! ” Graypaw’s voice made Firepaw jump, just as

a huge monster, tal er than a tree, roared past his nose.

The wind from it almost toppled him over. Firepaw turned

and ran as fast as he could back into the safety of the

forest.

“You mouse-brained fool! ” spat Graypaw. His whiskers

trembled with fear and anger. “What were you doing? ”

“I just wondered what the Thunderpath felt like, ” Firepaw

muttered. His whiskers were trembling too.

“Come on, ” hissed Graypaw edgily. “Let’s get out of

here! ”

Firepaw fol owed Graypaw as he leaped away back into

the forest. Once they were a safe distance from the

Thunderpath, Graypaw stopped to catch his breath.

Firepaw sat down and began to lick his ruffled fur. “I think

I saw a ShadowClan warrior, ” he mewed between licks. “In

the forest on the other side of the Thunderpath. ”

“A ShadowClan warrior! ” echoed Graypaw, his eyes

wide. “Real y? ”

“I’m pretty sure. ”

“Wel, it’s a good thing that monster came past when it

did, ” retorted Graypaw. “Where there’s one ShadowClan

warrior, there’s more, and we’re no match for them yet.

We’d better get out of here. ” He looked up at the sun, which

was almost directly overhead. “I’d better get a move on if I

want to meet that patrol on time, ” he mewed. “See you

later. ” He sprang away into the undergrowth, cal ing as he

went, “You never know; Lionheart might let me come and

help you with the hunting once I’ve delivered this message. ”

Firepaw watched him go. He envied Graypaw, wishing

he were off to join a warrior patrol. But at least he’d have

something to tel Dustpaw and Sandpaw when he returned

to camp. Today he had seen his first ShadowClan warrior.