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 CHAPTER 12



       Firepaw peered over the brow of a bush-covered slope.

       Graypaw and Ravenpaw crouched beside him. Next to

       them a group of ThunderClan elders, queens, and warriors

       waited in the undergrowth for Bluestar to give the signal.

       Firepaw had not been to this place since his first journey

       with Lionheart and Tigerclaw. The steep-sided glade

       looked different now. The rich greenness of the woods had

       been bleached away by the cold light of the ful moon, and

       the leaves on the trees glowed silver. At the bottom stood

       the large oaks that marked where the corner of each Clan’s

       territory touched the other three.

       The air was thick with the warm scents of cats from the

       other Clans. Firepaw could see them quite clearly in the

       moonlight, moving about below in the grassy clearing that

       lay between the four oaks. In the center of the clearing, a

       large, jagged rock rose from the forest floor like a broken

       tooth.

       “Look at al those cats down there! ” hissed Ravenpaw

       under his breath.

       “There’s Crookedstar! ” Graypaw hissed back.

       “RiverClan’s leader. ”

       “Where? ” Firepaw mewed, nudging Graypaw

       impatiently.

       “That light-colored tabby, beside the Great Rock. ”

       Firepaw fol owed Graypaw’s nod and saw a huge tom,

       even bigger than Lionheart, sitting at the center of the

       clearing. His striped coat shone pale in the moonlight. Even

       from this distance, his old face showed the signs of a harsh

       life, and his mouth looked twisted, as if it had once been

       broken and had healed badly.

       “Hey! ” mewed Graypaw. “Did you see Sandpaw spit

       when I told her I hoped she had a nice evening at home? ”

       “You bet! ” Firepaw purred.

       Ravenpaw interrupted them with a muffled growl. “Look!

       There’s Brokenstar—ShadowClan’s leader, ” he hissed.

       Firepaw looked down at the dark brown tabby. His fur

       was unusual y long and his face was broad and flattened.

       There was a stil ness in the way he sat and stared around

       him that made Firepaw’s fur prickle uncomfortably.

       “He looks pretty nasty, ” Firepaw muttered.

       “Yeah, ” agreed Graypaw. “He’s certainly got a reputation

       among al the Clans for not suffering fools gladly. And he’s

       not been leader that long—four moons, ever since his

       father, Raggedstar, died. ”

       “What does the leader of WindClan look like? ” Firepaw

       asked.

       “Tal star? I’ve never seen him, but I know he’s black and

       white with a very long tail, ” answered Graypaw.

       “Can you see him now? ” asked Ravenpaw.

       Graypaw peered down, searching the crowd of cats

       below. “Nope! ”

       “Can you scent any WindClan cats? ” Firepaw asked.

       Graypaw shook his head. “No. ”

       Lionheart’s meow sounded softly beside them. “The

       WindClan cats may just be late. ”

       “But what if they don’t turn up at al? ” mewed Graypaw.

       “Hush! We must al be patient. These are difficult times.

       Now keep quiet. Bluestar wil give the signal to move soon, ”

       Lionheart meowed quietly.

       As he spoke, Bluestar stood, and, holding her tail high,

       flicked it from one side to the other. Firepaw’s heart missed

       a beat as the ThunderClan cats rose as one and bounded

       through the bushes, down toward the meeting place. He

       raced alongside them, feeling the wind rush in his ears and

       his paws tingle with anticipation.

       The ThunderClan cats paused instinctively on the edge

       of the clearing, outside the boundary of the oaks. Bluestar

       sniffed the air. Then she nodded and the troop moved

       forward into the clearing.

       Firepaw felt thril ed. The other cats looked even more

       impressive close up, mil ing about the Great Rock. A large

       white warrior strode past. Firepaw and Ravenpaw looked

       at him in awe.

       “Look at his paws! ” Ravenpaw murmured.

       Firepaw looked down and realized the huge paws of this

       great tom were jet black.

       “It must be Blackfoot, ” mewed Grewpaw. “ShadowClan’s

       new deputy. ”

       Blackfoot stalked over to Brokenstar and sat down

       beside him. The ShadowClan leader acknowledged him

       with a twitch of one ear, but said nothing.

       “When does the meeting begin? ” Ravenpaw asked

       Whitestorm.

       “Be patient, Ravenpaw, ” he answered. “The sky is clear

       tonight, so we have plenty of time. ”

       Lionheart leaned over and added, “We warriors like to

       spend a little time boasting about our victories, while the

       elders swap tales about the ancient days before the

       Twolegs came here. ” Al three apprentices looked up at

       him and saw his whiskers twitch mischievously.

       Dappletail, One-eye, and Smal ear headed straight off

       toward a group of elderly cats who were settling themselves

       below one of the oak trees. Whitestorm and Lionheart

       strol ed over to another pair of warriors whom Firepaw did

       not know. He sniffed the air and recognized their scent as

       RiverClan.

       Bluestar’s voice sounded behind the three apprentices.

       “Don’t waste any of your time tonight, ” she warned. “This is

       a good opportunity to meet your enemies. Listen to them;

       remember what they look like and how they behave. There

       is a great deal to be learned from these meetings. ”

       “And say little, ” warned Tigerclaw. “Don’t give anything

       away that might be used against us once the moon has

       waned. ”

       “Don’t worry; we won’t! ” Firepaw promised hastily,

       looking into Tigerclaw’s eyes. The feeling that Tigerclaw

       didn’t trust his loyalty lingered with him stil.

       The two warriors nodded and moved on, and the

       apprentices were left alone. They looked at each other.

       “What do we do now? ” Firepaw asked.

       “What they said, ” replied Ravenpaw. “Listen. ”

       “And don’t say too much, ” Graypaw added.

       Firepaw nodded gravely. “I’m going to see where

       Tigerclaw went, ” he mewed.

       “Wel, I’m going to find Lionheart, ” mewed Graypaw.

       “You coming, Ravenpaw? ”

       “No, thanks, ” Ravenpaw replied. “I’m going to find some

       of the other apprentices. ”

       “Okay, we’l meet up later, ” mewed Firepaw, and he

       trotted in the direction Tigerclaw had taken.

       He scented Tigerclaw easily and found him sitting at the

       center of a group of huge warriors, behind the Great Rock.

       Tigerclaw was speaking.

       It was a tale Firepaw had heard many times at camp.

       Tigerclaw was describing his recent battle against the

       RiverClan hunting party. “I wrestled like a LionClan cat.

       Three warriors tried to hold me but I threw them off. I fought

       them until two lay knocked out and the other had run off into

       the forest like a kit crying for its mother. ”

       This time Tigerclaw didn’t mention kil ing Oakheart in

       vengeance for Redtail’s death. Perhaps it’s so he doesn’t

       offend the RiverClan warriors, Firepaw decided.

       Firepaw listened politely to the end of the story, but a

       familiar scent was distracting him. As soon as Tigerclaw

       had finished speaking, Firepaw turned and crept away

       toward the sweet smel, which was coming from a group of

       cats nearby.

       He found Graypaw sitting among these cats, but that

       was not the scent he had been fol owing. Sitting opposite

       Graypaw, between two RiverClan toms, was Spottedleaf.

       Firepaw glanced at her shyly and settled himself beside his

       friend.

       “Stil no scent of WindClan, ” he mewed to Graypaw.

       “The meeting hasn’t begun yet; they may stil come, ”

       replied his friend. “Look, there’s Runningnose. He’s the

       new ShadowClan medicine cat, apparently. ” He nodded

       toward a smal gray-and-white cat at the center of the

       group.

       “I can see why they cal him Runningnose, ” Firepaw

       remarked. The medicine cat’s nose was wet at the tip and

       encrusted around the edges.

       “Yep, ” replied Graypaw with a scornful growl. “I can’t see

       why they appointed him when he can’t even cure his own

       why they appointed him when he can’t even cure his own

       cold! ”

       Runningnose was tel ing the cats about a herb that

       medicine cats had used in the old days to cure kitten-

       cough. “Since the Twolegs came and fil ed the place with

       hard earth and strange flowers, ” he complained in a high-

       pitched yowl, “the herb has disappeared, and kittens die

       needlessly in cold weather. ”

       The cats gathered around him yowled their disapproval.

       “It never would have happened in the time of the great

       Clan cats, ” growled a black RiverClan queen.

       “Indeed, ” mewled a silver tabby. “The great cats would

       have kil ed any Twolegs that dared enter their territory. If

       TigerClan roamed this forest stil, Twolegs would not have

       built this far into our land. ”

       Then Firepaw heard Spottedleaf’s quiet mew. “If

       TigerClan stil roamed these forests, we would hardly have

       made our territory here, either. ”

       “What’s TigerClan? ” mewed a smal voice beside them.

       Firepaw noticed a little tabby apprentice from one of the

       other Clans sitting beside him.

       “TigerClan is one of the great cat Clans that used to

       roam the forest, ” Graypaw explained quietly. “TigerClan is

       cats of the night, big as horses, with jet-black stripes. Then

       there is LionClan. They’re…” Graypaw hesitated, frowning

       as he tried to remember.

       “Oh! I’ve heard of them, ” mewed the tabby. “They were

       as big as TigerClan cats, with yel ow fur and golden manes

       like rays of the sun. ”

       Graypaw nodded. “And then there is the other one,

       SpottyClan or something like that…. ”

       “I suspect you’re thinking of LeopardClan, young

       Graypaw, ” meowed a voice from behind them.

       “Lionheart! ” Graypaw greeted his mentor with an

       affectionate touch of his nose.

       Lionheart shook his head in mock despair. “Don’t you

       youngsters know your history? LeopardClan are the

       swiftest cats, huge and golden, spotted with black

       pawprints. You can thank LeopardClan for the speed and

       hunting skil s you now possess. ”

       “Thank them? Why? ” asked the tabby.

       Lionheart gazed down at the little apprentice and

       answered, “There is a trace of al the great cats in every cat

       today. We would not be night hunters without our TigerClan

       ancestors, and our love of the sun’s warmth comes from

       LionClan. ” He paused. “You are a ShadowClan apprentice,

       aren’t you? How many moons are you? ”

       The tabby stared awkwardly down at the ground. “S-six

       moons, ” he stammered, not meeting Lionheart’s eye.

       “Rather smal for six moons, ” Lionheart murmured. His

       tone was gentle, but his gaze was searching and serious.

       “My mother was smal too, ” answered the tabby

       nervously. He bowed his head and backed away,

       disappearing into the crowd of cats with a twitch of his light

       brown tail.

       Lionheart turned to Firepaw and Graypaw. “Wel, he

       might be smal, but at least he was curious. If only you two

       showed as much interest in the stories your elders tel! ”

       “Sorry, Lionheart, ” Firepaw and Graypaw mewed,

       exchanging doubtful glances.

       Lionheart grunted good-naturedly. “Oh, go away, the pair

       of you! Next time I hope Bluestar decides to bring

       apprentices who appreciate what they hear. ” And with a

       half-hearted growl he chased them away from the group.

       “Come on, ” purred Graypaw as they leaped away. “Let’s

       see where Ravenpaw’s gotten to. ”

       Ravenpaw was in the middle of a group of apprentices

       who were clamoring for him to tel them about the battle with

       RiverClan.

       “Go on, Ravenpaw; tel us what happened! ” cal ed a

       pretty black-and-white she-cat.

       Ravenpaw shyly shuffled his paws and shook his head.

       “Come on, Ravenpaw! ” insisted another.

       Ravenpaw looked around and saw Firepaw and

       Graypaw at the edge of the crowd. Firepaw nodded

       encouragingly. Ravenpaw flicked his tail in

       acknowledgment and began his story.

       He stumbled a bit at first, but as he continued, the tremor

       disappeared from his voice and his audience leaned in,

       their eyes growing wider.

       “Fur was flying everywhere. Blood spattered the leaves

       of the bramble bushes, bright red against green. I’d just

       fought off a huge warrior and sent him squealing into the

       bushes when the ground shook, and I heard a warrior

       scream. It was Oakheart! Redtail raced past me, his mouth

       dripping blood and his fur torn. ‘Oakheart is dead! ’ he

       howled. Then he rushed off to help Tigerclaw as he fought

       another warrior. ”

       “Who would have thought Ravenpaw was such a good

       storytel er, ” Graypaw murmured to Firepaw, sounding

       impressed.

       But Firepaw was thinking of something else. What was it

       Ravenpaw had said? That Redtail had kil ed Oakheart?

       But according to Tigerclaw, Oakheart had kil ed Redtail

       and he, Tigerclaw, had kil ed Oakheart in revenge.

       “If Redtail kil ed Oakheart, who kil ed Redtail? ” Firepaw

       hissed to Graypaw.

       “If who did what? ” Graypaw echoed absentmindedly. He

       was only half listening to Firepaw.

       Firepaw shook his head to clear it. Ravenpaw must

       have been mistaken, he thought. He must have meant

       Tigerclaw.

       Ravenpaw was coming to the end of his story. “Final y,

       Redtail dragged the wailing cat off Tigerclaw by his tail and,

       with the strength of the whole of TigerClan, flung him into

       the bushes. ”

       A moving shadow caught Firepaw’s eye. He glanced

       around and saw Tigerclaw standing a short distance away.

       The warrior was watching Ravenpaw with an iron stare.

       Unaware of his mentor’s presence, Ravenpaw continued to

       answer question after question from his enthusiastic

       audience.

       “What were Oakheart’s dying words? ”

       “Is it true that Oakheart had never lost a battle before? ”

       Ravenpaw replied promptly, with his voice high and

       clear and his eyes shining. But when Firepaw glanced back

       at Tigerclaw, he saw a look of horror and then fury creep

       over the warrior’s face. Clearly Tigerclaw wasn’t enjoying

       Ravenpaw’s story at al.

       Firepaw was just about to say something to Graypaw

       when a loud yowl signaled to al the cats for quiet. Firepaw

       couldn’t help feeling relieved as Ravenpaw fel silent at last,

       and Tigerclaw turned away.

       Firepaw looked up to see where the yowl had come

       from. Three cats sat silhouetted against the moonlit sky on

       top of the Great Rock. They were Bluestar, Brokenstar, and

       Crookedstar.

       The Clan leaders were about to begin the meeting. But

       where was the WindClan leader?

       “Surely they won’t start the meeting without Tal star? ”

       Firepaw hissed under his breath.

       “I don’t know, ” Graypaw muttered back.

       “Haven’t you noticed? There isn’t a single WindClan cat

       here, ” whispered a RiverClan apprentice on the other side

       of Firepaw.

       Firepaw guessed that similar conversations were going

       on al around him. As the other cats were gathering beneath

       the Great Rock, an unsettled murmuring rumbled in their

       throats.

       “We can’t start yet, ” yowled one voice above the noise.

       “Where are the WindClan representatives? We must wait

       until al the Clans are present. ”

       On top of the rock, Bluestar stepped forward. Her gray

       fur glowed almost white in the moonlight. “Cats of al Clans,

       welcome, ” she meowed in a clear voice. “It is true that

       WindClan is not present, but Brokenstar wishes to speak

       anyway. ”

       Brokenstar padded noiselessly up to stand beside

       Bluestar. He surveyed the crowd for a few moments, his

       orange eyes burning. Then he took a deep breath and

       began. “Friends, I come to speak to you tonight about the

       needs of ShadowClan—”

       But he was interrupted by raised, impatient voices from

       below.

       “Where is Tal star? ” cried one.

       “Where are the WindClan warriors? ” yowled another.

       Brokenstar stretched up to his ful height and lashed his

       tail from side to side. “As the leader of ShadowClan, it is

       my right to address you here! ” he growled in a voice ful of

       menace. The crowd fel into an uneasy silence. Al around

       him, Firepaw could smel the acrid tang of fear.

       Brokenstar yowled again. “We al know that the hard

       time of leaf-bare, and late newleaf, have left us with little

       prey in our hunting grounds. But we also know that

       WindClan, RiverClan, and ThunderClan lost many kits in the

       freezing weather that came so late this season.

       ShadowClan did not lose kits. We are hardened to the cold

       north wind. Our kits are stronger than yours from the

       moment they are born. And so we find ourselves with many

       mouths to feed, and too little prey to feed them. ”

       The crowd, stil silent, listened anxiously.

       “The needs of ShadowClan are simple. In order to

       survive, we must increase our hunting territory. That is why I

       insist that you al ow ShadowClan warriors to hunt in your

       territories. ”

       A shocked but muted growl rippled through the crowd.

       “Share our hunting grounds? ” cal ed the outraged voice

       of Tigerclaw.

       “It is unprecedented! ” cried a tortoiseshel queen from

       RiverClan. “The Clans have never shared hunting rights! ”

       “Should ShadowClan be punished because our kits

       thrive? ” yowled Brokenstar from the Great Rock. “Do you

       want us to watch our young starve? You must share what

       you have with us. ”

       “Must! ” spat Smal ear furiously from the back of the

       crowd.

       “Must, ” repeated Brokenstar. “WindClan failed to

       understand this. In the end, we were forced to drive them

       out of their territory. ”

       Snarls of outrage burst from the crowd, but Brokenstar’s

       caterwaul rang loud above them: “And, if we have to, we wil

       drive you al from your hunting grounds in order to feed our

       hungry kits. ”

       There was instant silence. On the other side of the

       clearing, Firepaw heard a RiverClan apprentice start to

       mutter something, but he was quickly hushed by an elder.

       Satisfied that he had every cat’s attention, Brokenstar

       continued. “Each year, the Twolegs spoil more of our

       territory. At least one Clan must remain strong, if al the

       Clans are to survive. ShadowClan thrives while you al

       struggle. And there may come a time when you wil need us

       to protect you. ”

       “You doubt our strength? ” hissed Tigerclaw. His pale

       eyes glared threateningly at the ShadowClan leader, and

       his powerful shoulders rippled with tension.

       his powerful shoulders rippled with tension.

       “I do not ask for your answer now. ” Brokenstar ignored

       the warrior’s chal enge. “You must each go away and

       consider my words. But bear this in mind: Would you prefer

       to share your prey, or be driven out and left homeless and

       starving? ”

       Warriors, elders, and apprentices looked at one another

       in disbelief. In the anxious pause that fol owed, Crookedstar

       stepped forward. “I have already agreed to al ow

       ShadowClan some hunting rights in the river that runs

       through our territory, ” he meowed quietly, gazing down on

       his Clan.

       Horror and humiliation rippled through the RiverClan

       cats at their leader’s words.

       “We were not consulted! ” cried a grizzled silver tabby.

       “I feel that this is best for our Clan. For al the Clans, ”

       Crookedstar explained, his voice heavy with resignation.

       “There are plenty of fish in the river. It is better to share our

       prey than to spil blood fighting over it. ”

       “And what of ThunderClan? ” Smal ear croaked.

       “Bluestar? Have you, too, agreed to this outrageous

       demand? ”

       Bluestar unwaveringly met the old cat’s gaze. “I have

       made no agreement with Brokenstar except that I shal

       discuss his proposal with my Clan after the Gathering. ”

       “Wel, at least that’s something, ” muttered Graypaw in

       Firepaw’s ear. “We’l show them we’re not as soft as that

       yel ow-bel ied RiverClan. ”

       Brokenstar spoke up again, his rasping voice sounding

       arrogant and strong after Crookedstar’s surrender. “I also

       bring news that is important to the safety of your kits. A

       ShadowClan cat has turned rogue and spurned the warrior

       code. We chased her out of our camp, but we do not know

       where she is now. She looks a mangy old creature, but she

       has a bite like TigerClan. ”

       Firepaw’s fur bristled. Could Brokenstar possibly be

       talking about Yel owfang? He pricked up his ears, curious

       to hear more.

       “She is dangerous. I warn you—do not offer shelter to

       her. And”—Brokenstar paused dramatical y—“until she is

       caught and kil ed, I urge you to keep a close eye on your

       kits. ”

       Firepaw knew from the nervous growl that rumbled in the

       throats of the ThunderClan cats that they, too, had thought

       of Yel owfang. The bold she-cat had done nothing to endear

       herself to her reluctant hosts, and Firepaw guessed it

       wouldn’t take much to drum up hatred against her—even

       the words of a despised enemy like Brokenstar would be

       enough.

       The ShadowClan warriors began to push their way out of

       the throng of cats. Brokenstar leaped down from the rock,

       and his warriors immediately surrounded him and escorted

       him away from Fourtrees, back into ShadowClan territory.

       The remaining ShadowClan cats fol owed quickly behind,

       including the undersize tabby Lionheart had questioned

       earlier. But among the other ShadowClan apprentices, the

       tabby no longer looked unusual y smal —they al looked tiny

       and undernourished, more like kits of three or four moons

       than ful -fledged apprentices.

       “What do you think of al that? ” Graypaw mewed in a low

       voice.

       Ravenpaw bounded over before Firepaw could reply.

       “What’s going to happen now? ” he wailed, his fur fluffed up

       in alarm and his eyes wider than ever.

       Firepaw didn’t answer. The elders of ThunderClan were

       gathering nearby, and he was straining to hear what they

       were saying.

       “That must be Yel owfang he was talking about, ” growled

       Smal ear.

       “Wel, she did snap at Goldenflower’s youngest kit the

       other day, ” murmured Speckletail darkly. She was the

       oldest nursery queen, and fiercely protective of al the kits.

       “And we’ve left her behind, with the camp virtual y

       unguarded! ” wailed One-eye, who for once seemed to be

       having no trouble hearing everything.

       “I tried to tel you she was a danger to us, ” hissed

       Darkstripe. “Bluestar has to listen to reason now and get rid

       of her before she harms any of our young! ”

       Tigerclaw strode up to the group. “We must return to

       camp at once and deal with this rogue! ” he yowled.

       Firepaw didn’t stop to hear more. His mind was

       spinning. Loyal as he was to his Clan, he just couldn’t

       believe that Yel owfang would be a danger to kits.

       Frightened for the old she-cat, burning with questions only

       she could answer, he raced away from Graypaw and

       Ravenpaw without a word.

       He charged up the hil side and pelted through the forest.

       Had he been mistaken about Yel owfang? If he warned her

       about the danger she was in, would he be risking his own

       position in ThunderClan? Whatever trouble he got himself

       into, he had to find out the truth from her before the other

       cats got back to the camp.



  

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