Midnight

Chapter 19

Brambleclaw raced panic-stricken among the trees, bolting back and forth in a frantic effort to escape. Behind him he could hear the throaty bark of the dog that had leaped out from a thicket as he and his companions reached the wood. Glancing back, he saw the lean black shape crash through a clump of bracken, its tongue lolling. He could almost feel its sharp white teeth meeting in his pelt.

“StarClan help us!” Feathertail gasped as she dashed beside him.

They had fallen behind the other cats, though Brambleclaw heard a yowl of terror coming from somewhere just ahead.

“Dodge!” he called. “Try to lose it!”

The dog barked again, and from farther off Brambleclaw heard a Twoleg shouting. He lost sight of his pursuer, and he slowed down as a wave of relief swept over him; the creature must have gone back to its Twoleg.

Then he heard the dog’s snuffling breath, and it shot out from behind a fallen tree trunk. For a heartbeat Brambleclaw stared into eyes like flames. Whirling around, he fled through the trees as the barking started up again.

Confused by fear, he remembered how Firestar and the other cats of ThunderClan had led the dog pack through the forest until they fell into the gorge and drowned. But how could he and his friends lead this dog away, here in unknown territory?

“Climb trees!” he yowled, hoping his friends could hear him above the fierce barking that sounded louder than ever.

He glanced upward as he ran, but every tree seemed to have a smooth trunk with no low-growing branches. He could not stop and search; the beast would be on him at once.

Had it already caught one of the others? Was he about to find one of his companions terribly injured like Brightheart, or worse, dead?

His breath was rasping in his throat and his paws burned with every step; he knew he could not keep up this pace for much longer. Then a voice hissed at him from somewhere above his head. “Up here—quick!”

Brambleclaw skidded to a halt beside a tree that was covered with ivy. A pair of eyes gleamed down at him. In the same heartbeat the dog crashed through a tangle of briars behind him. With a terrified yowl, Brambleclaw launched himself upward, clawing frantically at the ivy stems. They gave way under his weight, and for a heart-stopping moment he swung helplessly; the dog leaped up and he heard the snap of its teeth and felt hot breath on his fur.

Then he managed to sink his claws into a stronger ivy stem and hauled himself upward again. Squirrelpaw appeared below, shot past the nose of the dog, and clawed her way up the tree, overtaking Brambleclaw to crouch shivering on a branch. Brambleclaw scrambled up beside her.

He spotted Stormfur and Tawnypelt clinging to another branch just above his head, and Crowpaw scrabbled his way up to join them from the other side of the trunk.

“Feathertail!” gasped Brambleclaw. “Where’s Feathertail?”

The dog was on its hind legs at the bottom of the tree, less than a foxlength below him. Its claws tore at the ivy while it snarled furiously, drool spilling out of its jaws. The sound of the Twoleg shouting came again, but a long way off.

Then Brambleclaw noticed Feathertail crouching in the briars just behind the dog, staring out in terror. If she tried to run for the safety of the tree, the dog would cut her off. How long, Brambleclaw wondered, before it scented her?

Suddenly he heard Crowpaw spit furiously. “Fox dung! I’ve had enough of this.” The WindClan apprentice hurled himself out of the tree, narrowly missing the dog, and hit the ground just beyond it. The dog spun around and gave chase, its paws scrabbling on the dry leaves. While it was distracted, Feathertail bolted out of the briars and across the clearing to make a desperate leap for a thin branch that swung alarmingly under her weight.

“Crowpaw!” Brambleclaw yowled.

The gray-black tom had vanished into the bushes.

Brambleclaw could hear the dog crashing about, barking wildly, and the shouts of the Twoleg growing closer. Then Crowpaw appeared again, his belly close to the ground as he ran all-out for the tree. The dog was panting just behind him. Brambleclaw squeezed his eyes tight shut and opened them again in time to see Crowpaw take a flying jump and dig his claws into the ivy.

At the same moment the Twoleg lumbered into the clearing and made a dive for the dog’s collar. He was red-faced and yelling furiously. The dog dodged to one side, but the Twoleg managed to grab it and clip a lead onto its collar. The dog’s barks changed to whining as it was dragged away, clawing the grass and leaf mold as it struggled to return to its prey.

“Thank you, Crowpaw!” Feathertail gasped, still clinging to the swaying branch. “You saved my life!”

“Yes, you did,” meowed Brambleclaw. “Well-done.”

Crowpaw scrambled higher until he reached the branch beside Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw. “Big brute,” he muttered, looking embarrassed. “Tripped over its own paws.”

Feathertail’s blue eyes were fixed on him, huge as moons with shock. “It would have caught me for sure if you hadn’t come to help me,” she whispered.

As Brambleclaw’s fear ebbed, he remembered for the first time the voice that had called him up into the tree. It wasn’t one of the Clan cats. Looking up again, he saw a pair of eyes gleaming from the leaves a little way above his head. Then the leaves rustled and an unfamiliar cat emerged.

It was a tabby tom, old and plump with rumpled fur that looked as if he never bothered to groom himself. His move-ments were slow and careful as he clambered down the tree to join the six journeying cats.

“Well,” he rasped. “You’re a fine bunch, an’ no mistake. Don’t you know that that dog runs loose every day, ’round about sunrise?”

“How would we know that?” Tawnypelt spat. “We’ve never been here before.”

The tom blinked at her. “No need to get so snippy. You’ll know another time, won’t you? Get out o’ the way then.”

“There won’t be another time,” Stormfur meowed. “We’re just passing through.”

“Thank you for helping us,” Brambleclaw added. “I was beginning to think we’d never escape.”

The tabby ignored his thanks. “Just passin’ through, eh?” he mewed. “I’ll bet you’ve a story to tell. Why not stay awhile an’ share it wi’ me?” He stood up and braced himself, ready to jump down into the clearing.

“Down there?” Squirrelpaw sounded nervous. “What if that dog comes back?”

“It won’t. It’s gone home now. Come on.”

The old cat scrambled down the ivy-covered trunk and ungracefully dropped the last foxlength to the ground.

Looking up, he opened his jaws wide in a yawn. “Comin’?”

Brambleclaw leaped down after him; he wasn’t going to let this elder, or kittypet, or whatever he was, show more bravery than warriors. His companions joined him, clustering around to gaze uncertainly at the stranger.

“Who are you?” Stormfur asked. “Are you a kittypet?”

The old tom looked blank. “Kittypet?”

“Living with Twolegs,” Squirrelpaw mewed impatiently.

“Twolegs?”

“Oh, let’s go,” Crowpaw’s ears twitched in contempt. “There are bees in his brain. We won’t get any sense out of him.”

“Who’re you callin’ senseless, young fellow?” The tabby tom’s voice was a deep rumble, and his claws extended to sink into the leaves under his paws.

“Sorry,” Brambleclaw meowed hastily, with a glare at Crowpaw; the apprentice might have shown amazing courage, but that didn’t make him any less annoying. Turning to the old cat, he began to explain. “Twolegs, like the one who came to fetch the dog.”

“Oh, you’re talkin’ about Upwalkers. Why didn’t you say so? No, I don’t live with Upwalkers. Used to once, mind you.

Those were the days!” He settled down at the foot of the tree, gazing into the distance as if he were looking back at the young cat he had once been. “A fire to sleep by, an’ all the food I could eat.”

Brambleclaw wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

Firestar always said that kittypet food was nowhere near as tasty as fresh-kill you caught yourself. As for sleeping beside a fire… Brambleclaw remembered the fire that had swept through the ThunderClan camp, and the very thought of it made his fur prickle.

“Talking of food,” Crowpaw meowed loudly, “we need to get on and hunt. There should be prey somewhere among these trees. Here, you…” He stretched out a paw and prodded the old cat, who had drifted into a doze. “What’s the prey like around here?”

The tabby opened one amber eye. “Young cats,” he muttered. “Always dashin’ off. There’s no need to catch your own squeakers in these parts. Not if you know where to go.”

“Well, we don’t.” Squirrelpaw flicked her ears back irritably.

“Please, won’t you tell us?” Feathertail asked the old cat.

“We’re strangers here, so we don’t know the good places. We’ve been traveling a long way, and we’re all very hungry.”

Her gentle tone, and the pleading look she gave him from liquid blue eyes, seemed to win over the old cat. “I might show you,” he replied, scratching himself vigorously behind the ear with one hind paw.

“That would be very kind of you,” Stormfur added, coming to stand beside his sister.

The old cat’s gaze traveled over them, coming to rest at last on Brambleclaw. “Six of you,” he mewed. “That’s a powerful lot to feed. Who are you, anyway? Why don’t you have Upwalkers of your own?”

“We’re warriors!” Brambleclaw explained. He introduced himself and his companions. “I suppose you must be a loner,” he finished, “if you don’t live with Twolegs—I mean Upwalkers.”

Trying to sound as polite as Feathertail, he added, “Won’t you tell us your name?”

“Name? Don’t rightly reckon I’ve got one. Upwalkers feed me, though I don’t stay with them none. They call me different names—a cat can’t be expected to remember them all.”

“You must have had a name to begin with,” Squirrelpaw insisted, rolling her eyes at Brambleclaw.

“Yes, what was your name when you lived with the… the Upwalker who had the fire?” Feathertail asked.

The old cat gave the other ear a good scratch. “Well, now… that was a long time ago.” He let out a gusty sigh. “A long time and a good time. I caught more squeakers in that Upwalker den than you youngsters have seen in your whole lives.”

“So why did you leave, if it was as good as all that?”

Tawnypelt asked; Brambleclaw could see by her twitching tail that her patience was running out.

“My Upwalker died.” The tabby shook his head as if he were trying to flick away a clinging burr. “No more food… no more strokin’ by the fire, dozin’ on his lap… More Upwalkers came after that, an’ set traps for me, but I was cunnin’, see. I went away.”

“But what was your name?” Squirrelpaw hissed at him through clenched teeth. “What did the Upwalker call you?”

“Name… oh, yes, my name. Purdy, that’s right. He called me Purdy.”

“At last!” Squirrelpaw muttered.

“We’ll call you Purdy, then, shall we?” Brambleclaw meowed, batting Squirrelpaw’s muzzle with the tip of his tail.

The old tabby heaved himself to his paws. “Suit yourselves.

Now, do you want food or don’t you?”

He padded off through the trees. Brambleclaw exchanged a doubtful glance with his friends. “Do you think we should trust him?”

“No!” Crowpaw replied at once. “He was a kittypet. Warriors can’t trust kittypets.”

Tawnypelt murmured agreement, but Feathertail meowed, “We’re all so hungry, and we don’t know these woods. Would it do any harm, just for once?”

“I’m starving!” added Squirrelpaw, her claws flexing impatiently.

“StarClan know we could do with some help,” Stormfur mewed. “I can’t say I like it, but so long as we keep our eyes open…”

“Okay, then,” Brambleclaw decided. “We’ll risk it.”

He led the way, bounding quickly through the undergrowth to catch up to the old tom, who was ambling ahead as if he did not care whether they followed him or not. To Brambleclaw’s surprise, Purdy didn’t show them anywhere in the wood where they could catch prey. Instead he made straight for the far side, where a narrow strip of grass separated the last of the trees from a row of Twoleg nests. Purdy strolled confidently across the grass toward the nearest fence without even looking to see if there was danger.

“Hey!” Crowpaw halted on the edge of the wood.

“Where’s he taking us? I’m not going into a Twoleg nest!”

Brambleclaw halted too. For once he agreed with Crowpaw. “Purdy, wait!” he called. “We’re warriors—we don’t go into Upwalker places.”

The old cat paused at the bottom of the fence and looked back, his face creased in amusement. “Scared, are you?”

Crowpaw took a single step forward, his legs stiff and his neck fur bristling. “Say that again!” he hissed.

To Brambleclaw’s surprise, Purdy didn’t flinch a single whisker, even though Brambleclaw would bet that Crowpaw could have ripped him apart.

“Touchy, ain’t he?” the old cat mewed. “Don’t you worry none, young fellow. There’ll be no Upwalkers around just yet.

And there’s good food in their garden.”

Brambleclaw looked at the others. “What do you think?”

“I think we should give it a try,” meowed Stormfur. “We need food.”

“Yes, let’s just get on,” Tawnypelt muttered.

Feathertail nodded eagerly and Squirrelpaw gave a little excited bounce. Only Crowpaw stayed apart, staring ahead without replying to Brambleclaw’s question.

“Let’s go, then,” Brambleclaw meowed.

After a cautious glance from side to side he crossed the grass to join Purdy, and the rest of his companions followed, even Crowpaw, though Brambleclaw noticed he trailed behind with his gaze on the ground.

“Crowpaw knows about my saltwater dream,” Feathertail murmured into Brambleclaw’s ear. “He seemed in a good mood when he woke up, so I told him, before the dog started chasing us. I think he’s upset.”

“Well, he’ll have to get over it.” Brambleclaw’s patience was running short; he had enough to worry about without making allowances for Crowpaw’s wounded pride.

Feathertail shook her head doubtfully, but just then they caught up with Purdy, so she said no more.

When they were all together the old tabby pushed his way through a gap in the fence and led the way into the Twoleg garden. Brambleclaw’s nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar smells: at least two Twolegs, the acrid reek of a monster, though to his relief that was stale, and a whole mixture of unfamiliar plant scents. Some of the plants had huge, shaggy flower heads that bent under their own weight; Squirrelpaw sniffed one, and jumped back in surprise as it shed a shower of petals over her fur.

Purdy padded across the grass and sat in the middle of it, waving his tail invitingly. Coming up beside him, Brambleclaw saw a pool of water edged with some hard Twoleg stuff. Pale flowers and green leaves floated on the water, and in the depths he spotted a flash of gold, so bright that he instinctively glanced upward to see if the sun had appeared, but all the sky was still covered with cloud.

“It’s a fish!” Feathertail exclaimed. “A golden fish!”

“What? Fish aren’t golden!” Crowpaw sounded irritable.

“No, but these are.” Stormfur was sitting beside his sister, gazing into the water. “I’ve never seen anything like it. We don’t get those in the river.”

“Can you eat them?” Tawnypelt asked.

“Aye, there’s good eatin’ on one of those,” Purdy told her.

“I’m going to try!” Squirrelpaw gave the water an experimental dab with her paw.

“Not like that!” meowed Stormfur. “You’ll just disturb them and send them all to the bottom. Let me and Feathertail show you.”

The two RiverClan cats sat poised by the edge of the pool, their gazes fixed on the water. Then Feathertail flashed out a paw. A bright golden fish flew into the air in an arc of glittering raindrops and fell on the bank, where it lay wriggling and flopping.

“Someone grab it, before it falls back in,” Stormfur ordered.

Squirrelpaw, who was nearest, pounced on the fish and bit it behind the head. “It’s good!” she announced, swallowing.

Stormfur had already caught another fish, and soon Feathertail caught a third, so that Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw could feed. Brambleclaw tasted his fish with some suspicion, not knowing what he expected, but the flesh was succulent, and he polished it off rapidly.

When Stormfur hooked out the next one, he patted it over to Crowpaw. “Come on… it’s okay.”

Crowpaw gave the fish a contemptuous look. “We should be on our way, not messing about with Twoleg stuff. I would never have come if I’d thought the journey to the sun-drown place—or wherever—would take so long. I’m missing out on warrior training with my mentor.”

“I reckon you’re getting some pretty good warrior training here,” Stormfur pointed out.

“Come sit with me,” Feathertail meowed persuasively, “and I’ll teach you how we catch them.”

“Teach me as well, please!” Squirrelpaw demanded eagerly.

Crowpaw glanced scornfully at the ThunderClan apprentice. He padded across to Feathertail, and sat beside her on the side of the pool.

“That’s right,” she meowed. “The trick is not to let your shadow fall on the water. When you see a fish, scoop it up as quick as you can, before it has time to swim away.”

Crowpaw bent over the water, a paw half extended, and a moment later flashed it down into the pool. He scooped out a fish, but it turned in the air and fell back into the water, spattering Crowpaw with a shower of drops. Squirrelpaw let out a snicker and Brambleclaw glared at her.

“That was very good for a first try,” Feathertail soothed the angry apprentice. “Try again.”

But Crowpaw had backed away from the pool. He dipped his head and began licking the splashes of water from his fur, only to stop in disgust. “What sort of water is this? It’s salty!”

“No, it’s not,” mewed Stormfur in surprise.

Whatever he was going to say was drowned in a crash and an angry Twoleg yell. Brambleclaw looked up to see a Twoleg standing in the open doorway of the nest, shouting. He gripped something in one hand and hurled it at the cats; it landed in among the shaggy flowers just beyond Purdy.

“Uh-oh,” mewed the old tabby. “Time to go.”

He lumbered back to the gap in the fence. Brambleclaw and Stormfur followed; Tawnypelt and Squirrelpaw streaked ahead to slip through the gap first, with Feathertail on their heels.

Crowpaw came last; as he emerged from the garden and raced across the grass to the shelter of the trees, he was spitting fury.

“Why did you take us there?” he demanded, turning on Purdy. “We should never have trusted you. Did you want that Twoleg to catch us? The filthy fish weren’t even worth it.”

“Crowpaw, don’t,” Feathertail pleaded, dropping the fish she was carrying. “There’s nothing wrong with the fish or the water.”

“I tell you it tasted salty!” Crowpaw snapped.

Brambleclaw was about to intervene—they had wasted far too much time, first in fleeing from the dog and now in arguing—until he saw the glow in Feathertail’s eyes.

“You know why it tasted salty to you and not the rest of us, don’t you?” she meowed quietly, resting the tip of her tail on his flank. “It’s your saltwater sign, Crowpaw. You’ve had it at last!”

The gray-black cat opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He stared at the fish and then at Feathertail. “Are you sure?” he meowed, sounding astonished.

“Of course, you stupid furball,” Feathertail purred.

Brambleclaw thought that no other cat but Feathertail could call Crowpaw a stupid furball and get away unclawed. “Why else would water in a Twoleg pool taste salty? It’s StarClan’s sign that we’re still on the right track.”

Crowpaw blinked and let his fur lie flat along his spine.

“What’s all this about signs and salt water?” Purdy growled.

“We’re on a really important journey!” Squirrelpaw informed him excitedly. “StarClan sent us to find out something vital for our Clans.”

“Journey… where from? What Clans?”

Brambleclaw sighed. Even though he wanted to keep going, he guessed the old tabby was lonely; it seemed unkind to abandon him without even telling him why they were there. He had saved them from the dog, after all, and then led them to the shining golden fish.

“Come here into the bracken,” he meowed. “We won’t be seen there, and then we can tell you all about it.”

All the cats followed him; even Crowpaw didn’t object.

Stormfur and Feathertail shared the fish and Tawnypelt kept watch while Squirrelpaw poured out their story. Brambleclaw chipped in to correct her or explain when Purdy didn’t understand.

“StarClan?” the old tom meowed with a doubtful look when Squirrelpaw told him about Brambleclaw’s dream.

“Talking to you in dreams? I never heard o’ that before.”

The young apprentice gaped at him, her green eyes filled with disbelief that there could be a cat who did not know about StarClan.

“Just carry on,” Brambleclaw meowed to her, not willing to waste time in long explanations.

Squirrelpaw rolled her eyes at him, but went on without arguing. When she finished, the old loner was silent for a while—so long that Brambleclaw wondered if he had fallen asleep. Then he straightened up and opened his yellow eyes wide, with a fire in them that had not been there before. “I know about this sun-drown place,” he meowed unexpectedly.

“I’ve spoken to cats who’ve been there. It’s not far from here.”

“Where?” Squirrelpaw leaped to her paws. “How far?”

“Two, maybe three days’ travel,” Purdy replied. His eyes gleamed. “Tell you what, I’ll come with you an’ show you.”

His expression faded to disappointment when the forest cats said nothing. At last, Crowpaw voiced what Brambleclaw was thinking. “No way. You won’t be able to travel fast enough.”

“And I don’t remember inviting you,” Tawnypelt muttered.

“But if he knows the right way…” Stormfur mewed.

“Maybe we should let him come.”

“He’s bound to know the way through this Twolegplace,” Feathertail added, twitching her tail toward the rows and rows of dull red Twoleg nests that blocked their view of the horizon.

That was true enough, Brambleclaw thought, remembering the trouble they had met in the last Twolegplace. If Purdy really did know the way to the sun-drown place it might be quicker to go with him, even if he couldn’t move so fast.

Perhaps he was the guide StarClan had sent in response to Brambleclaw’s prayer. He seemed an unlikely savior, but he certainly had the courage of any forest cat.

“Okay,” he meowed, realizing with a jolt of surprise that the other cats were looking at him as if they expected him to make the decision. “I think he should come.”