Outcast

Chapter 7

“I’ve got a plan,” Hollypaw announced. She and Cinderpaw had cleared the old bedding out of the elders’ den and were clawing fresh moss from around the roots of an oak tree. Shreds of mist drifted among the trees, while overhead the sun was struggling to break through a covering of cloud.

Cinderpaw stopped with her claws deep in the soft green covering. “What plan?”

“It’s about becoming a warrior.” Hollypaw left the ball of moss she was gathering and padded over to sit on a twisted root beside her friend. “It’s so confusing, learning about fighting and hunting and all the stuff about the warrior code.

I can’t think of everything at once, so I’m going to concentrate on one thing at a time.”

Cinderpaw blinked. “I don’t get it.”

Hollypaw sighed; it seemed straightforward enough to her.

“I’m going to start with hunting. If a Clan isn’t well fed, it can’t defend its borders and fight battles. I’ll practice and practice until I’m really good at it. Then I’ll go on to something else.”

Her friend started clawing up the moss again. “I think that sounds mouse-brained,” she mewed. “I mean, you can’t stop doing everything else, can you? Are you going to leave me to finish the bedding while you go off looking for prey?”

Hollypaw swiped out a paw, claws sheathed, just missing Cinderpaw’s ear. “No, of course I’m not. I know I’ll have to do duties and training sessions and all that. But I’m going to concentrate on hunting.”

Cinderpaw let out a faint snort of amusement. “I’d like to hear what Brackenfur has to say if he thinks you’re not concentrating on fighting.”

Exasperated, Hollypaw snagged up a bit of moss and tossed it at her friend. She expected Cinderpaw to toss some back at her, but instead the young she-cat stopped what she was doing and looked up at her, blue eyes serious.

“Honestly, Hollypaw, I don’t think this is a good idea.

Being a warrior means you have to do everything together.

You can’t put stuff in order. I know I’m not explaining it very well, but—”

“No, you’re not,” Hollypaw snapped, then stopped herself.

Cinderpaw was her best friend, and she didn’t want to quarrel with her. “Sorry, Cinderpaw,” she went on. “I just think this will be a way that will work for me. You don’t have to join in if you don’t want to.”

Cinderpaw reached up to touch Hollypaw’s nose with her ear. “It’s okay. And you know I’ll help if I can.”

By the time Hollypaw and Cinderpaw had finished refreshing the elders’ bedding, Thornclaw and Brackenfur were gathering the apprentices together in the middle of the clearing.

“Are we hunting?” Hollypaw asked eagerly.

It was Thornclaw who replied. “No, Cloudtail and I are taking our apprentices to the mossy clearing for some advanced battle training. You and Lionpaw can come along and watch.”

“And join in if you want to,” Brackenfur added.

Cinderpaw gave an excited little bounce. “Let’s go!”

Her mentor, Cloudtail, padded up behind her and flicked her on the shoulder with his tail. “You be careful of that leg.

If I’m asking too much of you, I want to know.”

Cinderpaw’s excitement faded. “My leg’s fine, Cloudtail. It won’t hold me back from being a warrior, will it?”

“I hope not. We’ll have to see,” was Cloudtail’s discouraging response.

Hollypaw pressed her muzzle against Cinderpaw’s. “Don’t worry. You will be a warrior. I just know it.”

Ashfur came padding over with Lionpaw from the apprentices’ den. “Are we all ready?” the gray warrior asked.

“Where’s Honeypaw?”

“Sandstorm took her on a hunting patrol,” Brackenfur replied. “She’ll join us later.”

The clouds had cleared away and the sun was burning up the mist. In the shadow of the trees the grass was still laden with dew. Hollypaw brushed past a clump of fern and flicked her ears as droplets fell on her head. The undergrowth was full of exciting scents and sounds; she longed to put her plan into practice on a hunting patrol, instead of going to a training session when she would have to spend most of her time watching.

With four apprentices and their mentors, the clearing was crowded. Hollypaw sat in a sunny spot at one side with Brackenfur. Lionpaw and Ashfur were a couple of tail-lengths away. Hollypaw tried to hide a yawn as Cloudtail and Thornclaw demonstrated a move to the two older apprentices: Cloudtail leaped into the air with a twist so that he came down on Thornclaw’s shoulders.

“Now you try,” he invited Cinderpaw.

Cinderpaw crouched to face her mentor and launched herself into the air. She got the twist right, but she hadn’t leaped high enough, so that instead of landing on Cloudtail’s shoulders she blundered clumsily into his side, and he pinned her down with one paw on her chest.

“Not bad for a first try,” he commented, letting her get up, “but you need more strength in that leap. Is your leg bothering you?”

Cinderpaw blinked. “No, it’s fine. I’ll get it right next time.”

“And don’t forget,” Thornclaw added, “in a real fight your enemy won’t stand still and wait for you to land on him.

You’ve got to anticipate his next move.”

“Let me have a try,” Poppypaw meowed.

As the training session went on, Hollypaw noticed that Lionpaw was fidgeting. “I can do that,” he told Ashfur. “Can I try it?”

Ashfur hesitated. “It’s advanced stuff,” he pointed out.

“There’s no point in trying before you’re ready.”

“I am ready,” Lionpaw insisted, his fur starting to fluff up.

Ashfur shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Hollypaw watched nervously as Lionpaw and his mentor moved out into the clearing, well away from the other practice session.

“Go on, then, show me,” Ashfur mewed.

Lionpaw leaped into the air, sunlight turning his golden pelt to flame. With all four paws off the ground he twisted and came down perfectly balanced on Ashfur’s shoulders.

Ashfur let out a grunt of surprise, while Hollypaw stared in astonishment. How had Lionpaw learned how to do that move so perfectly?

“See?” Lionpaw challenged his mentor as he leaped to the ground. “Now will you be a bit tougher on me?”

“You want tough?” There was the hint of a growl in Ashfur’s voice, and his blue eyes gleamed. “Be careful what you wish for, Lionpaw.”

Hollypaw felt the fur on her shoulder begin to rise. Was Ashfur joking?

“I can cope with anything,” Lionpaw insisted.

Ashfur leaped on Lionpaw, landing a hard blow on his ear.

Lionpaw rolled to one side, raking his hind paws down Ashfur’s flank. A heartbeat later he was back on his paws, leaping into the air and landing on his mentor’s shoulders in the move Cloudtail had just demonstrated. Ashfur reared up on his hind paws, shaking off Lionpaw; Hollypaw winced at the thud as her brother hit the ground. Instantly his mentor jumped on top of him and the two cats wrestled together in a screeching tangle of fur, rolling closer to the other apprentices.

Poppypaw had to dodge to one side to avoid them.

Thornclaw curled his tail around her shoulders and drew her to the side of the clearing. Cloudtail and Cinderpaw joined them, their training session forgotten as they stared at the furious battle.

Ashfur was fighting as if Lionpaw was a warrior—but so was Lionpaw! Hollypaw watched in amazement as he bit down on Ashfur’s tail, then jerked it hard so that Ashfur was unbalanced and fell on his side. She’d seen Berrynose and his littermates practicing that move just before they were made warriors; she hadn’t expected to learn it for at least another moon.

Hollypaw stiffened as she saw flecks of scarlet on Ashfur’s gray pelt. Lionpaw would get into big trouble for fighting with claws unsheathed! Then she noticed that her brother was bleeding, too. Ashfur’s blue eyes were blazing with fury, as if he’d forgotten this wasn’t a real battle.

“They’re hurting each other!” She turned to Brackenfur.

“Can’t you make them stop?”

Before Brackenfur could do anything, Ashfur launched himself on top of Lionpaw and held him down with both forepaws on his chest. “Was that tough enough for you?” he panted.

But Lionpaw wouldn’t give in. He went on battering at Ashfur’s belly with his hind paws, twisting from side to side in an effort to throw off the heavier cat. Ashfur raised his paw, aiming a blow at Lionpaw’s ear.

“That’s enough.” Brackenfur bounded forward, his voice sharp with shock. “Ashfur, let him up. Lionpaw, sheathe your claws. This bout is over.”

Ashfur turned his head to glare at Brackenfur. The blaze in his blue eyes faded and he stepped back. Lionpaw scrambled to his paws, while Brackenfur thrust himself between them in case the fight broke out all over again. Lionpaw’s chest heaved as he fought for breath. The fur on one shoulder was torn and blood was welling out of the scratches; Hollypaw could see the marks of Ashfur’s claws down his side.

But Ashfur was bleeding too, from one ear and a hind leg.

After a heartbeat to catch his breath, he meowed loudly, “Well done, Lionpaw. You fought like a warrior.” Looking around, he added, “I hope the rest of you were watching. You should all be trying to be as good as Lionpaw.”

Cinderpaw and Poppypaw exchanged glances; they both looked too shocked to say anything. Even Hollypaw couldn’t bring herself to congratulate her brother. The way the practice session had turned savage had disturbed her.

“Come on.” Ashfur beckoned to Lionpaw with his tail.

“That was so good, you don’t have to do any more training.

We’ll go back to camp, and you can have first pick of the fresh-kill pile.”

“Thanks, Ashfur!” Lionpaw was recovering now, his breathing easier and his fur beginning to lie flat again.

“I’ll tell Firestar, too,” his mentor added. “ThunderClan will have a warrior to be proud of when you finish your apprenticeship.”

Lionpaw’s amber eyes glowed. He padded off beside Ashfur with his head and tail held high. No cat spoke until they had disappeared into the undergrowth, heading for the camp.

Then Cloudtail puffed out his breath as if he’d been holding it. “Right. Let’s see what the rest of you can do.”

“Are you going to fight us like that?” Poppypaw asked nervously.

It was Brackenfur who replied. “Certainly not.” His fur was still ruffled, Hollypaw could tell, either by the ferocity of the fight or by how well her brother had fought. “We’ll just go on practicing the techniques. And we’ll all keep our claws sheathed.”

Hollypaw joined in, but she found it hard to concentrate.

She could still see in her mind the blaze of rage in Ashfur’s eyes, as if he’d forgotten he was fighting his own apprentice.

When the training session was over, Hollypaw ran back to camp ahead of the other apprentices. She wanted to make sure her brother was okay.

She found Lionpaw asleep in their den, half buried in a nest of moss and bracken. He was breathing deeply and didn’t stir when Hollypaw padded up and sniffed the wound on his shoulder. The bleeding had stopped; dried blood was crusted around the scratches and the fur was torn loose and bloodstained. Obviously he hadn’t been to Leafpool to have the wound checked out.

“Mouse-brain,” Hollypaw murmured affectionately.

Lionpaw still didn’t stir as she rasped her tongue over his shoulder until the wound was clean. It wasn’t surprising that he was exhausted. Hollypaw touched her nose gently to his ear and left him to sleep. Pushing her way out through the brambles, she spotted her father by the fresh-kill pile.

“Hi,” Brambleclaw meowed. “I’m getting a hunting patrol together. Do you want to come?”

Earlier that morning Hollypaw would have jumped at the chance, but now she had more important things on her mind. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she began, launching into the story of Lionpaw’s fight with Ashfur. “I don’t think Ashfur should have pushed Lionpaw that hard,” she finished. “I thought they were going to tear each other apart!”

Brambleclaw let out a soothing purr. “You don’t need to worry. I met Ashfur in the forest, and he told me all about it.

He’s really pleased with Lionpaw.” His eyes narrowed, half in amusement, half embarrassment. “He told me Lionpaw’s going to make a warrior like his father. I assume that was a compliment.”

Hollypaw raked her claws in the ground in frustration.

“But you didn’t see it,” she protested. “It was really scary.”

Brambleclaw’s tail tip flicked. “Fighting is scary,” he pointed out. “If we have to fight another Clan, they won’t sheathe their claws.”

“But we’re not fighting another Clan now.”

“Sooner or later there will be a battle, and we have to be ready for it. One day Lionpaw will need all his skills. I’m proud of him. I’m proud of all my kits: Lionpaw is a brilliant fighter, Leafpool tells me Jaypaw knows all the herbs already…”

“And what about me?” Hollypaw asked, trying to push down a pang of jealousy. Aren’t I special too?

Brambleclaw leaned over to give her ear a comforting lick.

“You’re my little thinker,” he purred. “I rely on you to make the best decisions—and to keep your brothers in line!”

Hollypaw brightened. That was a skill she would need if she was ever to be Clan leader.

“Good,” Brambleclaw mewed. “Now, what about this hunting patrol?”

“But why can’t Berrynose come?” Honeypaw complained.

“Because he’s the most annoying furball in the forest,” Hollypaw muttered through gritted teeth, though not loud enough for her friend to hear her.

Sandstorm and Honeypaw had joined Brambleclaw and Hollypaw on the hunting patrol. Honeypaw hadn’t arrived at the training session until it was almost over, and she had kept trying to tell every cat how much better Berrynose could perform the fighting techniques. Now Hollypaw was finding it hard to sense prey, because her fellow apprentice was still meowing on about the cream-colored warrior.

“Berrynose was on the dawn patrol,” Sandstorm explained, with more patience than Hollypaw could have mustered. “He deserves a rest.”

“But we’d catch much more if he was with us,” Honeypaw insisted. “He’s a brilliant hunter.”

“Well, we’ll just have to do the best we can without him,” Sandstorm mewed.

Hollypaw thought that Honeypaw must have missed the sarcastic edge to the ginger she-cat’s tone. She just kept on babbling about Berrynose until Hollypaw wanted to wrap her tail around her friend’s muzzle to keep it shut. Exasperated, she ran ahead a little way, trying to get out of range of Honeypaw’s voice.

Sunhigh was just past. Golden rays warmed Hollypaw’s fur, while her paws padded through cool, lush grass. The trees were thick with birdsong and the air was laden with fresh green scents. She bounded forward until the sound of the patrol had faded behind her. At the top of a rise, she halted.

Ahead of her, trees grew closer together, the spaces between them choked by bracken and briar, and for a few heartbeats she wasn’t sure where she was. She was a long way past the entrance to the tunnels, and she couldn’t spot any other familiar landmarks. Then she picked up the faint sound of running water and realized that she stood at the very edge of ThunderClan’s hunting territory, not far from the WindClan border.

Everything around her was peaceful, but something made Hollypaw’s fur prickle with apprehension. Her paws were tugging her to run back and find the rest of the patrol. You’re not a kit! she scolded herself. This is ThunderClan territory. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

She would go back, she decided, but she would catch a piece of prey first, just to prove to herself that she wasn’t a coward who ran away from nothing. She raised her head and opened her jaws to draw in a long breath.

Cat scent! Hollypaw tasted it carefully, wondering if WindClan was trespassing on ThunderClan territory again.

But it wasn’t WindClan scent. It wasn’t any cat scent Hollypaw had encountered before. Had a group of rogues invaded the territory?

“Are you okay?”

Hollypaw let out a long breath of relief at the sound of her father’s voice. She turned to see Brambleclaw padding up to her, his powerful shoulders brushing through the bracken.

Sandstorm and Honeypaw followed a little way behind.

“I’m fine,” Hollypaw replied, trying to hide how the strange scent had spooked her. “I can scent cats, but it’s not any scent I know.”

Brambleclaw tasted the air, then glanced sharply at Sandstorm, who was doing the same. The ginger she-cat took a pace toward him and murmured something in his ear; Brambleclaw nodded. His amber eyes looked troubled.

“Run back to camp, as fast as you can,” he meowed to both apprentices. “Tell Firestar to send more warriors.”

“But not Stormfur or Brook,” Sandstorm added.

Hollypaw couldn’t understand the urgency in the warriors’ voices. The tension in their fur crackled like greenleaf lightning.

“What is it?” Honeypaw asked. “What’s the matter?”

“We can’t leave you here if there’s danger,” Hollypaw protested.

“Just do as you’re told!” Sandstorm snapped.

“There’s no danger,” Brambleclaw added quietly. “But we need more warriors. Go now.”

Hollypaw and Honeypaw exchanged one scared glance and pelted back through the forest toward the camp. Fear made Hollypaw’s fur stand on end, and her heart thudded with more than the speed of her running.

“Firestar!” she yowled as she thrust her way through the thorn tunnel. “Firestar, come quickly!”

As Hollypaw skidded to a stop beneath the Highledge, she spotted Mousefur jerk awake from her place outside the elders’ den and leap to her paws, tail lashing. Cloudtail erupted from the warriors’ den, his fur bristling and his claws scraping the ground. Behind him, Brightheart and Sorreltail popped their heads through the branches, eyes wide with alarm. Daisy swept her tail protectively around her two tiny kits, who were playing in a patch of sunlight near the nursery, and herded them back inside.

Firestar emerged from his den on the Highledge. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“Strange cats…” Hollypaw gasped, still trying to catch her breath.

“Near the WindClan border,” Honeypaw added.

“Brambleclaw said—” Hollypaw whirled around as yowling broke out behind her. More cats were tumbling through the thorn tunnel into the camp: Graystripe was in the lead, with Birchfall and Whitewing just behind.

But that wasn’t what made Hollypaw arch her back while every hair on her pelt rose and tingled. With the three ThunderClan cats were two others that she didn’t recognize: a massive dark brown tabby tom and a pure black she-cat, who was smaller and skinnier than the cats of ThunderClan.

Graystripe and the two younger warriors stood close around them, not allowing them any farther into the camp. As the she-cat opened her jaws to speak, Graystripe silenced her with a threatening hiss.

Hollypaw flexed her claws and let her tail tip flick to and fro. The scent coming from the two strange cats was the same one she had picked up near the WindClan border. The scent of intruders!