Outcast

Chapter 4

Hollypaw slipped out under the brambles that sheltered the apprentice den. Gray clouds moved sluggishly across the sky and she could scent rain on the breeze. Shivering, she sat down, licking one paw and rubbing it over her face.

The dawn patrol was just leaving; Dustpelt was in the lead, with Mousewhisker, Sandstorm, and Honeypaw. Ferncloud popped her head out of the nursery, sniffed the air, and disappeared inside again. A heartbeat later, Birchfall and Berrynose appeared from the elders’ den, each carrying a huge wad of moss.

Hollypaw’s tail curled up in amusement. Good! Firestar put them back on apprentice duties. She watched them cross the camp and vanish into the thorn tunnel. “Make sure you squeeze all the water out of the fresh moss!” she called mischievously.

“Mousefur will claw you if her pelt gets damp!” Berrynose lashed his tail as he entered the tunnel, but neither of them stopped to reply.

A thin drizzle set in as the rest of the camp began to stir.

Lionpaw scrabbled out of the apprentice den behind Hollypaw, still looking half asleep, and blundered across the camp to the dirtplace tunnel. Brackenfur and Stormfur emerged from the warriors’ den and headed for the fresh-kill pile.

Hollypaw jumped up and bounded over to her mentor.

“Are we going hunting?”

Brackenfur shook his head. “All the prey will be in their holes. Maybe later.”

But Hollypaw’s paws were itching to be doing something.

She didn’t want to spend the morning hanging around the camp. “Can I go out by myself, then?” she asked.

“If you want,” her mentor replied. “Stay away from the borders, though. We don’t want any more trouble like yesterday.”

“I’ll be careful,” Hollypaw promised.

“And be back by sunhigh,” her mentor added. “We’ll have a training session.”

“Sure.” Hollypaw dashed off.

As she prowled away from the stone hollow, senses straining for any sign of prey, the rain grew steadily heavier, pattering on the leaves, filling every dip in the ground with water.

Each branch and tussock of grass was loaded with droplets that soaked Hollypaw’s fur as she brushed past. She started to think that Brackenfur had been right, and she wouldn’t catch anything, but for once that didn’t bother her too much. She wanted to be out of the camp, and she wanted to think.

Everything seemed to be getting much more complicated.

She needed to concentrate on her training, but her mind was continually tugging her one way or the other—to the future and wondering if she could ever be Clan leader, or to the past and the traces of those ancient cats. She saw herself standing on the Highledge, calling a summons to her Clan…

Hollypaw realized she had stopped concentrating on prey.

She was just standing in the forest, getting wetter and wetter.

Flicking drops from her ears, she dived into a hole in a sandy bank and crouched there, watching the hissing screen of rain a mouse-length from her nose. Her tongue rasped over her fur in an effort to dry herself off and get warm. She froze when she heard a scuffling from farther down the hole where she was sheltering. Something big—at least as big as she was—was coming up the tunnel behind her. Stupid! she scolded herself. She had been so wet, she hadn’t bothered to check if she had the burrow to herself.

She tensed her muscles and took a gulp of air, expecting to taste fox or even worse, badger. Instead, the scent of cat flooded into her jaws. And it was a familiar scent, too. Limp with relief, Hollypaw twisted around in the entrance to the hole.

“Jaypaw! What are you doing down there?”

Her brother squeezed into the sheltered space beside her.

His pelt smelled of earth and stale fox. “Nothing,” he mumbled. “Sheltering.”

“No, you’re not!” Hollypaw was annoyed that he was so obviously lying. “Your fur is dry. You must have been here since before the rain started.” When Jaypaw didn’t reply, she added, “You’ve been trying to get down into the tunnels again, haven’t you?”

Jaypaw’s paws scuffled the sandy earth. “What if I have?”

“It’s dangerous!” Hollypaw protested. “Think what happened to Lionpaw when the roof of that badger set fell in.

And remember what it was like in the cave. We nearly drowned. And—”

“I know all that,” Jaypaw interrupted.

“You’re not acting as if you do. It’s raining hard now. The tunnels will flood again. And you just stroll down there as if you were strolling into camp! Honestly, Jaypaw, I don’t know how you can be so mouse-brained.”

“You don’t have to go on,” her brother grumbled. “Anyway, I couldn’t get in. This is just an old foxhole. It doesn’t lead anywhere.”

“But you tried.” Why couldn’t Jaypaw see the trouble he was getting into? “I don’t see what’s so special about the caves. There’s nothing down there.”

“Yes, there is!” He crouched in front of her; his blue eyes gazed up at her so intensely that Hollypaw could hardly believe he was blind. He hesitated, twitching his ears, then went on. “The ancient cats spoke to me. When I go to the Moonpool my paws slip into their paw prints. And I used to hear their voices on the wind. But since we rescued the kits, I haven’t heard them. That’s why I have to get back into the tunnels.”

Hollypaw stretched her neck forward and gave Jaypaw a sympathetic lick on his ear. She couldn’t bear to hear the sorrow in his voice; he sounded as if he had lost something precious.

Jaypaw jerked his head away. “You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me, then.”

Jaypaw hesitated. His forepaws traced spirals in the earth.

“There were other cats in the caves,” he mewed at last.

Hollypaw was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Spirits of the ancient cats who lived here seasons ago.

One of them is called Fallen Leaves. He went down there in the ceremony to make him a warrior, and he never came out.

He showed me where to find the lost kits.”

Every hair on Hollypaw’s pelt rose. The ordeal in the caves had been bad enough without the thought of invisible cats watching them.

“The other cat is called Rock,” Jaypaw went on. “He’s old—I mean, really old. He was in the cave. He showed me that we would escape, and he helped me think of the way to do it.”

Hollypaw took a deep breath. Perhaps there was nothing to be afraid of. If Jaypaw was right, then neither they nor the kits would be alive if it weren’t for the help of the ancient cats.

“Why do you want to go back now?” she asked.

“I want to know why they don’t talk to me anymore,” Jaypaw mewed miserably. “Besides, they lived here once, too.

They might be able to tell us the best places to hunt or shelter.”

“We can find those things for ourselves.” Hollypaw looked out of the mouth of the burrow. The rain had stopped; above the trees ragged patches of blue were opening up as the last of the clouds scudded across the sky. Sunlight sparkled on raindrops, making the whole forest shimmer. “We should get back to camp,” she added.

“But don’t you understand?” Jaypaw’s voice rose. “It’s important, I know it is.”

For a moment Hollypaw was tempted to agree with him.

When Blackstar had mentioned the ancient cats, she too had felt their fascination. She would like to know more about them—but not enough to risk her life or Jaypaw’s.

“You’re important too,” she mewed. “Your Clan needs you, Jaypaw. You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when there’s no need.”

“All right,” Jaypaw muttered. He had a mutinous look on his face. Hollypaw stifled a sigh; she knew that look well.

Jaypaw might agree with her now, but he would go on doing exactly what he wanted. She gave him a nudge. “Let’s go.”

Jaypaw rose to his paws and shook loose earth off his pelt.

Hollypaw led the way into the open, setting down her paws carefully to avoid the worst of the wet grass.

“Hollypaw?”

She halted and glanced over her shoulder. “What?”

“You won’t tell any cat what I just told you?”

Hollypaw wasn’t sure how to reply. She wanted to go straight to Firestar or Leafpool and tell them about his crazy obsession with cats that died out long ago. If any cat could stop Jaypaw from risking his life, it would be his Clan leader or his mentor. But Jaypaw was her brother, and she would always be loyal to him first.

“No, I won’t.” She sighed. “I promise.”

“Mouse dung!” Hollypaw let out a cry of frustration as she leaped for the mouse, only to see it dart away from her claws and slip into safety down a hole. That was the second piece of prey she’d lost; she was starting to feel as if her paws didn’t belong to her anymore.

“Hollypaw, you’ve got to put your paws down lightly.”

Brackenfur never lost his temper with her, but even he was sounding impatient. “Remember that a mouse will feel your paw steps before it hears you or scents you.”

“Yes, I know,” Hollypaw mewed. That’s the first thing an apprentice learns about hunting. “I’m sorry.”

Brackenfur, Brook, and Stormfur had taken all the apprentices into the forest for a hunting session. Hollypaw wasn’t sure which of them had suggested making it into a competi-tion. Lionpaw was winning, with one of the biggest squirrels Hollypaw had ever seen, but all the others had amassed a good pile of fresh-kill. All she had managed to catch was one miserable shrew.

“Is there anything bothering you?” Brackenfur asked.

“You’re just not concentrating today.”

“No,” Hollypaw lied. “I’m fine.”

I would be, she told herself, if I wasn’t worrying about wanting to be Clan leader. Just because that’s what Tigerstar wanted doesn’t mean it’s wrong, does it? I know I’m his kin, but I’d never do what he did to gain power. And what about Jaypaw? If he gets himself killed looking for those ancient cats, it’ll be my fault!

Brook touched her nose sympathetically to Hollypaw’s ear.

“I had a lot of trouble when I first came here,” she admitted. “I was used to hunting on bare mountain slopes, and I couldn’t get the hang of how to hunt in the forest. One thing Stormfur taught me is that sometimes it helps to slide your paws forward while you’re stalking. That way a mouse can’t feel your paw steps. Like this,” she added, rubbing her paws softly over the moss.

“I never thought of that,” Hollypaw meowed. “I’ll give it a try.”

“It’s important to stay away from long grasses and fern, too,” Brook went on. “If you brush against them, the moving shadow will scare off the prey.”

Hollypaw nodded; she had known that, but with everything else on her mind she had forgotten.

“You’ll soon get the hang of it again,” the tabby she-cat assured her. “You’d be a great hunter in the mountains, because you have strong back legs for leaping.”

“You need to leap when you’re hunting?” Cinderpaw asked, padding up to listen.

“Yes. Here in ThunderClan, you mostly catch birds on the ground. But in the Tribe, we jump up to catch them when they’re taking off or landing.” A hint of pride tinged Brook’s voice. “We catch hawks like that, and sometimes even eagles.”

“How big are the eagles?” Lionpaw joined them. “Do they ever carry cats away?”

“Most of them aren’t strong enough to take a full-grown cat.” Brook sat down with her tail wrapped over her paws, while the rest of the apprentices clustered around to listen.

“They might be able to take kits or to-bes, but kits stay in the cave with their mothers, where it’s safe. And all the hunting patrols have at least one cave-guard with them.”

“What’s a to-be?” Poppypaw demanded.

“And what’s a cave-guard?” Honeypaw added.

“You’re to-bes,” Brook explained, sweeping her tail around to indicate all the apprentices. “Young cats who are learning the skills you need to be warriors. Cave-guards are, well, cats who guard the cave. They’re strong and trained to fight off hawks and eagles. Stormfur was a cave-guard when he lived with the Tribe, and I was a prey-hunter.”

Hollypaw was puzzled. “Do you mean that cats have separate duties? You don’t hunt and fight, like Clan cats?”

“No,” Brook replied. “When kits are born, our leader chooses what they’ll be. The biggest and strongest become cave-guards, and the fast, nimble ones become prey-hunters.”

“So you can’t choose for yourself? I wouldn’t like that,” Lionpaw mewed.

“It feels different when you grow up with it,” Brook assured him.

Lionpaw didn’t look convinced, but before he could say any more, Poppypaw broke in. “Tell us about your leader, and your medicine cat. Do StarClan choose them?”

Brook shook her head. “The Tribe of Rushing Water doesn’t know StarClan,” she explained. She waited until the shocked gasps had died down. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting walks our skies. We don’t have a leader and a medicine cat. In the Tribe, one cat is both. He’s called the Healer, and his name is Teller of the Pointed Stones.”

“Or Stoneteller,” Stormfur put in, padding up to sit beside his mate.

“What a weird name!” Poppypaw exclaimed.

Her sister Honeypaw gave her a nudge. “Don’t be so rude!

Tribe names are different from ours, that’s all.”

“Stoneteller has his den just off the main cave behind the waterfall,” Stormfur explained. “It’s full of pointed stones, rising up from the cave floor and hanging from the roof.

There’s a hole in the roof, and when it rains the floor is covered with pools of water. Stoneteller looks at the reflections in the water and reads signs there.”

“And he’s a medicine cat as well?” Hollypaw meowed. That’s a lot of power for one cat! “Does he have a deputy?”

“No, but eventually he’ll have a to-be—an apprentice,” Brook told her. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting will send him a sign so that he can choose a tiny kit who will become Stoneteller after him.”

Hollypaw felt a pang of envy. How much simpler it would be to have your life planned out! She wouldn’t have made her earlier mistake of choosing to be a medicine cat when she was really best suited to be a warrior. Sometimes her head had ached with the effort of learning all the different herbs.

Training to be a warrior was tough as well, but it didn’t feel like such an impossible task. There were fighting moves and hunting moves and all the details of the warrior code that had to be memorized. And if she wanted to be Clan leader she would have to learn the intricate relations between Clan and Clan, how to be diplomatic with her own warriors and the cats of other Clans, and how to react in a crisis.

She remembered watching Firestar on the border the day before. She had been impressed by how calm the ThunderClan leader had stayed, even when his own warriors were clearly at fault. That was the kind of leader Hollypaw wanted to be, one who relied on the warrior code to keep the peace instead of dragging her Clan into an unnecessary battle. A leader who wasn’t selfish or greedy, who put the good of her own Clan above everything, but still remembered the rights of the other Clans in the forest.

“I think there’s a mouse under the roots over there.”

Stormfur broke into her thoughts, pointing with his ears to the bottom of a nearby beech tree. “Why don’t you see if you can catch it?”

“Okay.”

The other apprentices scattered, keeping well away from the beech tree to give Hollypaw the best chance. Whiskers quivering, she tasted the air. Vole, not mouse, she decided. A heartbeat later she spotted it, a plump creature scuffling among the debris under the tree. She began to creep forward, sliding her paws over the moss in the way Brook had shown her. The vole seemed not to notice her at first, but as she dropped into a crouch, ready to pounce, it froze for a heartbeat, then darted away.

Hollypaw let out a yowl. Her first pounce brought her to the spot where the vole had been; instantly she leaped again and trapped it between her front paws just before it slipped into the safety of a crack between two rocks. She killed it with one blow of her paw.

“Well done!” Brackenfur meowed.

A warm feeling of triumph flooded Hollypaw from ears to tail tip. She picked up her prey and turned back to her mentor.

“See what I said about your strong back legs?” Brook reminded her, touching Hollypaw’s shoulder with the tip of her tail. “That was a great leap!”

“I think that’s enough for one day,” Brackenfur added.

“Let’s carry the prey back to camp. The Clan will eat well tonight.”

As Hollypaw followed him back to the clearing, carrying her vole and the shrew, she kept casting sidelong glances at Brook. She must love Stormfur a lot to give up everything she knew and come with him to a strange place and a strange way of life.

Curiosity bit at her, sharp as a fox’s fangs. She wanted to visit the Tribe and see how cats lived when they knew right from the start what kind of life they would have and what their responsibilities would be.

But they’re so far away! Hollypaw let out a sigh. I don’t suppose I’ll ever travel as far as the mountains.