Yellowfang’s Secret

Chapter 15

Screeches battered Yellowfang’s ears as warriors charged from their den, flinging themselves on the attackers.

Marmalade halted in the center of the clearing, his amber eyes glaring around. “Boulder! Red!” he yowled. “Where are you? We’ve come—” His caterwauling was cut off as Finchflight and Mudclaw leaped on top of him and he vanished in a flurry of furious teeth and claws.

Yellowfang raced across the clearing to join her Clanmates, but before she reached them she felt claws digging into her shoulders as a cat landed on her back. She staggered under the weight and almost fell. Twisting her head around, she recognized the fluffy white kittypet, Pixie.

For a moment Yellowfang was so shocked that she couldn’t remember any battle moves. Then she reared up on her hind paws and let herself fall backward. Pixie released her and scrambled away to avoid being squashed underneath her. Yellowfang jumped to her paws and sidestepped as the kittypet rushed at her again. Swiping at her with sheathed claws, she knocked the white she-cat over and pinned her down with both forepaws on her chest.

“What’s all this about?” she demanded as Pixie writhed beneath her paws, spitting in fury. She’s stronger than I expected, Yellowfang thought, struggling to hold her down.

“You stole our cats!” Pixie hissed, her green eyes blazing.

“What do you mean?” Yellowfang asked, bewildered.

But there was no answer. With one desperate heave, Pixie flung her off and vanished into the crowd of battling cats. More and more of them were pouring into the clearing, attacking the ShadowClan warriors with teeth and claws. As Yellowfang stared at the heaving, screeching mass, she realized that though her Clanmates were battle-trained, the kittypets had the advantage of surprise.

Will we lose this fight? she wondered, appalled.

She spotted Nutwhisker breaking free from a clawing knot of cats and staring around him with a look of utter shock. “These are kittypets!” he exclaimed.

A rangy gray tabby aimed a blow at him. “We don’t all live with housefolk!” he snarled into Nutwhisker’s ear. “You aren’t the only ones who can hunt down prey.”

Before he had finished speaking, Yellowfang was hurtling across the clearing to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her littermate. The gray tabby took one look at the cats facing him, claws extended, and turned tail, vanishing into the shadows.

“Get out of our camp!” Nutwhisker yowled, racing off in pursuit.

Yellowfang followed, but two more rogues lunged between her and Nutwhisker, knocking her to the ground. All the breath was driven out of her. Half-stunned, she heard the pounding paw steps of another cat and turned to face a new enemy, only to spot Raggedpelt skidding to a halt beside her. He hauled her to her paws with his claws in her scruff.

“Thanks!” she gasped.

Raggedpelt’s eyes were haunted, and there was a horrified expression on his face. “What are these cats doing here?” he hissed.

“I think they’re looking for Russetpaw and Boulder!” Yellowfang replied. If Hollyflower and Newtspeck hadn’t tried to boast to Marmalade, this wouldn’t be happening!

Raggedpelt opened his jaws to reply, but a loud screech cut him off.

“Help! Over here! The nursery!”

Spinning around, Yellowfang saw Rowanberry and Mousewing in the entrance to the nursery, trying to fight off a whole cluster of Twolegplace cats.

“They’re attacking the queens!” Raggedpelt growled as he sprang toward them. “These cats have no honor!”

Yellowfang pelted after him, and the two warriors fell upon the intruders from behind. For several heartbeats Yellowfang struck out blindly, with three or four cats surrounding her; then she and her Clanmates forced the kittypets back into the open, away from the nursery entrance. Yellowfang glimpsed Raggedpelt chasing one of them into the bushes.

A hard blow on her shoulder made her stagger; recovering, she found herself facing Marmalade. The ginger tom aimed another blow at her; Yellowfang ducked and raked her claws across his chest fur. With a snarl of fury Marmalade threw himself on top of her and the two cats grappled together, rolling over on the ground.

“You have no right to keep Red and Boulder here!” Marmalade hissed into Yellowfang’s ear.

“But they came of their own accord!” she protested. “They chose to stay!”

Marmalade wasn’t paying any attention. Yellowfang knew she had to do something to stop the battle. Wriggling free from the ginger tom, knowing she left tufts of her gray pelt in his claws, she looked around frantically. “Cedarstar!” she yowled, trying to make herself heard above the storm of battle.

She spotted the Clan leader as he buffeted a rogue about the ears; the rogue turned and fled into the darkness at the edge of the camp. Yellowfang rushed across the clearing to intercept Cedarstar before he rejoined the battle.

“Cedarstar!” she panted. “I know what’s going on!”

The Clan leader’s claws gleamed in the starlight. “What do you mean?” he snapped. Yellowfang guessed that he hadn’t heard Marmalade’s yowl as he burst into the clearing.

“When we were patrolling yesterday, we told a kittypet that Russetpaw and Boulder are living in ShadowClan. The kittypets think we’re keeping them imprisoned. They’ve come to get them back!”

“That’s madness!” Cedarstar roared.

Yellowfang nodded. “I know. But the kittypets don’t.”

As she spoke, Marmalade staggered up, bleeding from several scratches but still on his paws. “We know Red and Boulder are here,” he growled. “Give them to us!”

The Clan leader lashed his tail. “They’re not here. They’re out on patrol. And they’re not prisoners.”

Marmalade faced the Clan leader, his neck fur bristling. “So you say.”

Yellowfang had to admire the big tom’s courage. “They won’t believe anything unless Russetpaw and Boulder tell them,” she meowed to Cedarstar.

The Clan leader let out a snarl of anger and frustration. “Go and find them, then, and bring them back here. I know we can win this fight, but it’s better for the Clan if we end it quickly.”

Yellowfang dipped her head and dashed off, skirting groups of grappling cats. The patrol wasn’t in sight when she emerged from the tunnel, but she knew the direction they would return and bounded off to meet them. Now that she had a moment to think, she was aware of stinging pain all over her body, and realized that she was feeling the wounds of every cat in the battle. Her head clouded with agony, and she blinked to clear it.

We must finish this quickly!

Suddenly new cat scents washed over Yellowfang. Rounding a fallen tree, she skidded to a halt as she saw Raggedpelt, Featherstorm, and Hal facing one another. All three cats were panting and wild-eyed, a terrible tension singing among them.

“Tell me this cat isn’t my father,” Raggedpelt growled at Featherstorm.

His mother flicked her tail. “He gave up the right to be called that long ago. It was his decision.”

Raggedpelt’s eyes widened as he stared at Hal. “You knew all along? But when I found you, you didn’t say anything!”

Hal shrugged. “You want nothing to do with Twolegplace cats. I want nothing to do with the Clans.”

“You have no idea what it was like, growing up without a father.” Raggedpelt’s words sounded as if he were being choked. “And now I find out that my father was a kittypet! Everything my Clanmates taunted me with is true!”

Yellowfang felt her heart tear with sympathy for Raggedpelt, more painful than any wound. She took a pace toward him. “That doesn’t matter!” she told him. “Every cat knows that you are a ShadowClan warrior.”

Raggedpelt rounded on her, his teeth bared. “Stay out of this,” he snarled.

As Yellowfang gazed at him, unable to leave but not knowing what else she could say, the sounds of fighting drifted through the trees, screeches and the crackling of paws through undergrowth growing steadily nearer.

“You should never have come here,” Featherstorm snapped at Hal, then bounded away toward the noise of battle.

Raggedpelt turned to his father, stiff-legged with fury, his neck fur bristling and his tail bushed out to twice its size. “Leave now,” he ordered. “And never come back.”

Hal gave his chest fur a slow, deliberate lick. “You can’t tell me what to do, son,” he drawled.

“I am not your son!” Raggedpelt growled, taking a threatening step forward. “I am a ShadowClan warrior!”

“A warrior with kittypet blood in your veins,” Hal taunted him. “Will your so-called Clanmates ever forget that?”

With a roar of fury Raggedpelt sprang at him; his claws slashed across Hal’s throat. Yellowfang felt agony flash across her neck and through all her body, and for a heartbeat the snow-covered forest turned black in her eyes.

When she recovered, panting and blinking, she saw Hal’s body lying limp on the ground with a great gush of scarlet blood flowing from his throat, staining the snow. “You killed him!” she gasped, staring in horror.

“He should have left when he had the chance,” Raggedpelt snarled.

“But he was your father!” Yellowfang protested.

Raggedpelt turned to face her. Yellowfang could see her own horror reflected in his eyes, but his voice was cold. “He was nothing but a useless kittypet.”

Before Yellowfang could say more, new cat scent drifted over her. Russetpaw and Boulder emerged through the trees along with Frogtail and Deerleap.

“What’s going on?” Boulder demanded.

“Marmalade and the kittypets are attacking our camp,” Yellowfang explained. “They think we’re keeping you as prisoners.”

As she spoke, Russetpaw spotted Hal’s body and bounded forward to stand over him, looking down at him in dismay. “What happened?” she gasped, her voice shaking.

“He tried to attack Yellowfang,” Raggedpelt replied. “I had no choice.”

Russetpaw and Boulder exchanged a horrified glance. Yellowfang opened her jaws to contradict Raggedpelt’s lie, then picked up his amber glare and knew there was nothing she could say that wouldn’t make everything worse.

“But the warrior code says…” Boulder began.

“This cat wasn’t part of the warrior code,” Raggedpelt interrupted. “Now come back to camp and tell the rest of these wretched cats that you don’t need rescuing.”

He set off toward the camp at a run. Boulder hesitated for a moment, then followed. Frogtail and Deerleap bounded after them.

Russetpaw remained standing over Hal’s body, gazing down at him with grief in her eyes.

Yellowfang padded up to her and gave her a gentle nudge. “We have to go.”

“He was my father,” Russetpaw whispered.

Oh, StarClan. Yellowfang hoped that the young she-cat never learned that Hal was Raggedpelt’s father too. At least there are other broad-shouldered dark tabbies in the Clan who Russetpaw might assume to be Raggedpelt’s father.

Yellowfang gave Russetpaw another nudge and padded beside her until they reached the camp. Looking around, Yellowfang saw that although one or two skirmishes were still going on, most of the kittypets had surrendered. Clan cats stood over them, their flanks heaving and blood dripping from their scratches.

Cedarstar was standing in the center of the clearing. “Here are Russetpaw and Boulder.” His eyes gleamed as he beckoned the two young cats with his tail. “Let them step forward.”

Russetpaw and Boulder padded up to their Clan leader, a mixture of embarrassment and horror in their faces as they looked around at the battle-torn cats.

Cedarstar angled his ears toward Marmalade. “Tell this cat why you are here,” he commanded.

“We wanted to see what life was like in the forest,” Boulder began, raising his head confidently. “And we think it’s good.”

“We chose to stay,” Russetpaw added, ducking her head at Marmalade. “They’re not keeping us prisoners.”

Marmalade’s mouth fell open.

Pixie bounded up to his side, her eyes wide with astonishment. “How can you prefer to live with these wild, cruel creatures?” she demanded. “We came to rescue you!”

“Cruel?” There was an edge to Cedarstar’s voice. “We aren’t the cats who attacked. If you had come here peacefully and asked, there would have been no need for bloodshed.”

“It was Hal’s idea,” Marmalade admitted. “He refused to give up on you, Red. Where is he, by the way?” he added, glancing around.

“He’s dead,” Russetpaw choked out.

Marmalade and Pixie exchanged a horrified glance. Yellowfang heard a gasp from Featherstorm, too. Glancing at her, she saw nothing that suggested grief or shock in her expression, but Yellowfang guessed that the she-cat was not as indifferent as she liked to pretend.

“He had to die,” Raggedpelt growled. “He was attacking Yellowfang.”

“You may take his body away,” Cedarstar told Marmalade. “Leave our territory and stay out of it. We have treated you gently this time, believe me.”

Marmalade let out an angry hiss, but he turned to leave.

Pixie padded up to Russetpaw and Boulder. “If you ever change your mind, you’ll always be welcome to come back.”

“Thank you,” Boulder replied, dipping his head. “But we’re warriors now.”

Pixie shook her head sadly. “Hal paid for this with his life,” she mewed. “And it was all for nothing.”

“He was very brave,” Russetpaw murmured, her eyes still full of grief. “We won’t forget him, I promise.”

Yellowfang looked around for Raggedpelt, who had retreated to lurk at the edge of the clearing. I bet there’s one cat who’ll try his hardest to forget him, she thought.