Yellowfang’s Secret

Chapter 6

The early morning sunlight sparkled on the dewy grass and on the cobwebs draped across bushes and clumps of bracken. Yellowpaw paused to taste the air. The scent of damp earth flooded her jaws, with a trace of fresh green growth.

Newleaf will be here soon.

Yellowpaw and her littermates were following Deerleap, on their way out of camp for a training session. As she leaped over a broken branch, she spotted a hint of green. She turned back, pushing the branch aside, and discovered a few delicate shoots poking up through the covering of rotting leaves. Very gently Yellowpaw scraped away the debris, giving the shoots a chance to reach the sun. Bending down to give them a good sniff, she thought, I’m sure I’ve smelled this in Sagewhisker’s den before. It must be an herb.

As she straightened up, she heard yowls of excitement, and the two newest apprentices, Foxpaw and Wolfpaw, hurled themselves over the branch. Yellowpaw leaped backward to avoid being knocked over. Two sets of flying paws stomped down hard on the tiny shoots, crushing them into the earth.

“Mouse-brains!” Yellowpaw called after them, her fur bristling in fury. “Watch where you’re going!”

Brightflower, Foxpaw’s mentor, and Blizzardwing, who was mentoring Wolfpaw, followed their apprentices more slowly. Brightflower gave Yellowpaw an inquiring look as she passed, but Yellowpaw just shrugged and brought up the rear.

The rest of the apprentices and their mentors had gathered in a clearing not far from the marshes. Wolfpaw and Foxpaw were charging around the edge, shouldering aside Nutpaw and Rowanpaw if they happened to get in the way.

Rowanpaw padded over to Yellowpaw. “They’re even more annoying than Raggedpaw and Scorchpaw.”

Still angry over the damaged shoots, Yellowpaw nodded. “They’re acting like kits.”

Deerleap called the cats together. “Today we’re going to do a hunting exercise,” she announced.

“Aww, do we have to?” Wolfpaw interrupted. “That’s so boring! I want to fight!”

Deerleap gave him a freezing glare. “If you like, Wolfpaw, you can go back to camp and search the elders for ticks.”

“Uh… no.” Wolfpaw’s tail drooped. “I guess hunting is okay.”

“Thank you so much,” Deerleap went on, an edge of sarcasm in her tone. “This morning you’re going to work in pairs. Nutpaw and Rowanpaw, you can work together. Yellowpaw, you go with Foxpaw.” Her tail-tip twitched. “Wolfpaw, seeing as there isn’t another apprentice to partner with, you’ll have to work with me.”

Yellowpaw was torn between enjoying Wolfpaw’s appalled expression, and dismay that she had to work with Foxpaw. She glanced at the younger apprentice, and saw that Foxpaw was giving her a dubious glance in reply.

Okay, you don’t like this any more than I do, Yellowpaw thought. But we have to put up with it for the sake of the Clan.

Deerleap directed Yellowpaw and Foxpaw to head through the marshes and toward the Thunderpath. “Come back here when you’ve each caught one piece of prey,” she directed. “And remember, you’re working together.”

Yellowpaw padded carefully across the swampy ground, practicing her mentor’s instructions to look, listen, and scent. Meanwhile Foxpaw leaped from grassy clump to grassy clump, often landing instead in the shallow pools and splashing muddy water over her bright ginger pelt.

Yellowpaw rolled her eyes. I suppose it’s one way of disguising your scent from the prey. She could hear the distant roar of the Thunderpath when Foxpaw gave an excited little bounce. “I can smell a pigeon! This way!” She dashed off.

“She won’t catch a pigeon or anything else racing about like that,” Yellowpaw muttered. She had picked up the pigeon scent at the same moment, but she had also scented something else.

“Cats—and not ShadowClan cats,” she mewed softly as she followed Foxpaw. “This could mean trouble.”

She caught up to Foxpaw within sight of the Thunderpath. The young ginger she-cat was standing in the middle of a puddle of feathers, gazing down at them with a look of dismay.

“Some other cat got here before us,” she told Yellowpaw.

“I can see that.” The scent of strange cats was stronger than ever. “And not a ShadowClan patrol.”

“How do you know?” Foxpaw asked.

Yellowpaw ignored the question. If she can’t smell that… She cast around the pool of feathers, her nose to the ground, until she spotted cat paw prints leading away in the direction of the Thunderpath.

“Look at this,” she meowed, beckoning Foxpaw with her tail. “See how small and light those paw prints are?” she pointed out when Foxpaw reached her side. “I’ll bet a moon of dawn patrols that they were made by WindClan cats.”

“WindClan!” Foxpaw exclaimed. “Stealing our prey! They can’t do that. Let’s get them!”

She was ready to charge off, but Yellowpaw stood in front of her. “Wait!” she snapped. “Are you mouse-brained?”

“Are you scared?” Foxpaw retorted.

“Never!” Yellowpaw’s voice was low and furious. “I just have some sense, that’s all. What do you suppose two apprentices are going to do, alone on WindClan territory? What we have to do is go and find our mentors.”

She raced back across the marsh. Foxpaw pelted alongside her, looking mutinous. When they reached the training area, only Brightflower and Blizzardwing were there.

“WindClan!” Yellowpaw gasped.

“Stealing our prey!” Foxpaw added, bouncing on her paws. “Are we going to attack?”

“Hold on!” Brightflower raised her tail. “Settle down and tell us what happened.”

Yellowpaw began to explain what they had seen, trying to ignore Foxpaw’s attempts to interrupt. While she was speaking, Deerleap and Wolfpaw returned, closely followed by Nutpaw and Rowanpaw.

“We can’t let this pass,” Brightflower meowed when Yellowpaw had finished. “We need to take a look. Yellowpaw, lead the way.”

Yellowpaw was proud to pad at the head of the patrol as she took them through the marshes to where the pigeon feathers lay. Brightflower dipped her head to sniff at the cat paw prints.

“Fresh,” she murmured. “And definitely WindClan. Two of them, I’d guess. Well scented, Yellowpaw.”

“You have the best sense of smell,” Deerleap meowed to Brightflower. “Why don’t you follow these tracks and see where they lead? Take Blizzardwing with you in case the WindClan cats are still lurking around. We’ll wait for you here.”

Brightflower nodded and headed toward the Thunderpath, with Blizzardwing hard on her paws. Yellowpaw waited impatiently until she saw both warriors racing back.

“The paw prints lead to that new tunnel the Twolegs made under the Thunderpath,” Blizzardwing reported. “And we know where that leads: WindClan territory!”

“What are we going to do?” Rowanpaw demanded.

Brightflower and Blizzardwing both looked at Deerleap, as senior warrior. She thought for a moment. “Blizzardwing, you should go back to camp and fetch reinforcements,” she replied at last. “Foxpaw and Wolfpaw, go with him, and stay in the camp.”

“What?” Wolfpaw exclaimed, dismayed. “We want to fight!”

“Yeah, we know some awesome moves,” Foxpaw added.

“Certainly not,” Deerleap meowed. “You’re both too young for battle.” Turning to Yellowpaw and her littermates, she added, “Do you feel ready for your first attack on an enemy?”

Yellowpaw’s belly flipped over. “Yes!” she choked out.

Her littermates’ eyes were wide with shock; they glanced at each other, then nodded.

“Not fair,” Wolfpaw muttered. “We can fight as well as them.”

Deerleap ignored his comment. “We’ll wait for you near the tunnel entrance,” she told Blizzardwing.

The white tom rounded up the younger apprentices and set off back to camp. When they had gone, Deerleap led the way along the line of the tracks until they came in sight of the narrow tunnel that led to WindClan. Yellowpaw could smell the WindClan scent even more strongly here.

“We’ll stop here,” Deerleap announced, halting beside a clump of long, marshy grass. “Settle down so you can’t be seen. And if any WindClan cats come out of the tunnel, don’t even twitch a whisker until I give the word.”

Yellowpaw obeyed, crouching down in the grass between Rowanpaw and Nutpaw. Her claws were extended and her muscles tensed to leap on any trespassers, but no cats had appeared by the time that Yellowpaw picked up a stronger ShadowClan scent and heard an approaching patrol brushing through the grass.

Deerleap rose to meet them, signaling to the apprentices to do the same. Stonetooth, the Clan deputy, was in the lead, with Brackenfoot and Crowtail close behind. Yellowpaw was surprised and a bit disappointed to see that Raggedpaw and Scorchpaw were with their mentors. She’d wanted herself and her littermates to be the only apprentices to face down WindClan this time.

“Where’s Blizzardwing?” Deerleap asked.

“He stayed to help guard the camp,” Stonetooth meowed. “Just in case WindClan thinks it can bring the battle to us.”

Deerleap sniffed. “I’d like to see them try.”

Excitement bubbled up inside Yellowpaw as the patrol prepared to leave. “We’ll make WindClan sorry they ever touched our prey.”

“Calm down,” Raggedpaw mewed. “This is what warriors do.”

“Yeah,” Scorchpaw added. “It’s just part of living in a Clan.”

“It’s your first time in battle too,” Nutpaw snorted, “so don’t pretend you’re not excited.”

Yellowpaw could see that her littermate was right. Scorchpaw was working his claws in the grass, and Raggedpaw’s amber eyes gleamed.

Stonetooth gathered the patrol with a wave of his tail. “I’ll lead,” he announced. “Brackenfoot, you bring up the rear, and keep an eye out for trouble behind.” The pale ginger tom nodded. Turning to the apprentices, Stonetooth went on. “Listen to everything I say. We won’t attack right away. We’ll give WindClan a chance to explain themselves first.”

“Like they’ll be able to explain WindClan scent and pigeon feathers inside our borders,” Deerleap snarled.

The patrol set off in single file. Yellowpaw was close to the rear, just ahead of Raggedpaw and her father. The tunnel under the Thunderpath was narrower than she had realized—much smaller than the one Deerleap had shown her on their first tour of the territory—and dark. Yellowpaw jumped, her heart beginning to pound, at a roaring noise that seemed to fill the whole of it.

“It’s okay,” Brackenfoot meowed from behind her. “It’s only monsters going past on the Thunderpath.”

Forcing herself to relax, Yellowpaw followed the scent of Crowtail, who was walking in front of her. I wonder what would happen if we met WindClan cats coming the other way. She tried to work out how she could use her battle moves in such a tight space. Soon she could scent fresh air coming from somewhere ahead. A few heartbeats later Crowtail scrambled upward, showering scraps of earth and debris down on Yellowpaw. Blinking, Yellowpaw followed, and broke out into the open. As Raggedpaw and Brackenfoot emerged after her, she took a huge breath and looked around.

I’m on WindClan territory now!

Yellowpaw felt as if every hair on her pelt was standing on end with the thrill of being across enemy borders. Behind her, monsters roared up and down the Thunderpath. In front, a wide stretch of grass swelled to the horizon in an unbroken sweep. Wind blew from the hilltop toward the ShadowClan cats, ruffling their fur and bringing with it the scents of cats and rabbits.

Stonetooth waved his tail. “This way. Stay together.”

“I’m surprised the WindClan cats can catch anything in these open spaces,” Yellowpaw mewed to Nutpaw as they followed the Clan deputy toward the top of the moor.

“I know,” Nutpaw agreed. “I can hardly hear myself speak, with the wind in my ear fur.”

“Look!” Rowanpaw flicked her tail over Yellowpaw’s shoulder.

Gazing upward, Yellowpaw spotted a scrawny WindClan warrior outlined against the sky. The cat stood motionless for a heartbeat, then turned tail and vanished down the other side of the hill.

“Gone to warn his Clanmates,” Nutpaw muttered.

“I still can’t believe how skinny they are!” Yellowpaw mewed. “And their smell is weird, like rabbits and windblown grass.”

She remembered the first time she had seen WindClan cats, at her first Gathering almost a moon ago, but the memory was blurred. There were so many cats… so much noise… She had looked forward to her first Gathering for as long as she could remember, but it had been overwhelming, busy and full of chatter and conflicting scents. Yellowpaw had felt too timid to go and talk to any cats from the rival Clans, instead staying among the ShadowClan apprentices. Afterward she had felt stupid and embarrassed for being so shy, but Deerleap told her lots of apprentices felt that way, and sometimes even senior warriors. The next Gathering would be easier, she promised.

Now Yellowpaw felt strong and confident as she strode out across the moor. I’m part of a ShadowClan patrol. I’m going to fight for my Clan!

When the ShadowClan cats reached the brow of the hill, they spotted a patrol of WindClan cats heading across the moor toward them. Stonetooth halted, signaling with his tail for the rest to do the same. “We’ll let them come to us,” he meowed.

Leading the WindClan patrol was a light brown tabby tom. Yellowpaw remembered Deerleap pointing him out to her at the Gathering; he was Reedfeather, the WindClan deputy. Stonetooth stepped forward to face Reedfeather as the WindClan cats approached.

“What are you doing on our territory?” Reedfeather demanded.

“Don’t you know?” Stonetooth challenged. “We found pigeon feathers on our side of the Thunderpath, with WindClan scent and paw marks. You’ve been stealing our prey!”

“We’ve done nothing of the sort,” Reedfeather retorted. “We chased that pigeon from our own territory, and that makes it WindClan prey.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Stonetooth growled, sliding out his claws.

Reedfeather tensed his muscles, his neck fur bristling. Yellowpaw could smell his fear. The WindClan patrol was smaller, and the cats looked too weak and skinny to fight well. For a moment Yellowpaw felt a pang of sympathy. These cats look as if they haven’t had a good meal in moons. Maybe they deserved that pigeon. Then she gave herself a shake. That’s mouse-brained! I’m a ShadowClan warrior—or I will be soon—and these are my enemies!

“You need to leave,” Reedfeather hissed. “You’re not welcome on our territory.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you’ve been taught a lesson,” Stonetooth responded.

Yellowpaw saw Reedfeather’s gaze flicker. “All right,” he mewed wearily. “You’ve made your point. We’ll stay on our own side of the border from now on.”

Stonetooth didn’t reply with words. Instead, he leaped onto the WindClan deputy, bearing him to the ground. A heartbeat later, fighting exploded all around Yellowpaw. For a moment she stood frozen; the whole world seemed to be filled with screeching, clawing cats, and she didn’t know which paw to use first.

Then she pulled herself together and lunged at a WindClan cat who was on top of Nutpaw, pummeling him with strong paws. The WindClan cat lashed out at her with a wild blow that only riffled her whiskers, then scrambled away.

“Thanks!” Nutpaw gasped.

Yellowpaw whirled around as she felt a burning scratch all down one side, but she couldn’t spot the cat who had dealt the blow. Instead, a huge dark tabby tom bore down on her, his amber eyes blazing. Yellowpaw gulped. She had thought of these cats as small and skinny, but they were full-grown, and this one was much bigger than she was. Frantically she tried to remember her battle moves. She darted at the WindClan tom, intending to strike a blow and spring back out of range, but the tom was ready for her. He ducked away from her claws and swiped her so hard over the ear with one forepaw that she staggered and for a heartbeat the sky went dark. She lashed out again, remembering the move that Raggedpaw had helped her practice, but as she tried to twist in the air the tom batted her down so that she landed all wrong.

He’s too strong, Yellowpaw thought despairingly as she struggled to her paws again.

“Out of the way!” A voice sounded in Yellowpaw’s ear and a paw scooped her to one side. With a gasp of shock she saw Raggedpaw flash past her and hurl himself onto the big tom. Raggedpaw’s claws dug into the WindClan warrior’s shoulders and blood started to well up. With a yowl of pain the tom flung Raggedpaw off and fled. Raggedpaw sprang to his paws, ignoring Yellowpaw, then dashed into a fight between Scorchpaw and Reedfeather.

Yellowpaw stayed where she was, panting. Raggedpaw thought he had to rescue me! she thought indignantly, but she couldn’t help admiring his courage and his fighting skill. As she rose to her paws again she winced with pain; it felt as if every scrap of her pelt had been ripped off. But when she checked her fur and flexed each paw in turn, she couldn’t find any wounds except for the scratch along her side.

Glancing around to find another opponent, Yellowpaw realized that the fight was all but over. Most of the WindClan cats were pelting across the moor. Reedfeather was the last to break away and race after his Clanmates, with Rowanpaw hard on his paws.

“No!” Stonetooth commanded. “Rowanpaw, come back!” As Yellowpaw’s sister returned, growling angrily, the Clan deputy continued, “There is no need to pursue a defeated enemy.”

Yellowpaw thought she could discern sympathy in the deputy’s voice and his eyes as he gazed after the vanishing WindClan patrol. But he did not admit as much out loud. Instead he raised his tail. “Back to our territory,” he ordered. “There’s nothing more to do here.”

As they headed back down the hill toward the tunnel, the apprentices bunched together.

“Did you see me scratch that black she-cat’s nose?” Nutpaw puffed. “She ran like a rabbit!”

“I did the latest move Finchflight taught me,” Rowanpaw put in. “The WindClan cat looked so surprised!”

Yellowpaw couldn’t join in their chattering. With every heartbeat, she was growing more annoyed that Raggedpaw had flung her aside in the battle. None of the other apprentices had to be rescued. Does he think I can’t fight?

The rest of ShadowClan greeted the returning patrol with yowls of welcome.

“Thank you all,” Cedarstar meowed, meeting them in the center of the camp. “You have shown our enemies that we in ShadowClan have teeth and claws to defend what is ours. Tonight we will hold a feast in your honor.”

Extra hunting patrols went out, and as the sun set the whole Clan gathered in the clearing to eat. Yellowpaw felt proud and a bit embarrassed when she and the rest of the patrol were allowed to choose the best pieces of fresh-kill before any of the other warriors.

“I can’t believe we got to go on a real mission!” she whispered to Nutpaw as she settled down with a plump starling.

“I wish I’d been there,” Toadskip meowed, digging his claws into the floor of the camp. “But I was out on a hunting patrol. I have the worst luck.”

“There’ll be other chances,” Hollyflower told him with a twitch of her whiskers. “WindClan isn’t going to go away.”

“And ShadowClan will be ready for them,” Archeye added.

A shiver of delight went through Yellowpaw as she listened to the senior warriors. I’m glad I belong to such a strong Clan!

When the Clan was full-fed and lay drowsily sharing tongues, Stonetooth rose to his paws and told the story of the battle against WindClan so that every cat could hear.

“WindClan won’t bother us again for a very long time,” he finished, “and part of that is thanks to the five apprentices who were with us. Our Clan should be proud of them.”

“Those are wise words,” Cedarstar responded, rising to stand beside his deputy. “And from what you tell me, there is already a new warrior among us. Raggedpaw, come here.”

The dark tabby tom sprang up from his place beside Scorchpaw. For a moment he hesitated, glancing around wildly; then he padded forward to stand in front of his leader. Murmurs of surprise rose from the rest of the Clan.

The Clan was silent again as Cedarstar raised his tail and began to address them. “I, Cedarstar, leader of ShadowClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice,” he meowed. “He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and he has proven in battle that he is worthy to become a warrior. Raggedpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

Raggedpaw’s voice rang out clear and confident. “I do.”

“Then by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior name,” Cedarstar went on. “Raggedpaw, from this time on, you shall be known as Raggedpelt. StarClan honors your courage and your skill in battle.” He bent his head to rest his muzzle on Raggedpelt’s head, and Raggedpelt licked his shoulder in response.

“Raggedpelt! Raggedpelt! Raggedpelt!” the Clan yowled, their eyes gleaming in the gathering darkness.

Yellowpaw joined in somewhat reluctantly. I still feel bruised all over from being thrown out of the way as if I was a troublesome kit. She noticed Scorchpaw looking furious that he hadn’t been made a warrior along with his brother, and felt a stab of sympathy. It must be tough, falling behind your littermate.

As the yowls died away, Yellowpaw was surprised to see Raggedpelt padding across the clearing toward her. He halted in front of her and dipped his head. “Yellowpaw, I’m sorry I pushed you aside in the battle,” he mewed. “It’s not that I think you can’t fight, but that WindClan cat was too strong for you.”

Yellowpaw opened her jaws for a stinging retort, then stopped herself. Remembering the huge WindClan tom, she had to admit he was right. I’d be licking my wounds in Sagewhisker’s den right now, if it wasn’t for Raggedpelt. “It’s okay,” she muttered.

Raggedpelt let out a brief purr. “I’m looking forward to joining you on patrols when you’re a warrior,” he told her, then dipped his head again and padded off to join the other warriors.

Rowanpaw leaned closer to Yellowpaw, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Raggedpelt likes you,” she teased.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Yellowpaw retorted. “He’s just a Clanmate, that’s all.”

But as she watched Raggedpelt join Brackenfoot and Featherstorm outside the warriors’ den, Yellowpaw felt a warm glow spreading through her from ears to tail-tip.

Raggedpelt came looking for me. Maybe he doesn’t think I’m a troublesome kit anymore!