“Firestar, come and look at this.” Brackenfur pointed with his tail to a thin piece of wood, too smooth and regular to be the branch of a tree, standing upright in the ground about the height of a cat. Firestar padded over to and sniffed at it suspiciously. “It reeks of Twolegs,” he reported.
“There’s another over there,” Leafpaw called, spotting a matching stick a few fox-lengths further away. “And another—all in a line! What are they—”
Her voice died away. As she bounded towards the next piece of wood, the bushes in front of her rustled and three cats stepped out into the open. She quickly recognised Russetfur, the dark ginger she-cat who was ShadowClan’s deputy; the other warriors, a dark grey tom and a lean tabby with a torn ear, were strangers to her.
Leafpaw swallowed nervously.
Firestar was already bounding up to her. “Greetings, Russetfur,” he meowed.
“You’re trespassing on our territory,” snarled the Shadow -Clan deputy.
With a flick of her tail she summoned her warriors forwards. Leafpaw barely had time to dodge, as the dark grey tom sprang at her; she felt claws rake down her side as she rolled away and scrambled to her paws, trying to remember her fighting moves. She caught a glimpse of Cinderpelt and Russetfur stalking around each other; a tail-length away, Greystripe had the tabby pinned down, while Brackenfur and the other tom writhed together in a screeching bundle of grey and ginger fur.
For a moment she could not see Firestar. Glancing around wildly, she saw that he had leaped on to one of the fallen tree trunks. His voice rose in a yowl above the hissing and spitting.
“Stop!”
CHAPTER 3 (#ulink_a3957eaa-ceb4-5de6-b5a4-132010805ed0)
“You lot stay here,” Purdy ordered in an undertone. “Let me deal with this.”
Stormfur stared in dismay as the old tom shuffled forwards towards the foxes, his rumpled fur on end, his tail lashing back and forth. Frozen by shock, the others might have let Purdy attack and be torn to pieces if Stormfur had not stepped forwards at the last moment and pushed him aside.
“Wha’?” Purdy protested. “Let me get at ’em. I’ve chased off more foxes than you’ve had mice, young fellow.”
“Then give the rest of us a chance,” Stormfur retorted grimly.
The two foxes were creeping slowly up the bank, their eyes flicking from one cat to the next. Too late Stormfur realised that he and his friends had been wrong to assume the woods held no danger for them.
He saw that Crowpaw had stepped forwards to shield Feathertail, while Brambleclaw tried to do the same for Squirrelpaw. But the ThunderClan apprentice slipped out from the shelter of his flank and stood beside him with her ears flattened and one paw extended threateningly.
“What are you doing, treading on my tail?” she growled. “I can take care of myself!”
“You did say you could eat a fox,” Tawnypelt pointed out wryly. “Now’s your chance.”
The foxes crept nearer. Stormfur braced himself, his gaze fixed on their narrow snouts and coldly glittering eyes, trying to guess where they would attack first. Back home, foxes weren’t much of a threat to cats who kept alert. They could be avoided, but these were obviously young and spoiling for a fight, eager to defend their territory. Stormfur was sure that the six of them could drive the creatures off eventually, but not without serious injuries. And what would that mean for their journey? StarClan help us! he prayed desperately.
Crowpaw, who was nearest to the foxes, crouched to spring. There was barely a tail-length between him and the first of them when Stormfur heard a strange sound behind him, half growling and half barking. The leading fox abruptly lifted its head and stood very still.
Stormfur flicked a glance over his shoulder. Midnight had lumbered forwards, thrusting her way between Purdy and Feathertail until she stood in front of the foxes. She said something else in the same mixture of barks and growls. Although Stormfur could not understand what she was saying, there was no mistaking the threat in the way her shoulders hunched, or the hostility in her black eyes.
Then his ears pricked in shock as the first fox barked what was obviously a reply. “I’d forgotten Midnight told us she could speak fox,” he muttered, glancing at Brambleclaw. The ThunderClan warrior nodded without taking his eyes off the foxes.
“They say this is their place,” Midnight reported. “To come here is to be their prey.”
“Fox dung to that!” Crowpaw burst out. “Tell them if they try anything, we’ll rip their fur off.”
Midnight shook her head. “No, small warrior. Cat fur be ripped also. Wait.”
Crowpaw backed off a pace or two, still looking furious, and Feathertail pressed her nose against his flank.
Midnight said something else to the foxes. “I tell them you only pass through,” she explained to the cats when she had finished. “I tell them much prey is here in woods, easier prey that does not rip fur.”
The leading fox was looking confused now, perhaps out of surprise at hearing a badger speak fox, perhaps because it was taking her arguments seriously. But the second—a lean dog fox with a scarred muzzle—was still glaring past Midnight at the group of cats, his teeth bared. He snarled out something that was a threat in any language.
Midnight barked a single word. Taking a step forwards, she raised a paw, her massive body poised to strike. Every hair on Stormfur’s pelt prickled as he braced himself for a fight. Then the dog fox started to back away, growling a last curse at Midnight before turning and vanishing into the bracken. Midnight’s gaze swivelled to his companion, but the other fox paused only to bark out something rapidly before following.
“And don’t come back, if you know what’s good for you!” Crowpaw yowled after them.
Stormfur relaxed, feeling his fur lie flat again. Squirrelpaw flopped down on the ground with a noisy sigh. All the cats, even Purdy, were looking at the badger with new respect.
Brambleclaw padded over to her and dipped his head. “Thanks, Midnight,” he meowed. “That could have been nasty.”
“They might have killed us,” Feathertail added.
“I suppose it’s a bad time for a fight,” Crowpaw admitted. Stormfur sighed at the aggressive note in the apprentice’s voice as he went on, “All the same, I’d like to know why you didn’t warn us about the foxes. You said you can read everything in the stars, so why didn’t you tell us they’d be here?”
Even though he would never have asked the question, Stormfur waited tensely for Midnight’s reply. She had told them so much already about the threat to the forest and how they must go home and lead the Clans to safety. If they did not trust her, they and all their Clanmates would be helpless in the face of destruction. Could she have warned them about the foxes?
For a moment the badger loomed over the WindClan apprentice, her black eyes furious. Crowpaw could not hide a flash of alarm in his eyes, though to his credit he did not back down. Then Midnight relaxed. “I not say everything. Everything indeed StarClan not want me to say. Much, yes, how Twolegs tear up forest, leave no place for cats to stay. But many answers lie within ourselves. This you have already learned, no?”
“I suppose,” Crowpaw muttered.
Midnight turned away from him. “Foxes say you must go now,” she told the cats. “If you still here at sunset, they attack. That dog fox, he says he tasted cat once, liked it fine.”
“Well, he’s not going to taste it again!” snapped Tawnypelt.
“We have to leave anyway,” Brambleclaw pointed out. “And we’re not looking for trouble from foxes. Let’s go.”
They paused for a few moments to gulp down the rest of the prey. Then Midnight took the lead, and brought them after a short time to the edge of the forest. The sun was dipping below the trees, and where they stood was already in shadow. In front of them, Stormfur saw yet more open moorland, with a range of mountains in the distance; over to one side were the hard reddish shapes of the Twolegplace they had travelled through on the outward journey.
“Which way now?” he asked.
Midnight raised one paw to point straight ahead. “That quickest way, path where sun rises.”
“It’s not the way we came,” Brambleclaw mewed uneasily. “We came through Twolegplace.”
“And I’m not going back there!” Crowpaw put in. “I’ll climb as many mountains as you like before I face all those Twolegs again.”
“I’m not sure,” Feathertail meowed. “At least we know the way through Twolegplace, and we’ve got Purdy to help us.”
Crowpaw replied only with a contemptuous snort. Stormfur half agreed with him; they had spent many frightening, hungry days wandering in Twolegplace, and Purdy had seemed as lost as any of them. But the mountains were unfamiliar too; even from here, Stormfur could see that their upper slopes were bare grey rock, with a streak of white here and there that must be the first snow of the approaching leaf-bare. They were far higher than Highstones, and he wondered how much shelter or prey they would find there.
“I agree with Feathertail,” he meowed at last. “We made it through Twolegplace once, so we can do it again.”
Brambleclaw glanced from one to another, undecided. “What do you think, Tawnypelt?”
His sister shrugged. “Whatever you like. There’ll be problems whichever way we go; we all know that.”
