Outcast

Wind whipped through Lionpaw’s pelt as he raced toward the ShadowClan border. He couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be than running beside his father, with an important mission ahead and the chance to prove himself. He was proud of how he kept up with Brambleclaw; he wasn’t as big, but his legs were nearly as long.

“Watch out,” Brambleclaw warned. “Fallen tree ahead.”

Lionpaw had already spotted it, a beech with smooth gray bark, brought down in the storms of the previous leaf-bare. A few dead leaves still clung to its branches, rustling in the breeze. Brambleclaw skirted the roots, but Lionpaw sprang upward, scrabbling with his hind paws to drag himself on top of the trunk, and pushed his way through the branches until he could leap down on the other side.

He wanted to show Brambleclaw just how fast and powerful he could be, so when a small stream crossed their path he gathered his muscles for an enormous leap and launched himself across the water. His paws stretched for a smooth flat stone on the opposite side, but just before he landed a blackbird erupted from a hazel bush just ahead, giving a raucous alarm call.

Startled, Lionpaw landed awkwardly; his hind paws slipped and cold water surged over his haunches and his tail.

“Mouse dung!” he spat, his claws scoring the stone as he dragged himself out.

Brambleclaw was waiting for him on the bank, amusement glimmering in his amber eyes. “Steady on,” he purred. “You’re not a RiverClan cat, and we haven’t time for fishing.”

“Sorry,” Lionpaw muttered. Glittering drops of water spun away from his pelt as he tried to shake himself dry.

As they drew closer to ShadowClan territory, Brambleclaw’s pace slowed, until he came to a halt on the border not far from the dead tree.

“What are we waiting for?” Lionpaw mewed.

“A ShadowClan patrol,” his father replied. “They’ll escort us to their camp.”

“But you know where the camp is,” Lionpaw protested, flexing his claws in frustration. “It’s not as if we’re attacking them! Why can’t we just go?”

“Because Blackstar won’t see it like that.” Brambleclaw looked down at him, serious now. “We’re coming to take one of his warriors away on a long, dangerous journey, to help a completely different group of cats. He won’t like it, and I can’t say I blame him. Besides, the warrior code forbids us to trespass on another Clan’s territory, whether we’re friendly or not. We’ll wait.” He sat down just on the ThunderClan side of the border and wrapped his tail over his paws. “If you want something to do, you can groom that wet fur. I don’t want ShadowClan thinking that ThunderClan apprentices can’t look after themselves.”

Lionpaw’s pelt had begun to dry, the hairs clumping together in untidy tufts. He sat down and gave himself a thorough washing, stretching his neck over his back to reach every last scrap of fur. When he had finished there were still no ShadowClan warriors in sight.

“Don’t they ever patrol their borders?” he grumbled, batting at a beetle that was climbing a grass stem near his nose.

Brambleclaw had settled into a crouch, his paws tucked comfortably under him and his eyes slitted, enjoying the sun.

“They’ll be along soon. You can hunt if you want, but make sure you stay on this side of the border.”

Lionpaw sprang up, but before he could pinpoint any prey he heard the sound of pelts swishing through the bracken a few fox-lengths away. A ShadowClan patrol appeared from the arching fronds and stalked toward the border. Lionpaw recognized Russetfur, the ShadowClan deputy, but the other two—a young dark brown tom and a tortoiseshell she-cat—were strangers to him.

As soon as he spotted Brambleclaw and Lionpaw waiting by the border, the young tom exclaimed, “Intruders! I knew I’d scented them.” He bounded forward, his fur bristling.

“Toadfoot, wait!” Russetfur overtook her Clanmate and padded up to Brambleclaw. “What do you want?”

“Greetings.” Brambleclaw dipped his head, ignoring the deputy’s hostile tone. “We’re not intruding, Russetfur, just waiting for an escort to your camp. We need to speak to Blackstar.”

Russetfur’s whiskers twitched suspiciously. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until the Gathering?”

“A decision that Blackstar must make now.”

The ShadowClan deputy lashed her tail; Lionpaw guessed she was furious that Brambleclaw wouldn’t tell her what his business was. Reluctantly she stepped back, jerking her head to invite Brambleclaw and Lionpaw across the border.

“Ivytail, run back to the camp and warn Blackstar,” she ordered. “Toadfoot, keep an eye out behind. We need to be sure that there aren’t any more ThunderClan warriors lurking about.”

She turned and stalked off, with Brambleclaw padding quietly at her shoulder, while Toadfoot drew close to Lionpaw, fixing him with a fierce glare. “Don’t even think about unsheathing your claws,” he hissed.