Outcast

On the other side of the pool, Squirrelflight and Stormfur were training some of the older Tribe cats. Hollypaw heard one of them meow, “Why do we have to do this? We’ve stuck to our ways for season after season and we’ve been fine until now.”

Hollypaw felt a stab of sympathy. She could understand why the Tribe cats wanted to continue in the ways of their ancestors, and she hated forcing them to change. But they have to learn, she told herself. It’s the only way they’re going to survive. She comforted herself with the thought that once the borders were properly established, less blood would be spilled. The trespassers would think twice before attacking cats who knew how to defend themselves.

When the practice was over, she let Breezepaw take the prey-hunters to learn one or two more advanced moves, while she worked with the cave-guards, trying to adapt some of their own techniques.

Sunhigh came and went. Hollypaw’s belly was rumbling, but none of the to-bes suggested stopping to eat, and she guessed that they only had one meal a day. For a couple of heartbeats she longed to be back in ThunderClan, where she could take a piece of fresh-kill from the pile any time she liked, provided she had done all her apprentice duties.

Finally she signaled the to-bes to rest by the side of the pool. “That was great,” she mewed. “I’m surprised Stoneteller hasn’t been out to watch you. I think he’d be proud to see how much you’ve learned.”

“Stoneteller hardly ever leaves the cave,” Pebble told her.

Hollypaw’s eyes stretched wide in shock. “Really?”

“He only comes out for ceremonies at the top of the waterfall, like when a to-be becomes a full Tribe cat,” Splash meowed.

“And sometimes for emergencies,” Pebble added.

“I suppose that’s different in the Clans, too,” Screech sneered. Eventually he’d started to work at the training, but Hollypaw could tell he didn’t like it.

“Yes, a Clan leader hunts and patrols with his warriors,” Breezepaw explained. “And fights if he has to.”

“Doesn’t that mean there’s a danger he’ll be killed?” Pebble asked, just as shocked as Hollypaw had been a moment before.

“Sort of.” Hollypaw didn’t want to get started on how a Clan leader had nine lives. She wasn’t sure if the Tribe of Endless Hunting had given nine lives to Stoneteller, and the Tribe cats might feel resentful if not. Besides, the forest was a much safer place to live than the mountains; it was easier to shelter from hawks, and there weren’t many places where a cat might fall to its death. She looked around at the cold gray rocks that surrounded her, and homesickness stabbed her again, sharp as a claw.

“I think we should keep going,” she began, rising to her paws to begin another training session.

She broke off as something landed on her from behind, bowling her over until she finished up sprawling on the very edge of the pool, with her tail in the water. Breezepaw had pinned her down with both paws on her chest. His amber eyes shone gleefully.

“That’s the best way to tackle an enemy!” he boasted.

“When they’re not expecting you.”

He stepped back; Hollypaw heard mrrow s of laughter from the to-bes as she scrambled to her paws.

“Stupid furball!” she meowed, flicking water from her tail into his face. But she couldn’t really be angry. That was exactly the sort of thing she and Lionpaw might have done to each other, back in ThunderClan territory. “Breezepaw’s right,” she went on. “And hunting techniques are good for creeping up on an enemy who doesn’t know you’re there.

Let’s practice some.”

But when the practice session started, Hollypaw felt too hollow with hunger to do it well. Her paws were clumsy; she couldn’t set them down as lightly as she wanted. She was relieved when the scent of cats announced the return of Lionpaw with Brambleclaw and the rest of the border patrol.

Her brother was limping badly as he picked his way down the rocks toward the pool. Hollypaw quickly dismissed the to-bes; they were all getting too tired to go on much longer anyway. Breezepaw accompanied them back into the cave, telling them a story about battling a fox on WindClan territory.

Like there’ll ever be foxes up here, Hollypaw thought. She padded up to Lionpaw and gave him her shoulder to lean on over the sharp stones to the pool. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine.” Lionpaw sighed wearily and crouched by the water to drink. Then he looked up, flicking droplets from his whiskers. “Today was hopeless. We couldn’t get around the whole of the border. The route was just too difficult.”