Outcast

Down below, the skinny brown intruder, Flick, emerged from behind a spur of rock, following the course of the stream. Four more of the intruders followed him; one of them, the black tom they had encountered before, had the body of a mouse hanging from his jaws. They padded along confidently, as if they had every right to be there.

I knew it, Hollypaw thought. Everything we’ve done has been for nothing.

“They’re useless hunters,” she commented, trying to push down the cold sense of failure that sat in her belly like a stone.

“They can’t even scent us. They have no idea that we’re here.”

“Or they don’t care,” Lionpaw added.

Brambleclaw, Crag, and Stormfur exchanged a few quick words, speaking too low for Hollypaw to catch what they said. Then Brambleclaw leaped up onto the nearest boulder so that his figure was outlined against the sky. “Trespassers!” he yowled.

The invaders halted. In the same heartbeat, Brambleclaw let out a fearsome screech and launched himself down from the boulder. The rest of the patrol poured down the slope after him; Hollypaw felt as if a rushing torrent were sweeping her on.

After one terrified glance, Flick’s patrol spun around and fled downstream. Flick clawed his way up a steep rockslide until he reached a ledge. He glared down at the Clan and Tribe cats, his ears flattened and his lips drawn back in a snarl.

Brambleclaw bounded up to the foot of the rockslide.

“You have crossed the Tribe’s border,” he meowed. Hollypaw could tell that he was trying to remain calm, though his voice vibrated with fury. “You are trespassing and stealing prey.”

“Why shouldn’t we?” Flick spat. “There’s nothing to stop us.”

“We explained the scent marks,” Crag began, pacing forward to stand at Brambleclaw’s shoulder.

“Oh, the scent marks!” Flick sneered. “I’m frightened out of my fur. So what are you going to do now, set stronger marks?

We’ll hunt where we please, and you can’t stop us.” Before any cat could reply he leaped upward and vanished over the top of the rock.

“We should follow him,” Talon growled. “Maybe he’ll listen if we rip his fur off.”

“No point.” Brambleclaw sounded despondent. “It’s obvious that explaining the boundaries hasn’t worked. The intruders crossed the border as soon as our backs were turned. No, we have to teach them a lesson, once and for all.”

* * *

When Hollypaw entered the cave she was aware of a buzz of excitement. The Tribe cats who had stayed behind were clamoring to hear what had happened when the patrol met the intruders.

“So they know about the borders?” Bird asked, her eyes gleaming hopefully. “Does that mean they’ll leave us alone?”

“Maybe we can hunt in peace now,” Gray added.

Brambleclaw shouldered his way into the cluster of excited cats. “No,” he meowed. “The battle is not over. There are no borders.”

“But there are!” Screech slipped between two older cats to confront Brambleclaw, his neck fur bristling. “You helped set them yourself!”

“And the intruders have already crossed them,” Stormfur meowed.

Gasps of astonishment and snarls of fury rose from the cats gathered around as the gray warrior quickly described their encounter with Flick’s patrol. “They can’t do that!”

some cat exclaimed.

“They have,” Talon replied flatly.

“There are no borders if the other side won’t recognize them,” Squirrelflight pointed out.

“That is true.” Hollypaw whipped around to see that Stoneteller had taken his place on the boulder. The old cat’s fur was fluffed up with anger and he glared at Brambleclaw.

“So all our efforts have been wasted. What do you suggest that we do now?”

“There’s only one thing left to do,” Brambleclaw meowed, dipping his head respectfully to the old cat. “We must take the battle to the trespassers and defeat them once and for all.”

Stoneteller drew back his lips in the beginnings of a snarl.

Every cat in the cave fell silent as his amber eyes searched out Stormfur. “No,” he mewed. His voice was soft but charged with fury. “We tried that once, and too many lives were lost.

Too many cats will never walk these mountains again.”

“But this time will be different,” Brambleclaw promised.

“Your cats have been training to fight. And this time they will fight with a clear purpose—to defend their territory, instead of trying to drive out the intruders.” He hesitated, drawing a deep breath, then added, “It’s your choice. You can fight, or be driven from your home.”

A babble of conflicting voices rose from the Tribe cats.

Stoneteller silenced it with a single lash of his tail.

“Very well,” he hissed. “The Tribe shall choose—and prove once and for all that we are not a Clan.”

Hollypaw caught a startled glance from Lionpaw.

“What’s he meowing about?” her brother asked. “Of course they’re not a Clan.”

“He doesn’t want them to fight,” Hollypaw mewed. “But perhaps he thinks it’s fairer to let the Tribe decide. After all, they’ll have to live with the decision.”