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After they had finished up the previous night’s fresh-kill, the cats set out again. Passing the place where she had met Sol, Hollyleaf realized they were coming to the edge of the woods. Soon they stood beneath the forest’s outermost trees, gazing across fields dotted with gray-white puffs that Hollyleaf realized were sheep.

“I don’t like this,” Purdy grumbled as they crossed the fields, giving the sheep a suspicious glance. “What are them creatures, anyway?”

“Sheep, Purdy,” Hollyleaf replied, padding beside him. “Didn’t they have any on that farm where we met you last time?”

Purdy sniffed. “Never seen ’em before.” He jumped, fur fluffing up, as one of the sheep ambled away from the others and trotted closer to the cats. “Quick—run!”

“It’s okay,” Hollyleaf mewed; the sheep halted and began to crop a new patch of grass. “They’re not taking any notice of us.”

“There’s too much…space around here,” Purdy complained, flattening himself to the ground. “No trees. No Upwalkers—Twolegs, you call ’em.”

“You mean you want Twolegs?” Hollyleaf’s exasperation spilled over like rain from a leaf. “That won’t do if you’re going to live in ThunderClan.”

“Hey, take it easy.” Lionblaze veered over and rested his tail on Purdy’s shoulders for a heartbeat. “Purdy can’t help not being a Clan cat.”

Nor can we! Hollyleaf almost flashed the words back at her brother, but stopped herself in time. How long before one of us gives away the secret?

With a massive effort she made herself relax. “I know. Sorry, Purdy.”

By sunhigh, Hollyleaf could see that the old cat was tiring again, and soon Brambleclaw called a halt in the shelter of some trees surrounded by gorse bushes. Purdy collapsed on his side, breathing hard. Sol padded away a few paw steps and sat down, peering out over the field.

“Hey, look at this!” Hazeltail was sniffing at a clump of something that looked like thistledown stuck on one of the gorse bushes. “What is it?”

Hollyleaf padded up to look. Birchfall followed curiously. “It smells of sheep,” Hollyleaf meowed. Glancing around, she spotted more of the clumps on other bushes. “Their pelts must get snagged on the thorns when they brush past.”

“It’s very soft.” Hazeltail tugged at the clump with her teeth and came away with a mouthful of it. “I’m going to take some back for the nursery.”

Birchfall suppressed a mrrow of laughter. “You look as if you’ve swallowed a thistle!” He ducked as Hazeltail swatted at him with her tail. “It’s a good idea,” he added hastily. “I’ll collect some, too, for my kits.”

Hollyleaf left them pulling the sheep pelt off the bushes, and padded back to Purdy. The old cat was reviving, and looked calmer now that the sheep were a safe distance away.

“Do we have we time to hunt?” she asked Brambleclaw.

The Clan deputy’s ears twitched in surprise. “Are you hungry already?”

“No,” Hollyleaf replied, lowering her voice. “I just want one mouse, for the mouse bile. We’ll never hear the last of it if we let Purdy into the camp with all his fleas and ticks.” Raising a hind paw to scratch her side, she added, “I think I might have picked something up from him already.”

“Okay.” There was a glint of amusement in Brambleclaw’s eyes. “But don’t be long. I want to keep going. We’re not far from the lake now. I can feel it in my paws.”


Dusk was falling as the patrol left the fields behind and came to a small Thunderpath. Tasting the air, Hollyleaf breathed in the scent of horses. “The horseplace!” she exclaimed. “We’re nearly home!”

Brambleclaw led the way, slipping under the shining fence and across the expanse of whitish stone, past the Twoleg nest and the horse nests. As they emerged into the field, Hollyleaf looked around for the horses, but there was no sign of them. “They must be shut up in their wooden nests,” she murmured to Lionblaze.

She couldn’t see Smoky or Floss, either, though she picked up their scents. Her paws prickled with urgency; she wanted to be back in the warm familiarity of the stone hollow, and yet she knew that there was no real safety there.

Or anywhere else, she reflected sadly. Where will all the lies and betrayal end?










CHAPTER 15

“Thanks, Jayfeather,” Whitewing purred as Jayfeather dropped a leaf wrap of ragwort in front of her.

The nursery was warm and quiet. Daisy and Millie had taken their kits out for some exercise, leaving the white queen to get some rest.

“Make sure to eat it all,” Jayfeather instructed her. “Your kits will be born soon, and you need all the strength you can get.”

“I know.” Whitewing sighed. “I hope it’s not much longer. I feel huge!”

“You’re fine,” Jayfeather assured her. He said good-bye and pushed his way out of the nursery. The morning was crisp but he could feel the weak rays of leaf-bare sun, melting the night frost.

“Now,” he muttered to himself, “if only Leafpool’s still out looking for yarrow….”

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