Tallstar’s Revenge

Cloudrunner brushed past him. “The tunnels give us tactical advantage,” he murmured. “It’s best we don’t share news about them with the other Clans.”

Tallpaw turned and dipped his head to Hickorynose, hoping the old tunneler understood that he appreciated the tunnel. But Hickorynose was shouldering his way through the crowd, gaze low, heading for an empty slope where he stopped and sat apart from all the other cats.

“Come on.” Stagleap nudged Tallpaw with his muzzle. “Meet Shimmerpelt.”

“Shimmerpelt?”

Doespring rolled her eyes. “She’s in RiverClan. Stagleap’s got a massive crush on her.”

“But I thought that was forbidden.” Tallpaw was confused.

“It’s forbidden to take a mate from a different Clan,” Stagleap meowed breezily. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to them.” He padded away, Doespring at his heels.

“I’ll stay here,” Tallpaw called after them. He just wanted to watch for now. He gazed around the clearing, surprised to see the Clans at ease, sharing tongues as though there were no borders anywhere in the forest. Heatherstar and Pinestar talked in low murmurs, their heads close. Dawnstripe and Appledawn purred loudly as two ThunderClan toms demonstrated comical battle moves, fighting more like hares than warriors. At the edge of the clearing, Reedfeather sat close to a RiverClan she-cat. His tail whisked against her soft, pale brown flank as he talked, and Tallpaw was surprised by the warmth in Reedfeather’s gaze. When the RiverClan she-cat got to her paws and padded toward the edge of the clearing, Reedfeather followed.

“Tallpaw!” Dawnstripe’s call caught his attention.

He turned. His mentor was at the far side of the clearing, beckoning him with her tail. He hurried toward her and she nodded to a dark gray tom, who smelled of sap. “This is Frogpaw of ShadowClan.” She glanced past him. “And his sisters are over there.” Tallpaw followed her gaze toward a mottled she-cat and her pale gray littermate.

Frogpaw sniffed. “They’re called Newtpaw and Ashpaw.”

“I thought you might like to meet some apprentices from another Clan,” Dawnstripe told him. “They are our neighbors, after all.”

Tallpaw twitched an ear. “I guess.”

“How long have you been training?” Frogpaw asked.

“Just a moon.” Tallpaw didn’t like the way the young tom was eyeing him—like a hunter assessing prey.

“Who’s this?” Newtpaw nosed past her brother.

“He’s the new WindClan apprentice.” Ashpaw poked her muzzle close and sniffed. “He smells like heather.”

Tallpaw glared at her. And you smell like nettles.

“WindClan!” Heatherstar called from the slope. “The rabbits will start running early. We should return to camp and sleep while we can.”

Tallpaw felt a ripple of relief. He wasn’t going to have to share tongues with these stinky cats.

“Why did you introduce me to them?” he hissed to Dawnstripe as he ran after her. Around him, his Clanmates streamed up the slope toward the moor.

“Know your enemy,” Dawnstripe told him. “If you meet them in battle, you’ll recognize their scent and their strength.”

“Will I?” Tallpaw wasn’t convinced he’d be able to tell the three apprentices apart from their smelly Clanmates.

“What did you think of Frogpaw?” Dawnstripe pressed.

“He looked at me as if he was trying to work out how strong I was.”

“And Ashpaw?”

“She’s not shy.” Tallpaw felt a prickle of irritation. She’d sniffed him like she was checking stale scent. “Nor is her sister.”

“You have a sense of them, then.” Dawnstripe pushed through a patch of ferns.

Tallpaw followed in her paw steps, the fronds whisking his flanks. “I guess.”

“When battle comes, it will help, I promise.”

Tallpaw didn’t answer. How could knowing that the three young ShadowClan cats were bad-mannered and pushy help him in fight? Suddenly he felt bone-weary. By the time he reached the top of the slope, his paws ached. He was usually fast asleep in his nest by now. He followed Dawnstripe across the grass, comforted as the scent of peat and heather flooded his nose. He glanced up at the sky, relieved to be in the open. Moonlight shone on the pelts of his Clanmates as they crossed the moor ahead of him.

By the time they reached camp, he was yawning. “I’m so tired.”

“Hush,” Dawnstripe cautioned him. “The Clan will be sleeping.”

“Lucky Clan,” he muttered.

Dawnstripe stopped suddenly, her pelt bushing.

“What is it?” Tallpaw hissed.

Dawnstripe was staring at the walls of the camp. Heatherstar stood frozen outside the entrance while her Clanmates paused around her, their ears pricking.

Voices sounded from inside.

“They’re here!” Larksplash was the first to move. She raced toward the entrance, ducking past her leader and plunging into the heather. “The visitors! They’ve come at last!”

Chapter 12