The Apprentice's Quest

Sparkpaw paused a moment, scanning the ground beyond the Twoleg fence. “I can’t see any horses,” she mewed, sounding disappointed. “Maybe they go into their dens when—”

She broke off as Squirrelflight gave her a prod. “Keep moving. We’re almost there.”

Alderpaw’s excitement mounted as they crossed a stretch of marshy ground and the tree-bridge leading to the Gathering island came into view. Another group of cats was milling around the shore near the end of the fallen tree.

“That’s WindClan,” Cherryfall told the two apprentices. “Take a good sniff so you can learn their scent.”

Alderpaw had encountered the WindClan scent on their border with ThunderClan, but it was much stronger here: a scent that suggested cool air and tough, scraggly plants. There was a hint of rabbit, too, he decided. The WindClan cats looked fairly ordinary, though they were thinner than most of his Clanmates, with long legs and wiry, muscular bodies.

Bramblestar paced forward through the crowd of cats and dipped his head politely to a brown tabby tom whose graying muzzle told of his age.

“Greetings, Onestar,” Bramblestar meowed.

“How’s the prey running in WindClan?”

“Well enough, I suppose,” the WindClan leader replied gruffly. “I hope your warriors kept close to the lake when you passed through our territory.”

“Of course.” Bramblestar’s tone was calm.

“ThunderClan would never dream of trespassing.”

Onestar’s only response was a grunt.

Bramblestar signaled to his cats to stay back while the WindClan cats crossed the tree-bridge to the island. Alderpaw’s paws prickled with nervousness as he watched them balancing along the trunk and leaping to the ground at the far end.

I wonder if any cat has ever fallen into the lake, he thought. That would be so embarrassing!

As Bramblestar began to lead the ThunderClan cats across, Alderpaw kept his head high. When it came to Sparkpaw’s turn she raced across and hurled herself onto the shore of the island with a yowl of triumph.

Cherryfall, who was next, rolled her eyes.

“I’ll have to say something to her about taking risks,” she muttered.

Alderpaw clambered onto the tree trunk and was relieved to find that it was much wider and steadier than he expected. He didn’t like the sight of the dark water just below him, or the sucking sound it made as it lapped against the tree, but he kept his gaze fixed on the island ahead of him and was massively relieved when he reached the tree roots. He jumped down beside Sparkpaw, who had waited for him.

“Come on, slow mole!” she urged him.

“We’re missing all the fun!”

Alderpaw saw that the ThunderClan warriors were pushing their way through a thick line of bushes at the top of a slope that led up from the beach. With Sparkpaw beside him, he raced up the slope and thrust himself into the bushes after his Clanmates. As the thorns raked through his pelt he reflected that he hadn’t needed to spend so much time grooming himself.

On the other side of the bushes Alderpaw found himself at the edge of a wide circle of grass. A huge, gnarled oak tree stood in the center, its roots as thick as a cat’s body. All around it cats were milling around; some were talking together in clusters, while others found comfortable spots and settled down facing the oak tree. Their mingled scents caught Alderpaw in the throat so that he almost choked.

“It looks like all the other Clans are already here,” Sparkpaw murmured into his ear. “I’ve never seen so many cats!”

Alderpaw nodded in agreement. He was especially astonished to see a crowd of young cats— probably apprentices like us, he thought—yowling and tussling together in the shelter of the bushes. I thought you were supposed to behave perfectly at a Gathering, he thought, remembering what Squirrelflight had told him.

But maybe other Clans have different rules.

“Well, what do you think?” Molewhisker asked; he had padded up unnoticed while

Alderpaw was staring at the rowdy young cats.

“It’s amazing!” Alderpaw breathed out.

“It sure is,” Cherryfall agreed, emerging from the bushes and giving her pelt a shake.

“Especially your first time.”

“Look,” Molewhisker meowed, pointing with his tail. “That’s Rowanstar, the ShadowClan leader, climbing into the Great Oak.”

Alderpaw blinked as he looked up at the powerful ginger tom who settled himself in the fork between two branches and gazed around commandingly. He looks like a cat I wouldn’t want to cross.

“You’ve already seen Onestar, there on the branch just above Rowanstar,” Molewhisker went on, indicating the brown tabby tom. “And here comes Mistystar, the RiverClan leader.”