Yellowfang’s Secret

It’s just as well they didn’t hear us talking to Hal, Yellowfang thought. They’re too young to have been born when Featherstorm was visiting the Twolegplace, which means they have no idea that Hal could be Raggedpelt’s father.

Yellowfang trotted to the fresh-kill pile and chose a mouse for herself. She noticed that Raggedpelt was casting worried glances toward Red and Boulder, his claws flexing nervously.

I should tell him that they won’t say anything about the time we went to Twolegplace. Then she let out an irritable snort. Let him suffer! If he doesn’t want to talk to me, I don’t see why I should make his life easier.

Next morning Yellowfang awoke to the sound of Cedarstar’s voice ringing out across the camp. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Clanrock for a Clan meeting!”

Yellowfang poked her head out of the warriors’ den. It had rained in the night, but now sunlight glittered on shallow pools on the floor of the clearing and on droplets caught among the branches of the dens. The dawn patrol, led by Finchflight, was just returning.

Cedarstar stood on top of the rock, watching the Clan assemble below him. Sagewhisker was sitting at the entrance of her den, with Brightflower, Lizardfang, and Littlebird beside her. Foxpaw and Wolfpaw scrambled out of the apprentices’ den and wriggled through the gathering crowd to find places at the front. Red and Boulder followed more slowly. They exchanged an anxious glance with each other and sat down close to the brambles that circled the clearing.

Nutwhisker and Ashheart brushed past Yellowfang on their way out of the den. “Come on!” Nutwhisker urged her. “Don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

Yellowfang followed them. Spotting Rowanberry sitting close to the base of the rock, she bounded over to join her. “What’s all this about?” she asked.

Rowanberry licked one paw and drew it over her ear. “No idea,” she mewed.

By now most of the Clan was sitting around the rock. Finchflight and the rest of the dawn patrol—including Raggedpelt, Yellowfang noticed—were the last to arrive. When they had settled down, Cedarstar spoke.

“Yesterday, two rogues from the Twolegplace came here and asked to join our Clan. Today they will begin their training as apprentices. Red, Boulder, come here.”

A murmur of mingled surprise and hostility rose from the assembled cats as Red and Boulder sprang to their paws. For a moment they hesitated; Red tried to give her shoulders a quick grooming.

“What happened to waiting a moon for them to prove their loyalty?” Rowanberry muttered.

Yellowfang shrugged. “I guess they have to start training right away,” she mewed. “And how can they do that without a mentor?”

“Come,” Cedarstar repeated, beckoning with his tail.

Boulder and Red picked their way through the cats, who drew back to leave them an empty space at the base of the Clanrock. They halted close to Yellowfang; though they held their heads and tails high, she could see that they were both nervous.

“What happens now?” Red hissed to her out of the side of her jaws.

“You’ll be fine,” Yellowfang reassured her softly. “Just listen to Cedarstar.”

“Red,” Cedarstar began, “you have left your home in Twolegplace, and stated your wish to become a member of ShadowClan. From this time on you shall be known as Russetpaw.” His gaze traveled around the cats until it rested on Featherstorm. “Featherstorm,” he went on, “you are a skillful Clan cat with an excellent knowledge of the warrior code. I know that you will pass this knowledge on to your apprentice.”

Yellowfang bit back an exclamation of surprise. Cedarstar knows that Featherstorm used to hang out with Twolegplace cats! Russetpaw and Boulder might be too young to remember seeing her there, but what if they heard about her from the kittypets?

Featherstorm, looking less than pleased, made her way to the front and stood waiting. “She’s your mentor,” Yellowfang whispered to Russetpaw. “Go and touch noses with her.”

With a grateful look, Russetpaw obeyed, and stood beside Featherstorm while Cedarstar continued. “Boulder, you too have asked for a place in ShadowClan. From this time on you shall be known as—”

“Hang on,” Boulder meowed.

Yellowfang gasped. No cat interrupted the Clan leader, especially when he spoke from the Clanrock.

“He’ll be crow-food!” Rowanberry muttered.

Cedarstar’s tail lashed once. “What is it?”