Outcast (24 page)

 

The milky light of dawn was in the sky as Lionpaw emerged from behind the waterfall. Dew misted the rocks and dripped from the leaves of bushes around the pool, but the heavy cloud cover of the day before was gone. He wondered if that was a good omen.

His paws tingled with a mixture of fear and excitement as the rest of the patrol left the cave and sprang down to cluster together by the pool. All the Clan cats were there except for
Squirrelflight and Jaypaw; from the Tribe, Stoneteller had chosen Crag, Night, and Talon, and Pebble and Splash from the to-bes.

“I never thought
we'd
be chosen,” Pebble mewed, bouncing on her paws. “Do you think we'll have to fight?”

“I hope not,” Hollypaw replied. “If we do, remember those moves I taught you. You should be fine.”

Brambleclaw called his cats together with a wave of his tail. “We'll head for the pool where we met the trespassers,” he announced. “We should be able to pick up their trail from there.”

“Good luck!” Squirrelflight's voice called.

Lionpaw turned. His mother had appeared from the cave and was crouching on a boulder beside the sheet of thundering water. Her flame-colored pelt glowed in the strengthening light.

“Thanks,” Brambleclaw replied. “Keep an eye on things while we're away.”

Squirrelflight's ears flicked up. “I will, don't worry.”

So that's why she's staying,
Lionpaw thought.
Just in case the intruders come visiting while all these cats are gone
.

The journey across the new territory to the pool didn't seem as far today. Lionpaw realized that his muscles were getting used to clambering up and down rocks, and even his pads were tougher.

“There's intruder scent,” Tawnypelt meowed when they arrived. “But it's stale. I don't think they've been this way since the day we saw them.”

“They went that way.” Crowfeather angled his ears toward the boulders that led to the narrow cleft in the rock. “Maybe they were taking prey back to their camp.”

“It's worth a try,” Brambleclaw agreed, leading the way between the boulders and into the gap.

Lionpaw kept tasting the air as he followed, but the intruder scent was hard to follow, mingled with their own scent from the previous patrols. It grew stronger as they passed the place where they had fought the young cats, then seemed to fade away altogether by the time they reached the head of the valley.

“Mouse dung,” Tawnypelt muttered. “Don't say we've lost them.”

Every cat stood silent, tasting the air, then cast about over the rocks for any trace of the elusive scent. Lionpaw's belly growled as he detected the scent of mouse, and he had to remind himself sharply that they weren't hunting now. But there was no sign of the trespassers.

“Over here!” Lionpaw turned to see Hollypaw waving her tail urgently from beneath a huge, jutting boulder. “I think they went this way.”

Brambleclaw padded up and drew in a long breath of air. “You're right.” He touched his nose to his daughter's ear. “That was well scented. You'd better take the lead.”

Hollypaw's eyes glowed with pride. She led the way beneath the overhang and up a slope so steep it was hard to find a paw hold. At the top she paused for a few heartbeats, then began to pick her way down the other side. Lionpaw's
feet skidded as loose rock shifted beneath them. He hoped Hollypaw was right; he had lost all scent of the intruders.

“Your sister's great, isn't she?” Pebble murmured, catching up to him. “I don't think even our prey-hunters could follow this scent.”

“She's the best,” Lionpaw meowed proudly. “Back home, she always brings back the most prey.”

At the foot of the slope the scent grew stronger again. Lionpaw could detect traces of many cats, and his pelt prickled. They must be getting close to the trespassers' camp!

The trail crossed a dried-up watercourse, then led to a narrow cleft between two sheer rocks that tilted together so that they almost touched at the top. The gap led back into darkness; the intruders' scent was overpowering.

“I think this is it,” Brambleclaw murmured.

“Do we go in?” Crag asked.

“No. We've got no idea how many cats we'd be facing. Besides, we'd just be asking them to attack us if we set paw in their camp uninvited. We'll wait.”

The cats spread out into a loose semicircle. Lionpaw saw Tawnypelt staring at the cleft with as much concentration as if she were waiting for a mouse to come out of its hole. Crowfeather looked nervous, his ears flattened as he cast glances over his shoulder, keeping watch behind. Stormfur and Brook sat close together, quietly murmuring, while Crag paced restlessly back and forth.

Lionpaw padded over to Hollypaw until his pelt brushed hers. “Well done. You found it.”

Hollypaw's whiskers twitched. “Let's hope they'll talk to us now that we're here.”

Suddenly there was movement inside the cleft. A cat's head poked out; Lionpaw recognized the young tortoiseshell he had encountered twice before. Her eyes stretched wide in horror when she saw the waiting cats, and she darted back at once into the shadow of the cleft. Lionpaw heard a panic-stricken yowling as she withdrew.

“It shouldn't be long now,” Brambleclaw commented.

Every heartbeat felt like a season. Then Lionpaw spotted a pale pelt inside the cleft. Stripes, the silver-furred tom they had met when they first reached the mountains, stepped out of the cleft and faced Brambleclaw.

More of the trespassers crept out behind him. Lionpaw recognized Flora, the brown-and-white she-cat, and Flick, the skinny brown tom who had been with Stripes. The black tom was there, too, who had led the hunting patrol they met by the pool. They all looked thin, and some of them were limping. Lionpaw could tell that they weren't finding mountain life easy. But he couldn't ignore the glow of determination in their eyes.

“What do you want?” Stripes demanded.

Brambleclaw glanced at Crag, flicking his ears for the Tribe cat to speak.

“We need to talk to you,” Crag meowed. “We want an end to this conflict. The mountains are big enough to support every cat, but we need to divide up the territory so that we all have an equal chance at prey.”

He paused as if he expected Stripes to comment, but the silver tom just jerked his head and muttered, “Go on.”

“The Tribe has marked borders closing in our territory,” Crag explained. “Our scent will show you where they are. You are free to hunt in the rest of the mountains, but not to cross those borders. We—”

Outraged yowling drowned him out. The trespassers' fur was bristling and their eyes blazed with anger.

Stripes took a pace forward until he was barely a tail-length away from Crag. “You have no right to any part of the mountains,” he growled. “You have no right to set borders. Any cat can take prey from where it likes.”

“That's not fair!” Tawnypelt protested. “Can't you see, we're trying to—”

“This is about life or death,” Stripes interrupted. His claws slid out. “If necessary, our life and your death.”

Horror slashed through Hollypaw like the
claws of fighting cats. “They haven't any code at all!” she gasped, turning to her brother. “Even the Tribe understands about duty and being fair. These cats just don't care!”

Her muscles tensed, ready to leap into battle. The patrol had come in peace, wanting only to talk, but now it looked as if the truce would be shattered.
StarClan, help us
, she prayed, not even knowing if StarClan could hear her under these strange skies.
Show us what to do
.

Beckoning with her tail, she gathered the Tribe to-bes close to her. Lionpaw and Breezepaw flanked them on either side.

“Do we fight now?” Splash asked nervously.

“Let's hope not,” Lionpaw replied. Hollypaw was grateful for the reassurance in his voice. “But Hollypaw will give you a signal if we have to.”

She didn't have much hope that they could avoid a battle now. Stripes had made it clear that the trespassers had no intention of respecting the borders the Tribe had worked so hard to set in place. The Tribe were no better off than when they started.

At Stripes's challenge, Crag had stepped forward until the
two cats stood nose to nose. His neck fur bristled and his eyes were narrowed menacingly. “If you're looking for a fight—”

Brambleclaw stopped him with a touch of his tail on his shoulder and motioned him back. “This isn't the right time,” he murmured. “They outnumber us, for one thing. Best go back to the cave and see what happens.”

“I
know
what's going to happen,” Crag snarled.

For a couple of heartbeats Hollypaw thought that he would defy Brambleclaw and leap into battle. Then the rest of them would have to fight to back him up.

At last Crag let out a long sigh, bowing his head. “Have it your way,” he mewed to Brambleclaw.

Brambleclaw touched his tail to the cave-guard's shoulder once again, a silent gesture of gratitude. Facing Stripes, he meowed, “We will defend our borders. It's your choice if you cross them.”

“Fine.” Stripes flicked his tail. “We'll bear that in mind. Not forgetting that some of you don't belong here.”

“He means us,” Lionpaw whispered. “He knows we'll go home sooner or later. Then the Tribe will be weaker….”

He didn't need to go on. It was obvious to Hollypaw that Stripes meant to attack the Tribe as soon as the Clan cats left them defenseless.
But we can't stay here forever
, she thought, struggling against a pang of homesickness for the forest and the camp in the stone hollow.

Brambleclaw turned and led his cats away. Mocking caterwauls followed them. “Don't bother coming back!” Flick yowled.

The sun was well above the mountains as the patrol made
its way back to the cave. Golden rays warmed the rocks, but Hollypaw felt as cold as if she were padding through a bitter leaf-bare.

“Do you think that was okay?” Splash fretted. “They know about our borders now, so they should leave us alone.”

“I hope I'll be on the first patrol!” Pebble added.

“Let's wait and see,” Hollypaw mewed. She wasn't sure if the Tribe to-bes really hadn't understood what had just happened, or whether they were forcing themselves to be optimistic. She couldn't bring herself to tell them that borders didn't exist unless they were seen from both sides. The trespassers had shown that they had no honor, not a scrap of respect for their rivals, so it was only a matter of time before they crossed the boundaries and stole more prey from the Tribe.

The warrior code has failed
, she thought. She had built her life on it, and now she felt as though she had stepped off a precipice and was plummeting down into darkness.
Even the Tribe doesn't really understand it
.

She gave herself a shake. The Tribe might not have the warrior code, but they had traditions just as ancient and important. Perhaps the Tribe of Endless Hunting would come to their aid at last.

 

The patrol had reached the boulder-covered slope that led down to the stream when Brambleclaw paused suddenly, raising his tail to bring the other cats to a halt behind him. “Intruder scent!” he hissed.

Hollypaw felt the fur on her shoulders begin to bristle. Tasting the air, she picked up a strong, fresh scent, carried on the breeze that swept across the bare rock. She couldn't see the intruders, but she realized that they must be very close.

“I don't believe this,” Lionpaw muttered into her ear. His fur was fluffed up with anger and his tail tip twitched back and forth. “We only just told them about the borders, and they're already trespassing.”

“Look—down there!” Pebble angled her ears toward the stream.

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.”

The Tribe cats were looking at one another with bewilderment in their eyes. Confused murmurs came from them; eventually Crag spoke up. “Stoneteller, we don't understand.
What do you want us to do?”

“I should have thought that was clear enough.” Stoneteller's voice was icy. “I want you to choose what we should do—find a new place to live, or stay and fight. The Tribe of Endless Hunting does not want me to influence your decision.”

“I bet they don't.” The furious mutter startled Hollypaw. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Jaypaw had joined them, sitting with his tail curled neatly over his paws.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Her brother twitched his ears. “Don't you get it? Stoneteller can say what he likes about the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Who's to know any different?”

Hollypaw stared at him in alarm. How could Jaypaw say that? No Clan cat would dare tell lies about StarClan—how could it be so different for the Tribe?

Stoneteller began to speak again. “All cats who wish to fight should go to that side of the cave.” He waved his tail. “Those who wish to flee, go to the other side. Remember that you choose the future of your Tribe.”

“Let's hope they have a future,” Lionpaw murmured.

For a few heartbeats no cat moved. Hollypaw thought that the Tribe cats were too bewildered by what Stoneteller was telling them to do. Then she spotted the skinny white elder, Cloud, muttering to another old cat, a speckled brown tom.

“What do you think, Rain?” Cloud asked him. “Fight or flee?”

The old tom let out a disgusted snort. “I never wanted to
fight, but I'm too old to flee far.”

Just beyond the elders, two she-cats had their heads together, murmuring anxiously to each other.

“Swoop, what should we do? I can't fight while I'm suckling my kits. But they can't flee; their eyes are barely open! And I
won't
leave them.”

“Don't worry, Flight,” the other she-cat mewed soothingly. “No cat expects you to abandon your kits. I won't leave mine, either.”

Talon loomed over them; both she-cats looked up at him uncertainly.

“Choose to fight,” the huge cave-guard growled. “That way, the Tribe will protect you as it protects all kit-mothers and their litters.” He encircled both she-cats with his tail and drew them over to the “fight” side of the cave, where he stood beside them as if he was already protecting them from danger.

By now Hollypaw could see that the Tribe was beginning to divide into two groups. Pebble and Splash bounded quickly over to choose fighting. Screech spat something after them that Hollypaw couldn't catch and withdrew to the far side with the other to-be prey-hunter. Night joined Talon, but to Hollypaw's surprise Gray chose to flee and Bird, after a brief hesitation, chose that too.

Hollypaw found that her heart was pounding and her muscles were tense. She didn't know why it should matter so much to her that the Tribe should keep its home in the mountains; she only knew that it
did
matter, desperately. If
they left their home they would have to suffer the hardships and dangers of a long journey, and they would leave all their traditions, everything that was familiar, behind them. They would no longer be the Tribe.

Now very few cats remained to choose. Crag still stood in the center of the cave, his eyes troubled. Eventually, with a curt nod to Brambleclaw, he padded over to join the cats who had chosen to fight. Talon welcomed him with a tail tip on his shoulder.

All this time Stormfur and Brook had stood silent, their pelts brushing. At last Brook glanced up at Stormfur, pleading in her eyes. He touched his nose to her ear, then laid his tail across her back and led her over to her brother, Talon.

“Do they get to choose?” Lionpaw asked in a whisper. “Are they Tribe or Clan?”

“I don't think even they know,” Hollypaw replied.

The Clan cats remained in the middle of the cave, drawing closer together as the Tribe moved away. At last they were alone. Hollypaw's heart raced when she realized that there were more cats on the “fight” side of the cave.