She won’t thank me if I try to persuade her, he thought. Better leave it to Blossomheart.
His sister took her mouse and set it down in front of Pebblepaw. “Come on, share this with me,” she urged her friend.
“Look, it’s really fat and juicy. I can’t possibly eat all of it.”
Pebblepaw stretched out her neck, sniffed the mouse, then took a tiny bite. “You can have the rest,” she mewed, turning away again.
Hawkwing exchanged a glance with Blossomheart, knowing that there was no point in arguing with Pebblepaw anymore. We’ll get her to Echosong tomorrow; then she’ll be better.
He and Waspwhisker were sharing the vole when Hawkwing heard a sudden rustling outside the hazel clump. He stiffened and his neck fur rose.
There’s something out there!
Turning in the direction of the sound, Hawkwing picked up the scent of a cat. Thank StarClan! At least it’s not a badger! he thought, feeling weak with relief. Their den was flooded with the scent of fresh-kill; that must have been why it had managed to get so close without alerting any of the patrol.
Taking a deeper sniff of the scent, Hawkwing realized that there was a tang of Twolegs about it.
“That’s a kittypet,” he whispered. “Stay here. I’ll deal with it.”
What’s a kittypet doing here? he wondered as he pushed his way out through the bushes. I didn’t see a Twolegplace when we passed this way before.
Standing on the grass outside was a fluffy-haired she-cat with pelt of orange, black, and white. She looked almost comical with a black patch over one eye and an orange patch over the other. Her fur was shiny and clean, and she wore a collar; a small gleaming thing dangled from it and made a tinkling sound like water drops as she turned her head to look at Hawkwing.
“Hi,” she meowed cheerfully. “M y name’s Betsy. What’s yours?”
Hawkwing found it strange to hear a friendly voice; he and his Clanmates had been traveling in almost total silence. He was surprised too that a kittypet should sound so bold when confronted with a strange cat.
“I’m Hawkwing,” he replied warily.
“And I’m Waspwhisker.” Hawkwing realized that his Clanmates had followed him out and were standing at his back.
“These are Blossomheart and Pebblepaw. What’s a kittypet doing so far away from the Twolegplace?”
Betsy looked puzzled for a moment, as if she didn’t understand the question. Then she shrugged, and her gaze cleared.
“M y housefolk live over there.” She gestured with her tail, back toward the split tree, but in a different direction from the one the patrol had taken. “Anyway, I could ask you the same thing,” she meowed. “What are you doing here?”
She’s not scared of us at all, Hawkwing thought, feeling a twinge of admiration in spite of himself. And we must seem a fearsome lot to a kittypet!
“Oh, we live a long way away,” he replied, deliberately not giving Betsy any details. I don’t know who she is, and anyway it’s none of her business. “We’re on a journey.”
“Have you seen any other groups of cats hanging around here recently?” Waspwhisker asked, taking a pace forward to examine the kittypet more closely.
Waspwhisker means the other Clans. Hawkwing was disappointed when Betsy shook her head. It would be great if we managed to find them after all… but it looks like they’re not here.
“Cats like you, you mean? No, certainly not,” Betsy answered.
“No wild cats would make a home here, not with all those terrifying beasts around.”
“Terrifying beasts?” Hawkwing asked, suppressing a shiver.
“Yes,” Betsy continued. “I don’t know what they’re called, but they’re a bit like cats, only bigger, with pointed heads and huge teeth. You look as if you’ve met them already,” she added, her gaze traveling over the Clan cats’ wounds. “You look a bit… battered.”
“Those would be badgers,” Waspwhisker growled. “And yes, we had a difference of opinion with them. Tell us more—when did they move in?”
“Oh, ages ago. They’ve been here for seasons and seasons,” Betsy replied.
Waspwhisker twitched his whiskers in surprise, exchanging a glance with Hawkwing. “Really?”
So why did Darktail think those dens were abandoned?
Hawkwing wondered.
“Oh, yes, this place is known for being full of them. There’s one nest in a clearing over there, with a stream running through it.”
Betsy pointed with her nose, clearly indicating the place where the patrol had battled with the badgers. “And many more nests beyond that. I wouldn’t go that way if I were you.”
“No, we’re going the other way,” Blossomheart put in. “We’ve seen quite enough of the badgers, thank you very much.”
“Good. Because those beasts would rip your fur off as soon as look at you.” Betsy’s eyes were stretched wide, and Hawkwing sensed that she was getting quite a thrill out of telling them about these horrors. Like we don’t know about them for ourselves!
“They’ve killed quite a few pets, so most housefolk don’t allow their cats outside.”
“You’re outside,” Hawkwing pointed out to Betsy.
“Oh, I’m a bit reckless,” she confessed cheerfully. “No housefolk are going to keep me indoors. I’m good at sneaking, and I know to keep well clear of those beasts.”
“Well, thank you for the warning,” Hawkwing meowed. Even though we didn’t need it, it was kind of her to come up to a bunch of strange cats to tell us about them.
“You’re welcome.” Betsy licked one forepaw and drew it over her ear. “Well, I’d better be going. It’s about time for my housefolk to feed me. ’Bye!”
“Good-bye!” Hawkwing called after her as she skirted the hazel bushes with a wave of her plumy tail, then streaked up the slope and was lost to sight over the hill. She might have made a good daylight warrior, he thought, surprising himself by feeling a hint of regret.
“So the badgers have been there for seasons and seasons,” Waspwhisker muttered. “What was Darktail thinking of?”
“M aybe they were asleep, or out hunting when he passed that way,” Blossomheart responded.
Hawkwing flicked his tail-tip at his sister, but said nothing. She might want to think the best of every cat, but it was still a huge mistake for Darktail to make. For the first time Hawkwing felt a flicker of uneasiness when he thought about the strange rogue cat.
Did he deliberately lead us into danger? he asked himself. Did he get Billystorm killed? Fury began to bubble up inside Hawkwing.
What do we really know about Darktail? We invited him in so quickly. He slid out his claws, rustling the leaves beneath his paws.
A terrible thought was taking root in his mind.
Were we fools to trust Darktail? Was I a fool to bring him back into our camp?
Chapter 8
Sunhigh had just passed when the warriors approached the top of the gorge above the SkyClan camp. It was the third day since they had left the split tree where Billystorm was buried. The sun was shining and the air was warm, but even now that they were so close to home, their hearts were dark and cold. Once again they had traveled in almost total silence, and Hawkwing knew that every cat’s grief for Billystorm was growing sharper as they drew nearer to the moment when they would have to tell the story to their Clanmates.