Oakstar curled his lip, showing a glint of yellow teeth. “It will do no harm for RiverClan to know that they may have robbed us of two fine cats, but thanks to Birchface, there will be three more warriors ready to defend what is rightfully ours.”
Mapleshade felt a stir of alarm. “The warrior code says we must show mercy to the warriors we have defeated,” she pointed out.
“Appledusk didn’t show any mercy to Birchface and Flowerpaw!” Frecklewish hissed, lashing her tail.
It was an accident! Mapleshade wanted to shriek. Birchface fell! Flowerpaw should never have followed him into the river! But she controlled herself. She couldn’t let Frecklewish suspect she had any sympathy for Appledusk. Not yet.
Oakstar was starting to back out of the nursery. “Right now, the most important thing is that Mapleshade’s kits are safe and well,” he meowed. There was a grim note to his voice that made
Mapleshade’s fur stand up. “We will raise them to be great warriors like their father,” Oakstar vowed, “and let them avenge his death when they are ready.” He turned and vanished into the clearing, leaving the bramble wall trembling.
Frecklewish bent over the furry little bodies and touched her muzzle lightly to each squirming rump. “They are my brother’s gift to the Clan,” she murmured. “And the most precious creatures in the whole forest!”
Mapleshade fought down the urge to bat Frecklewish away. These are my kits, not yours! She knew that the ginger she-cat’s friendship would go a long way toward her kits being loved by all of ThunderClan. By the time the kits were ready to be apprenticed, the truth about who their father really was would be unable to shake the loyalty of their woodland Clanmates. Even Oakstar would understand, once he valued the kits for themselves rather than any legacy they might carry. And once RiverClan gets to know them, those cats will feel the same!
Chapter 3
“Watch this, Larchkit!” Wrinkling her muzzle in concentration, Petalkit gripped the bundle of dry moss in her jaws and shook it violently.
Her brother grabbed the moss from her and tossed it across the clearing. Both kits scrambled after it, Petalkit winning by a nose. She flopped down on top of the moss. “Mine!” she declared.
“Don’t you want to join in?” Mapleshade asked Patchkit, who was lying in the curve of her belly.
His fur matched hers so perfectly that it was impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began. “It looks like they’re having fun.”
Her son shook his head. “I’m fine here,” he mewed. He snuggled in a little closer. “You need me to keep you warm, don’t you?” His green eyes blinked anxiously at her.
Mapleshade stifled a purr of laughter. She could barely feel his tiny body against hers. It was a rare cloud-free day in the rainwashed leaf-fall, and the sunbeams were just strong enough to bring cats out of their dens to bask, though there was a chill in the ground that warned of leaf-bare just around the corner.
“You’re doing a great job,” she told Patchkit. “I might have to share you with the elders to stop them getting cold.”
Patchkit’s green eyes opened wide in alarm. “No! I want to stay with you forever and ever! Even when I’m an apprentice!”
Mapleshade nuzzled the top of his head. “That won’t be for another four moons, little one. By then you’ll be so big and strong, you’ll be glad to leave the nursery and start your warrior training!”
“No I won’t,” muttered Patchkit, burying his face in her chest fur. “I never want to leave you.”
Petalkit and Larchkit were standing side by side, looking at the moss.
“You’ve ripped it to pieces!” Larchkit protested. “It doesn’t roll away now, look.” He prodded the pile of dusty brown shreds with his paw.
Petalkit shrugged. “It was trying to escape and I caught it!”
One of the elders, a gray tabby named Rabbitfur, padded stiffly over to the kits. “Looks like she’s killed it,” he observed. “Want to play a different game?”
“Yes please!” mewed Larchkit.
Rabbitfur used his front paw to roll a small stone into the middle of the clearing. Then he nudged a twig with his nose until it lay a bit less than a fox-length from the stone. Mapleshade propped herself up to watch.
“I want you to stand by this stick,” Rabbitfur meowed, pointing with his tail, “and pounce on that stone without touching the ground in between.”
Petalkit blinked. “But that’s almost at the other side of the clearing!”
“I’d have to grow wings to jump that far!” mewed Larchkit.
“Don’t be mouse-brained,” snorted Rabbitfur. “Your father could leap twice that distance, and land on the smallest leaf without disturbing a fly.”
Mapleshade felt a stir of alarm in her belly. Beside her, Patchkit sat up and tipped his head to one side. “Rabbitfur’s really bossy!” he squeaked.
Petalkit was crouching down beside the twig, wiggling her rump as she braced herself for the jump. With a grunt, she heaved herself forward, but her hind paw caught on the stick. She lurched sideways, snapping the twig, and sprawled on the ground at Rabbitfur’s paws.
“Humph!” he muttered. “Try again.”
This time Petalkit managed to clear the stick but she barely made half of the distance to the stone.
Rabbitfur shook his head. “Your turn, Larchkit,” he rumbled.
The little brown tom looked very determined as he hunkered down. He sprang into the air, almost as high as Rabbitfur’s ears, but came down almost vertically, like an acorn falling from a tree.
Rabbitfur had to dodge out of the way to avoid being squashed. “Watch out!” He gave his chest fur a couple of licks. “Birchface managed to pounce without flattening any cats,” he grunted.
Mapleshade couldn’t listen to any more. She jumped out, dislodging Patchkit, who rolled over with a squawk, and trotted into the clearing. “Perhaps they take after me, Rabbitfur,” she meowed. “I can’t pounce, either.”
The old tom narrowed his eyes. “You’re not that bad,” he rasped. “I can’t believe any kit of Birchface would be heavy-footed as a badger.” He glanced at Petalkit, who was licking the paw that had caught on the stick.
The blood was roaring in Mapleshade’s ears now. “I will not have my kits judged before they have even begun their warrior training!” she hissed. “Patchkit, come here! We’re going for a walk in the forest!”
Patchkit scampered over, but Petalkit was pouting. “I want to stay here and practice jumping,” she mewed. “I want to be as good as Birchface.”
Rabbitfur looked pleased. “You should be very proud of who your father was,” he purred. “I remember the time we were stalking a pheasant over by Twolegplace. I’d never seen a bird that big, but Birchface was fearless—and so quiet, I couldn’t hear him over the breeze in the leaves!”
“I think the kits need to stretch their legs outside the camp,” Mapleshade meowed, interrupting Rabbitfur’s memories. “Come on, you three! No arguments, Petalkit.”
Patchkit’s green eyes—so like Appledusk’s, they made Mapleshade’s heart flip over—were huge.
“Are we allowed outside? I thought we had to stay in the camp until we are old enough to be apprentices.”
“I’ll be with you so you’ll be perfectly safe,” Mapleshade told him. Oakstar and Beetail were out on patrol and Frecklewish had gone to check the barrier of stones at Snakerocks. Rabbitfur had wandered back to his sunny spot outside the elders’ den. Apart from some dozing cats, the clearing was empty. No one would take much notice if she took the kits out.