Fireheart smelled a familiar scent on the hedge beside him. “Your marker,” he commented to Ravenpaw.
“This is where my territory begins.” Ravenpaw swung his head around, signaling that the wide sweep of fields ahead of them was where he lived and hunted.
“Then Cloudpaw is near here?” asked Sandstorm, sniffing warily.
“There’s a dip on the other side of that rise,” Ravenpaw told her, pointing with his nose. “The Twoleg nest is there.”
Fireheart suddenly felt the fur on his spine tingle. What was that smell? He froze and opened his mouth to let the scent reach the glands inside.
Beside him Ravenpaw had lifted his nose, his black ears pricked and his tail flicking nervously. His eyes widened in alarm. “Dogs!” he hissed.
Chapter 20
Fireheart heard grass swishing behind the hedge and tensed his shoulders as the strong odor filled the air. A loud bark made his tail fluff out, and a heartbeat later he saw the quivering nose of a dog thrusting through the hedge.
“Run!” he yowled, spinning around. Another rustle and a yelp of excitement told him that a second dog was following the first.
Fireheart fled. Sandstorm raced beside him, her fur brushing his as they pelted along the hedgerow with the dogs at their heels. The drumming of the dogs’ paws made the ground tremble, and Fireheart could feel their breath hot on his neck. He glanced over his shoulder. Two massive dogs loomed behind them, their soft flesh rippling, their eyes glaring, and their tongues lolling. With a jolt, Fireheart realized that Ravenpaw was nowhere to be seen.
“Keep running,” he hissed to Sandstorm. “They won’t be able to keep this pace up for long.” Sandstorm managed to nod, her paws pounding faster.
He was right. When he turned his head again, he saw that the dogs had begun to fall behind. Fireheart sized up an ash tree in the hedgerow ahead of them. It was some way off, but if they could put enough distance between themselves and the dogs, they might be able to scramble up it to safety.
“See that ash?” he meowed to Sandstorm, panting. “Climb it as quickly as you can. I’ll follow.”
Sandstorm grunted in agreement, her breath coming in ragged gasps. They raced on toward the tree. Fireheart yowled to Sandstorm and she shot up the trunk, clawing her way to safety.
Before he leaped for the tree, Fireheart looked over his shoulder once more to see how far away the dogs were. His fur shot up when he saw huge teeth barely a rabbitlength from his face. With a vicious snarl the dog lunged at him. Fireheart whipped around and lashed out with his forepaws, his claws sharp as blackthorns. He felt the flesh rip on the dog’s swaying jowls and heard it yelp in pain. He slashed once more, then turned and scrambled up the tree, as fast as a squirrel. He stopped on the lowest branch and looked down. Below him the dog yowled in frustration while the other joined it, throwing its huge head back and bellowing angrily.
“I…I thought he’d gotten you!” Sandstorm stammered. She crawled along the branch and pressed her flank against Fireheart’s ruffled fur until they both stopped trembling.
The dogs fell silent, but they stayed at the bottom of the tree, pacing back and forth.
“Where’s Ravenpaw?” Sandstorm asked suddenly.
Fireheart shook his head, trying to clear away the terror he had felt when the dogs were chasing him. “He must have run the other way. He should be okay. I think there were only two dogs.”
“I thought this was his territory. Didn’t he know there were dogs on this side of the field too?”
Fireheart couldn’t answer. He saw Sandstorm’s expression darken. “You don’t suppose he led us here on purpose?” she growled, narrowing her eyes.
“Of course not,” snapped Fireheart, a flash of uncertainty making him sound defensive. “Why would he?”
“It’s just strange he should turn up out of nowhere and lead us here, that’s all.”
A high-pitched mew made Fireheart and Sandstorm peer down through the leaves. Was that Ravenpaw? The dogs swung their heads around as they tried to locate the sound. Fireheart spotted a sleek black shape disappearing into the barley. Ravenpaw yowled again, and the dogs pricked up their ears. With barks of excitement they hurtled toward the swaying stems that gave away Ravenpaw’s hiding place.
Fireheart stared down from the tree. Could Ravenpaw outrun the dogs? He watched the barley tremble as Ravenpaw zigzagged invisibly through the field. The brown backs of the dogs crashed after him like ungainly fish, flattening the stalks with their clumsy paws and barking with frustration.
Suddenly Fireheart heard the sharp yap of a Twoleg. The dogs stopped in their tracks and lifted their heads above the barley stalks, their tongues lolling out. Fireheart peered along the field. A Twoleg was climbing over a wooden fence set in the hedge. Two lengths of something like twine dangled from its hand. Reluctantly the dogs began to push their way through the barley toward the Twoleg, who grabbed the collars around their necks and attached them to the twine. With a sigh of relief Fireheart watched the dogs being dragged away, their tails down and their ears drooping.
“I see you’re as fast as ever!”
Fireheart whipped around in surprise. Ravenpaw was clawing his way from the trunk onto their branch. The black cat nodded at Sandstorm. “Not sure why they bothered chasing her, though. She wouldn’t have made much of a meal.”
Sandstorm stood up and brushed past Ravenpaw. “Don’t we have an apprentice to rescue?” she inquired icily.
“I see she’s still a bit prickly,” Ravenpaw remarked.
“I wouldn’t tease her if I were you,” Fireheart murmured as he followed Sandstorm down the tree. He decided not to tell his old friend that Sandstorm had suspected him of leading them into a trap. Ravenpaw was no fool—he’d probably worked that out for himself, but it was a sign of his newfound confidence that he wouldn’t let her hostility bother him. And with the dogs safely out of the way, the only thing Fireheart wanted to think about was finding Cloudpaw.
Ravenpaw led them to the top of the rise and stopped. A Twoleg dwelling lay in the shallow valley ahead of them, just as he had promised.
“That’s where you took Cloudpaw?” Fireheart asked.
When the black cat nodded, Fireheart’s belly began to churn with nervous excitement. Even if they did find Cloudpaw, what if he didn’t want to come back with them? And if he did, would the Clan ever be able to trust a cat who had been lured into the softness of kittypet life?
“I can’t smell him,” Sandstorm remarked, and Fireheart didn’t miss the suspicious edge to her tone.
“His scent was already stale when I came to see him last time,” Ravenpaw explained patiently. “I think the Twolegs are keeping him locked in.”
“Then how exactly are we supposed to rescue him?”
“Come on,” Fireheart meowed, determined not to give the two cats a chance to start arguing. He began to head down the slope toward the dwelling. “Let’s take a closer look.”
The Twoleg dwelling was surrounded by a neatly clipped hedge. Fireheart pushed his way through it and stared across the browning grass to the Twoleg nest silhouetted against the dusky sky. He flattened his body to the ground and crept toward the nearest bush, his ears pricked. His nose was no good here. The evening air was filled with cloying flower scents that drowned out more useful smells. He heard pawsteps on the grass behind him and turned to see Ravenpaw and Sandstorm following, their quarrel apparently put aside for now. He nodded to them, grateful for their company, and carried on across the lawn.