Leafstar bit back a rebuke. I was trying to take it slowly, and now he’ll think we’re trying to force him into something.
The loner was gazing at Sagepaw as if he thought the apprentice had gone mad. “No, thanks, I can hunt for myself,” he replied.
“But it’s really great in the gorge,” Cherrytail insisted, jumping down to join the others. “We all look out for one another—”
“And we meet on the Skyrock to talk to StarClan,” Sparrowpelt added.
Leafstar winced. Now he’ll think we’ve got bees in our brain!
“Do come,” Petalnose persuaded. “You’ll learn all sorts of stuff, and meet new friends.”
The loner took a step back; Leafstar realized that the others were overwhelming him. “That’s enough,” she told the patrol. “He doesn’t have to come if he doesn’t want to. Take care,” she added to the tom.
“And stay out of our territory, too!” Sparrowpelt chipped in. “Don’t try any of your fancy hunting skills on the other side of those border marks!”
The cream-colored loner snatched up his prey and raced off into the trees without looking back.
“I wish he’d stayed,” Sagepaw murmured, his whiskers drooping with disappointment.
“Yes, he’s already as good as a trained warrior,” Cherrytail agreed, with a lash of her tail. “And he has no idea what his hunting skills mean!”
“I wish I was descended from SkyClan,” Petalnose murmured.
“You might be,” Cherrytail meowed loyally.
“Well, I can’t climb trees like you can.”
“I don’t care.” Sagepaw affectionately nuzzled his mother’s shoulder fur. “You’re perfect just as you are!”
The sun was going down; the trees cast long, black shadows and a chilly breeze whispered over the grass. It was time to return to the gorge. Leafstar collected her patrol with a sweep of her tail; as they headed back through the trees, Sparrowpelt came to pad beside her.
“If I see the loner again, I’ll have another go at trying to persuade him,” he promised.
“Don’t try too hard,” Leafstar warned him, brushing his shoulder with her tail-tip. “And don’t be too tough about chasing him off. SkyClan is open to those who want to join, but there’s room in the woods for loners, too, as long as they respect our borders.”
We don’t need to force any cat to swell the ranks of SkyClan. Let’s wait and see what happens.
Chapter 19
Stick padded across the grass of a Twoleg garden. Ahead of him, the nest was outlined against a harsh scarlet sky. There was a metallic tang in the air, and when Stick looked down he saw that his paws were clogged with blood. A Twoleg rabbit lay dead in front of him, and scraps of black-and-white fur littered the ground.
I didn’t kill it! Stick thought, bewildered.
He turned to flee as the door of the Twoleg nest was flung open and a huge male Twoleg charged out. It opened its jaws to yowl, but what came out was the terrified screech of a cat.
Stick jumped; his eyes blinked open and he found himself curled up in a huddle with Red, Cora, and Shorty in the shelter of a sloping sheet of wood that rested against the wall of a Twoleg den. Wind swirled along the alley and rain spattered down, pushing cold claws into Stick’s fur.
The terrified screech came again. Raising his head, Stick spotted Percy a few fox-lengths away, his fur bristling as he gazed around wildly with his one good eye. “They’re here!” he yowled. “Dodge and Misha are coming!”
Stick stiffened and Cora started awake, but at that moment Snowy appeared from behind a garbage can and rested her white tail over Percy’s shoulders.
“No cat is coming,” she mewed soothingly. “You had a bad dream, that’s all. Come back here with me and Coal.”
Percy stood still for a moment longer, his fur gradually beginning to lie flat, then followed the white she-cat back into shelter.
Cora stretched her jaws in a yawn. “Percy and his nightmares. He’s afraid he’s going to lose the other eye.”
Anger churned in Stick’s belly. We have to do something about Dodge.
Cora had already lowered her head and curled up again. Stick checked on Red and Shorty, who were still asleep; Shorty was snoring softly, blowing out his breath through his whiskers, while Red’s ear twitched as if she was dreaming.
Stick settled down and closed his eyes. We need all the sleep we can get if we’re going to catch enough prey at night.
The cold weather meant that prey was scarce, especially when they had to compete with Dodge and his followers for every mouse, bird, and scrawny squirrel. Stick unsheathed his claws and let them sink into the damp soil, remembering how Dodge was claiming more and more time for his cats to hunt, even though the days grew dark early.
I don’t want to give into him. But how can we hunt if we have to get into a fight every time?
Red’s scent and the feeling of her pelt pressed up against his soothed Stick’s anger. The young she-cat had been away so much lately; it was good to have her back. She was looking sleek and well fed, too, suggesting to Stick that she had been hunting farther afield.
That’s fine with me. Just as long as she doesn’t put herself at risk of getting attacked by Dodge and his flea-ridden friends while she’s on her own.
Not for the first time, Stick wondered if they should all leave and find somewhere else to live, maybe the place where Red was hunting.
But we were here first. This is our home, and I don’t want to give it up.
A faint sound from the corner of the alley disturbed him as he was slipping into sleep again. As he lifted his head, unsure what had roused him, Red rose to her paws.
“I’ll go and investigate,” she meowed, trotting off with her tail raised high.
Stick sprang up. “Wait, I’ll come with you.”
Red turned on him, her lips drawn back in the beginnings of a snarl. “Don’t you trust me?” she snapped. “I’m not a kit anymore! Don’t you think I can look after myself?”
Stick struggled out from the narrow gap behind the sheet of wood and ran after the young she-cat as she stalked away down the alley. “Wait!” he called. “I didn’t mean…”
“I know exactly what you meant,” Red hissed, refusing to look at him.
“No, you don’t!” Stick picked up his pace. “I’m trying to help you.”
This time Red whirled around to face him. Her green eyes blazed with anger and she gave a single lash of her tail. “I don’t need help. I’m not stupid; I know how to stay away from Dodge. And if I do run into him or his cats, I can fight as well as the rest of you. Why won’t you see that?”
“I do see it, but…” Stick ran out of words. With a growl of frustration, he finished, “Everything would be easier if Velvet was still here.”
As soon as the words were out, he knew he had said the wrong thing.
“Don’t you dare blame my mother!” Red spat. “I know what’s wrong. You wish I’d never been born! I’m obviously too much of a burden for you.”
Spinning around again, she raced off, her tail flowing out behind her.
“Red, come back and—”
Stick broke off as he spotted a flash of gray-brown fur at the corner where Red was heading. One of Dodge’s cats is lying in wait for her!
“Red!” he yowled.
Red whisked around the corner as if she hadn’t heard. The other cat slipped closer, though he kept to the shadows and Stick couldn’t get a good look at him.
Stick was about to follow, when a terrible noise exploded behind him: yowling and crashing and rattling coming from the other end of the alley. Stick spun around, every hair on his pelt standing on end.
Twolegs were pouring into the mouth of the alley. They carried sticks, banging and clattering them against shiny silver circles and sheets of wood. Their voices were raised in shouts and screams that made a flock of sparrows rush up from a nearby wall, chattering in alarm.