Suddenly something hard pushed against his belly. Beneath the water, a strong back steadied him while he regained his balance, then disappeared. A moment later, Ottersplash broke the surface. She blew water from her nose.
“Hailstar warned you about the currents,” she murmured, and swam close beside Talltail until they reached the shore where Barkface and Rippleclaw were shaking out their pelts.
Talltail stretched his feet down to the pebbles, relieved as he felt them underpaw, and staggered out after Ottersplash. “Thanks,” he grunted.
Ottersplash shrugged. “I’m impressed a WindClan cat can swim at all.”
Rippleclaw nodded along the trail toward the gorge. “We’ll watch you go,” he meowed. “To make sure you don’t have trouble on the path. It’s steep beside the gorge.”
He wants to make sure we cross the border. Talltail prickled with irritation. Why was an invisible scent line so important?
“Thanks.” Barkface shook the water from his fur. He dipped his head to the RiverClan warriors, the precious plant in his jaws.
Talltail swished his tail, stirring the pebbles behind. “Thanks,” he grunted, and headed toward the gorge.
At the top, Barkface dropped the root at Talltail’s paws. “Take this to Hawkheart as quickly as you can. You’re faster than me and he’ll know what to do with it.”
“Okay.” Talltail grabbed the root and pelted up the slope toward camp. The wind streamed through his ears, freezing the tips.
As he burst into camp and raced across the clearing, Hawkheart stuck his head out of the medicine den. “You got it!” He snatched the root from Talltail’s mouth and disappeared inside. Talltail paced in a tight circle outside.
Meadowslip hurried over with her mate, Hickorynose.
Hickorynose glanced at Talltail’s wet pelt. “Did you swim the river?” His eyes widened.
“It was the only way across.”
Hickorynose dipped his head. “Thank you, Talltail. Your courage may have saved our kit’s life.” He looked past Talltail toward the medicine den.
Talltail followed his gaze. “Let’s hope it works.”
“I smell grouse.” Dawnstripe jerked her head toward the heather. It shimmered, frost-tipped, in the early morning sunshine. Beside her, the bramble that marked the Fourtrees border still reeked with the stench of ShadowClan.
Aspenfall tasted the air, nodding. “Definitely grouse.”
Plumclaw lifted her tail. “It’ll make a good meal for the elders.”
Talltail was impressed with how willingly the tunnelers had slipped into the role of moor runners now that all the tunnels had been blocked off. Their underground duties had given them agility and strength, traits easily turned to hunting on the moor.
Dawnstripe headed across the grass. “Perhaps Hopkit will be well enough to eat some today.”
In the sunrises since Talltail and Barkface had returned from RiverClan, Hopkit had rarely been conscious. The sedge root hadn’t cured him overnight, but it seemed to have slowed the infection and given the young tom a chance to fight for his life. Barkface had even reported that the swelling in his paw had begun to ease. Hopkit might yet recover.
“Talltail?” Dawnstripe’s mew jolted Talltail from his thoughts. Plumclaw and Aspenfall were already nosing their way into the wide swathe of heather. “Are you coming?”
Talltail’s nose twitched as he scented rabbit. “You can catch grouse without me,” he told her. “I smell prey here.”
“You’d rather hunt alone?” Dawnstripe narrowed her eyes, then followed her Clanmates without waiting for an answer.
Why waste four warriors on one catch? Talltail watched her tail disappear into the heather, then sniffed the grass. The ShadowClan stink from the bramble was distracting, but as he followed the faint rabbit scent along the slope to where it dipped toward the Thunderpath, it grew stronger. His mouth began to water. He’d never caught rabbit here before. Rabbits rarely strayed this far from their burrows. Halfway down the slope, he paused. Unease pricked in his pelt.
Lifting his head, he tasted the air. There was more than one rabbit scent here. There were many. Had they dug new burrows on the slope? He scanned the grass, looking for tunnel openings, but it was smooth and unbroken. Why had so many rabbits passed this way? Deep in his belly, worry churned harder.
The Thunderpath ran along the bottom of the slope. Monsters hurtled past, their roars ringing through the stone-cold air. Talltail blocked out their stench and tried to focus on the scent of rabbit. He suddenly realized it was tinged with blood. He wasn’t smelling live prey; he was smelling fresh-kill! He padded farther down the slope, flattening his ears. His time in Twolegplace had taught him that the monsters were more noise than danger so long as he stayed clear of their path.
The blood stench sharpened as he drew closer. Perhaps rabbits were killed by monsters here. Talltail scanned the glittering, black stone of the Thunderpath. There was no sign of crow-food. Sniffing, he followed the blood scent along its edge. He slowed. He was nearing the tunnel that passed underneath the Thunderpath and joined WindClan territory to ShadowClan’s border, echoing with the howls of the monsters hurtling over it. He hadn’t been here in a long time. Dawnstripe had shown him the opening when he was an apprentice, but WindClan warriors rarely patrolled in this corner. There was little to hunt here, and ShadowClan scent markers didn’t begin until the other side of the Thunderpath.
Curiosity pulled Talltail on. The blood scent tainted the air, stronger as he neared. He scrambled down the ditch at the edge of the Thunderpath and pushed through the long grass choking the tunnel entrance. Blood streaked the stems, and as he slid into the dank, stinking tunnel, he saw more blood frozen into the muddy water pooled at the bottom. How many rabbits had been killed and dragged through here? Talltail swallowed. ShadowClan scents hung fresh in the air.
Pelt bushing, he turned and raced up the slope. Pushing hard against the rough grass, he pelted toward the heather. “Dawnstripe!” At his call, a grouse fluttered up from the bushes. He shouldered his way in, the stems scraping his muzzle as he raced along a rabbit trail.
“What in the name of StarClan are you doing?” Dawnstripe burst out of the heather and blocked his path.
Talltail skidded to a halt. “ShadowClan has been stealing prey and taking it through the tunnel!”
Dawnstripe’s pelt spiked. “Have you seen them?”
“I saw blood trails and ShadowClan scent was everywhere.”
Plumclaw stormed out behind Dawnstripe. “You scared off the grouse!” Her eyes blazed.
Aspenfall barged past her. “I was about to attack.”
Talltail squared his shoulders. “ShadowClan is using the tunnel under the Thunderpath to steal prey from the moor.” He glared at Aspenfall. “Go and tell Heatherstar. Bring warriors. We need to re-mark the border. They have to know that if they cross it again they face a fight.”
Aspenfall turned and pushed away through the heather.
“Come and see.” Talltail beckoned Dawnstripe to follow as he turned and headed back toward the tunnel.
He led her down the slope, Plumclaw close behind. “Ignore the monsters,” Talltail muttered as they neared the Thunderpath. “They’ll stick to their path.” He padded to the tunnel, pushing back the grass with a paw so that Dawnstripe could lean in and sniff the rabbit blood.
“It reeks of ShadowClan,” she growled, flinching away.
Plumclaw sniffed, frowning. “How long have they been doing this?”
Dawnstripe lashed her tail. “Quite a while, by the smell of it,” she hissed.