A musty, damp scent flowed out of the opening.
“What are you doing?” Alderpaw demanded as he trailed after Needlepaw. “That looks dangerous.”
Needlepaw turned back to him, rolling her eyes. “Have you got bees in your brain, or what? Look, we came over the Thunderpath, and now here’s a ‘different path’ that leads under it. Plus it’s all in shadow! We can go this way!”
“You’re the one with bees in your brain!”
Alderpaw retorted. “I doubt StarClan just wanted us to go through a tunnel! It’s dark in there, and it smells weird. There could be anything lurking inside. And I can see water in the bottom of it.”
But there was no point in arguing.
Needlepaw was already wriggling through the bars. “You never listen to me!” Alderpaw groaned, but the she-cat took no notice.
Alderpaw sighed, glancing from the Thunderpath to the tunnel and back again. The Thunderpath wasn’t as crowded with monsters as when they had crossed it before. He could ignore Needlepaw, head over the Thunderpath, and let her fend for herself. After all, she’s not a part of my Clan. She’s not even supposed to be on this quest. But even while the arguments passed through his head, he knew there was no point to them. He was following Needlepaw into the tunnel.
The stench caught him in the throat as he squeezed through the bars, and it was hard to stop himself from retching. Alderpaw picked his way carefully through the water, then realized that there was a higher area to one side, where he could scramble up and keep his paws dry.
The tunnel was full of shadows, but once
Alderpaw’s eyes adjusted to it, he realized there was a little light filtering in from the entrance behind him, and the glow of the gap on the other side. He could see Needlepaw’s figure, dark against the distant outlet, bounding along ahead of him.
“I wonder where Sandstorm would want us to go next,” she meowed, her voice echoing strangely in the tunnel. “What’s most different?
Maybe we shouldn’t even head back the way we came anymore. What if we went in another direction?” she continued, halting and half turning back toward Alderpaw. “We could loop all the way around Clan territory and come in through ShadowClan. Or maybe head the other way around the lake, through RiverClan. I’ve only been on RiverClan territory once,” she added reflectively, “and they caught me and sent me home with a scolding.”
Alderpaw shook his head. “You’re mouse-brained!” he responded.
Needlepaw turned to go on, and Alderpaw was about to follow, when he heard a soft cry coming from farther into the darkness, right against the wall of the tunnel. He froze, his ears pricked, and when the cry came again, he carefully padded toward it.
In the dim light Alderpaw could just make out a nest of moss and dry leaves, with something squirming inside it. At first he pulled back sharply; then he leaned forward again with a gasp of shock as his nose picked up the familiar milky scent of kits. A tiny black-and-white kit was lying in the nest, with a tiny gray one beside it, their colors hardly visible in the darkness.
The kits seemed to sense Alderpaw’s presence, and they craned toward him, their eyes tight shut, their pink mouths open to let out high-pitched mews.
“What’s the matter?” Needlepaw was bounding back down the tunnel toward Alderpaw. “Why are you—” She skidded to a halt as she spotted the nest.
“They’re—” Alderpaw began.
“They’re kits!” Needlepaw shook her head in disbelief. “Where’s their mother?” she asked, glancing around. “Their eyes aren’t even open yet. They can only be a few days old.”
“And they’re so thin,” Alderpaw added. “I can tell they haven’t eaten in a while.”
“I’ll go and look for their mother.”
Needlepaw bounded to the other end of the tunnel and wriggled out through the bars.
Alderpaw could hear her calling outside.
Alderpaw stooped over the nest and examined the kits more closely. Both of them were she-kits, and under their fur they seemed to be just skin and bone.
“Hey, Needlepaw!” he yowled. “Forget their mother for now. These kits need to eat. Catch something, right away!”
“Okay!” Needlepaw yowled back. A few heartbeats later she slid through the bars again and bounded along the tunnel again to join Alderpaw. She was gripping a fat vole in her jaws.
“That was quick!” Alderpaw mewed admiringly. “Now we chew up the meat and feed it to the kits.”
When they had chewed some of the fresh-kill into a pulp, Alderpaw gently opened the gray kit’s mouth and dropped the pulp in. The kit choked, spitting the meat out again.
“Oh, mouse dung!” Needlepaw sighed.
“They’re not used to eating this stuff yet. They need milk.”
“Well, unless you have any, we have to keep trying with the vole,” Alderpaw meowed determinedly.
He dropped more pulp into the kit’s mouth, then massaged her throat so that she would swallow. The kit began choking again, but after a moment the chewed-up vole disappeared, and she began wailing for more.
“Thank StarClan!” Alderpaw exclaimed.
Needlepaw began to feed the black-and-white kit, and soon both tiny creatures were sucking eagerly at the pulp, desperate to fill their bellies.
“They would have starved without us,” Needlepaw murmured, sounding unusually gentle as she blinked affectionately at her kit.
Unexpected warmth spread through Alderpaw. I might have failed in my quest, but at least we saved these kits.
“Now we need to get them warm,” he mewed, when finally the kits stopped eating, their little bellies distended. They were already cuddling up to him and Needlepaw, drawn by the heat of their bodies. “Ow!” Alderpaw yelped as the gray kit batted him on the nose. “Your claws are sharp!”
He began to lick the gray kit, his tongue stroking backward from tail to head, to get her blood flowing. Needlepaw did the same for the black-and-white kit. Soon both kits were purring and sinking into sleep.
“It’s a good thing we found them when we did,” Alderpaw told Needlepaw. “I don’t think they would have survived out here much longer.”
Needlepaw murmured agreement. “I wonder what happened to their mother. Do you think a monster got her on the Thunderpath?”
Alderpaw shuddered at the idea. “I’m not sure. But I think we should bring these kits back to camp, where they can be cared for.”
“Great idea,” Needlepaw meowed. “And I think we should give them names. How about Violetkit for this little one?” she continued, stroking the black-and-white kit’s head with the tip of her tail. “I’m picking up the scent of violets; I think their mother must have used some of the leaves for the nest.”
“That’s a good name,” Alderpaw purred.
“And I’m going to call this little one…
Twigkit. She’s as tiny as a twig!”
Needlepaw let out a mrrow of laughter.
“Twigkit it is!”
As they rose, preparing to pick up the sleeping kits by their scruff, Needlepaw turned to Alderpaw with a smirk on her face. “When are you going to thank me for leading you into the tunnel?” she asked.
Alderpaw, still concentrating on the kits, gave her a confused stare. “What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Needlepaw looked even more smug. “These kits are what you find in the shadows!”
Chapter 23
Alderpaw stood on the ridge, a stiff breeze ruffling his fur, and looked down the slope to where the lake lay glittering in the morning sunshine. He was gripping Twigkit’s scruff in his mouth; the tiny kit was waving her paws around and letting out high-pitched squeaks.