Yellowfang headed for a high fence made of interwoven strips of wood. Twoleg dens lay on the other side of it. She crept along the bottom of the barrier, jaws parted, then halted as she picked up the mingled scent of two or three kittypets. They matched up exactly with the scents on the half-eaten squirrel. “I’ve found it!” she called out.
Hollyflower came bounding up with the other warriors behind her, and sniffed at the place Yellowfang indicated. “Not much doubt about that,” she murmured, with a look of distaste. “Toadskip, climb the fence and see what’s on the other side.”
The tabby tom leaped upward, digging his claws into the wood until he had scrambled to the top. For a couple of heartbeats he gazed down on the other side, then turned back with a shrug. “Nothing,” he reported. “Just Twoleg grass and plants. No sign of any cats.”
“That’s because they only come out at night,” Yellowfang meowed.
Her Clanmates gazed at her with surprise.
“How do you know that?” Newtspeck prompted.
“Oh… uh… one of the elders told me,” Yellowfang mumbled. To her relief, no cat questioned her further.
“So what do we do now?” Toadskip asked, hopping down onto the grass beside the others.
Hollyflower thought for a moment. “Toadskip, you and Newtspeck had better bury that squirrel,” she ordered. “And then finish the patrol. Yellowfang, you come back to camp with me. Cedarstar will want to know about this.”
Moonlight shone down into the camp as the warriors of ShadowClan gathered in the clearing. Cedarstar had been as outraged as Yellowfang had expected when Hollyflower reported that kittypets had been killing prey on ShadowClan territory.
“I’ll lead two patrols out there tonight,” he had decided. “We’ll show those kittypets that they don’t mess with ShadowClan.”
Yellowfang’s paws tingled as she followed her Clan leader through the brambles. She felt proud that Cedarstar had chosen her for one of the patrols, but at the same time her belly was churning with nervousness.
What if one of the kittypets recognizes me?
Waiting for her turn to pass through the entrance, she tried to catch Raggedpelt’s eye. She knew he must be feeling just as nervous.
What if it was Hal who killed the squirrel?
But Raggedpelt wouldn’t look at her, deliberately turning his back and talking to Nutwhisker.
Yellowfang jumped as she felt a prod in her side. “Come on, move your paws,” Scorchwind hissed. “Are you waiting for daylight?”
Yellowfang realized that she was blocking the gap. “Sorry,” she muttered, plunging into the thorns and trying to put Raggedpelt out of her mind.
A cold breeze whispered through the pine needles as the warriors plunged into the trees. Black shadows shifted over the ground from the movement of the branches, and silver flakes of moonlight dappled the cats’ fur. With Yellowfang in Cedarstar’s patrol were Rowanberry, Deerleap, and Raggedpelt. Just behind them Stonetooth led the second patroclass="underline" Scorchwind, Nutwhisker, Newtspeck, and Crowtail.
When the harsh lights of the Twolegplace appeared through the trees, Cedarstar halted. All the warriors gathered around him and he spoke in a low voice. “The two patrols will split up and watch for the kittypets from opposite sides,” he mewed. “All of you take cover, and don’t move until I give the signal. Maybe we can finish this without a fight.”
“What signal?” Stonetooth asked.
“I’ll kink my tail like this,” Cedarstar replied, demonstrating. He dug his claws into the ground. “You are ShadowClan warriors and I trust you. Once the fighting starts, make sure that those kittypets don’t know what hit them.”
Stonetooth gave a curt nod and led his patrol away. Cedarstar took his cats in the opposite direction, toward the fence where Yellowfang had scented the intruders. There wasn’t much undergrowth beneath the pine trees, but they found shelter behind the brambles where Newtspeck had discovered the squirrel.
Yellowfang crouched among the thorns with Deerleap on one side of her and Raggedpelt on the other, their pelts brushing. Yellowfang was acutely aware of him, embarrassed to be so close when he refused to be her friend anymore. “Won’t the kittypets scent so many of us?” she whispered. “If they know we’re here, they won’t come out.”
Deerleap gave a disdainful sniff. “Most kittypets couldn’t scent a fox if it was right in front of them.”
Yellowfang gave a small mrrow of amusement. “I guess they never had a mentor to tell them to look, listen, and scent.”
“Quiet there!” Cedarstar’s low voice came from somewhere close by.
Tucking her paws underneath her, Yellowfang settled down. As she gazed along the Twoleg fence she spotted small movements among the grass that told her where Stonetooth’s patrol was hiding. There was no sign of any kittypets, and the only scents Yellowfang could pick up when she tasted the air were faint and stale.
The night dragged on and nothing happened. Yellowfang grew cold and cramped; she longed to get up and stretch her legs, but she knew how angry Cedarstar would be if she so much as twitched a whisker. Cold was gripping her pelt by the time she heard Cedarstar hiss, “Look! Up there!”
Squinting through the brambles, Yellowfang spotted two cats slinking over the fence from the Twolegplace. For a moment they stood outlined against the sky. A heartbeat later they leaped down to the ground and she was able to see them more clearly. The scrawny she-cat with the untidy russet pelt was horribly familiar.
Red!
Yellowfang’s belly lurched with dismay. The last thing she wanted was for her Clanmates to find out about the night she and Raggedpelt had visited the Twolegplace. Will Red say anything? she wondered.
As the two kittypets hesitated beside the fence, Cedarstar leaped out of the shelter of the brambles and strode toward them. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “The forest is our place. Go back to your Twolegs.”
Red faced the ShadowClan leader without a trace of fear. Yellowfang had to admire her courage as the kittypet glared at Cedarstar, who was much bigger than she was, his muscles rippling beneath his pelt.
“You can’t stop us from coming here!” Red declared. “We don’t live by your rules.”
“We can make you stop if we want to,” Cedarstar retorted.
The second cat, an older tabby tom who Yellowfang didn’t recognize, took a pace forward to stand at Red’s shoulder. “I’d like to see you try,” he hissed. “You wild cats think you’re so great! Lay one claw on us and I’ll wipe that smug look off your face.”
Cedarstar didn’t respond in words. Instead he raised his tail and kinked it in the signal for battle. Instantly the rest of the warriors rose out of the shadows with angry yowls. They surrounded the kittypets, a barrier of furious cats with teeth bared and claws at the ready. Raggedpelt and Nutwhisker stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their lips drawn back in snarls of defiance. Rowanberry was flexing her claws as if she couldn’t wait to sink them into a kittypet.
Yellowfang saw a look of sheer astonishment cross the faces of Red and the tabby. But neither of them turned to flee. The tabby tom let out a screech and three more cats jumped over the fence and landed on the ground beside the kittypets. Yellowfang winced as she recognized the skinny gray tom.
Boulder’s here now! This just gets worse and worse…
Cedarstar launched himself at Red, and the rest of the warriors leaped into battle behind their leader. Yellowfang hung back, reluctant to tangle with a cat who might recognize her. She watched at the edge of the battle as Red shoved Cedarstar off balance, sending him stumbling against a tree stump. The Clan leader gathered himself and leaped at Red again; the russet she-cat sprang away, only to trip over a tangle of tree roots and fall on one side. Cedarstar gave her a swipe over her haunches before spinning around and hurling himself back into the thick of the fight.