Warriors Super Edition: Yellowfang’s Secret (7 page)

Yellowkit’s heart began pounding harder. When Cedarstar beckoned to her, she padded across the clearing with as much dignity as she could muster.

StarClan, please don’t let me trip over a twig!

“Deerleap, you are a wise and experienced cat,” Cedarstar mewed. “I know that you will pass on your qualities to Yellowpaw.”

Yellowpaw spun around to face Deerleap. The gray tabby she-cat had stepped into the clearing, waiting for her. As she approached her mentor, Yellowpaw saw the friendly gleam in Deerleap’s eyes, and decided she was very satisfied with the choice that Cedarstar had made for her.

“I’ll do the best I can, I promise!” she mewed fervently as they touched noses.

Any reply was drowned in the cheers of the Clan as they greeted the new apprentices by their names. “Nutpaw! Yellowpaw! Rowanpaw!”

Yellowpaw saw Brightflower and Brackenfoot standing side by side, identical expressions of pride on their faces and in their shining eyes. She felt happy enough to burst.

“Okay,” Deerleap meowed to Yellowpaw when the noise had died down and the cats were beginning to drift away. “Why don’t we go out for our tour of the territory before it gets dark?”

“Great!” Every hair on Yellowpaw’s pelt bristled with excitement. “Let’s go!”

But as she followed Deerleap across the camp toward the brambles where Nutpaw and Rowanpaw were already vanishing with their mentors, she staggered as a sharp pain shot through her belly. She couldn’t suppress a yelp.

Deerleap turned around. “What’s the matter?”

Yellowpaw could hardly stay on her paws. The pain filled her body, darkening her vision. She had never felt anything so bad.

“Pain … it hurts …” she managed to gasp.

“You’d better see Sagewhisker,” Deerleap meowed.

“But … I want to see the … the territory,” Yellowpaw protested.

“The territory won’t go away.” Deerleap’s voice was determined. She laid her tail across her apprentice’s shoulders. “Come along.”

As she stumbled across the camp, Yellowpaw fought against her disappointment.
I want to start training
now.
I don’t have time to be sick
.

But when she reached the medicine cat’s den, there was no sign of her.

“You looking for Sagewhisker?” Toadskip was on his way to the fresh-kill pile. “I saw her go into the elders’ den.”

“Thanks, Toadskip.” Deerleap led the way toward the tree stump.

When they approached the den, Yellowpaw heard drawn-out moans, as if a cat was in agony. Yellowpaw’s pain had ebbed a little, but her fur felt strange and began prickling, harder and harder with every paw step she took. She was scared of what she might find in the elders’ den, and could hardly force herself to go in.

When she ducked underneath the outer branches of the den, she saw Silverflame stretched in her nest, her body twisted and her eyes glazed with pain. Sagewhisker was crouching over her, while Lizardfang and Littlebird huddled together at the far side, their faces full of fear and pity. The floor was strewn with different herbs, their sharp scents mingling with another sweetish smell that made Yellowpaw gag.

Silverflame is really sick!

“Yes—what is it?” Sagewhisker snapped, not shifting her gaze from the old she-cat.

“I had a pain … but it’s nothing,” Yellowpaw stammered.

“Okay.” Sagewhisker paused to chew up a mouthful of leaves. “See me tomorrow if it doesn’t clear up.”

“I will. Thanks.”

Unable to bear watching Silverflame any longer, Yellowpaw backed out of the den.

“Are you feeling okay now?” Deerleap asked, a tinge of impatience in her voice. “Because if you are, we can set off.”

Yellowpaw nodded, trying to ignore the nagging pain in her stomach; when she breathed in the scent of the herbs it had faded to a tolerable ache. “I’m fine,” she insisted.

Deerleap led the way through the brambles. Excitement surged over Yellowpaw as she followed, almost driving out her anxiety about Silverflame. Heartbeats later, she stood outside the camp for the first time. Pine trees stretched into the distance on every side.

“Wow!” she breathed. “The forest goes on forever!”

“Not quite,” Deerleap responded, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Come on. We’ll go this way.”

The ground between the trees was flat and almost clear of undergrowth. Yellowpaw spotted tracks crisscrossing it: the spiky claw marks of birds, cat paw prints from an earlier patrol, and larger prints, tipped with claws, that she had never seen before. She paused to sniff at them and picked up a trace of a rank smell that felt faintly threatening.

Deerleap had halted and was looking back. “Come on, Yellowpaw.”

“What’s this?” Yellowpaw mewed.

Deerleap gave the tracks a swift glance. “Fox,” she stated.

Yellowpaw shivered and glanced around, half expecting to spot a slim russet shape slinking among the trees. She had never seen a fox, but she had heard plenty of stories about them.

“It’s okay,” Deerleap told her. “That scent is stale. But we need to keep a lookout whenever we’re outside the camp.”

Yellowpaw flexed her claws, wondering what it would be like to fight a fox. Movement among the trees caught her eye, but no fox appeared. Instead, it was a ShadowClan hunting patrol. Cedarstar was leading the way back to camp, with Archeye and Featherstorm, all of them carrying prey. Deerleap called a greeting, and the Clan leader waved his tail in acknowledgment.

A short while later the pine trees thinned out, replaced by bushes mounded with snow and reeds whose feathery tops rattled together in the breeze. The flat ground became uneven, with hidden hollows filled with snow. Yellowpaw let out a squeak as she slid down a dip and sank deep into the powdery white stuff.
Deerleap is going to think I’m a stupid kit!

But Deerleap just waited until Yellowpaw struggled out, and didn’t make any comment. “When the weather is warmer, the ground here is marshy and wet,” she meowed. “It’s a good place for catching frogs.”

Yellowpaw nodded.
Silverflame used to enjoy frogs,
she thought, remembering how the elder hadn’t been eating properly for ages. She realized that Deerleap had asked her a question and had paused, waiting for an answer.

“Sorry,” Yellowpaw muttered. “What was that?”

Deerleap sighed. “I asked what you thought would be the best way to catch a frog.”

“I … um …” Yellowpaw thought fast. “Hide in the reeds and jump out at it?” she suggested.

Her mentor twitched her whiskers. “That might work. But remember frogs can swim too. It’s best to find one on land. Two cats can hunt better than one: one to cut the frog off from the pool it came out of, and one to catch it. We’ll practice with the other apprentices when newleaf comes.”

“Great!” Yellowpaw responded, though her thoughts of Silverflame moaning in agony dampened her enthusiasm.

They came to the edge of the marsh and padded through another belt of pine trees. The trees grew more sparsely here, and reddish, hard-edged shapes loomed beyond the last of them, as tall as the highest trunks.

“We’re coming to the edge of ShadowClan territory,” Deerleap mewed. “Can you smell our scent markers?”

Yellowpaw sniffed and nodded. She felt proud that the ShadowClan scent was so strong.
That warns other Clans not to mess with us!

“Over in that direction,” Deerleap went on, angling her ears toward the ominous shapes, “is Twolegplace. We don’t go there. It’s a place for dogs and kittypets, not warriors. Those are the dens where Twolegs live.”

Yellowpaw gazed at the unnaturally straight walls with square holes dotted across their sides, some high up and some closer to the ground. Low wooden barriers surrounded each den, rather like the thorns that surrounded ShadowClan’s camp. As Yellowpaw watched, a kittypet appeared, balancing carefully on the top of the wooden wall before jumping down to the other side.

“That cat was wearing something around its neck,” she observed.

Deerleap nodded. “A collar. Most kittypets have them. It signifies that they belong to Twolegs, and can never be free. Just be thankful you’ll never have to wear one.”

Yellowpaw watched for a little longer, but the kittypet didn’t reappear. She wondered what it would be like to live in the Twolegplace. It looked cold and hard and empty, and she was glad when Deerleap moved on again, through another belt of woodland where pines were mixed with other trees. The bare branches creaked over Yellowpaw’s head.

Yellowpaw soon became aware of an acrid stench in the air, and a dull roaring that grew and died away again. “Is that
thunder
?” she mewed.

“You’ll see what it is in a few heartbeats,” Deerleap told her.

When Yellowpaw came to the edge of the trees she stumbled to a halt. In front of her lay a narrow stretch of ground that led away in both directions as far as she could see. The snow that lay upon it had been churned up in straight lines, leaving dirty brown ridges. Underneath, Yellowpaw could make out a hard, black surface. The acrid stench rose from it in waves, smothering all the other scents of the forest.

“What’s
that
?” Yellowpaw gasped. She stretched out a paw to touch the surface.

Immediately Deerleap flicked her tail in front of Yellowpaw. “Keep back,” she warned.

At the same moment the weird roaring sound began again. Yellowpaw tensed as a small creature appeared at the far end of the path; it grew bigger as the roaring grew louder. Soon she could make it out more clearly: It was an unnatural glittering scarlet, and it had round black paws that seemed to eat up the ground. Heartbeats later it swept past, spattering Yellowpaw with dirty, half-melted snow. For a moment its bellowing and vile reek filled the air; then it was gone, dwindling into the distance as the sound died away.

“It didn’t spot us!” Yellowpaw mewed in relief.

“Mostly they don’t,” Deerleap responded. “They keep to the Thunderpath, and don’t bother us provided we stay away from it. But cats have died trying to cross, so don’t even think about it.”

“
That’s
the Thunderpath?” Yellowpaw asked. “Then that must have been a monster! Brackenfoot told us about them when we were in the nursery. He said the monsters have Twolegs in their bellies, but I thought that was just a tale for kits.”

“No, it’s true,” Deerleap meowed.

“Those things
eat
Twolegs?”

“Not exactly.” Deerleap sounded puzzled. “The Twolegs get out of them again, and they seem okay. I don’t know what it’s all about, but then, Twolegs are strange.”

The stink of the monster was dying away, and as she tasted the air Yellowpaw could pick up another scent she didn’t recognize. It was the scent of cats, but harsher than the warm, comforting ShadowClan scent she was used to.

“What’s that yucky smell?”

“That’s ThunderClan,” Deerleap explained, waving her tail toward the trees on the other side of the Thunderpath. “Their territory is over there.”

“Really?” The scent marks seemed so close; Yellowpaw imagined a patrol of hostile ThunderClan cats charging across the Thunderpath, invading her territory. Her neck fur started to bristle and she dug her claws into the ground.

They’d better not try it!

But there was no movement among the trees on the opposite side of the Thunderpath, nothing to suggest an enemy patrol was lurking there. Feeling slightly disappointed, Yellowpaw turned away.

“Where do we go next?”

“Follow me.” Deerleap led the way alongside the Thunderpath and stopped at a point where the ground fell away into a deep cleft that became a tunnel leading into darkness. The sides were lined with squared-off stones.

“Did Twolegs make that?” Yellowpaw mewed.

“They did.” Deerleap sounded pleased and a little surprised that Yellowpaw had guessed right. “Don’t ask me why. It leads under the Thunderpath and up on the other side.”

“Into ThunderClan territory? They could come right through it and attack us!”

“No, it’s still our territory on the other side, all the way to the hollow at Fourtrees. It’s the way we go for Gatherings.”

Yellowpaw’s paws tingled.
Now that I’m an apprentice, I’ll get to go to Gatherings!
When she was three moons old, she had begged and begged to go to a Gathering. Silverflame had promised to tell her everything that happened, and the day after, she had kept her promise.

She made it sound so exciting … I hope she’ll be better by the next full moon, so we can go together
.

She was dragged abruptly out of her memories as Deerleap flicked her on the shoulder with her tail-tip. “Wake up!” her mentor chided. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”

They walked on, sticking close to the Thunderpath with the Twoleg dens fading into the trees behind them. “Over there,” Deerleap continued, “is another tunnel. That one leads straight into WindClan territory. What do you think that means?”

“Trouble!” Yellowpaw exclaimed.

“Right. So what should we do about it?”

“Patrol really carefully?” Yellowpaw suggested. “And … er … put really strong scent markers around our end?”