The Secret Clan - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Beetlepaw was already awake and bouncing around the camp with his littermates before Hailcloud could pry open an eye. She awoke to the lithe brown tom scrambling over her in anticipation. His brother Tweetpaw flicked her nose with his paw playfully.

“I swear, I will pull of your tails if you do not get off me,” she growled. Tweetpaw sped off, wailing incessantly. Beetlepaw crouched at his mentor’s paws, watching her with staring, grey eyes.

“Can we do battle training, Hailcloud?” the apprentice whispered.

“Sure. And then we can go fight a pack of foxes.” Hailcloud murmured, eyes still closed.

“Really?” he squeaked, his eyes wide. Hailcloud grumbled a ‘no’ and got to her paws, long tail swishing against the ground.

Beetlepaw weaved his way enthusiastically around her paws until she padded outside into the blaring sun. Hailcloud tasted the air, drinking in the scents of her clanmates, of the river, and of prey.

“A fine day for hunting,” she commented, squinting at her surroundings.

“But I want to fight!” Beetlepaw whined. “Mistpaw said that Cricketsong is taking her for battle training! And Tweetpaw is going to patrol around the territory. And you tell me we’re hunting? I don’t want to catch lazy old squirrels…” he moaned.

Hailcloud whipped around, snarling.

“Is that any way to talk to your mentor? Who do you think has more experience, me or you? Life’s not all mice and moonlight, you cheeky kit!”

Beetlepaw scuffed his paws on the ground and muttered to himself. Hailcloud rolled her eyes and bent down to his ear.

“If you catch anything today, then I’ll teach you some basic moves,” she breathed. Beetlepaw gave a little skip, and strutted, high-tailed, out of the reed barrier of the camp.

“Now Beetlepaw,” Hailcloud whispered. “You see that mouse? It hasn’t noticed us. Why do you think that?”

“Because we’re downwind of it,” Beetlepaw mewed triumphantly. Hailcloud had made him repeat it until it was burned into his memory.

“Tail straight, paws light, like I taught you.”

Beetlepaw did exactly that, treading on broken down reeds. He stealthily approached the plump mouse, which was too busy nibbling a morsel of corn. As quick as a flash, he leaped, and the mouse barely had enough time to be startled. With a quick nip, it went limp in Beetlepaw’s jaws.

“Fabulous catch!” Hailcloud purred. Beetlepaw was a model student, copying exactly what Hailcloud instructed him. She could see that the brown apprentice would become a fine hunter. But she was nagged by the thought that Beetlepaw was only performing so well so that he could do battle training.

Hailcloud’s suspicions were proved right when Beetlepaw gave an excited twitch. “Battle training!” his eyes shone. “You promised that if I caught something, you’d teach me some basic moves!” Hailcloud cursed silently. The long-haired warrior’s expertise was hunting, and she wasn’t the best at fighting, as her denmates knew well. But Beetlepaw didn’t know that, and he ought to learn from the best.

“I did promise,” she groaned. Beetlepaw’s eyes sparkled with hope. “And maybe Mistpaw and Starlingflight have finished their patrol by now. Would you like to practice with them?” Beetlepaw was high-wired like a hive. He abandoned his mouse without thinking and attacked the nearest reed strand.

Kits! Hailcloud shook her head and purred.

Hailcloud and Starlingflight perched at the edge of the Hawkground. It was a dusty, circular plain which was perfect for battle training. Only the most hardy plants grew there, like gorse and some stray grass. It earned the name Hawkground when a warrior caught and killed a hawk trying to snatch an apprentice. The warrior was also granted the name Hawkcatcher. It is now the place of all battle training, since the prey runs poorly there.

Mistpaw waggled her stumpy tail, teal eyes glinting from the early morning sun.

“Mistpaw,” Starlingflight flicked her tail at the grey apprentice. “I want you to jump on top of Beetlepaw; try to land on his back.”

“I’m going to squish you like the beetle you are!” Mistpaw taunted her brother.

“Don’t moan, Beetlepaw, it’ll be your turn next,” Hailcloud hissed, seeing her apprentice begin to fidget and shrink away.

Mistpaw wiggled her haunches once more, than darted forward and sprung. She looked like a raincloud with her grey pelt waving in the air. With a playful growl, she landed on her brother’s back, leaving Beetlepaw splayed on the ground, panting. Starlingflight purred with pride. “Excellent,” she mewed. Hailcloud couldn’t help feeling a pang of empathy for her apprentice. She didn’t think he was having much fun being shadowed by his sister.

“Are you alright, Beetlepaw?” Mistpaw giggled. The brown apprentice shot up, neck fur bristling with embarrassment. He shot a look at Hailcloud, and she nodded enthusiastically. Beetlepaw sat up and went into a pouncing crouch that funnily resembled the hunters crouch. A hunter through and through, Hailcloud thought happily. She noticed that the three cats were waiting for her instruction.

“Oh, er, right. Beetlepaw, I want you to land on Mistpaw’s shoulders. Then, give a quick swipe over the ears and leap off. If that’s okay with you, Starlingflight. I think Beetlepaw should try a different approach.” Hailcloud mewed contemptuously. The silver she-cat had never liked Starlingflight’s attitude. She was too expecting of others – thinking that they would willingly oblige to whatever she asked of. Hailcloud guessed it was because of her father. Not that his murderous ways had rubbed off on her, but because no-one dared to speak wrong of her. She was physically untouchable. If someone said ‘no’ to her, she would whimper and claim it was because of her father. Starlingflight just flicked her tail and narrowed her eyes. “Perfectly fine with me,” she meowed.

Beetlepaw careered forward, sprung up and landed squarely on Mistpaw’s shoulders, rendering her defenceless. He aimed a misguided cuff around the ears, but loss balance and toppled back, landing with a squeal on top of Mistpaw’s tail. She too squeaked and sprinted forward.

“Beetle-brain!” Mistpaw wailed, still trying to jibe her brother. She bent down and licked her tail furiously, trying to eradicate imaginary blood. Beetlepaw sniffed dismissively.

“Fighting is stupid,” he growled. “Hunting is much better.” Beetlepaw stared meaningfully at Hailcloud. He seemed to be saying, Please, let me go! Hailcloud scuffed her paws subtly and looked around. One fail didn’t mean all was lost! Beetlepaw could keep trying…. But seeing the faces of Mistpaw and Starlingflight, she doubted her apprentice would survive their painful glares. Starlingflight sat licking her paw, eyes burning into Hailcloud. Mistpaw was sticking her chin out, a challenge. Hailcloud herself doubted she could!

“I scent water vole. I… I think I might try a new hunting technique with Beetlepaw. We’ll come back to battle training later.” Her last statement seemed more a question to Beetlepaw. He nodded tensely, glancing at Mistpaw with longing. Hailcloud skirted Beetlepaw and stood proudly in front of him with her tail on his shoulder.

“Let’s go.” She mewed gently.

---

Keapaw stretched, feeling the icy breath of morning seep through his pelt. Leafbare was fully frontal and affecting prey on a large scale. A memory suddenly stabbed his heart like a thorn. Last night, he had hurt Tulipaw. Keapaw knew that the white apprentice had feelings for him, and that if he kept their friendship at the level it was now, when Tulipaw became a warrior they would only grow closer. Warriors could take mates. Keapaw shivered, from the cold and the situation he was in. Tulipaw was a nice friend, but nothing more than that. And with Hollypaw… Keapaw felt himself growing warmer.

Dewfrost poked her head in the den. When her eyes settled on him she looked surprised. “Hi Keapaw,” she meowed. “I was just wondering where Hollypaw was?” The tortoiseshell apprentice’s mind sharpened. Where was she? Hollypaw, with the beautiful tabby and white fur; with the honeycomb yellow eyes. The way her nose twitches when she’s thinking. Keapaw realised with a start that Dewfrost was waiting for an answer with narrowed eyes. “Keapaw?” she mewed.

“Oh, er, yes. I think she’s in the elder’s den.” He stuttered. Dewfrost nodded slowly and raced off to the elder’s den. Keapaw tucked his paws under him. It wasn’t often that he was allowed to stay in his den this late. All that was left of the other five apprentices was tufts of fur and stale scents. Where was Lightfoot? Keapaw stood and arched his back, getting ready to go out into the open. He trotted out into the cloudy mid-morning. Volewhisker and Riverfur were talking in hushed voices and eating a pink fish. Yarrowleaf and Cricketsong were sharing tongues. Keapaw enjoyed Yarrowleaf’s dry humour and appreciated her kindness, but her mate, Cricketsong, was distant and slick. He blinked kindly at them and Yarrowleaf purred across the small splitting stream. Cricketsong flicked his ear. A lithe cream shape emerged from the nursery and blinked at Keapaw. It was Cuckoonose. She loped over to the tortoiseshell apprentice and purred slightly. “Ah, Keapaw,” she flicked her tail over his ear. “I was looking for you. Lightfoot is on the dawn patrol so she asked me to take you hunting. With me you might actually learn something new!” she mewed excitedly. Keapaw looked away, embarrassed. He knew Cuckoonose didn’t like Lightfoot, or her two sisters Hailcloud and Dewfrost. Cuckoonose was a vain cat. She did not perform particularly well as an apprentice, and now, does not care much for hunting or fighting. She usually lounges around camp and takes pleasure in joining Duskflower for hissing at the trio of kin. Keapaw just swallowed and nodded, casting longing glances at the disappearing figure of Dewfrost and Hollypaw. Cuckoonose narrowed her piercing eyes at Keapaw, before flicking her long tail and trotting off in the direction of the camp entrance. Keapaw reluctantly followed.

Cuckoonose sat, docile, in a small grassy spot between the long grasses. “What can you smell?” she asked. Keapaw cocked his head to the side. “Usually Lightfoot scents something and sends me after it.”

“Lightfoot isn’t here,” she growled. “Now tell me what you smell.” She repeated. Keapaw drew in a deep breath, released it, and tasted the air. A buffeting wave of smells hit him. Corn, water, cats, sweetgrass, dead fish, and a particularly appetising smell.

“Thrush!” Keapaw whispered. It was downwind of him, about six fox-lengths away, pecking at a worm. “What tactic do you want me to take?” Keapaw waved his tail enthusiastically, momentarily ignoring the chilling wind. The question caught Cuckoonose off guard. “Oh,” she started. “Stalking it and going for the… the neck, that’s it.” She said with utmost certainty. This she-cat has little more sense than a new apprentice, Keapaw thought with a roll of the eyes. Keapaw wiggled down onto the ground and began to stalk, his dark pelt hidden by the strands of gold tussock. The thrush was in sight now, still not noticing the approaching apprentice. The mottled bird suddenly paused, frozen. It took one look at Keapaw and tried to take off, but the tortoiseshell apprentice launched himself at the fleeing bird and ripped it from the air, delivering the death bite ‘to the neck’, as Cuckoonose requested. Keapaw resisted the urge to gulp it down right then and there, because he wanted to show Cuckoonose his catch. Trotting, high-pawed back to where the cream she-cat was, he dropped the thrush at her paws.

“Good job, ‘paw.” She purred. Keapaw felt dry at the empty praise. “But, you made a mistake in making the bird fly away. It was a messy catch – I could see it from here. Let me show you how you’re supposed to do it.” Cuckoonose scoffed. Despite the freezing winds, Keapaw was steaming in his paws. This warrior was neither intelligent nor talented. Keapaw was puzzled by why his mentor, Lightfoot, would leave him in the inexperienced hands of her enemy. Cuckoonose trotted off in direction of a mouse, every paw-step the sound of lightning striking a tree. The mouse was gone before the cream warrior could notice.

“Well,” she started with a gusty breath. “Here’s a lesson Lightfoot can’t teach you: you can’t catch every little piece of prey. You’re not StarClan,” she snorted.

“Back to camp,” she said simply, flicking Keapaw’s chin with her tail. Dragging the juicy thrush back to camp, Keapaw was happy that he had at least caught something, and that Cuckoonose’s obvious stupidity hadn’t scared away every piece of prey in the meadow.

Tuifeather was having a midday sleep. After a particularly exhausting ordeal of removing a thorn from Cloverkit’s paw, Tuifeather thought she deserved a rest. Her sleep had been disturbed many a time with unanswered questions. Tuifeather curled up, tail over her nose, and began to dream.

Tuifeather was running. Faster than Sunlight, the fastest cat in the Clan; faster than a hare. She was in a forest. It wasn’t like the humid forest around the meadow. It was lush and green, alive with prey. Tuifeather knew she couldn’t catch anything in this dream. She needed to catch something else.

Five fox-lengths ahead of her ran the grey tom. No matter how faster Tuifeather ran, he always stayed ahead with his loping stride. Eventually, she stopped, breathing painful. Crouched on the forest floor, she looked up at the tom. He had stopped, and his liquid blue eyes seemed to reach into her. She knew that he knew all her secrets, could see through her, into her heart. She drew enough breath to speak. “Who are you?” she shrieked. She had not known for too long – now was the time to finally find out who this cat that plagued her mind was. The mysterious tom blinked.

“You’re in danger.” He said monotonously, eyes staring. Tuifeather let go of the phenomenon that this cat had talked to her and pressed on. “Why are you here?” she meowed desperately.

“You will run. You will find me, but you will lose yourself along the way.”

The Secret Clan - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Greetings, Fallenstar.” Vinepaw mewed hesitantly. Duskflower and Tuifeather stood expectantly behind her, peering in at the crouched shape of the faded tortoiseshell leader. He twisted his head around and narrowed his eyes at the three she-cats.

“Oh…yes, yes come in.” Fallenstar seemed to have forgotten he had invited them. Duskflower rather brusquely shoved her way to the front of the cave entrance. “Fallenstar, we would like to talk to you about today’s mission.” The grey deputy waved her tail in gesture, and Tuifeather and Vinepaw sat down on the cave floor.

“Go ahead, Duskflower.” Fallenstar mewed tersely.

Vinepaw listened half-heartedly as Duskflower recounted the trip down to the blockage, the encounter with the rubbish heap and the fire. The tabby apprentice sighed quietly and zoned out, gazing across the camp. He rain looked like a cat was shaking it’s whiskers in front of the cave. The reeds shushed the camp, filling the night with its whispering. Vinepaw shuddered, fluffing up her fur to the passing wind. The medicine cat apprentice tried to shove the prophecy to the back of her mind, but it was resilient, fluttering past her vision like a persistent butterfly. She didn’t want to think of what the ominous words meant. The look Tuifeather had…she thought she could see the whole of StarClan in her mentor’s eyes. What if that meant –

“Vinepaw!” A sharp prod in her ribs roused Vinepaw. Duskflower and Tuifeather were watching her. The startled she-cat glanced at Tuifeather, whose eyes held nothing of their past fright, but a particularly annoyed stare.

“Fallenstar asked you a question,” Duskflower hissed.

“How do you interpret this, Vinepaw?” Fallenstar growled impatiently. Vinepaw thought for a moment.

“Fallenstar, I can fully assure you, this is not a positive sign. Darkness, in prophecies, sometimes signifies a rogue, or a badger or fox. Something that lives and breathes, and has a want to hurt the Clan. But this…this darkness is not our friend, nor is it our enemy. It…it just is.” Vinepaw mewed ruefully. She knew her explanation was less than self-explanatory, and she wanted to make herself sound wise to Fallenstar. Thankfully, Tuifeather caught Vinepaw with the corner of her eye and intercepted.

“Earlier today, before the prophecy came, Keapaw took a drink from the river up that side of the meadow. He nearly choked on it. There was a black liquid in the river. Keapaw took a drink from the river, and the poor kit nearly choked. I think the black liquid from the container is tainting our water supply.” Tuifeather finished hesitantly. Fallenstar did not reply immediately. He tensed, gazing at his paws. His vision seemed to focus, then blur, and then repeat again. Still not looking at the MeadowClan warriors, he mewed, “So, our water is not pure? We... we cannot drink it?” The three cats shook their heads in unison. Fallenstar got to his paws.

“Outrage!” he growled, lashing his tail. Before Vinepaw could speak, he continued sharply.

“StarClan! It’s all StarClan! They are trying to destroy us, to crush our strength! Crowstar, yes, Crowstar is behind it all! He never wanted me to be leader, no, and now he resents me! But I will show him. I will show him that he cannot out-fox me. That he cannot out-fox MeadowClan!” His snap progressed into an insane yowl, filling the whole camp with its disillusion of StarClan. Fallenstar’s eyes flickered with grey flames.

“Fallenstar?” Vinepaw dared to ask. The tortoiseshell leader’s eyes turned to their usual soot colour. His lips quivered, as if he couldn’t quite remember what he’d just done. He looked down and narrowed his eyes.

“Thank you. You…you may all go.” He whispered.

All Fallenstar could see were the tips of tails when he looked back up.

Vinepaw breathed deeply. Without bodies to warm it, the medicine cat den was ice-cold, and Vinepaw could see her breath coming in cloudy billows. Tuifeather was muttering again – she could see from the small gusts coming from her mouth. The black and white medicine cat pawed at the supply of catmint. Growth had been good this leafbare, and the only thing that the medicine cats lacked was the elusive yarrow. Though the bitter-tasting herb wasn’t a crowd favourite, in certain situations it was vital to have. Tuifeather crouched on her nest of reeds and goose down. “Sleep now, Vinepaw.” She murmured, eyes closing with each word. Vinepaw cast one last look at the twice-organised piles of herbs before curling up next to her mentor, letting sleep wash over her…

“Vinepaw,” a ragged voice hissed. “You’re not a bear, you don’t hibernate! Now open your eyes.”

Vinepaw’s eyes flipped open. She was nearly nauseous by what she saw. She was in a huge, buzzing, whirring forest. Rain dripped from stratospheric oaks, though no water seemed to touch Vinepaw. There was cat-scent all around her, turning her nostrils inside out with so many names and smells. And before her stood a stocky, grey she-cat whose eyes betrayed nothing but the annoyance of waking an apprentice.

“Are you Mintfur?” Vinepaw squeaked in surprise. Mintfur was the medicine cat before Tuifeather, and Vinepaw had only met her once, as a kit, before she was killed by a rogue. This is a dream from StarClan! Vinepaw thought excitedly.

“No, I’m a squirrel,” Mintfur mewed sarcastically. “Of course it’s me!” Vinepaw had learned from being with the elders not to fear sharp-tongues, so she stretched in the evening sun and sat up. Mintfur cocked her head to the side, deciding whether to chide the young apprentice or speak kindly. She purred.

“Hello, young one. How is Tuifeather?” Mintfur meowed. Vinepaw stopped mid-lick. “Shouldn’t you know? You could just visit her, too.” Mintfur gave an indifferent sniff.

“She has other dreams occupying her mind, at the moment.” Vinepaw wondered what the old medicine cat meant, when a large mottled tom trotted out of a bush. He skirted the pair, and then approached them slowly.

“Greetings, Vinepaw.” The grey tom spoke in a wise, low voice. “My name is Stonestar,” he said, before Vinepaw could ask his identity. “I was leader of MeadowClan before Crowstar.” Stonestar spat the name of the murderous leader. Crowstar had been father of Starlingflight and Tuifeather. When the infamous leader had died, the two cats, then apprentices were not immediately welcomed into the Clan. But Mintfur and Fallenstar, despite how mournful he was about Crowstar killing his mate, accepted them. Now Starlingflight was a warrior to be proud of, and Tuifeather was a great medicine cat, and a great mentor to Vinepaw.

“Is this about the omen?” Vinepaw asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Stonestar said sadly. “We have come to warn you.”

“Warn us?” Vinepaw gasped.

“Stop asking questions, and let us inform you!” Mintfur growled.

“The black liquid is tainting your water,” Stonestar continued. “If any cat drinks it, they will become sick beyond healing, and die. You must find another home.” Vinepaw felt hollow. She shrank into the grass, trying to run away from the whole ordeal. Leave the meadow? But MeadowClan have been here for generations…

“What if we can’t find a place? The meadow is perfect for us; there aren’t many like it.” Vinepaw whimpered. “Prey is bountiful, not many rogues bother us, and there is – or at least used to be – a full supply of water. There aren’t very many places below Silverpelt that have that.” She ended sorrowfully.

Stonestar’s voice rumbled in his throat.

“There may not be many, but there are some. And we will lead you to one; the rest you will have to figure out for yourself.”

Mintfur placed her tail tip on Stonestar’s shoulder, implying for him to stop. “You will also have to convince Fallenstar, and that is a task within itself.”

Vinepaw felt like yowling to the skies. Where will we go? What must I do?

“How will I do it?” she mewed aloud.

“We will always be with you,” Mintfur purred, her eyes boring holes in Vinepaw’s. “Now go,” she continued. “You have a great destiny, you and Tuifeather.”

Dewfrost felt like a fox-heart. Badger dung, a complete and utter mouse-brain. Apprentices – all of them – were supposed to be brought up with confidence and nurturing. And she had just turned down a cat that was barely a kit. One day she would become a MeadowClan warrior, probably one to be proud of, and maybe one day even Clan leader! And she had just turned down a cat that was barely a kit, made them feel lower than a worm. Dewfrost knew in her head and heart that it would only make it worse to talk to Hollypaw. So she would just hold in her shame until sunrise, when she and Hollypaw would go out for the first time as mentor and apprentice. Dewfrost’s heart lifted a little when she thought of how she would redeem herself, and how she would make little Hollypaw proud to be her apprentice. She kept this in her mind as she collapsed into her nest. Most of her denmates had shifted their nests to the back of the bracken den. Dewfrost could see the eerie moonlight reflected on the staring eyes of fellow cats, some of them her friends. But were they still her friends? She tucked her grey tail over her nose, gazing out into the rainy night. Hailcloud and Lightfoot would stick by her, she was sure of that since they were kin. But her friends? Starlingflight and Treeleaf had always cheered her up. Casting a quick look at the glowing eyes behind her, she was sure she could see the green, disappointed eyes of Treeleaf. Dewfrost sighed and settled into a patchy sleep.

A hiss woke Dewfrost. Her eyes were blurred with rest, and flashes of nightmare-ish images still haunted behind her eyelids. But she was sure she could see a figure at the mouth of her den, sitting with a tight expression on her face.

“I need to talk to you, Dewfrost.” The cat growled. Dewfrost gathered her paws together and crouched in her nest, not willing to stand.

“Get up,” the stranger said. Dewfrost scurried out of the den, staying two tail-lengths from the cat at all times. The cat – now distinguishable as white – lead her to a patch of sheltered reeds, not far from camp. They padded there in silence, the white she-cat’s tail twitching with irritation. Dewfrost shrank under a large bush of blackberry, waiting for the cat to say something, but it didn’t. It sat there; pelt soaking with rain, back to her.

“Who…who are you?” Dewfrost whispered.

“Who do you think, Dewfrost?” the white cat faced her sharply with her gold eyes flashing with rage. Dewfrost gasped to see Tansypetal: beloved queen, mate to Riverfur, and mother of Hollypaw.

“You know what you’ve done. You know that it was wrong. So what am I doing here, you ask?” Tansypetal’s white fur was in wet clumps and her breath was ragged and tired. Dewfrost just stared.

“I’m here to ask you to keep quiet.” Tansypetal whimpered. Her face suddenly a lot less ferocious than it had been before.

Dewfrost quivered, recoiling. Does Tansypetal want to kill me? “Hollypaw wanted you as a mentor,” Tansypetal wailed.

“I should’ve told you! That’s why Fallenstar was so adamant. He says that Hollypaw has a lot of talent, and when she asked for you, he couldn’t refuse.” Tansypetal shuffled her feet and winced, suddenly feeling the rain. Dewfrost moved from under her shelter so that Tansypetal could be protected, too. The two shared tongues for a while, with Dewfrost licking Tansypetal dry. The night poured on, and so did the rain.

“Why did Fallenstar let Hollypaw choose a mentor?” Dewfrost mumbled.

“There was something,” Tansypetal whispered, half asleep. “Fallenstar swore me to secrecy – not even Hollypaw’s littermates know. I cannot tell you. I’m sorry,”

Dewfrost’s eyelids felt heavy with sleep, and both the yearning to know about her apprentice’s secret. She nudged the sleeping queen. “We best get back to camp, or we’ll be missed.”

The Secret Clan - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Tuifeather’s eyes shook like a fishpond in an earthquake. With a faint mew of distress, her legs collapsed under her and she lay on the sun-parched ground. Hailcloud drew back, trying to shrink away from the whole horrible situation.

“Tuifeather!” Vinepaw gasped over the roar of hungry flames. Duskflower lashed her tail. “Sunlight, Dewfrost, tend to Tuifeather, now!” she growled. Hailcloud was amazed at how the grey deputy handled situations like these. She may be short-tempered – and who can doubt that she is – but Fallenstar made a wise decision when he appointed Duskflower as deputy. As Sunlight and Dewfrost hesitated slightly, the grey deputy hissed. “Don’t just stand there like mice, help your clanmates!” the two warriors skidded to Tuifeather’s side and began to check her heartbeat and splash water onto her nose.

“Tulipaw and Keapaw,” Duskflower began. “It is crucial that you get some sand onto the fire. Kick,” they immediately sprinted to the quickly growing flame and kicked as fast as their legs could. Hailcloud watched the scene in horror. How could this happen? Why would StarClan allow this? Duskflower’s anxious face broke her thought train in two. “The rest of you – see if you can topple the container on fire. The water might just put it out!” Swiftstream leaped forward and crashed into the mighty container. Some of the sickly black liquid splashed onto his whiskers, and he flinched slightly, but kept pushing. Hailcloud rushed to help him, their similar coloured pelts mingling. Lightfoot barrelled against the plastic container with all her strength. The mountain of rubbish groaned, and with an almighty heave, it came tumbling down into the swift water. The cat-like fire went out with an annoyed hiss. Tulipaw and Keapaw crouched together, backs to the destruction, mid-kick. They gasped around the smoke.

What was left was a smouldering heap. Duskflower stood there, shaking in her paws. She managed to stumble a few steps before Sunlight rushed over to support the toppling deputy. “It’s over,” Sunlight sighed. “It’s…it’s all over.”

Tuifeather was breathing heavily. She lay on her side, eyes glazed over, and taking in the whole situation. Her tail tip flicked occasionally, signalling that the dear medicine cat could hear her fellow warriors. Dewfrost was watching over the medicine cat, her eyes showing past anxieties floating away. Vinepaw, however, was completely frenzied, her body shaking and her tail jerking. Her eyes followed a zigzagged trail of nothing.

“No,” she whispered. “This is far from over. This was not some two-leg nonsense, no, far from it. This meant something. The starry warriors above us are trying to say something, and they said it through Tuifeather. Follow the river and you will meet fire, but beware of darkness. Tuifeather?” the apprentice asked tentatively. The black and white she-cat raised her head meekly. She looked slightly confused, but despite the whole frightening ordeal, she mewed quietly. “Yes. Yes, this was a sign from StarClan. But before leaping to a conclusion, as I just have, I would like to speak with Fallenstar.” She gritted her teeth and tried to stand, but she collapsed onto the stony bank of the river. Hailcloud rushed forward, brushing aside Sunlight with her tail. “You’re weak,” she said in Tuifeather’s ear softly. “Let us help you,” Hailcloud twitched her tail at Lightfoot, as Dewfrost was already poised to help. Lightfoot nosed at Tuifeather’s belly, supporting the medicine cat as she tried to get to her feet. She slid out from underneath her and her two sisters moved like magnets onto either side of Tuifeather’s unstable body. Duskflower nodded tersely, and with a flick of her tail the patrol of warriors filed in and followed the deputy. Hailcloud’s stomach turned as she looked at Vinepaw. She followed hesitantly, looking wary. She flinched when flies buzzed around her, or when a stone shifted beneath her. She looked nearly as bad as her mentor, Tuifeather. The medicine cat was barely walking – Hailcloud and Dewfrost were pressed so tightly against her.

Hailcloud shivered. This was far beyond the reach of her paws. The river was tainted! Maybe that could be the darkness in the prophecy?

Keapaw was first to come into camp, with Tulipaw following closely behind. The white apprentice was trembling slightly, but her eyes were determined and strong. He touched her on the shoulder with his tail and led her across to the centre of the camp, where the Clan was waiting, wide-eyed. Possumpaw leaped forward out of the crowd, the eyes of his clanmates following him every inch. The brown apprentice looked down before brushing muzzles with his journeying denmates. “Welcome back,” Possumpaw muttered. “Fallenstar is about to address the Clan.” The rest of the patrol was now coming into the camp, the swishing of reeds signalling their arrival. Tuifeather was now walking independently, but her eyes were clouded, and she sometimes crossed her paws. The Clan cats were all gathered around a faded tortoiseshell tom, sitting a tail-length or so away. They all looked up to him. The sage-like tom flicked his tail and called to the returning patrol.

“Ah, Duskflower,” he mewed. “I trust you had a successful mission?” Duskflower stared at her leader. “Fallenstar,” she addressed him formally. “I would like to discuss this after a Clan meeting, if possible.” Fallenstar jerked his head backwards, as if her words had clawed at his heart.

“Very well,” he growled. “Now, all of you come join the rest of us.” He waved his tail at the returning cats and they quickly hurried to sit beside their clanmates.

“Today,” Fallenstar resumed in his commanding, reverberating voice. “Is a proud day for MeadowClan. Not only are we making four kits apprentices, but two apprentices are becoming warriors.” Keapaw swung his head around to find Possumpaw, but noticed that the brown apprentice was sitting not far off from Fallenstar! He and his brother’s fur were shining with fresh grooming, and their father Volewhisker was looking on with pride in his eyes. With a jolt, he realised that the brothers were the new warriors. A brief wave of jealousy coursed through Keapaw, but it was easily overcome with joy for his friend. It’ll be my turn soon, he reasoned.

“Beepaw,” Fallenstar summoned the grey apprentice. “Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect the Clan, even at the risk of your own life?” Beepaw looked Fallenstar straight in the eye and meowed. “I do.”

Keapaw wasn’t so sure that he did. Beepaw had dark mystery hanging around him. As with other cats, if you looked into his eyes, you could usually see his good intentions or see his heart. With Beepaw, you saw a steel wall, not hinting anything. And Keapaw knew that Beepaw didn’t have the best intentions, or the purest heart. He just hoped that having the honour of being a warrior would be enough to set Beepaw on the right path.

“Then from this day forward, I, Fallenstar, leader of MeadowClan name you Beestripe. StarClan honours your determination and skill.” As the newly named Beestripe faced the Clan, Keapaw couldn’t help thinking of how Fallenstar hadn’t mentioned loyalty. But seeing the pride and contentment in the grey apprentice’s – no, warrior’s – eyes, Keapaw pushed all his anxieties about him to the back of his mind. Anyway, it was Possumpaw’s turn next. Fallenstar repeated the initiation for new warriors, and waited for Possumpaw to accept being a warrior.

“I promise.” Possumpaw whispered, his voice brimmed with intensity. Fallenstar looked rather taken back, but carried on, eyes on the brown tom.

“Then from this day forward, I name you Possumflight. StarClan honours your bravery and intelligence.”

The entire Clan erupted in chanting of the new warriors names’.

“Beestripe, Possumflight!” The two new warriors exchanged a happy glance before puffing out their chests.

“As is tradition,” Fallenstar said as soon as the cheering died down. “The new warriors of the Clan will sit vigil tonight and guard the camp. They are not to speak to any of their fellow Clanmates, as you all know, but when the sun rises they will be welcomed as MeadowClan warriors.” Keapaw tried to catch the newly named Possumflight’s eye, but Volewhisker had rushed up to his sons and was rubbing against them whispering “Your mother would be so proud of you”. Beestripe cast his gaze skywards and sighed. The three warriors returned to the crowd. Possumflight sat between Starlingflight and Riverfur, who both gave him approving nods.

“Furthermore, we have an incredible four kits to make apprentices. Will Tansypetal’s most recent litter please step forward?” From the nursery walked – not stumbled – four well-groomed young cats, tails and chins high.

“Tweetkit, Mistkit, Beetlekit and Hollykit. Do you promise to train to the best of your ability as a MeadowClan apprentice?”

The kits all mewed excited yes’s, with Mistkit squeaking hers loudly. “Then from this day forth until you earn your warrior name, I name you Tweetpaw, Mistpaw, Beetlepaw and Hollypaw. Starlingflight,” Fallenstar beckoned the black and white she-cat forth with a sweep of his tail.

“It has not gone unnoticed that you have yet to have an apprentice. I trust you will teach Tweetpaw all that you know and he will turn into a fine warrior quite like yourself.”

Starlingflight glowed with pride, as did Tweetpaw. “I will do my best, Fallenstar.” She mewed, and licked the black apprentice behind the ear. The two moved back into the crowd, with Tansypetal watching excitedly.

“Mistpaw, your mentor will be Cricketsong.” To the new mentor, he said, “Pass down your unwavering bravery and skill to this apprentice.” Cricketsong nodded but said nothing, licking Mistpaw’s ear. Mistpaw looked slightly disappointed at the choice of her mentor, but purred unconvincingly.

“Hailcloud, you will be mentor to Beetlepaw. Your loyalty and courage I am sure will show through in this apprentice.” Hailcloud’s eyes sparkled as she bounded up to Beetlepaw, who looked slightly awkward up there next to the comparatively large warrior. Keapaw was sure he could hear Hailcloud whisper “Don’t be afraid, little one”.

Finally, Fallenstar named Hollypaw’s mentor.

“Hollypaw, you will work under and learn from Dewfrost,” Keapaw whipped his head around to see Dewfrost’s confused look on her face.

“Fallenstar, if I could interrupt – ”

“Which you cannot,” Fallenstar growled.

“As much as I may want to have this apprentice, I mentored Beestripe, who has just become a warrior!” Dewfrost flustered. “Surely it is unfair to give me a second apprentice when so many other fit warriors would be honoured to have her?” she cried. That’s true, Keapaw thought ruefully. Many warriors such as Yarrowleaf and Raintail were snarling subtly at Dewfrost. They were yet to have apprentices, and Keapaw couldn’t help thinking Fallenstar was favouring some warriors.

“Silence!” Fallenstar hissed. “I choose each apprentice to the warrior I think would be ideal for it, and I as your leader, choose this apprentice for you. If you are willing to turn down this promising young cat, then maybe you aren’t suited to being a mentor at all!” Fallenstar’s last words echoed around the grassy camp. All cats fell silent, shrinking back from the harsh words. The only thing that broke the quiet was the ever-present chatter of the stream.

Keapaw was oddly thankful of the other cats around him. He suddenly felt exposed to Fallenstar’s burning anger, and the night smells on his Clanmates pelts calmed him.

Another reason Keapaw’s ears flamed was because this fuming leader was his own father. And his father was more loyal to his Clan than to his mother-less kit. To him, his mentor Lightfoot was more of a mother – or a father, for that matter – than he had ever had.

Dewfrost did not meet Fallenstar’s gaze. She twitched slightly.

“I will take this apprentice, Fallenstar.” She whispered, barely audible enough for the sage-like leader to hear. He looked down his nose at her and carried on, slowly.

“Hollypaw, your mentor will be Dewfrost.” It was then as the defeated she-cat came up to accept her apprentice, Keapaw actually saw the apprentice. She looked like a turtle drawn into her shell, not wanting to be there. Her whiskers twitched and her lips quivered. When Dewfrost reached her, she reluctantly licked her mentor’s shoulder, whose eyes held all the apologies in the world. As soon as Hollypaw moved back, Fallenstar hastily called, “This meeting is over.”

The cats dispersed quickly, with Duskflower, Tuifeather and Vinepaw trotting lithely into Fallenstar’s den to talk about today’s journey. But nobody’s mind seemed to be on the startling prophecy. All eyes – ones leaving on border patrol, peering from the depths of dens, or even staring blatantly – were on the miserable, tail-trailing remains of the once happy Dewfrost.

Keapaw and Tulipaw had the entertaining job of keeping the new apprentices company. The camp had settled into an eerie silence, apart from the hushed voices of the four cats in Fallenstar’s den. Tulipaw and Mistpaw were deeply engrossed in a gossip about Beestripe, while Keapaw, Beetlepaw and Tweetpaw were playing quietly with a moss ball. Hollypaw was buried in the recesses of the rosemary bush, head tucked under her paws, breathing unevenly. As Tweetpaw hooked the moss ball with his claw and frenzied over it, Keapaw mewed quietly, “I’ll be right back.” The tortoiseshell tom ducked and weaved towards the back of the apprentice den, and crouched beside Hollypaw. She looked up briefly, her honey-comb yellow eyes melting Keapaw’s.

“Hi, Keapaw,” she whispered in a voice that matched her eyes. “Being an apprentice is cool, isn’t it?” she mewed, obviously trying to be enthusiastic.

“Look, Hollypaw,” his voice stumbled on her name awkwardly. “Any warrior would be lucky to have you. Dewfrost was just surprised she had been chosen to be a mentor so soon. Fallenstar is old; his judgement isn’t as clear as it used to be.” Hollypaw looked uncertain for a heartbeat, but then she let out an uneasy purr, and pressed against Keapaw. Her tabby and white fur mingled with his tortoiseshell pelt. Keapaw felt his stomach flip, and his heart flap around like a finch in a birdcage. He didn’t know where to look – not at the sad but besotted she-cat nuzzled next to him, and certainly not at the other three apprentices.

The fourth was staring at him with betrayal and poison in her eyes. Her white neck fur bristled, and her tail tip twitched in discomfort. Narrowing her eyes, she whipped around and rushed out into the night rain. The last thing he heard of the grief-stricken Tulipaw was an air-piercing yowl. Keapaw buried his face in Hollypaw’s warmth and stayed there through till morning.