Chapter 25

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Sandstorm paused at the edge of the trees. "Wait," he warned Brightpaw. "We're near Twolegplace, so we have to be careful. What can you smell?"

Brightpaw raised his nose obediently and sniffed. He and Sandstorm had just been on the first long expedition of his apprenticeship, tracing the Clan boundaries and renewing the scent marks. Now they were near Sandstorm's old kittypet home, outside the garden where Brightpaw's mother, Olive, lived.

"I can smell lots of cats," Brightpaw mewed. "I don't recognize any of them, though."

"That's good," Sandstorm told him. "They're mostly kittypets, and maybe a loner or two. Not Clan cats." He had caught a trace of Goldenflower's scent, too, but he didn't draw Brightpaw's attention to it. He remembered the day long ago, when snow was on the ground, when he had tracked Goldenflower to this place, and found the deputy's scent mixed with the scents of many strange cats.

Now Goldenflower's scent proved he had been here again. Sandstorm still could not tell whether he had met the other cats, or whether their scents just happened to have crossed. But why should Goldenflower come so close to the Twolegplace, when he despised Twolegs and everything to do with them?

"Sandstorm, can we go and see my mother now?" Brightpaw demanded.

"Can you smell dogs? Or fresh Twoleg scent?"

Brightpaw sniffed again and shook his head.

"Then let's go," mewed Sandstorm. Looking carefully around, he stepped out into the open. Brightpaw followed him with exaggerated caution, as if he wanted to show Sandstorm how quickly he could learn.

Since his apprentice ceremony the day before, Brightpaw had been unusually quiet. He was obviously trying very hard to be a good apprentice, listening to everything Sandstorm told him with wide-eyed seriousness. But Sandstorm couldn't help asking himself how long this uncharacteristic humility would last. Instructing Brightpaw to wait, he leaped onto the fence and looked down into the garden. Lurid-colored flowers grew against the fence, and in the center of the grass some Twoleg pelts hung on a spiky, leafless tree. "Olive?" he called softly. "Olive, are you there?"

Leaves quivered on a shrub close to the house, and the white figure of Olive stepped delicately onto the grass. When she saw him she let out a delighted meow. "Sandstorm!"

Bounding over to the fence, she sprang up beside him and pressed her cheek against his. "Sandstorm, it's been such a long time!" she purred. "It's good to see you."

"I've brought someone else, too," Sandstorm told her. "Look down there."

Olive peered over the fence to where Brightpaw sat on the ground below, looking up at her. "Sandstorm!" she exclaimed. "That couldn't be Brightkit! He's grown so much!"

Without waiting to be told, Brightpaw leaped for the top of the fence, paws scrabbling madly against the smooth wood. Sandstorm leaned over and fastened his teeth in his scruff to pull him up the last couple of mouse-lengths so that he could sit on the fence beside his mother.

Brightpaw looked at Olive with wide blue eyes. "Are you really my mother?" he asked.

"I really am," Olive purred, looking her son up and down admiringly. "Oh, it's so good to see you again, Brightkit."

"Actually, I'm not Brightkit," the fluffy white and ginger tom announced proudly. "I'm Brightpaw now. I'm an apprentice."

"That's wonderful!" Olive began to cover her son with licks, purring so hard that she barely had breath enough for words. "Oh, you're so thin... do you get enough to eat? Have you made friends where you are? I hope you do what Sandstorm tells you."

Brightpaw didn't try to answer the flood of questions. He wriggled out from his mother's caresses and edged away from her along the fence. "I'll be a warrior soon," he boasted. "Sandstorm's teaching me to fight."

Olive closed her eyes for a moment. "You will have to be so brave," she murmured. For a moment Sandstorm thought she was regretting her decision to give her son to the Clan, but then she opened her eyes again and declared. "I'm so proud of both of you!"

Brightpaw sat even taller as he lapped up her attention. He twisted his head to groom himself with rapid strokes of his small pink tongue, and while he was distracted Sandstorm whispered. "Olive, do you ever see any strange cats around here?"

"Strange cats?" She looked puzzled, and Sandstorm wondered if there was any point in asking the question. Olive wouldn't know rogues or loners from ordinary Thunderclan cats.

Then Olive shivered. "Yes, I've heard them yowling in the night. My Twoleg gets up and shouts at them."

"You haven't seen a big, pale tabby?" Sandstorm asked, his heart starting to pound. "A tom with a scarred muzzle?"

Olive shook her head, eyes wide. "I've only heard them, not seen them."

"If you do see the pale tabby, stay away from him," Sandstorm warned. He didn't know what Goldenflower was up to so far from the camp, if it really was Goldenflower, but he didn't want Olive going near the deputy, just in case.

This made Olive look so scared that he changed the subject, encouraging Brightpaw to describe his apprentice ceremony, and the expedition they had made around the borders. Soon she was happy again, exclaiming admiringly at everything her son told her.

The sun was past its height when Sandstorm meowed, "Brightpaw, it's time we went home."

Brightpaw opened his mouth as if he was going to protest, but he remembered himself in time. "Yes, Sandstorm," he mewed obediently. To Olive, he added, "Why don't you come with us? I'd catch mice for you, and you could sleep in my den."

Olive let out a purr of amusement. "I almost wish I could," she replied honestly. "But really I'm happier as a kittypet. I don't want to learn to fight, or sleep outdoors in the cold. You'll just have to come and visit me again soon."

"Yes, I will, I promise," Brightpaw mewed.

"I'll bring him," Sandstorm meowed. "And Olive..." he added as he prepared to spring to the ground. "If you do see anything... odd around here, please tell me about it."


Sandstorm stopped on the way back so that they could hunt. By the time he and Brightpaw reached the ravine, the sun was near to setting, bathing the forest in red light and casting long shadows on the ground.

Brightpaw was proudly carrying a shrew, which he was going to take to the elders. At least it filled his jaws and put a stop to his endless chatter. Sandstorm was feeling worn out after a whole day in his company, but he had to admit he was more impressed than he had expected. Brightpaw's courage and quick wits promised that he would make an exceptional warrior. As they slipped down the shady ravine toward the tunnel, Sandstorm paused. An unfamiliar scent tickled his nostrils, drifting to him on the breeze that swept through the forest.

Brightpaw stopped too and put down the shrew. "Sandstorm, what's that?" He tasted the air, and drew in his breath in a gasp. "You showed me that this morning. It's Riverclan!"

"Very good," Sandstorm mewed tensely. He had recognized it himself a heartbeat before Brightpaw spoke. Looking up toward the top of the ravine, he could make out three cats picking their way slowly through the boulders. "Riverclan it is. And it seems they're on their way here. Now go back to the camp and tell Oakstar. Make sure she understands it's not an attack."

"But I want—" The young apprentice broke off as Sandstorm frowned. "Sorry, Sandstorm. I'm going." He padded off toward the tunnel entrance, not forgetting to pick up his shrew.

Sandstorm stayed where he was. He drew himself up and waited while the three cats drew closer. He recognized Leopardfur, Blackclaw, and Stonefur. When they were only a couple of tail-lengths away, he asked, "Riverclan, what do you want? Why are you on our land?" Though he had to challenge them for entering Thunderclan territory uninvited, he tried not to sound too hostile. He didn't want to add to any possible trouble with Riverclan.

Leopardfur stopped, with Blackclaw and Stonefur just behind him. "We come in peace," he meowed. "There are matters to be settled between our Clans. Willowstar has sent us to talk to your leader."

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