DAWN

The reek of Twoleg monsters stung her nostrils as they approached the border. There was no sign of any prey: no birds in the sky and no scent of rabbits among the gorse. WindClan had never been an easy territory to hunt in, but there had always been traces of prey on the breeze or in the sandy soil. Even the buzzards, which often hovered over the wide stretch of moorland, were gone.

The four cats reached the crest of a rise, and Squirrelpaw swallowed hard, fighting the urge to retch as the tang of monsters grew stronger. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look down the slope. A whole slice of land had been carved out of the moorland, brown and grey and broken instead of the smooth green expanse that had been there when the cats began their journey. In the distance, Twoleg monsters growled across the ground, chewing the earth with their heavy paws to leave a trail of useless mud.

Trembling, Squirrelpaw whispered, “No wonder WindClan moved to the rabbit warrens! The Twolegs must have destroyed their camp.”

“They’ve destroyed everything,” Brambleclaw breathed.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tawnypelt hissed. Squirrelpaw heard anger in her voice, and saw her long, hooked claws sink into the grass.

Brambleclaw continued to stare at the ravaged landscape. “I can’t believe how much they’ve destroyed.”

Squirrelpaw’s throat tightened. Seeing Brambleclaw’s misery was almost as bad as looking at the ruined moor. “Come on,” she urged. “We have to get home and find out what has happened to our Clans.”

He nodded. Squirrelpaw saw him brace his shoulders as if he were literally carrying the weight of the message they had to take to their Clan. Without saying anything else, he headed down the slope, keeping well away from the Twoleg monsters, and together the cats picked their way across the swath of churned-up ground. Squirrelpaw was grateful for the cold night that had set the mud hard; if it rained, this would turn into a clogging brown river, enough to swallow kits and suck at the bellies of the longest-legged warriors.

When they reached the WindClan border where the land swept down to the forest, Tawnypelt paused. “I’ll leave you here,” she meowed. Her voice was calm but her eyes betrayed her sadness. “We’ll meet at Fourtrees tomorrow, whatever the Twolegs have done,” she promised.

“Good luck with Blackstar,” Brambleclaw meowed, rubbing his muzzle along his sister’s cheek.

“I don’t need luck,” she replied grimly. “I will do whatever it takes to persuade Blackstar to come with me. Our quest isn’t over yet. We have to keep going for the sake of our Clans.”

Squirrelpaw felt a renewed burst of energy as the tortoiseshell warrior pelted away toward the ShadowClan border. “And we’ll persuade Firestar!” she called after her.

The grass grew softer under their paws as Brambleclaw, Squirrelpaw, and Stormfur approached the RiverClan border; soon Squirrelpaw could scent the markers and hear the distant thundering of water in the gorge. RiverClan territory lay on the other side, and just beyond the gorge there was a Twoleg bridge that would take Stormfur across the river to his camp.

Brambleclaw paused as if he expected Stormfur to leave them there, but Stormfur just looked into his eyes. “I’m coming with you to the ThunderClan camp,” he meowed quietly.

“Coming with us? Why?” Squirrelpaw exclaimed.

“I want to tell my father about Feathertail,” he replied.

“But we can tell him,” she offered, wanting to spare Stormfur the pain of telling Greystripe, the ThunderClan deputy, about his daughter’s death. Greystripe had fallen in love with a RiverClan she-cat, Silverstream, many moons ago. She had died bearing his kits, and though Stormfur and Feathertail had grown up in RiverClan, they had always known their ThunderClan father.

Stormfur shook his head. “He has already lost our mother,” he reminded her. “I want to be the one to tell him about Feathertail.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Then come with us,” he mewed gently.

In single file the three cats followed the path away from the gorge and down into the trees. Squirrelpaw’s fur prickled with anticipation as she breathed the musty smell of fallen leaves. They were nearly home. She quickened her pace until her paws were flying across the soft forest floor. She felt Brambleclaw’s pelt brush against hers as he sped up to join her.

But Squirrelpaw wasn’t running from excitement or joy at being back in the forest. Something was calling her home—something even more desperate than the threat of the Twolegs and their monsters. The sinister dreams that had disturbed her sleep flooded her mind again and echoed in her heart like the warning cry of a hawk. Something was terribly wrong.

CHAPTER 2

“Spottedleaf!” Leafpaw called desperately into the forest. There was no reply. The wise medicine cat had guided her many times before in dreams; if ever Leafpaw had needed Spottedleaf’s help, it was now.

“Spottedleaf, where are you?” she called again.

The trees did not even tremble in the breeze. No prey-sound whispered in the shadows. The silence tore at Leafpaw’s heart like a claw.

Suddenly an unfamiliar yowl echoed in her ears, forcing its way into her dream. Leafpaw opened her eyes with a jolt. For a moment she couldn’t think where she was. Her fur was ruffled by a cold draft, and instead of a soft, mossy nest there was a strange, cold, shiny web beneath her paws. She stood up in panic, and more shiny web grazed her ears. Wherever she was, it was a very small space, hardly taller than she was. Taking a deep breath, Leafpaw forced herself to look around, and everything came rushing back to her.

She was trapped in a tiny den, with walls, floor, and roof made entirely from cold, hard web. There was just enough space to stand and stretch, but no more. It was packed among other dens lining every wall of a small wooden Twoleg nest.

Leafpaw longed to see the stars, to breathe in the comforting presence of StarClan and know they were watching her, but when she looked up she saw nothing but the nest’s steeply pitched roof. The only light came from a shaft of moonlight that streamed through a small hole in the wall at one end of the nest. Her den was on top of others; the one directly below was empty, but beneath that she could just make out a bundle of dark fur. Another cat? Not a forest cat, since its scent was unfamiliar. The shape was so still, it must have been sleeping. If it was alive at all, Leafpaw thought grimly.

She listened again for the yowl, but the cat that had cried out was silent now, and Leafpaw could hear only the soft mewling and shuffling of cats trapped in the other dens. She sniffed the air but recognised no scents. An acrid Twoleg stench filled the nest, tinged with fear. Leafpaw unsheathed her claws, feeling them catch on the shiny web.

StarClan, where are you? The thought fleetingly crossed her mind that she was already dead, but she thrust it away with a shudder that made her claws scrape against the floor of the den.

“You’re awake at last,” whispered a voice.

Leafpaw jumped and craned her neck to look over her shoulder. A heap of tabby fur stirred in the den beside hers, and she smelled the unmistakable Twoleg-tainted scent of a kittypet. There had been kindness in the she-cat’s voice, but Leafpaw felt too wretched to reply. Her mind flooded with bitter memories of how the Twolegs had trapped her while she was hunting with Sorreltail and brought her to this awful place. She had been separated from her Clan and locked in darkness. Overwhelmed by despair, she buried her nose in her paws and closed her eyes.

Another voice sounded from a den further along. It was too quiet to make out the words, but there was something familiar about it. Leafpaw lifted her muzzle to taste the air, but all she could smell was a sour tang that reminded her of the herbs Cinderpelt used for cleaning wounds. The voice spoke again, and Leafpaw strained her ears to listen.

“We must get out of here,” the cat was mewing.

Another cat answered from the far side of the nest. “How? There’s no way out.”

“We can’t just sit here waiting to die!” the first voice insisted. “There have been other cats here—I can smell them, and their fear-scent. I don’t know what happened to them, but whatever it was must have scared their fur off. We’ve got to get out before we become nothing but stale fear-scent!”

“There’s no way out, you mouse-brain,” came a rough mew. “Shut up and let us sleep.”

The words made Leafpaw feel sick with fear and sadness. She didn’t want to die here! She flattened her ears and closed her eyes, clawing for the safety of sleep.

“Wake up!” A voice hissed in Leafpaw’s ear, jolting her out of troubled dreams.

She lifted her head and looked around. Watery sunlight filtered in through the hole in the wall, though it did nothing to lift the chill from her fur. In the weak dawn light she could see the tabby she-cat in the den next to her more clearly. The stranger was soft and well groomed, and Leafpaw was conscious of her own matted pelt as she stared at her. She was definitely a kittypet, plump and soft-muscled beneath her tabby pelt.

“Are you all right?” asked the kittypet, her eyes wide with worry. “You sounded as if you were in pain.”

“I was dreaming,” Leafpaw replied hoarsely. Her voice felt strange, as if she hadn’t spoken for several days, and as she spoke memories of her nightmare came flooding back: images of water-swollen rivers scarlet with blood—and great birds swooping out of the sky with thorn-sharp claws. For a heartbeat, Leafpaw saw Feathertail hidden in darkness and then swathed in starlight, and without understanding why, her paws trembled.

Outside a Twoleg monster roared into wakefulness, bringing her back to the wooden nest and the den that pressed around her.

“You don’t look well,” the kittypet commented. “Try eating some breakfast. There’s some in the corner of your cage.”

Cage? Leafpaw wondered at the strange word. “Is that what this den is called?” The kittypet was nodding through the web that separated the two “cages” towards a half-empty holder of stinking pellets.

Leafpaw looked at the Twoleg food in disgust. “I’m not eating that!”

“Then at least sit up and give yourself a wash,” the kittypet urged. “You’ve been hunched up like a wounded mouse since the workfolk brought you here.”

Leafpaw twitched her shoulders but didn’t move.

“They didn’t hurt you when they caught you, did they?” the kittypet asked. There was concern in her voice.

“No,” Leafpaw mumbled.

“Then get up and wash yourself,” she went on more briskly. “You’re no use to yourself or any cat moping around like that.”

Leafpaw did not want to get up and wash herself. The web floor scratched against her paws, and blood oozed from beneath one of her claws. Her eyes stung with the filthy air that filtered into the nest, fouled by the monsters outside. And StarClan had sent no comfort to ease the desperate fear that gripped her heart.

“Get up!” repeated the kittypet, more firmly this time.

Leafpaw twisted her head around to glare at her, but the kittypet held her gaze.

“We’re going to find some way to escape,” she mewed. “Unless you get up, stretch your muscles, and have something to eat and drink, you’re going to be left behind. And I’m not leaving any cat here if I can help it!”

Leafpaw blinked. “Do you know a way out of here?”

“Not yet,” admitted the kittypet. “But you might be able to help me find one if only you’d stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Leafpaw knew she was right. She wouldn’t solve anything by curling up and waiting to die. Besides, she wasn’t ready to join StarClan. She was an apprentice medicine cat—her Clan needed her here, in the forest. Whatever was left of it.

Pushing away the misery that had sapped her strength, she pulled herself up onto her paws. Her cramped muscles screamed in protest as she uncurled her tail and flexed her legs.

“That’s better,” purred the kittypet. “Now turn round. There’s more room to stretch if you face the other way.”

Leafpaw obediently wriggled round and reached her paws to the corner of the cage, gripping the web to brace herself. As she stretched, pressing her chest down and flexing her shoulders, she felt her stiff muscles soften. Feeling a little better, she began to wash herself, swiping her tongue over her flank.

The kittypet huddled closer to the mesh and watched her with bright blue eyes. “I’m Cody,” she meowed. “What are you called?”

“Leafpaw.”

“Leafpaw?” echoed Cody. “What an odd name.” She shrugged and carried on. “Well, bad luck on getting caught, Leafpaw. Did you lose your collar too? I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t pulled mine off—the wretched thing! I thought I was so clever managing to wriggle out of it, but if I’d still been wearing it, the workfolk would have taken me home instead of bringing me here.” She tucked in her chin and licked an unkempt clump of fur on her chest. “My housefolk are going to be mad with worry. If I’m not in by midnight they start rushing around the garden shaking the pellet pot and calling for me. It’s nice that they care, but I can look after myself.”

Leafpaw couldn’t help letting out a purr of amusement. “A kittypet, look after itself? If it weren’t for the food the Twolegs give you, you’d starve!”

“Twolegs?”

“Sorry.” Leafpaw corrected herself for the kittypet’s benefit. “Housefolk.”

“Well, where do you get your food from?” asked Cody.

“I hunt for it.”

“I caught a mouse once . . .” Cody meowed defensively.

“I catch all my food,” Leafpaw retorted. For a moment, she forgot she was trapped in a stifling cage, and saw only the green forest rustling with the tiny sounds of prey. “And I catch enough for the elders, too.”

Cody narrowed her blue eyes. “Are you one of those woodland cats that Smudge talks about?”

“I’m a Clan cat,” Leafpaw told her.

Cody’s gaze clouded with confusion. “A Clan cat?”

“There are four Clans in the forest,” Leafpaw explained. “We each have our own territory and customs, but we all live together under StarClan.” She saw Cody’s eyes stretch wide, and she went on. “StarClan are our warrior ancestors. They live in Silverpelt.” She flicked her tail towards the roof, indicating the sky. “All Clan cats will join StarClan one day.”

“Smudge never mentioned any Clans,” murmured Cody.

“Who’s Smudge?”

“A cat from another garden. He had a friend a long time ago, a kittypet who went off to join the woodland cats . . . I mean Clans.”

“My father was born a kittypet,” meowed Leafpaw. “He left his Twolegs to join ThunderClan.”

Cody pressed herself against the shiny web that separated them. “What’s your father called?”

Leafpaw stared back at her. “Do you think he might be that cat your friend used to know?”

Cody nodded. “Maybe! What is his name?”

“Firestar.”

Cody shook her head. “Smudge’s friend was called Rusty.” She sighed. “Not Firestar.”

“But he wasn’t always Firestar,” Leafpaw mewed. “That’s his Clan name. It’s a leader’s name. He had to earn it, just as he had to earn his warrior name.”

Cody glanced at her thoughtfully. “Names are important to the Clans, then?”

“Very. I mean, each kit is given a name that means something, that recognises the way it is different from all its Clanmates.” She paused. “I guess you could say that we are given the name we deserve.”

“What did your father do to deserve the name Firestar?”

“His pelt is as orange as flame,” Leafpaw told her. “So when he came to ThunderClan, the leader named him Fire—” She broke off. Cody was staring at her in astonishment.

“It must be Smudge’s friend!” she gasped. “Smudge always said Rusty had the brightest orange pelt he’d ever seen. And now he’s the leader of your Clan! Wow, I can’t wait to tell Smudge!”

A pang of sorrow gripped Leafpaw’s heart as she wondered if Cody would have another chance to speak to Smudge, or if she herself would ever see her father again. Oh, StarClan, help us!

Cody glanced down at the floor as if she had followed Leafpaw’s terrified thoughts. “Your ears look like another wash wouldn’t do any harm,” she mewed, changing the subject.

Leafpaw licked her paw and drew it over one ear as Cody continued. “Your father must be wondering where you’ve gone. I bet he’s as worried about you as my housefolk are about me.”

“Yes,” Leafpaw agreed, though privately she doubted that Twolegs had the same connection with their cats as she did with her kin. She reminded herself that Cody seemed devoted to her housefolk—she sounded as concerned about them as Leafpaw was about her Clanmates. “We must find a way out of here.” Her voice hardened with determination. Firestar was already worried enough about Squirrelpaw without another daughter going missing.

She stared at the hole high up in the nest wall where the sunshine filtered in, and wondered if it was big enough for a cat to squeeze through. She might just manage it, even if she left some fur behind. But how could she escape from her cage? She studied the catch that held the door shut.

“It’s no use,” Cody mewed, following her gaze. “I’ve tried reaching my paw through, but I can’t get a grip on the catch.”

“Do you know why the Twolegs are trapping us like this?” Leafpaw asked, dragging her eyes away from the door.

Cody shrugged. “I suppose they think we get in the way of what they’re doing in the forest,” she mewed. “They caught me after I chased a squirrel into the woods, further than I usually go. One of the monsters came roaring through the trees, and I panicked. I was so startled I didn’t see the work-folk all around. One of them scooped me up and shoved me in here. Even without my collar, he must have been as stupid as a pup to mistake me for a forest cat!” She bristled indignantly, then let her fur lie flat as she caught Leafpaw’s eye. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I mean, you’re much nicer than I thought you’d be,” she finished awkwardly.

Leafpaw shrugged. Forest cat or kittypet, they were equally trapped. “I don’t usually come to this part of the woods either,” she meowed. “I was looking for Cloudtail and Brightheart, two of my Clanmates.”

Cody tipped her head to one side.

“They went missing not long ago,” Leafpaw explained. “Some of the Clan thought they’d just run away, but I know they’d never leave their kit.”

“So you decided the Twolegs must have caught them and came looking for them,” Cody guessed.

“I didn’t even know the Twolegs were trapping cats,” Leafpaw mewed. “I just followed a clue, and I came across the scent of a RiverClan cat who’d gone missing too.”

She paused, her fur prickling. If Cloudtail, Brightheart, and Mistyfoot had been trapped by the Twolegs, they could be here now! She stared frantically around the nest, brighter now as the morning light strengthened. Finally she saw a shape she had hoped to find, the tortoiseshell-splashed fur familiar even in the gloom.

“Brightheart!” Leafpaw tried to call her Clanmate’s name, but a new noise silenced her cry. The nest door opened and light streamed in. Leafpaw quickly scanned the cages for more familiar shapes as a Twoleg marched into the nest.

The Twoleg began opening each cage and tossing something inside. When it reached hers, Leafpaw jumped back. She watched, trembling in fear, as the Twoleg dropped fresh pellets into the pot near the front and slopped stinking water into the holder beside it. But when the Twoleg opened Cody’s cage, the kittypet brushed against its giant paw, purring as the Twoleg stroked her soft fur.

The Twoleg shut Cody’s door and left the nest. The cages were plunged once more into shadow.

“How could you let it touch you?” Leafpaw hissed.

“The workfolk might be our best way out of here,” Cody pointed out. “If I can persuade it that I’m nothing but a poor lost kittypet, it might let me go. You should try it too.”

Leafpaw shuddered at the idea of any Twoleg touching her, and she knew her Clanmates would feel the same. She tried to find the cage where she had recognised Brightheart’s soft pelt.

“Brightheart!” she called, her tail twitching anxiously.

“Yes,” came the wary reply. “Who’s that?”

Leafpaw pressed herself against the front of her cage, feeling the web hard and cold through her fur. “It’s Leafpaw!”

“Leafpaw!” The voice came from somewhere else in the nest, and Leafpaw let out a muffled purr as she recognised Cloudtail’s familiar mew. She searched the cages until she saw his thick white pelt.

“You’re both still alive!” Leafpaw exclaimed.

“Are those the cats you were looking for?” Cody asked.

Leafpaw nodded.

“Leafpaw?” Another voice came from the gloom. “It’s me, Mistyfoot.”

“Mistyfoot!” Leafpaw echoed. “I thought I found your scent before I was trapped! What were you doing so far from the RiverClan border?”

“I wouldn’t have been caught in that fox-hearted Twoleg trap if I hadn’t been chasing a thieving WindClan warrior off my territory,” growled the she-cat.

A trembling meow sounded from below. “I didn’t know it was a trap when I hid in it.”

“Who’s that?” Leafpaw asked, peering down.

“Gorsetail of WindClan,” came the reply.

“Are there any other Clan cats here?” Leafpaw called, only half hoping for a reply. However relieved she was to find that her Clanmates and friends were still alive, she’d far rather no forest cats had been caught at all—herself included. But she heard only the steady crunching of pellets as the other trapped cats ate their food.

“There’s about the same amount of rogues here as Clan cats,” Mistyfoot hissed.

“What are rogues?” Cody whispered in alarm.

“They’re cats who choose not to belong to a Clan,” Leafpaw explained. “Or to Twolegs, either.”

“They care only about themselves,” Mistyfoot added.

“Yeah, well, look where caring about your Clanmates got you,” muttered a reproachful voice near the floor of the nest.

Leafpaw strained her eyes and saw a scraggly old tom with ripped ears crouching in a cage on the floor.

“Ignore him,” spat Cody. “He’ll be no help.”

“Do you know him?” Leafpaw asked in surprise.

“He used to steal from my housefolks’ garbage,” Cody explained. “He may call himself a rogue, or whatever, but he’s no better than a rat, if you ask me.”

“Do you live in Twolegplace?” Cloudtail called to Cody. “Do you know a cat called Princess?”

“A tabby with white paws?”

“Yes.” Cloudtail’s eyes shone in the gloom. “She’s my mother! How is she?”

“She’s great,” Cody answered. “A dog came to live in the next house—a yappy thing—but Princess soon let him know it was her territory. She sat on the fence and hissed at him till he went running for cover!”

“Look,” Mistyfoot snapped. “This is all very heartwarming, but can we figure out a way to escape?”

“Does any cat know what the Twolegs are planning to do with us?” Brightheart’s voice was hoarse with terror.

“What do you think they’re going to do with us?” muttered the rogue tom. “They didn’t catch us and lock us up in this stinking hut because they’re fond of cats.”

“At least they’re feeding us,” Cody mewed quickly. “Even if it’s not quite as tasty as I’m used to.”

Leafpaw glanced at her. “Let’s concentrate on finding a way out of here, like Mistyfoot suggested,” she mewed.

“Why don’t you all just shut up?” hissed the rogue. “You’ll bring the Twoleg back with all your mewling.”

As he spoke the noise of heavy footsteps sounded outside, and Leafpaw froze. She pressed herself to the back of her cage as the Twoleg came in with another cage. Leafpaw could tell by the fear-scent that a she-cat crouched inside, but she didn’t recognise its smell. With a guilty pang of relief, she knew that the latest victim of the Twoleg traps was definitely not a Clan cat.