"Oh!" Dovewing was obviously surprised by this idea. "Okay, I'd be glad to help," she agreed.

By this time the early patrols were ready to set out. Lionblaze was taking his cats to the WindClan border, to check the crossing place and to make sure there were no new WindClan scents. Squirrelflight was leading cats along the ShadowClan border, while Brightheart and Birchfall were both heading up hunting patrols in the woods beyond the territory.

"We're all being asked to travel much farther than we're used to," Squirrelflight murmured as the patrols set out.

Bramblestar nodded, his gaze traveling across his thin, weary Clanmates. "We have no choice," he reminded his deputy, feeling bad for them but knowing that they would all do what they had to, to protect the Clan and survive.

He took Dovewing and the kittypets into the trees in the direction of the ShadowClan border, treading in Squirrelflight's paw steps but letting her patrol draw ahead. Once they were well away from the tunnel among dense undergrowth, he halted.

"First you have to learn the hunter's crouch," he began. "That's essential for every ThunderClan cat-or any cat who happens to be living in ThunderClan for a time," he added as Minty opened her jaws to object. "Dovewing, show them how."

Dovewing crouched down with her paws drawn up under her and her hind legs braced for a pounce.

"See how she's ready to leap?" Bramblestar meowed. "She's putting all her strength into her hind legs-like this." He pressed himself to the ground, copying Dovewing's crouch. "Dovewing, show them the pounce."

Dovewing sprang forward, her forepaws extended and her claws ready to grip her quarry.

"Great," Bramblestar commented. "See how her forepaws flashed out? Her prey wouldn't have a chance."

"Now you try," Dovewing suggested.

Bramblestar stayed in the crouching position so that the kittypets could copy him. All three looked nervous, but they wriggled into position and tucked in their paws neatly.

"Very good," Dovewing mewed, pacing around them and checking their position. "Frankie, pull your hind paws a bit farther in. That's right."

"Excellent." Bramblestar rose and arched his back in a stretch, loosening up after the crouch. "Now let's try pouncing." He peeled a bunch of moss off a nearby tree root and padded forward until he emerged in a small clearing. "Suppose this moss is a mouse," he continued, dropping the bundle in the middle. "I want you to stalk it, crouch, and then pounce."

"Is this what you do with your apprentices?" Jessy asked.

"Yes," Bramblestar replied.

Jessy let out a snort that was half-amused, though her tail-tip flicked frustratedly. "But we're not apprentices!" she pointed out. "We've all hunted before, whatever you think of our skills. Why don't you let us show you what we can do?"

"I don't think-" Bramblestar began, his neck fur beginning to rise defensively.

"That's a great idea," Dovewing interrupted. "That way, we'll see what we need to teach you."

Bramblestar nodded, appreciating the sense in what his Clanmate said. "Okay. Frankie, you go first. Can you scent any prey?"

The tabby tom cast him a nervous glance, then stood with his ears p.r.i.c.ked and his jaws parted to taste the air. Bramblestar was slightly surprised that he knew what to do.

After a moment Frankie turned to him. "I think there's a squirrel under there," he mewed, angling his ears toward a holly bush at the edge of the clearing.

"I think so, too," Bramblestar replied; he had picked up the scent several heartbeats before Frankie. "See if you can catch it."

Forgetting all about stalking, Frankie tore across the clearing with a yowl, startling the squirrel, which shot out from beneath the holly bush and raced around a bramble thicket with its tail streaming out behind it. Frankie hurtled after it, crashing through the brambles, only to halt in frustration as the squirrel swarmed up the trunk of a nearby beech tree and vanished among the branches.

His head and tail drooping, Frankie trudged back to the other cats. "I'm sorry, I messed up," he muttered. He looked thoroughly depressed, and he had lost several tufts of fur in his mad dash through the brambles.

"It wasn't so bad," Dovewing meowed bracingly. "Okay, you didn't catch it, but you picked up its scent quickly, and you kept after it, even with brambles in the way. You just need to work on being quieter."

Frankie perked up. "I'll remember that," he promised.

Dovewing gave him a nod and turned to Minty. "You try now."

Minty looked even more nervous than Frankie, but she stood still with her ears p.r.i.c.ked just as he had done, though she forgot to taste the air for scent. She kept jumping at the sound of creaking branches or rustling leaves, as if she thought a fox or a badger might be sneaking up on her. At last she glanced at Bramblestar and whispered, "I think I've found something."

Bramblestar was confused. He couldn't scent any nearby prey at all. Don't tell me that kittypet is better at this than me! "Okay, go ahead," he mewed.

Minty started to stalk forward, setting her paws down lightly. At least she's learned something from what Frankie did, Bramblestar thought, still wondering what she thought she was going to catch.

Then Minty dropped into an untidy hunter's crouch, and jumped forward with her forepaws stretching out. "Got it!" she yowled as she landed, sinking her claws into something brown, almost hidden by an arching fern. "Oh . . ." she added a moment later, looking disconcerted.

Bramblestar padded over to look. He hid an amused purr when he saw that Minty's prey was actually an old log half-buried in the gra.s.s.

"I thought it was a rat," she murmured, scrabbling her paws in embarra.s.sment.

"We don't get many rats in this part of the forest," Bramblestar told her. "But don't worry, Minty. That was pretty good. If it had been a rat, you'd have stood a good chance of catching it."

Minty looked unconvinced.

"My turn now," Jessy announced.

Instead of standing still, she began slipping quietly through the undergrowth, her paws hardly touching the ground, while she stared up into the trees. Bramblestar and the others followed her at a distance. Eventually Jessy froze, her gaze fixed on a low branch where a thrush was perched.

Hunting in trees? Bramblestar thought. Not a chance!

To his surprise, Jessy leaped up the tree trunk, quick as a fox. The thrush spotted her, and with a loud alarm call fluttered away into the next tree. Without hesitating, Jessy ran out along the branch and jumped after the thrush, pinning it to the next branch with one paw. The thrush struggled and nearly got free; Jessy almost overbalanced as she lowered her head and managed to bite it in the throat. She hopped down neatly with the thrush in her jaws and dropped it at Bramblestar's paws.

Bramblestar thought he had never seen a cat look so smug. And I told her I bet she'd never caught anything!

"Wow, that was great!" Dovewing exclaimed.

"Oh, Jessy's a brilliant hunter," Frankie told them. "And she loves to climb. Hey, Jessy, did you tell them about the time your housefolk thought you were stuck on the roof?"

Jessy tossed her head. "I can't believe they thought I couldn't get down!"

"Yes," Frankie purred, "but you could have shown them before they climbed onto the roof themselves."

Jessy swished her tail and looked innocent.

"I shouldn't have dismissed your skills," Bramblestar admitted to her. "That's a rare skill, being able to jump between trees. Firestar wanted ThunderClan cats to learn, but it doesn't come easily to us."

"I've never felt comfortable being off the ground," Dovewing agreed. "I don't have wings, in spite of my name."

"Maybe I should give you some lessons," Jessy suggested. There was a teasing glint in her eye.

"Maybe you should," Bramblestar mewed, meeting her gaze. "Meanwhile let's head for the ShadowClan border and see what else we can find. Jessy, if you scratch some earth over that thrush, we'll pick it up on the way back."

As the five cats headed off, Bramblestar felt more relaxed than he had for days. It was good to be part of a patrol, without the weight of his duties as Clan leader. And he was impressed by how well Jessy was fitting in.

Every cat was keeping a lookout for prey; Dovewing was the first to spot a shrew scrabbling in the gra.s.s at the foot of a mossy bank. "Frankie," she murmured, angling her ears toward the tiny creature. "See that? Try catching it. And remember . . . quiet!"

Looking determined, the gray tabby tom crept toward the shrew. He remembered to set his paws down carefully, but he had forgotten about his tail, which swept over a clump of long gra.s.s. The shrew darted away as the shadow of the gra.s.s fell across it. Frankie hurled himself at it in an enormous leap, but his claws. .h.i.t the ground just short of his prey. The shrew veered away in a panic, right into the claws of Dovewing, who killed it with one quick blow.

"I missed it!" Frankie wailed.

"But you drove it straight into my paws," Dovewing pointed out. "We make a great team!"

A pleased purr rose in Frankie's throat.

"What about you, Minty?" Bramblestar asked. "Can you spot anything? Or hear anything?"

Minty gazed around confusedly. "It's all so strange," she confessed.

Bramblestar twitched his tail in rising frustration. Can't she even tell the difference between a branch creaking and a mouse scuffling?

He opened his jaws, ready for a harsh comment, when Dovewing stepped between him and Minty, motioning him away with a jerk of her head. "Come on, Minty," she mewed. "Let's listen together. Can you hear that loud creaking noise? The one that's repeated every couple of heartbeats?"

Minty listened for a moment, then nodded.

"What do you think that is?" Dovewing asked.

"Er . . . a branch moving in the wind?"

"Very good," Dovewing praised her. "Now . . . that rustling sound, just behind you. No-don't turn your head and look!"

"Ferns." This time Minty sounded more confident.

Bramblestar realized that Dovewing was drawing on her own experience of being able to hear everything. Her patience with Minty was clearly comforting the kittypet, making her feel less out of place.

Frankie was busy practicing his stalking and crouching, so Bramblestar padded on slowly with Jessy by his side. "Where did you learn to climb?" he asked the brown she-cat.

"My mother taught me," Jessy replied. "I've always dreamed of living among trees!"

"Well, now you are," Bramblestar purred. "And it's even better than this when the lake isn't flooded." Halting to point through the woods with his tail, he added, "There are lots of different trees down there, closer to the sh.o.r.e. Well, there used to be. I don't know if they'll survive being underwater."

"You're really worried that the water won't go down, aren't you?" Jessy guessed.

"Yes, I am," Bramblestar meowed. "Not just for ThunderClan, but for all the Clans."

Together the two cats wandered on in companionable silence. But while they were still some way from the ShadowClan border, Bramblestar heard a faint hiss coming from the trees ahead. Pausing to taste the air, he stiffened, feeling every hair on his pelt begin to rise.

ShadowClan scent!

Bramblestar suspected that a ShadowClan patrol had crossed the border. He motioned Jessy to get back with a wave of his tail, wishing that he weren't stuck out here alone with only a kittypet.

Then a tortoisesh.e.l.l head peered out from behind a bush, and Bramblestar let out a puff of relief.

"Tawnypelt!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"

CHAPTER 19.

As Tawnypelt emerged from behind the bush, Bramblestar was aware of Jessy stiffening, her claws sliding out and her neck fur bristling as if she was ready for a fight.

Of course, Bramblestar thought, she's heard all about how hostile ShadowClan is, and she saw the WindClan intruders for herself.

"It's okay, Jessy," he meowed. "This is Tawnypelt, my sister. Wait here while I speak to her." He padded forward the few paw steps that brought him close to his sister. Tawnypelt was looking very thin, her tortoisesh.e.l.l fur ruffled and her eyes wide. "Is Rowanstar okay?" Bramblestar asked.

"He's as well as the rest of us," Tawnypelt replied. "But . . . oh, Bramblestar, ShadowClan is in big trouble. We've lost our camp and nearly all our hunting grounds. Our territory is so low-lying that the water has covered nearly all of it."

"You're right, that's bad," Bramblestar mewed. "ThunderClan is struggling, too. We've started hunting beyond the top border; has Rowanstar thought of doing that?"

"Yes, but our patrols ran into some trouble. . . ." Tawnypelt lowered her head, looking uncomfortable, and scrabbled her paws in the gra.s.s.

"What kind of trouble?" Bramblestar prompted her.

Tawnypelt took a deep breath. "There are kittypets who seem to think that part of the forest belongs to them," she told her brother. "They attacked our patrols."

"Kittypets?" Bramblestar blinked in surprise. "Not the ones who live in the Twoleg nest in your territory? I thought we'd taught them a lesson."

Tawnypelt shook her head. "No, they went off with their Twolegs when the water started to rise. These are different cats."

"And they managed to chase off ShadowClan warriors?" Bramblestar found that hard to believe.

"There were a lot of them!" Tawnypelt protested. "And we . . . we're so hungry all the time, we're not as strong as we were."

Bramblestar could understand that. Compa.s.sion for his sister clawed at him; he could see she was torn between pride and the desperate need for help. "What do you want me to do?" he meowed. "Do you want me to give you some of our fresh-kill? That could be difficult. . . ."

Before Tawnypelt could reply, Jessy bounded up to his side. "Hi!" she mewed to Tawnypelt.

Bramblestar wished that the kittypet had stayed where he left her. "This is Jessy," he told his sister. "She's staying with us for a while."

"I live with my housefolk over there," Jessy added with a wave of her tail across the lake. "But they left when the floods came."

"You're a kittypet?" Tawnypelt's eyes stretched wide as she gazed over Bramblestar's shoulder. "And there are more of you?"

Glancing back, Bramblestar saw that Frankie and Minty had appeared from the trees with Dovewing.

"Are you completely mouse-brained?" Tawnypelt yelped. "Giving food and shelter to kittypets at a time like this?"