claw us as soon as they see us.”
“Let’s hope not,” Firestar replied with feeling. “If the Twolegs are threatening both our Clans, we can’t afford to waste our strength in fighting one another.”
Greystripe still looked doubtful, but he said nothing more as Firestar led them up the ravine towards the ShadowClan border. Leafpaw kept her ears pricked for any unusual sounds, and every hair on her pelt stood on end. The forest that had been safe for as long as she could remember was suddenly a frightening place, invaded by the Twolegs and their monsters.
Firestar led his patrol directly towards Snakerocks, and soon Leafpaw realised that he was heading for the spot where the monster had left the Thunderpath. Before they came in sight of it she picked up the reek of the monster and the rich earthy smell of the torn ground. When she came to the top of the slope above the Thunderpath, she stopped and peered through a clump of bracken.
Just below her, a swath of churned-up grass stretched as far as the Thunderpath. Trees lay on the ground, their roots tangling in the air. Everything was silent; Leafpaw couldn’t hear a single bird, or the scuffling of prey in the grass. But the monster had gone, and when she opened her jaws to drink in the air, the scent of Twolegs was stale. Even the reek of the monster was beginning to fade.
“They haven’t been here today,” Greystripe meowed. “Perhaps they’ve finished whatever they were doing.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Firestar replied tersely.
“This is . . . terrible.” Brackenfur sounded stunned. He had not been on the original patrol. “Why are they destroying the forest, Firestar?”
The tip of Firestar’s tail twitched back and forth. “Why do Twolegs do anything? If we knew that, our lives would be a lot easier.”
Skirting the edge of the damaged area, he led the way along the Thunderpath. Leafpaw’s belly lurched as she saw that more trees had been felled in ShadowClan’s territory, and more ground had been churned up.
Every one of the ThunderClan cats stopped to stare across the hard black surface. Brackenfur dropped into a crouch as if he were about to spring into attack, but there was no enemy to fight.
“Look at that!” Greystripe’s voice shook with horror. “You were right, Firestar. ShadowClan is having exactly the same trouble.”
“Then that should make it easier to talk to Blackstar.” Firestar was trying to sound confident, but his ears were laid flat against his head.
Cinderpelt gave the scarred area a long look before turning away, shaking her head. Though she said nothing, her blue eyes were filled with dread and confusion.
A monster roared by on the Thunderpath, smaller than the tree-eating monsters but still deafeningly noisy. Leafpaw flinched, half expecting it to veer into the forest where they were standing. But it stayed on the Thunderpath and growled away until it vanished among the trees. Another monster followed it; then a third raced along in the opposite direction.
“I don’t want to cross here,” Greystripe muttered, blinking grit out of his eyes.
Firestar nodded. “We’ll cross the stream by Fourtrees and go through the tunnel,” he decided. “And just hope we don’t meet any ShadowClan warriors on this side of the Thunderpath.”
When they reached the stream, Firestar crossed in a couple of bounds by a stepping-stone in the middle. Leafpaw kept an eye on her mentor, making sure that Cinderpelt crossed safely in spite of the old injury to her leg from a Thunderpath accident seasons before. Then she followed her across as Firestar climbed the opposite bank.
A light breeze was blowing towards them, carrying the rank scent of ShadowClan. At the border, Firestar and Greystripe renewed the scent markings, before Firestar led the way towards the tunnel under the Thunderpath.
To Leafpaw’s relief, there was no sign of ShadowClan cats in this section of their territory. The elders had told her many stories about that Clan’s dark-hearted history, from the murderer Brokenstar, who had killed his own father, to treacherous Tigerstar, who had made himself ShadowClan leader when he was exiled from ThunderClan. The present leader, Blackstar, hadn’t caused any trouble so far, but Leaf paw knew that Firestar didn’t really trust him. As she followed him into the tunnel, she admired him even more for his courage in trying to make allies of his old enemies for the sake of the forest.
Leafpaw shivered as she plunged into the gloomy silence beneath the Thunderpath, broken only by the drip of water and the plashing of their paws in the mud that covered the bottom of the tunnel. On the ShadowClan side the harsh scent was stronger than ever. The ground under Leafpaw’s paws was dank and marshy, covered with coarse scrubby grass. Here and there were pools fringed with reeds; there were few tall trees, unlike those that sheltered the ThunderClan camp. It felt like another world.
“The ShadowClan camp is this way,” Firestar meowed, heading for a clump of bushes. “Leafpaw, Cinderpelt, keep close to me. Greystripe and Brackenfur, spread out and keep watch. And remember that we’re not looking for trouble.”
Leafpaw padded behind Firestar as they headed deeper into ShadowClan territory. She hated the way her paws sank into mud at every step. She kept wanting to stop to flick away the moisture. It was hard to imagine ShadowClan cats putting up with it every day of their lives. Surely they would have grown webbed paws by now? Her muscles began to ache from the strain of keeping alert; when Brackenfur called out she jumped nervously and then hoped that no cat had noticed.
“Firestar, come and look at this.” Brackenfur pointed with his tail to a thin piece of wood, too smooth and regular to be the branch of a tree, standing upright in the ground about the height of a cat. Firestar padded over to and sniffed at it suspiciously. “It reeks of Twolegs,” he reported.
“There’s another over there,” Leafpaw called, spotting a matching stick a few fox-lengths further away. “And another—all in a line! What are they—”
Her voice died away. As she bounded towards the next piece of wood, the bushes in front of her rustled and three cats stepped out into the open. She quickly recognised Russetfur, the dark ginger she-cat who was ShadowClan’s deputy; the other warriors, a dark grey tom and a lean tabby with a torn ear, were strangers to her.
Leafpaw swallowed nervously.
Firestar was already bounding up to her. “Greetings, Russetfur,” he meowed.
“You’re trespassing on our territory,” snarled the Shadow -Clan deputy.
With a flick of her tail she summoned her warriors forwards. Leafpaw barely had time to dodge, as the dark grey tom sprang at her; she felt claws rake down her side as she rolled away and scrambled to her paws, trying to remember her fighting moves. She caught a glimpse of Cinderpelt and Russetfur stalking around each other; a tail-length away, Greystripe had the tabby pinned down, while Brackenfur and the other tom writhed together in a screeching bundle of grey and ginger fur.
For a moment she could not see Firestar. Glancing around wildly, she saw that he had leaped on to one of the fallen tree trunks. His voice rose in a yowl above the hissing and spitting.
“Stop!”
“You lot stay here,” Purdy
