Chapter 1

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Thornclaw sighed and turned to see Brambleclaw padding across the camp towards him with a scowl across his tabby face.

"I'm just going hunting, Brambleclaw," replied Thornclaw, barely keeping the annoyance out of his voice.

"Really? Well, next time you decide to 'go hunting', perhaps you'd better check with me, first! I hope you haven't forgotten who's deputy here?"

Thornclaw felt a growl rumbling deep in his belly, but he pushed it away. "Do you want me to go hunting or not?" he asked.

Brambleclaw's eyes flashed and he drew himself up to his full height. "I suppose you may as well," he growled, glaring down at Thornclaw. "But you're a senior warrior, Thornclaw. You should know by now that you don't just go off hunting on your own. You ask me first!" Brambleclaw whipped around and stalked off, his tail in the air.

Thornclaw padded out of the camp, seething at Brambleclaw's superior attitude. The ThunderClan deputy was younger than he was, and the rule about not going hunting without asking the deputy wasn't even true! Brambleclaw had just made that up – Thornclaw knew the warrior code inside out, and he had gone hunting on his own many a time.

This wasn't the first time that Brambleclaw had treated cats unfairly – the deputy's bad-tempered behaviour was becoming regular. Much as he disliked it, Thornclaw wondered if it was something to do with how Squirrelflight, Brambleclaw's ex-mate, had lied to him about 'their' kits, which turned out to be Squirrelflight's sister, Leafpool's, who used to be the ThunderClan medicine cat. Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight had split up after that, and though Thornclaw was no expert on relationships, he supposed that Brambleclaw's feelings must have been hurt terribly by that incident when Hollyleaf, a warrior who was now dead, had revealed the truth about Leafpool's kits at a Gathering.

Thornclaw shook his head crossly. He didn't want to revisit that painful memory – it had been around the same time that his best friend, Ashfur, had been murdered. They had never even found out who the killer was – though Thornclaw was sure it was a WindClan cat, as Ashfur's body had been found on the WindClan border. But Firestar had been too cowardly, clinging to his old friendship with WindClan, to send a fighting patrol to get revenge.

Thornclaw sighed as he padded through the beautiful autumn trees, lit with late afternoon sunlight that warmed his golden-brown tabby fur. The reason he had even come out to hunt in the first place was because he was feeling very on the edge of the Clan at the moment, and he had wanted to get away from all the hustle and bustle of the camp to be on his own. His sister, Brightheart, who he used to be very close to, never had much time for him any more because she had a mate, Cloudtail, a daughter, Whitewing, and grand-kits, Dovewing and Ivypool. Dovewing and Ivypool were now starting up romantic relationships of their own: Tigerheart, a former ShadowClan cat, had even left his Clan and joined ThunderClan so that he could be with Dovewing. Surely it wouldn't be long until Brightheart became a great-grandmother.

Thornclaw's brother, Brackenfur, also had a mate, two daughters and two grand-kits, Cherrypaw and Molepaw. And Thornclaw's other sister, Cinderpelt had died many seasons ago.

Thornclaw didn't even have a mate yet, even though he was a senior warrior.

As a young warrior he had once been in love with Sorreltail, but Sorreltail had paid him no attention. She had fallen in love with Thornclaw's brother, Brackenfur instead, and become his mate. He had also liked Ferncloud, but she had gone with Dustpelt, and they now had two adult grand-children, Rosepetal and Toadstep.

Thornclaw was happy for his siblings, happy that they were happy. Most of the time. He had tried his hardest to be a good warrior, and after a while he had got used to being single. He had even tried to persuade himself that he didn't want a mate cooing over him and mewling kits following him around. And he hadn't been completely alone – he had had a great friend in Ashfur. Ashfur had never had a mate either, though he had come close to becoming mates with Squirrelflight, until the ginger she-cat went off with Brambleclaw.

And look where that relationship had led.

So Thornclaw had made himself think that he was better off without a mate, in case they turned on him like Squirrelflight had turned on both Ashfur and Brambleclaw – he knew first-hand from Ashfur how much it hurt when that happened. He was better off just sticking with good friends like Ashfur.

But then Ashfur had died.

Thornclaw had since made friends with Spiderleg, but it just wasn't quite the same. He missed Ashfur, he missed Cinderpelt, he missed his mentor, Mousefur, who had died a moon ago. He missed his closeness with Brightheart. And, though he had tried to fight it for so long, he knew that, deep down, he did long for the comfort of a mate and kits.

Thornclaw shook his head angrily, trying to drive his own self-pitying thoughts from his head. He had better get down to some serious hunting, or Brambleclaw would rip his ears off when he got back.

He stopped, feeling a soft, cool breeze blowing in from the lake ruffle his fur and tug gently on his whiskers. He took in a deep breath, searching for any prey-scent the breeze might carry. Instead a rank, menacing, all-too-familiar scent filled his nostrils, and he gagged.

ShadowClan?

Thornclaw's heart began to race. Could the scent be blowing over from ShadowClan territory? No, it was far too strong for that. And besides, the breeze was blowing from the lake, not ShadowClan territory.

Thornclaw pricked his ears. At first he only heard the familiar sounds of bird song and swaying trees. But then he picked out the faint, but definite, sounds of many cats prowling through terrain that they weren't used to, where they didn't want to be seen. And the scent was getting steadily stronger, so strong that it was almost overwhelming.

A ShadowClan invasion!