Chapter 10

Sunhigh beat down on the patrol as they padded through the thick undergrowth. Heat was trapped in Lionpaw's naturally thick pelt and he wished he could shake it off like rainwater, but he knew it wouldn't go away. He followed behind his mentor as the patrol cut an imposing path for the old Twoleg nest.

Lionpaw's pelt was prickling with anticipation as the patrol neared their destination. It would be the first time he had been anywhere near the TigerClan border since the incident with Breezepaw two days ago, and he was eager to prove to Sorreltail that he wasn't just a kit bumbling around in the woods – he was a warrior!

Not only that, but this patrol was being led by Onestar – something the LionClan leader hardly did anymore. When he had insisted he needed some fresh air, half the Clan lined up to go on patrol with him – all the apprentices were bristling at the chance, but Lionpaw was chosen to go, and that made him feel special and proud. Onestar had chosen him to go on patrol! It had put a skip in his step for sure.

With them were Ashfoot, Onestar's friend and deputy, Graystripe, and Willowfoot. It wasn't Willowfoot's first patrol, but Lionpaw could hear Graystripe whispering tips and other instructions to her as if he were her mentor. Lionpaw thought it great that the whole Clan was coming together to help bring Willowfoot up to speed, but he worried that maybe she was too soft for the fighting that TigerClan brought.

Yet Willowfoot was unperturbed, and the group marched on until the dilapidated Twoleg nest appeared over the next slope. Onestar stopped the patrol with a raised tail and they stood staring at it.

Lionpaw felt Sorreltail stiffen beside him and he felt sympathy cut through his heart. Here was where TigerClan had injured not only her daughter Cinderpaw, but brutally murdered her mate Brackenfur. Mouseflight had also been killed here, dragged off into the bushes and attacked relentlessly. Not only that, but TigerClan had marked every inch of the place in their scent and utterly destroyed Leafpool's herb garden, cutting LionClan off from a plentiful supply of vital herbs.

This was not a happy place.

"At least their stink seems to have finally gone," Ashfoot determined. Her blue eyes were hard. "Perhaps now Leafpool can resume her work here?"

"It's going to take a lot more strength than Leafpool and her apprentices have to put this place back into working order," Willowfoot pointed out glumly. "Twolegs find it easy because they're so big and have tools, but all we have are our paws and teeth. She'll need help."

"And she'll get it, should she want it," Onestar decreed. "Dustpelt may be an elder but he's still the foremost expert in building defensive structures. With his help I think we might be able to make this place safe again."

All fell quiet, and Lionpaw realized that everyone was looking at Sorreltail, whose eyes were locked upon the place where her mate had died. No one said a thing, but Lionpaw knew that they were all thinking about how Sorreltail must feel about the place.

It was Graystripe who broke the silence: "Let's set our markers and go," he suggested. His voice was brusque – Brackenfur had been his apprentice, and a good friend. "Still a lot of ground to cover."

"Agreed," Onestar decided. He twitched his tail and he and Graystripe set off to do so. Ashfoot kept a sharp eye, her gaze piercing the undergrowth for any TigerClan ambushers. Lionpaw planted himself to wait, knowing that if Onestar had wanted him to go down with them he would have said so.

Willowfoot shifted behind Lionpaw and settled beside Sorreltail. Lionpaw's ear twitched as Willowfoot murmured gently, "I'm sorry. This place must bring you so much pain."

"It does," Sorreltail replied curtly. "But I manage."

Lionpaw glanced at Willowfoot, but the pale she-cat did not look stung by Sorreltail's tone. She seemed to glow with understanding, and Lionpaw sensed that she only wanted friendship from the tortoiseshell she-cat.

"Graystripe told me about Brackenfur," Willowfoot went on. "He… sounded like a noble warrior."

"The noblest, next to Firestar," Sorreltail agreed. A hint of pride glimmered in her sorrowful amber eyes.

"I'm sorry," Willowfoot offered. "I wish I got to know him."

Sorreltail's eyes flashed, and she meowed gently, "So do I."

Lionpaw was shocked by the warmth of her tone, and he heard Willowfoot purr gently. Lionpaw didn't know Sorreltail well, but it seemed like she was finally getting over Brackenfur's loss – the pain would still be there, but she seemed able to talk about it more openly now.

I hope that sort of thing never happens to me, Lionpaw thought. I never want to lose someone I love.

The undergrowth rustled as Onestar and Graystripe returned. LionClan scent was prominent again and with a nod, Onestar led the way down the slope. They passed the Twoleg nest and headed for the border.

Lionpaw's nose wrinkled and his spine bristled. TigerClan-scent was strong here, very strong. And fresh. He instinctively unsheathed his claws and turned to Sorreltail as they passed a fern drenched in TigerClan-scent.

As if she knew his concern, Sorreltail affirmed, "Yes, they're fresh alright."

Onestar paused the patrol to sniff at the freshly-marked border. "Doesn't look like they've strayed," he growled, "but be alert just in case."

"I'm shocked," Ashfoot confessed. "After their loss, you'd think they'd be vying for more territory to make up for it."

"Silence," Onestar ordered. "The patrol can't be far away – let's keep marking and see what happens."

Lionpaw nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. Despite his extraordinary abilities, running across a TigerClan patrol still struck fear in him. Once I can control my power, though, they'll be afraid of me.

He followed the patrol. Onestar and Graystripe marked the border at every TigerClan marking, sometimes twice as if to challenge. They even allowed Lionpaw to mark one, Onestar's reasoning being that it would upset TigerClan to think that an apprentice was willing to challenge them so heartily.

Soon enough, though, the patrol spotted rustling on the other side. Onestar raised his tail and the patrol went quiet as a dark ginger she-cat slid out of the undergrowth.

Lionpaw froze. He knew that cat – that was Russetfur, one of TigerClan's deputies. He'd seen her at the very last Gathering, when he and Heatherpaw had used the tunnels to sneak out to the island when they weren't supposed to. That Gathering had not ended well, and Lionpaw still dreamed of the fighting sometimes.

Behind Russetfur padded four other warriors, all lean and well-muscled – two toms and two other she-cats. Lionpaw didn't recognize them, but he did see that, thanks to him, the LionClan patrol outnumbered the TigerClan one. That gave him a bit of satisfaction, but it was swallowed up by the tense atmosphere.

"Well lookit here," one of the toms, a smoky-black cat, sneered. "The wind stank, and now we know why!"

Lionpaw bristled, and he wasn't the only one. Ashfoot was offended, along with Sorreltail. Graystripe and Onestar were simply tense, their muscles prepared. Willowfoot to her credit put off an air of confidence.

Onestar curled his lip. He responded, "We were just trying to find the source of the dead-badger scent on our territory." He looked the gray warrior up and down and sneered, "Looks like we found it."

The gray warrior bristled, and the TigerClan patrol rippled with offense. The warrior growled, "That was a terrible comeback."

"Shut up, Smokefoot," Russetfur growled. "We're just here to mark the border and be done." Lionpaw frowned, noting that the ginger she-cat looked tired – they all did. How long had they been walking?

Onestar dipped his head and grunted, "Go on, then."

Russetfur lashed her tail but seemed content to leave it at that – yet as she turned away, one of the she-cats, a tortoiseshell, lifted her head and commented, "One of your scents is familiar… I've smelled it before."

Lionpaw flinched as her eyes turned to him. She snidely chuckled, "I wonder – was LionClan trying to steal our territory or are their apprentices just stupid?" She looked Lionpaw up and down. "I'm betting on the latter."

Hot underneath his fur, Lionpaw fluffed up in offense. He was about ready to spit at the tortoiseshell when Sorreltail touched his flank with her tail. It wasn't worth it to try and defend himself here – the TigerClan cats would only laugh, and make it worse. It didn't matter that Lionpaw knew he and Breezepaw hadn't actually crossed the border.

"He didn't cross your border," Sorreltail offered sternly. "Leave it be."

Smokefoot fluffed his neck fur. "Why?" he growled. "Your apprentices need to be taught a lesson. In TigerClan we teach respect!"

"Enough, Smokefoot," insisted the other tom. He looked tired of everything at the moment, his tabby pelt dull like an elder's. Lionpaw wondered how old he was, and marveled at how far he must have come just to mark a border.

Smokefoot, however, was obviously a warrior fond of being agitated. He turned to the tabby and snarled, "Where are your claws, Oakfur? Or are you just as afraid of a fight as LionClan?"

Oakfur narrowed his eyes. "Now see here!" he growled.

"Enough!" Ashfoot snapped. She stepped forward and snapped, "Go argue somewhere else. If any of you put a paw across our border, there will be a fight – got it?" Her eyes narrowed at Smokefoot as she added threateningly, "You know how well that went last time."

Lionpaw's heart dropped as Ashfoot's threat didn't have the intended effect on Smokefoot, or the rest of the TigerClan patrol. Infuriated, Smokefoot padded right up to the border and stated, "TigerClan is unstoppable," before placing one single paw over the scent line.

Ashfoot lunged forward with a roar and caught him by the throat, and suddenly the border-line exploded into battle.

Lionpaw was suddenly swept up in the rush. Ashfoot and Smokefoot wrestled on the border, squashing ferns beneath their bodies. Onestar, with a roar, was on top of the tortoiseshell who had pointed out Lionpaw, clawing at her sides. Graystripe and Willowfoot were teamed up against the other she-cat. Sorreltail wrestled with Russetfur.

Before he could plan his movements, Oakfur, the old tom, was on top of him. Lionpaw felt his claws pierce his dense golden pelt, but felt no pain. Satisfaction rushed up through his limbs like cold water on a hot day as he let out a roar and slashed at Oakfur's ears. The old tom screeched in sudden pain, blood dripping down his face, and backed off.

Lionpaw got to his paws. Anger surged through him, anger and pride – how dare they cross the border, after all they'd done? How dare they think they could challenge him when he was undefeatable? Lionpaw slammed into Oakfur and pressed him to the ground, claws digging into the old cat's ribcage.

Oakfur did not ask for mercy, and it was clear he had far more experience in battle than Lionpaw. As the screeching of the warriors battling rose around them, Oakfur twisted, jerking Lionpaw off of him. Okafur got to his paws once again, fur torn from his sides, and the two circled one another, hissing and spitting.

Impatience flared in Lionpaw and he leaped. Oakfur was ready – he ducked and rolled, slashing at Lionpaw's underbelly as he went. Lionpaw felt nothing, and knew Oakfur hadn't counted on that. While the older warrior was reeling with shock, Lionpaw lunged and dug viciously into his shoulder, tearing out a hunk of fur and leaving a patch of skin to redden and bleed behind.

Oakfur hissed in pain and slashed at Lionpaw's face. Despite his invulnerability, Lionpaw still ducked – the thought of claws coming into contact with his eyes wasn't a pleasant one. Oakfur took that advantage and bowled Lionpaw over, rolling him into a bramble bush.

Lionpaw recovered, but found himself tangled in the brambles. He tugged and tugged at his trapped limbs, feeling bramble thorns digging into his fur. He cursed – his invulnerability only spared him from pain, it seemed, not tangling brambles.

"You've got some decent moves, kit," Oakfur spat, approaching the brambles. "But this is where it ends!"

Lionpaw's heart dropped, and suddenly he recalled the horrible stories of Mouseflight's death – trapped in the bushes, all alone and isolated from the fight. Outnumbered and outclassed, and then killed without a second thought.

The rage in Oakfur's eyes died as a white blur bowled him over. Lionpaw was confused – there were no all-white cats on the patrol – until his eyes adjusted to the battle and he saw that it was Cloudtail wrestling with Oakfur!

With a warning call, more warriors flooded in – Brightheart skidded beneath Russetfur and flipped her onto her back so Sorreltail could strike a critical blow, and Weaselfur grabbed Smokefoot by the haunches and let Ashfoot get the advantage. Reinforcements had come!

Lionpaw untangled himself from the brambles and leaped back into the fray. Onestar let out a grunt of satisfaction as Lionpaw slid to his leader's side, delivering a blow to the tortoiseshell's cheek that sent her screeching back in retreat.

"Good job," Onestar praised.

"Thank you," Lionpaw replied.

The battle's rage slowed to a crawl as one by one TigerClan retreated over their border. Soon enough only Russetfur was left, and when she was released from Sorreltail and Brightheart's gasp she hissed, "This isn't over!"

"Tell that to Hawkstar!" Onestar spat. "Tell him how you lost!"

Russetfur's eyes burned with fury, but she fled into TigerClan territory, disappearing into the bracken.

With the danger over, Lionpaw sat down on his paws. His whole body ached, but the thrill of the fight still coursed through him. Every sense felt like it was lit on fire, sharp and intense and amazing all at the same time. The patrol was gathering themselves up, and all bore a scratch or bite – but Lionpaw felt only the hot breeze on his fur.

"Everyone all right?" Cloudtail asked.

There were mumbles of assent and positive answers – but Willowfoot pointed out, "I got a bad scratch on one side, but that's all."

"Good," Cloudtail offered.

Lionpaw looked at the silvery she-cat. Her injuries from the battle had been more severe, but it seemed like she was picking up LionClan defensive techniques well. Even for a kittypet, she was tough.

Cloudtail looked to Onestar. "What started this?" he wondered.

"TigerClan," Onestar replied. He bore a new scratch on his flank, alarmingly red. "They stepped over the border, and we had to challenge them."

Lionpaw flicked an ear, and Cloudtail's eyes flashed. Lionapw frowned. Ashfoot egged them on, though, he thought. The fault is in both of us, not just TigerClan. Yet he knew better than to say anything. His opinion wasn't worth much with all these warriors around.

"Bramblestar needs to know," Cloudtail decided. "Brightheart and I will go with you, Onestar, to make the report. Weaselfur will continue with the patrol… unless Willowfoot is too injured to continue?"

The silver she-cat looked at Cloudtail in a way that dared him to go on. She said tautly, "I can go on, as far as necessary."

Cloudtail nodded. "All right," he said. He turned to Onestar and meowed, "Let's get going then."

The three of them left, leaving the patrol to pick themselves up. Willowfoot's wound was cleaned and she could stand, and she absolutely refused any sort of aid, even from Graystripe. Ashfoot took the lead and the patrol resumed along the border.

Lionpaw padded up to Weaselfur. The tom's tail was missing some fur, but he seemed all right. It was curious to Lionpaw, though – Cloudtail and Brightheart often hunted alone, confident in their own ability to work seamlessly together. Guests weren't usually invited – so why Weaselfur?

"You were with Cloudtail and Brightheart this morning?" Lionpaw asked. "Hunting?"

Weaselfur nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "It was… well, it was more intimidating than that battle, that's for sure."

"Oh?" Sorreltail chuckled. "They aren't badgers, though Cloudtail's attitude often stinks like one."

"Well…" Weaselfur looked a little embarrassed at all the sudden attention. Quickly, he meowed, "Since Whitewing is having my kits, I thought I ought to get to know her parents!"

"Kits?" Graystripe's eyes widened.

Lionpaw was stunned, too – Whitewing and Weaselfur had been close since the battle, but he hadn't expected kits so soon, if at all.

Weaselfur nodded. His expression turned guarded, and he seemed anxious as to what would be said next – yet Ashfoot kept her eyes on the patrol, and Willowfoot seemed preoccupied as well. Only Sorreltail and Graystripe offered him congratulations.

"T-Thanks," Weaselfur offered. It seemed like more than he'd expected, and he put his head down to stare at his paws as if he needed to make sure they went where they were supposed to.

Lionpaw frowned. He'd thought that an announcement of future kits would break the tense atmosphere – instead, it seemed to amplify it.

How could kits be a bad thing? He wondered.


"That fight was irresponsible," Bramblestar insisted hotly. "You shouldn't have allowed it to happen, Onestar!"

Onestar wasn't listening. Bramblestar had been expecting Onestar's usual dose of vitriol, but the lean tom was pacing the Highledge den, his eyes wide and shining with determination.

"They're weak!" Onestar raved. "Weak, I tell you!" His pawsteps kicked up dust as he padded back and forth. "They were thin; the drought must be affecting them! And it's got to be hard to patrol all that land when there's no group in the pines to do it for them."

"What are you getting at?" Bramblestar wondered.

Onestar raised his head, suddenly listening now that Bramblestar seemed interested. "They're weak, and if this drought continues they'll be vulnerable!" His eyes shone like stars. "StarClan must have sent this drought to help us win this war!"

"Onestar," Bramblestar began, "the drought -"

"Enough, enough," Onestar insisted, cutting him off. Bramblestar frowned in irritation as Onestar meowed, "We'll leave them stew for a while, yes… and when the drought has parched them of their lake and their prey and the patrols have sapped them of all their strength, we'll strike! One decisive blow, and the war will be done!"

Concern flooded Bramblestar. Onestar was ecstatic at the thought, but it disturbed Bramblestar just how willing Onestar was to watch TigerClan starve in the drought. Just how far did he plan to take this idea of his?

"We can attack their patrols now and then," Onestar added enthusiastically. "Keep them frustrated. Keep Hawkstar angry at them… and when the time is right the TigerClan warriors will be messing up left and right! It's perfect!"

"It sounds so, yes," Bramblestar offered worriedly. It was a decent strategy – waiting had done nothing but bring LionClan pain in this war but it seemed like with the drought waiting was ideal. "But…"

"We will discuss it more later!" Onestar decided. He lashed his tail triumphantly. "Yes! We'll make a proper plan soon. When the Clan hears this… can you imagine their relief?"

Bramblestar nodded. He knew that the Clan would welcome any way to end the war – but relying on the drought to do most of the work? Even if the drought lasted long enough, warriors would still have to pay in blood to get the victory. A single dark cloud on the horizon could ruin it all and plunge LionClan and TigerClan back into their endless war.

Onestar turned away and left the den before Bramblestar could offer his opinions. Bramblestar breathed a heavy sigh – this war was having a drastic effect on the both of them, but Onestar seemed to be more addled by the pressure than Bramblestar could ever realize.

He kneaded his paws into the sandy floor. Something Onestar said bothered him – that StarClan had sent the drought. His spine prickled at the thought – did StarClan really have that kind of power?

And if they did, he thought worriedly, why would they inflict the drought on LionClan as well?