Chapter 16

There were eleven of them now. Six OneClan, four DesertClan, and one stray kit. They obviously didn't trust each other; the two groups padded in separate groups, sometimes on opposite sides of the thunderpaths. Eventually, however, it became clear that walking like that made it too difficult to keep up with Rambo's twists and turns. The DesertClan patrol fell into step behind the OneClan cats.

Rainpaw kept an eye on the other group. He wanted to learn more about them. Their Clan was to be his father's next conquest, so this was a chance for him to bring some truly useful information to Froststar. Perhaps a chance to buy his way back into the leader's good graces. So far, he'd only been able to glean tidbits from their postures and tones. The black kit was apparently leading their mission, for reasons only StarClan knew. She was as timid as he'd expect a kit to be in her position. The older cats, obviously more experienced warriors, spent most of the walk hissing quietly at the fourth member of the group. The sand-colored she-cat slunk along at the back of their group. Her green eyes were defiant, but also curious. She kept studying them, like he was doing to the DesertClan cats.

She looked up just as he was surveying her and their eyes met. He twitched his whiskers quizzically. She was the first to glance away.

Rambo came to a halt at the head of their column. Rainpaw could hear the roaring of monsters thundering back and forth on a larger thunderpath than the ones they had been walking along. Rambo wasn't usually bothered by the monsters but it was obvious he was spooked by something. His tail was bristling and whipping back and forth.

"What is it, kit?" Tigerfrost growled.

Rambo gulped. "Well, that's the building over there," he said, flicking his tail towards a Twoleg nest across the thunderpath. It did indeed look like a tooth piercing the sky; the nest was a stark white color with a sharply steepled roof covered in pale shingles. A symbol glowing with unnatural light adorned the front of it. It looked something like a pawprint.

The gray kit pointed towards the base of the nest with his tail. "Bone and his gang live underneath the place. They have a way inside, too. It's how they steal food and get so fat. That place is horrible; the Twolegs keep cats in cages and poke and prod us with shiny claws. I got out when my Twolegs took me there, that's how I joined Bone's gang."

"Fascinating life story," Nightclaw drawled. Swanblossom hissed in annoyance. "Oh please, give it a rest, Swanblossom. If you want to be preachy, go become a medicine cat. What I'm interested in is how we're going to get to Bone to teach him a lesson if he's sitting pretty underneath this Twoleg nest."

Ten sets of eyes fixed on Rambo. The kit pressed his belly into the ground.

"Well we can't fight them head-on," came a voice from the back of the group. Rainpaw and the others turned his attention to the sand-colored she-cat. Her eyes held a thoughtful expression.

"This is their territory, so going right into their lair is out unless we're begging to lose. But maybe if we were able to draw most of them away…" she continued. Rainpaw looked her up and down. So she was in trouble with her Clanmates, but perhaps she was also smarter than she looked.

Heatherclaw wrapped her tail around her paws. "There are two things I know that are bound to set them off: injuring one of their patrols and insulting their leader. They'll be looking for us now that we fought off that group earlier. If we set up an ambush and do some real damage to some of them, we could anger them enough to come looking in force."

"That's all well and good, but we don't care about fighting them. We just need to get inside that nest and find our warm ice," the gray DesertClan warrior scoffed.

"Good luck doing that with a Clan of bloodthirsty rogues in your way," Nightclaw shot back.

The gray warrior bristled but restrained himself after a gentle warning from his black and white companion. Rainpaw watched all of this bickering with detached interest. It seemed that the plan had a good deal of risk involved. If he played this right, he might just be able to weaken DesertClan while they helped OneClan get their revenge.

"Here's what I suggest," he finally broke in. "The quickest of us form the ambush group. You DesertClan look fast; you, Crowtalon, and Swanblossom find a patrol, then lead their reinforcements on a chase. The rest of us will get into Bone's den and deal with him. Once that's over, feel free to get your warm ice and go on your way."

The sand-colored she-cat twitched her whiskers. "Sounds great, except I'm going with Nightpaw."

The gray warrior hissed. The DesertClan drew to the side to confer in a hushed huddle. While they did so, Heatherclaw sidled up to him. "Getting rid of your sister and not me? What's gotten into you, little kit?"

Rainpaw's ears grew warm under her piercing yellow gaze. The four scratches on her face were healing into jagged scars. "If that's how you want to see it, feel free. I just suggested what I thought was best."

She hummed. It was clear she didn't believe him. Rainpaw felt a thrill of irritation surge through him at that. It seemed every cat in this patrol was determined to patronize him. He bit back a hiss but was saved from responding by the DesertClan group returning their attention to the group.

"I'm tired of waiting here," growled Tigerfrost. "You've made your decision?"

"We have," said the gray tom. "We'll follow his plan, but like Dawnpaw said, she and Nightpaw are coming with you."

~O~

Dawnpaw crouched on a rooftop next to the gray tom with piercing blue eyes. The ambush patrol had left. They would raise the alarm as soon as they'd dealt with a patrol. Hopefully that would be enough to draw the cats out of the den as planned. For the moment, the only thing to do was wait while the moon slowly crept higher in the sky. If Dawnpaw was honest with herself, the chance to rest and eat a little was a huge relief. It made the tense wait more bearable.

"I've seen you staring at us," she said suddenly. "If you're going to be sizing me up, it might help to know my name's Dawnpaw."

"And I'm Rainpaw, but I don't see how that changes anything. If everything goes well tonight, we'll never cross paths again, right?"

Dawnpaw heard an edge to his voice that made her suspicious. His eyes were studiously fixed on the corner of the nest Rambo had told them to keep an eye on. "Right…" she agreed. "You know, you all are a strange bunch. None of you look alike at all. Well except maybe you and that white cat. You've got such long, silly fur."

That got a reaction from the close-lipped tom. His head whipped around, an indignant look in his wide eyes. "Silly? It's warm. You try living in the shadow of a mountain without thick fur."

"A mountain?"

"StarClan, yes, you know—like a tall pile of rock? It gets covered in snow and ice. My father is from there, my mother from the forest at the foot of the mountain. We've come a long way from there, but I'd still expect any cat to know what a mountain is." Rainpaw shook his head.

Dawnpaw felt the fur along her back begin to bristle. He was so condescending! "I'm not an idiot, you know. We just don't have those in the desert. That doesn't explain the others, though."

"Oh they're from all over. Clans that have, uh, joined OneClan."

Dawnpaw opened her mouth to ask more questions about this new cryptic comment but he hissed for her to be quiet. A cat was limping across the thunderpath towards the den. He entered it and several heartbeats later, cats poured out from a well concealed hole in the corner of the Twoleg nest. The green light from that unnatural symbol hanging on the wall of the nest gave them an eerie, shadowed appearance as they streaked off into the night with cries for blood.

The big tabby, the one she'd heard the OneClan cats call Tigerfrost, yowled the signal once they were out of sight. The seven cats streaked across the deserted thunderpath. Rambo paused at the corner and crouched down. Dawnpaw nodded at the kit. Hopefully he was smart enough to slip away from all of these OneClan cats while they kept the rogues busy. The six Clan cats darted through the opening.

The den was low and cramped. Wooden beams supported a wooden floor above them. Light drifted through from above to illuminate a mess of nests made of rags, straw, and other scraps that smelled like they had been dragged out of the shiny bags. The bones of prey littered the floor.

Across the room, sat on a box that raised him above the clutter, was a massive brown cat with mismatched eyes. He had his claws sunk into a juicy rat; he threw it to the side and hissed for the few minions left in the den. "I recognize some of your smells," the tom said, a sneer twisting his muzzle. "Here to avenge that stupid yellow she-cat? They never last long when I get their guts on the outside."

The black she-cat with yellow eyes snarled. "Bone, we presume? We'll take the price of her wounds out of you in blood."

"It will go about as well as the last time, I'm sure," he replied lazily. "Victor, Rusty, get them."

Dawnpaw heard Nightpaw squeak behind her. She glanced at Rainpaw and the other Clan cats, then the advancing rogues, and decided it was time to put her own plan into action. "Run for that light up there," she hissed at Nightpaw. There wasn't time to say anything else. The battle had already begun.