Maplepaw ran, hardly noticing where she was going, her limbs stiff with panic and confusion. She could almost see Frecklepaw's thick, salty blood coating the brambles at her feet. I wanted to kill her! Could she really do a thing like that? Kill a Clanmate? Was she born evil, like the big brown tabbies they whispered about in the nursery? Or was there just something wrong with her? The lake stretched before her, full and still and glassy. She paused, confused. Pine trees rose behind her. Where am I? A stream burbled innocently at her feet.
"Trespasser!"
Maplepaw jumped, startled. Oh no! A big brown tom stood over her, his hackles raised. His eyes were dark orange, almost red, and he smelled like fish. CrookedClan!
"What are you doing on our territory?" The tom hissed, arching his back.
"I-I didn't realize I'd crossed the scent line," Maplepaw said, shrinking away from him.
"You mean our scent markers? Or BlackClan's?" His eyes searched the trees, mouth open for scent. "Is Yellowstar teaching her apprentices to disregard the warrior code entirely?"
"Well, well," a mew rasped from behind him. "What have you caught, Dustapple? A FireClan apprentice?" A big gray tom, his muzzle flecked with white, padded through the undergrowth. His eyes, cloudy with age, pierced Maplepaw. "Well, well, well."
"It doesn't look like there's more of them," said the first tom. "We'd better take her to Troutstar."
"No! Please!" What would Yellowstar think? What would Redpoppy think? "I'll go home!"
"Too late for that," hissed the gray tom. He nudged her forward, deeper into CrookedClan territory. They flanked her on either side. She wrinkled her nose at the rank smell of fish.
"Stonewhisker! Dustapple!" A pale tabby she-cat called from the river. "What's this?" Her eyes were wide. "An invasion?"
"Just a stray," said Dustapple evenly. "Come on."
CrookedClan's camp sat nestled between two streams, with warriors and apprentices milling about. A tangle of brambles and thickets wafted the warm scents of milk, and a thorn bush reinforced with small stones and shiny bits of Twoleg stuff smelled of tansy and daisy. As the three cats entered, the Clan movements halted; every warrior turned to stare at Maplepaw, their eyes narrowed and hostile.
A big gray tom with long whiskers padded up to meet them. A crown of vines and shiny fish scales balanced regally between his ears. Fish bones adorned his neck. "Stonewhisker, who is this?"
"An invader," said Stonewhisker. "FireClan."
"What's your name, 'paw?" The Clan leader's eyes were kind.
"M-Maplepaw."
"And what are you doing in our territory?"
"I didn't mean to." Even as she said it, she knew how lame it sounded. "I was running in the forest…"
"Yellowstar doesn't know you're here?"
"No."
"Then we will escort you home. Yellowstar can see to your punishment."
"But Troutstar." Stonewhisker lashed his tail. "It could be a trap."
"A pretty pathetic trap," said the Clan leader. "Besides, I have no fear of FireClan. Best return their lost apprentice before trouble breaks out. Come. Stonewhisker, stay behind. Dustapple, Palefish, come with me."
Maplepaw walked between the big, heavy warriors, her tail trailing behind her. They skirted the lake edge, safely outside of BlackClan's territory. Maplepaw's feet slipped on the loose pebbles.
"Hurry up," Dustapple hissed, baring his teeth at her.
"Calm. We're nearly there."
FireClan scent bathed her tongue. A border patrol was coming this way. Troutstar halted on the edge of the scent line, waiting.
"What are you doing here?" Jaggedclaw hissed, his black fur rising. "And with our apprentice?" Sunsplash and Goosefur looked warily at the CrookedClan leader. Maplepaw stared at the ground, avoiding their eyes.
"I've come to speak with Yellowstar." Troutstar dipped his head politely.
"Better not be a trick," Jaggedclaw said crossly. "Come on, then." Goosefur and Sunsplash took up positions on either side, flanking the CrookedClan patrol.
When they reached the FireClan hollow, it seemed every warrior in Thunder forest had assembled to stare at then. Maplepaw's pelt burned when Paletuft's cold blue eyes flashed from where she lay sharing tongues with Fallensnow by the fresh-kill pile. Wrenpaw, cleaning his fur on a sun-lit rock, stopped mid-lick to stare at Troutstar with his gold-flecked eyes stretched wide.
"Troutstar? What is this?" Yellowstar leapt down from Highledge. The fur on her shoulders lifted slightly. Maplepaw couldn't suppress a small purr of pride when she realized the FireClan leader's crown was more lavish than Troutstar's.
Troutstar dipped his head slightly, obviously undaunted by Yellowstar's hostility. "This apprentice was found on our land." His tailtip flicked. "Several foxlengths within the border."
Maplepaw blinked, surprised. I was halfway to their camp! Why would a rival leader lie on her behalf? He didn't even know her. If I was leader…
"Maplepaw? Is this true?"
"Yes, Yellowstar."
"In that case," said the yellow tabby, licking her chest fur as if self-conscious, "I owe you an apology, Troutstar. I promise you this will not happen again."
"See to it that it doesn't." Tail held high, the big gray tom lead his patrol out of FireClan's camp.
"Follow them, Paletuft, Nettlescratch. Make sure they return home safely. And as for you, Maplepaw. What were you thinking?" Yellowstar hissed, her orange eyes smoldering. "Trespassing in CrookedClan? You had to cross BlackClan's land, didn't you? That's two borders disregarded in one day. I expected more from the daughter of Redpoppy."
"I didn't mean-"
"I'm not interested in excuses. Selfish, foolish behavior like this puts us all in danger. Tomorrow night would have been your first Gathering. Maybe staying behind will teach you the importance of respecting the warrior code."
"Yes, Yellowstar." Maplepaw wished she could sink into the dirt and disappear.
"For now, you can start by cleaning the elder's den and fetching moss for Cloudstep. You're not to leave the camp for the rest of the day."
At least Webclaw and Oaktree would welcome her. She slinked into the elder's den, her tail brushing the bramble fronds. Oaktree and Beechwhisker lay together, Oaktree grooming Beechwhisker's tabby fur with long, rhythmic strokes of his tongue while Webclaw ate a vole.
"Afternoon, 'paw," said Oaktree, looking up from his grooming. "Heard Yellowstar showing you her claws. Sneaking out to see a handsome CrookedClan tom, were ya?" He chuckled. "Couldn't it have waited until the Gathering?"
Handsome tom? "Um," she said, "I wasn't meeting anyone." Although Dustapple had been rather handsome. "I just wanted to go for a walk and didn't pay attention to where I was going, that's all."
"Awful long way to go for a walk," said Beechwhisker gruffly.
Maplepaw fell silent as she set to work rolling the soiled, old moss. I'm not surprised they don't believe me, she thought, but it's not like I can tell them the truth!
"Don't worry," said Webclaw kindly. "Bloompaw will tell you all you missed after the Gathering, I'm sure."
Maplepaw spent the rest of her day rolling up soiled bedding, collecting fresh moss, and filling the water skins from the nearest stream. As she clawed at a stubborn pebble stuck in a wad of bedding, the fur on her shoulders suddenly rose. She turned slowly and came face-to-face with Frecklepaw, her amber eyes narrowed to slits.
"Those were cheap moves," hissed the she-cat. "You just wait until Yellowstar isn't here to save your pelt." She leaned in so their muzzles almost touched. "I'll shred you. Poor Bloomkit will be picking dried blood from your nest for moons."
Maplepaw backed up, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. But Frecklepaw had timed her threat well. With both hunting and border patrols out, and Cloudstep busy gathering tansy, the hollow was deserted.
She flicked her tail over her back, turning away from Frecklepaw's hostile gaze. "I have work to do," she said brusquely. Maybe if she ignored her, the apprentice would lose interest. Maplepaw focused on the moss at her feet and set to work separating out any sharp stones.
After a while, Frecklepaw hissed lowly, and her scent disappeared. Maplepaw chuckled to herself. She really thinks she can scare me. She curled long claws into the moss. She has no idea who I am.
Come back to us. The shadows in camp were growing longer. Stifling a shiver, Maplepaw turned her face to the sun, ignoring the menacing voice.
Maybe I don't know who I am, either.