“There’s plenty of time,” Raggedpelt assured her, stretching out lazily.
“But it’s leaf-fall already. We have to build up our stocks of herbs before the first frosts. Remember how short of supplies we were last leaf-bare?”
“We’ll go back soon. I should be preparing Cloudpaw for his final assessment.” Raggedpelt let out a snort of amusement. “Do you know, that scatterbrained apprentice still hasn’t learned that squirrels can climb trees faster than he can? I have to keep reminding him to stalk them in the open.”
Guilt flooded over Yellowfang. “Then we have to go now.”
Raggedpelt gave her a gentle nudge. “We aren’t hurting any cat,” he reassured her. “We meet all our responsibilities. The Clan is as safe and protected as it can be.” He pressed his muzzle against her shoulder. “This is still our secret.”
Yellowfang couldn’t suppress a rising purr.
“Don’t forget,” Raggedpelt went on, leaning close to her again, “you’re only an apprentice. You can still change your mind. I would make sure that you would never have to fight in a battle. I’ll be leader soon, after all, and I’ll do everything to keep you safe.”
Curled warmly into his fur, Yellowfang was tempted for a heartbeat. But then she thought of everything she had learned from Sagewhisker, and she knew again that this was a path she had to follow, at least for a while. She shook her head.
Raggedpelt gave her a gentle nudge. “I’ll persuade you yet,” he murmured.
Before Yellowfang could respond, a terrible screeching filled the forest. Together the two cats leaped to their paws.
“It’s one of our patrols!” Raggedpelt exclaimed. “They’re being attacked!”
Shoulder to shoulder, Yellowfang and Raggedpelt bolted through the trees, following the sound. Heartbeats later they came to a clearing. Staring across the open space, Yellowfang saw four of her Clanmates grappling with four huge rogues. The stink of Twolegplace caught her in the throat, making her gag.
Raggedpelt let out a roar of fury and leaped into the battle. He flung aside a rogue who was pinning Rowanberry down, and crashed into the flank of another who was lunging for Blizzardwing’s throat. They fled screeching, and the other two, realizing they were now outnumbered, raced after them.
“Don’t come back!” Raggedpelt yowled after them.
Yellowfang padded into the clearing. Rowanberry scrambled to her paws and helped Blizzardwing up. Wolfstep flung himself in pursuit of the rogues, only to come back at a sharp order from Raggedpelt. All three of them looked battered, but Yellowfang could see that their injuries weren’t serious.
“It was my fault!” Rowanberry gasped. “I was leading the patrol. I should have scented them, but they jumped out on us.”
“They were just looking for trouble,” Raggedpelt snarled.
Yellowfang scanned the clearing. She had seen four of her Clanmates fighting, but she could only account for three.
Then she caught a glimpse of white fur among a clump of ferns, and raced over to see Cloudpaw, lying ominously still.
“Oh, no!” she yelped.
“What’s he doing here?” Raggedpelt gasped as he came to stand beside her and look down at his motionless apprentice.
“He… he couldn’t find you,” Rowanberry admitted. “So he asked if he could come on the border patrol to practice his scenting skills before his final assessment.” She hesitated, then added reluctantly, “I let him take the lead. He didn’t pick up the scent of the intruders until it was too late.”
Trying to ignore the stricken look in Raggedpelt’s eyes, Yellowfang bent over the apprentice. At first she couldn’t see anything wrong with him, so she carefully let go of her control so that she could feel his pain. At once agony surged through her. She felt as if some fierce creature was inside her, trying to claw its way out through her belly. Her head reeling from it, her legs beginning to buckle, she reached out and gently turned Cloudpaw over. His belly had been slashed open; the grass underneath him was scarlet from his blood.
“Is he dead?” Rowanberry whispered.
Yellowfang shook her head; she had already spotted the faint rise and fall of Cloudpaw’s chest. Forcing herself to block off the pain again, she turned to the other cats. “Wolfstep, run back to camp and warn Sagewhisker. Blizzardwing, find me some cobwebs—try under those bushes. I have to stop the bleeding before we can move him.”
“I’ll carry him,” Raggedpelt mewed hoarsely.
Once Yellowfang had covered the wound with cobwebs, Raggedpelt insisted on taking Cloudpaw on his shoulders, even though the apprentice was nearly full-grown. Staggering under his weight, with Yellowfang and Blizzardwing on either side, he struggled back to the clearing.
Wolfstep had already alerted the Clan, who gathered around as Raggedpelt carried his apprentice through the tunnel. Nettlespot let out a piteous wail when she saw her son.
