Brambleclaw almost followed him, but then he reminded himself that if StarClan really wanted to send a prophecy of great danger, they would not give it to one of the youngest, least experienced warriors in the Clan. They would tell the medicine cat, or perhaps the Clan leader himself. And obviously Firestar and Cinderpelt had not received an omen, or they would be telling the Clan what to do about it. No, Brambleclaw told himself again, there was nothing whatsoever to worry about.
The sun had not yet risen when Brambleclaw set out with the dawn patrol. Even in the few days since Sorreltail’s warrior ceremony, the leaves had begun to turn to gold and the first chill of leaf-fall lay on the forest, though it still hadn’t rained for longer than a moon. The young warrior shivered as long grasses, heavy with dew, brushed against his fur. Cobwebs spread a grey film over the bushes, and the air was filled with damp, leafy scents. The twittering of waking birds began to drown out the soft padding of the cats’ paws.
Brightheart’s brother, Thornclaw, who was in the lead, paused to look back at Brambleclaw and Ashfur. “Firestar wants us to check Snakerocks,” he meowed. “Watch out for adders. There are more of them since the weather has been so hot.”
Brambleclaw instinctively unsheathed his claws. The adders would be hidden in cracks now, but as soon as the sun came up the warmth would tempt them out again. One bite from those poisoned jaws could kill a warrior before a medicine cat could do anything to help.
Before they had gone very far Brambleclaw began to hear faint sounds behind him, as if something were moving around in the undergrowth. He paused, glancing back in the hope of an easy bit of prey. At first he could see nothing; then he noticed the fronds of a thick clump of fern waving about, though there was no breeze. He sniffed the air, opening his jaws to drink it in, before letting the breath out again with a sigh.
“Come out, Squirrelpaw,” he meowed.
There was a moment’s silence. Then the bracken waved again and the stems parted as the dark ginger she-cat came out into the open. Her green eyes glared defiance.
“What’s going on?” Thornclaw padded up to Brambleclaw, with Ashfur just behind him.
Brambleclaw indicated the apprentice with a flick of his tail. “I heard something behind us,” he explained. “She must have followed us from the camp.”
“Don’t talk about me as if I weren’t here!” Squirrelpaw protested hotly.
“You shouldn’t be here!” Brambleclaw retorted; somehow Squirrelpaw had only to open her mouth for him to feel that his fur was being rubbed the wrong way.
“Stop bickering, the pair of you,” Thornclaw growled. “You’re not kits anymore. Squirrelpaw, tell us what you’re doing. Did some cat send you with a message?”
“She wouldn’t have been skulking in the bracken if they had,” Brambleclaw couldn’t resist pointing out.
“No, they didn’t,” Squirrelpaw meowed with a resentful glance at Brambleclaw. Her paws scuffled in the grass. “I wanted to come with you, that’s all. I haven’t been on a patrol for ages.”
“And you weren’t told to come on this one,” Thornclaw replied. “Does Dustpelt know you’re here?”
“No,” Squirrelpaw admitted. “He promised last night we’d do some training, but every cat knows he spends all day in the nursery with Ferncloud and their kits.”
“Not anymore,” Ashfur mewed. “Not since the kits opened their eyes. Squirrelpaw, I think you might be in trouble if Dustpelt goes looking for you.”
“You’d better go back to camp right away,” Thornclaw decided.
Anger flared up in Squirrelpaw’s eyes, and she took a step forward that brought her nose-to-nose with Thornclaw. “You’re not my mentor, so don’t order me around!”
Thornclaw’s nostrils flared minutely as he let out a patient sigh, and Brambleclaw admired his self-control. If Squirrel paw had spoken to him like that, he would have been tempted to rake his claws over her ear.
Even Squirrelpaw seemed to realise she had gone too far. “I’m sorry, Thornclaw,” she meowed. “But it’s true I haven’t been on patrol for days. Please can I come?”
Thornclaw exchanged a glance with Ashfur and Bramble claw. “All right,” he mewed. “But don’t blame me if Dustpelt turns you into crowfood when we get back.”
Squirrelpaw gave a little skip of excitement. “Thank you, Thornclaw! Where are we going? Are we looking for anything special? Is there going to be trouble?”
Thornclaw swished his tail across her mouth to silence her. “Snakerocks,” he replied. “And it’s up to us to make sure there won’t be trouble.”
“Watch out for adders, though,” Brambleclaw added.
“I know that!” Squirrelpaw flashed back at him.
“And we do it quietly,” Thornclaw ordered her. “I don’t want to hear another squeak out of you unless there’s something I need to know.”
Squirrelpaw opened her mouth to reply, then took in what he had said and nodded vigorously.
The patrol set off again. Brambleclaw had to admit that now she had gotten her own way, Squirrelpaw was behaving sensibly, slipping quietly along behind the leader and staying alert for every sound and movement in the undergrowth.
The sun was well risen by the time the four cats emerged from the trees and saw the smooth, rounded shapes of Snakerocks in front of them. A dark hole gaped at the foot of one of them; it was the cave where the dog pack had hidden. Brambleclaw shuddered, remembering that Tigerstar, his own father, had tried to lead the savage animals to the Thunder Clan camp in deadly revenge against his former Clan mates.
Squirrelpaw noticed his expression. “Scared of adders?” she taunted him.
“Yes,” Brambleclaw replied. “And so should you be.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged. “They’re probably more scared of us.”
Before Brambleclaw could stop her, she bounded forward into the clearing, obviously meaning to poke her nose into the hole.
“Stop!” Thornclaw’s voice brought her skidding to a halt. “Hasn’t Dustpelt told you that we don’t go dashing in anywhere before we’re sure of what we’re going to find?”
Squirrelpaw looked embarrassed. “Of course he has.”
“Well, then, act like you might have listened to him once or twice.” Thornclaw padded up beside the apprentice. “Have a good sniff,” he suggested. “See if you can scent anything.”
The young she-cat stood with her head raised, drawing the morning air into her mouth. “Mouse,” she meowed brightly after a moment. “Can we hunt, Thornclaw?”
“Later,” the warrior replied. “Now concentrate.”
Squirrelpaw tasted the air again. “The Thunderpath, just over there”—she waved her tail—“and a Twoleg with a dog. But that’s stale,” she added. “I’d guess they were here yesterday.”
“Very good.” Thornclaw sounded impressed, and Squirrel paw curled her tail up in delight.
“There’s something else,” she went on. “A horrible scent . . . I don’t think I’ve smelled it before.”
Brambleclaw raised his