to prove by fighting kittypets? Run!”
To her relief, Raggedpelt spun around and raced back down the alley, the way they had come. Yellowpaw followed; glancing back she saw Marmalade and more of the Twolegplace cats hard on their paws.
“Faster!” she gasped.
But as they came into sight of the first Twoleg fence, Marmalade and the others dropped back. “Stay away in the future!” Marmalade yowled after them.
Just as Yellowpaw bunched her muscles to leap up onto the fence, a voice from the shadows called, “Wait!”
Yellowpaw turned to see the small she-cat who had flinched at the mention of Featherstorm’s name. She was beckoning with one paw, her green eyes wide and nervous.
“What do you want?” Raggedpelt growled.
“There is a cat you need to speak to,” the she-cat replied. “Follow me.”
Raggedpelt exchanged a glance with Yellowpaw. “It might be a trap,” he murmured. “Why should she help us?”
“So that you’ll stay away,” the she-cat replied. “We want nothing to do with wild cats like you.”
“We have to risk it,” Yellowpaw insisted. “We have to know the truth!”
Raggedpelt hesitated a moment more, then shrugged. “Okay. But I still think we both have bees in our brain.”
The she-cat led the way around a corner and down another alley. “There was a forest cat hanging around here a while ago,” she meowed. “Her name might have been Featherstorm. I haven’t seen her for ages, though.”
Frustrated at coming so close to the information she needed, Yellowpaw slid out her claws. She didn’t mean to be threatening, but the she-cat gave her a glance of alarm.
“That cat had nothing to do with me,” she mewed defensively. She nodded toward the shadows between two Twoleg dens. “Hal knew her better than any of us. Ask him.”
Yellowpaw turned to see a pair of amber eyes gleaming in the darkness. She beckoned with her tail to Raggedpelt, who padded over to her. Meanwhile the small she-cat darted away, scrambled over a wall, and was gone.
Hal blinked as Yellowpaw and Raggedpelt approached. It was so dark, it was impossible to tell what color he was. “I heard what she said,” he began, before they asked him anything. “I never knew a cat called Featherstorm. I have nothing to do with forest cats.”
Yellowpaw could see that Hal was a kittypet; his collar gleamed as he shifted in the shadows.
“Okay, sorry we bothered you,” Raggedpelt responded, turning away.
Yellowpaw was following when instinct told her to glance back. Hal had emerged from the shadows and was slinking away along the line of Twoleg dens. Yellowpaw froze. The kittypet was a dark brown tabby, and except for the fact that his shoulders were broader and his muscles more filled out, he was the exact image of Raggedpelt.
“Wait!” Yellowpaw yowled, running after him. “You must have known Featherstorm! Look—this is your son!”
Hal turned back, his amber eyes growing cold. For a heartbeat he looked Raggedpelt up and down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snarled. “I have no son.”
“But just look at him—” Yellowpaw began, waving her tail at Raggedpelt. Hal simply spun around and began padding away.
“We have to go,” Raggedpelt interrupted. His voice was like ice. “This was a mouse-brained idea. We should never have come here.”
C HAPTER 8
“Yellowpaw! Yellowpaw!”
Deerleap’s voice broke into a dream where Yellowpaw was searching through the forest, though she couldn’t remember what she was hunting for. It was a huge effort to open her eyes. When she tried to sit up, every muscle in her body shrieked with fatigue, and her paws were aching.
What’s the matter with me? Then the events of the night before came flooding back into her mind. She and Raggedpelt had visited the Twolegplace, and dawn wasn’t far off by the time they returned to their nests.
And it was a disaster!
“Yellowpaw!” Deerleap called again, sounding more impatient this
To her relief, Raggedpelt spun around and raced back down the alley, the way they had come. Yellowpaw followed; glancing back she saw Marmalade and more of the Twolegplace cats hard on their paws.
“Faster!” she gasped.
But as they came into sight of the first Twoleg fence, Marmalade and the others dropped back. “Stay away in the future!” Marmalade yowled after them.
Just as Yellowpaw bunched her muscles to leap up onto the fence, a voice from the shadows called, “Wait!”
Yellowpaw turned to see the small she-cat who had flinched at the mention of Featherstorm’s name. She was beckoning with one paw, her green eyes wide and nervous.
“What do you want?” Raggedpelt growled.
“There is a cat you need to speak to,” the she-cat replied. “Follow me.”
Raggedpelt exchanged a glance with Yellowpaw. “It might be a trap,” he murmured. “Why should she help us?”
“So that you’ll stay away,” the she-cat replied. “We want nothing to do with wild cats like you.”
“We have to risk it,” Yellowpaw insisted. “We have to know the truth!”
Raggedpelt hesitated a moment more, then shrugged. “Okay. But I still think we both have bees in our brain.”
The she-cat led the way around a corner and down another alley. “There was a forest cat hanging around here a while ago,” she meowed. “Her name might have been Featherstorm. I haven’t seen her for ages, though.”
Frustrated at coming so close to the information she needed, Yellowpaw slid out her claws. She didn’t mean to be threatening, but the she-cat gave her a glance of alarm.
“That cat had nothing to do with me,” she mewed defensively. She nodded toward the shadows between two Twoleg dens. “Hal knew her better than any of us. Ask him.”
Yellowpaw turned to see a pair of amber eyes gleaming in the darkness. She beckoned with her tail to Raggedpelt, who padded over to her. Meanwhile the small she-cat darted away, scrambled over a wall, and was gone.
Hal blinked as Yellowpaw and Raggedpelt approached. It was so dark, it was impossible to tell what color he was. “I heard what she said,” he began, before they asked him anything. “I never knew a cat called Featherstorm. I have nothing to do with forest cats.”
Yellowpaw could see that Hal was a kittypet; his collar gleamed as he shifted in the shadows.
“Okay, sorry we bothered you,” Raggedpelt responded, turning away.
Yellowpaw was following when instinct told her to glance back. Hal had emerged from the shadows and was slinking away along the line of Twoleg dens. Yellowpaw froze. The kittypet was a dark brown tabby, and except for the fact that his shoulders were broader and his muscles more filled out, he was the exact image of Raggedpelt.
“Wait!” Yellowpaw yowled, running after him. “You must have known Featherstorm! Look—this is your son!”
Hal turned back, his amber eyes growing cold. For a heartbeat he looked Raggedpelt up and down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snarled. “I have no son.”
“But just look at him—” Yellowpaw began, waving her tail at Raggedpelt. Hal simply spun around and began padding away.
“We have to go,” Raggedpelt interrupted. His voice was like ice. “This was a mouse-brained idea. We should never have come here.”
C HAPTER 8
“Yellowpaw! Yellowpaw!”
Deerleap’s voice broke into a dream where Yellowpaw was searching through the forest, though she couldn’t remember what she was hunting for. It was a huge effort to open her eyes. When she tried to sit up, every muscle in her body shrieked with fatigue, and her paws were aching.
What’s the matter with me? Then the events of the night before came flooding back into her mind. She and Raggedpelt had visited the Twolegplace, and dawn wasn’t far off by the time they returned to their nests.
And it was a disaster!
“Yellowpaw!” Deerleap called again, sounding more impatient this
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