The Apprentice's Quest

By the time they had finished eating, the sun had gone down, and shadows were gathering under the trees. “It’s getting late,” Sandstorm mewed. “If we want to cross the Thunderpath tonight, we’d better get a move on.”

As they set out, Alderpaw felt his pelt start to prickle again with the sensation that they were being followed. Eyeing some thick undergrowth as they padded past, he was almost sure that something was watching them from deep inside it. He wondered whether he should tell Sandstorm his suspicions, but when he tasted the air, he was so overwhelmed by his companions’ scents that he couldn’t make out anything strange. They’d just think I was imagining things, he told himself, trying to shrug off the feeling. And maybe I am.

The roaring sound grew louder as the cats loped on, and the acrid stench filled the air, drowning out the scents of the forest. Before they had traveled many fox-lengths, the trees came to an end, and the cats emerged onto a strip of grass that bordered the Thunderpath.

Alderpaw stared at it, his heart pounding so hard that he thought it would break out of his chest. He had never seen anything so terrifying.

Monsters were racing past in both directions, so close that the wind of their passing ruffled the cats’ fur. As they ran, they let out weird, high-pitched noises, as if they were talking to one another. Most of them had two blazing eyes that cut through the darkness in front of them.

Then Alderpaw spotted a monster that had only one eye. It looked even more dangerous than the others.

“A one-eyed monster!” Sparkpaw gasped, pressing close to Alderpaw and for once sounding just as scared as he was.

“You have to be brave,” Sandstorm meowed, her voice steady. “We need to cross before it’s completely dark. Come with me, and remember what I told you. No cat is to cross until I give the word.”

Alderpaw took a deep breath and gathered all his strength. He closed his eyes and called up the memory of the cats in his vision. I’m doing this for you. Full of resolve, he opened his eyes again. If we have to cross, then that’s what we’ll do.

He followed Sandstorm and stood in a line with his Clanmates at the very edge of the Thunderpath. He couldn’t believe how close they were to the monsters as they whizzed by.

Noise and wind and harsh scents buffeted him so that he hardly knew where he was. The monsters moved so quickly that he couldn’t see their paws, just a blur of black as they raced by.

Their roaring was so loud it hurt his ears, and their eyes were so bright that he couldn’t bear to look at them.

“Don’t worry,” meowed Sandstorm, standing next to him. “As long as we time our crossing right, the monsters won’t get us.”

Alderpaw wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help noticing the fear in her voice and in her scent.

There was no gap between the monsters where the cats could safely cross. Alderpaw imagined himself squashed beneath those massive black paws, flattened onto the black surface of the Thunderpath.

Then something flew out of one of the monsters. It glittered in the light from their eyes, heading straight for Molewhisker.

Sandstorm saw it, too.

“No!” she yowled, leaping at Molewhisker and shoving him out of the way.

Both cats lost their balance and fell over in a tangle of legs and tails, while the object smashed down on the edge of the Thunderpath and shattered into pieces.

“Thanks!” Molewhisker panted, scrambling to his paws. “Sandstorm, you probably saved my—”

He broke off as another object appeared from another monster, a dark shape hurtling through the air.

“Run!” Sandstorm yowled. “Back into the trees!”

No cat waited to find out what the second object was. Alderpaw heard it thump to the ground behind him as he raced back into the woodland with Sparkpaw by his side. At first he was scared that they would lose one another in the gathering darkness, but after a moment they all came together and huddled, trembling, in the shelter of some ferns.

“That does it!” Sandstorm’s voice was shaking. “I’m not trying to cross in the dark, not with monsters throwing things at us. We’ll make camp here and cross in the morning.”

Alderpaw felt a vast wave of relief that he didn’t have to go back and face the monsters with their glowing eyes. He tried to squash down the niggling anxiety that he felt when he thought about making the crossing on the following day.

Every cat was too exhausted to think of making real nests. They crawled more deeply into the patch of ferns and curled up close together. Alderpaw was grateful for the comforting feel of his sister’s fur pressed against him on one side, and Molewhisker’s on the other.

But as sleep washed over him, his pelt tingled with the certainty that he could still feel their mysterious follower’s eyes.

Sunlight slanting through the ferns woke