The Apprentice's Quest

“It worked for us,” Mistfeather mewed defensively. “And the daylight-warriors were brave and worthy Clanmates, but the rogues attacked at night when they were with their housefolk, so we were terribly outnumbered.”

“And the rogues won.”

Mistfeather nodded. “We were trying to protect one another, not kill our enemies, and it’s easy to defeat cats who do that.”

“So where did the rest of your Clan go?”

Alderpaw asked, glancing around as if he expected more cats to emerge from the undergrowth.

“I don’t know,” Mistfeather told him. “We all scattered. I’m the only one left here, and I have no idea how many of the others survived, or where they might be.”

“Why did you stay?”

Deep grief flooded into Mistfeather’s amber eyes. “My mate was killed in the battle. I decided that I’d rather live as a loner in the place where she died than leave to look for new territory.”

Alderpaw’s heart clenched with pity and fury. Everything makes sense now! Guilt tore at him like a fox’s fangs as he realized that his vision had been real. SkyClan had needed help, but he and his friends had come too late.

“That’s why the cats in the gorge don’t act like a Clan,” he murmured half to himself. “It’s because they’re not a Clan. They’re just rogues who pounced on a group of cats when they were vulnerable. They’re no better than thieves.”

“What do you know about it?”

The harsh voice came from behind

Alderpaw; he sprang up and whirled around to see Darktail standing a fox-length away, a sneer on his face. His unsettling blue gaze showed almost no emotion as he regarded Alderpaw and Mistfeather.

“It seems you’ve met one of the dregs of the gorge,” he meowed to Alderpaw. “Somehow he’s still alive! And it sounds like you’re plotting against my cats.”

Alderpaw backed away until he had the trunk of the tree behind him. His gaze flickered to and fro, hoping that some of his Clanmates might be nearby. But there was no sound or scent of them. In the dark shadows cast by the trees, Darktail seemed to be twice his size. I’ll have to think fast to get out of this.

But weariness and hunger seemed to have made Mistfeather mouse-brained. Lurching to his paws, he arched his back and hissed at Darktail. “You’re a filthy rogue who stole territory!”

“Territory belongs to those strong enough to defend it—or to take it,” Darktail pointed out, unmoved. “If SkyClan couldn’t dig their claws into the land they claimed as theirs, they have nothing to complain about. And if you want to stake your claim, Mistfeather, do you want to fight me for the territory right here, right now?”

Alderpaw’s outrage almost choked him.

Can’t Darktail see that Mistfeather is in no state to fight any cat?

But the exiled cat puffed up his fur and slid out his claws, drawing his lips back in a snarl.

“Do your worst, Darktail!”

Alderpaw started forward to place himself between the two cats, but Mistfeather waved him back with a sweep of his tail.

“Stay back!” he hissed. “A fight is a fight.”

No, it’ll be a slaughter, Alderpaw thought, as reluctantly he stepped back.

Mistfeather lunged forward, aiming a blow at Darktail, but the rogue leader slipped aside easily and raked his claws down the back of Mistfeather’s head.

“You’ll need to be faster than that!” he taunted the gray tom.

Undaunted, Mistfeather spun around and launched himself at the rogue leader again, but Darktail avoided the second blow as easily as the first. Mistfeather’s breath was already coming in ragged, wheezing gasps. He staggered and almost fell as Darktail thrust him off contemptuously with one paw.

Alderpaw couldn’t help admiring Mistfeather’s courage. As he watched the one-sided fight, he recognized some skillful fighting moves, and he realized that the SkyClan cat would have been a formidable opponent if only he’d had the strength.

Mistfeather scrabbled around and charged at Darktail again and again, but each time the rogue sidestepped clear of his feeble swipes and landed a strike of his own. Soon blood was trickling down Mistfeather’s sides, and tufts of his fur littered the forest floor.

At last Mistfeather was completely spent, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

Darktail padded slowly up to him and stood over him. Mistfeather raised one forepaw to strike at him, but the movement was slow and listless. Darktail easily swatted the paw aside.

Alderpaw’s muscles tightened with foreboding as he saw the real SkyClan cat sink to the ground, exhausted and defenseless.

“Stupid mange-pelt,” Darktail growled. “You should have stayed away.”

“Stop!” Alderpaw said, trying to move forward to protect the defeated cat, but he was too slow.

Darktail reared up and swept one forepaw around in a slashing blow. His claws ripped into

Mistfeather’s throat, opening it up so that blood gushed out in arcing spurts.

Mistfeather’s whole body spasmed, then went limp.

Alderpaw gazed in horror at the dead