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“Quick!” hissed Graypaw again. “Run!”
Rusty prepared to spring into the bushes, not knowing which way was safe to jump.
He was too late. A voice meowed behind him, firm and menacing. “What’s going on here?”
Rusty turned to see a large gray she-cat strolling majestically out from the undergrowth. She was magnificent. White hairs streaked her muzzle, and an ugly scar parted the fur across her shoulders, but her smooth gray coat shone like silver in the moonlight.
“Bluestar!” Beside Rusty, Graypaw crouched down and narrowed his eyes. He crouched even lower when a second cat—a handsome, golden tabby—followed the gray cat into the clearing.
“You shouldn’t be so near Twolegplace, Graypaw!” growled the golden tabby angrily, narrowing his green eyes.
“I know, Lionheart, I’m sorry.” Graypaw looked down at his paws.
Rusty copied Graypaw and crouched low to the forest floor, his ears twitching nervously. These cats had an air of strength he had never seen in any of his garden friends. Maybe what Smudge had warned him about was true.
“Who is this?” asked the she-cat.
Rusty flinched as she turned her gaze on him. Her piercing blue eyes made him feel even more vulnerable.
“He’s no threat,” mewed Graypaw quickly. “He’s not another Clan warrior, just a Twoleg pet from beyond our territories.”
Just a Twoleg pet! The words inflamed Rusty, but he held his tongue. The warning look in Bluestar’s stare told him that she had observed the anger in his eyes, and he looked away.
“This is Bluestar; she’s leader of my Clan!” Graypaw hissed to Rusty under his breath. “And Lionheart. He’s my mentor, which means he’s training me to be a warrior.”
“Thank you for the introduction, Graypaw,” meowed Lionheart coolly.
Bluestar was still staring at Rusty. “You fight well for a Twoleg pet,” she meowed.
Rusty and Graypaw exchanged confused glances. How could she know?
“We have been watching you both,” Bluestar went on, as if she had read their thoughts. “We wondered how you would deal with an intruder, Graypaw. You attacked him bravely.”
Graypaw looked pleased at Bluestar’s praise.
“Sit up now, both of you!” Bluestar looked at Rusty. “You too, kittypet.” He sat up immediately and held Bluestar’s gaze evenly as she addressed him.
“You reacted well to the attack, kittypet. Graypaw is stronger than you, but you used your wits to defend yourself. And you turned to face him when he chased you. I’ve not seen a kittypet do that before.”
Rusty managed to nod his thanks, taken aback by such unexpected praise. Her next words surprised him even more.
“I have been wondering how you would perform out here, beyond the Twolegplace. We patrol this border frequently, so I have often seen you sitting on your boundary, staring out into the forest. And now, at last, you have dared to place your paws here.” Bluestar stared at Rusty thoughtfully. “You do seem to have a natural hunting ability. Sharp eyes. You would have caught that mouse if you had not hesitated so long.”
“R-really?” Rusty stammered.
Lionheart spoke now. His deep meow was respectful but insistent. “Bluestar, this is a kittypet. He should not be hunting in ThunderClan territory. Send him home to his Twolegs!”
Rusty prickled at Lionheart’s dismissive words. “Send me home?” he mewed impatiently. Bluestar’s words had made him glow with pride. She had noticed him; she had been impressed by him. “But I’ve only come here to hunt for a mouse or two. I’m sure there’s enough to go around.”
Bluestar had turned her head to acknowledge Lionheart’s words. Now her gaze snapped back to Rusty. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger. “There’s never enough to go around,” she spat. “If you didn’t live such a soft, overfed life, you would know that!”
Rusty was confused by Bluestar’s sudden rage, but one glance at the horrified look on Graypaw’s face was enough to tell him he had spoken too freely. Lionheart stepped to his leader’s side. Both warriors loomed over him now. Rusty looked into Bluestar’s threatening stare and his pride dissolved. These were not cozy fireside cats he was dealing with—they were mean, hungry cats who were probably going to finish what Graypaw had started.
CHAPTER 2
“Well?” hissed Bluestar, her face only a mouse-length from his now. Lionheart remained silent as he towered over Rusty.
He flattened his ears and crouched under the golden warrior’s cold stare. His fur prickled uncomfortably. “I am no threat to your Clan,” he mewed, looking down at his trembling paws.
“You threaten our Clan when you take our food,” yowled Bluestar. “You have plenty of food in your Twoleg nest already. You come here only to hunt for sport. But we hunt to survive.”
The truth of the warrior queen’s words pierced Rusty like a blackthorn, and suddenly he understood her anger. He stopped trembling, sat up, and straightened his ears. He raised his eyes to meet hers. “I had not thought of it that way before. I am sorry,” he meowed solemnly. “I will not hunt here again.”
Bluestar let her hackles fall and signaled to Lionheart to step back. “You are an unusual kittypet, Rusty,” she meowed.
Graypaw’s sigh of relief made Rusty’s ears twitch. He heard the approval in Bluestar’s voice and noticed as she swapped a meaningful glance with Lionheart. The look made him curious. What flashed between the two warriors? Quietly he asked, “Is survival here really so hard?”
“Our terr
itory covers only part of the forest,” answered Bluestar. “We compete with other Clans for what we have. And this year, late newleaf means prey is scarce.”
“Is your Clan very big?” Rusty meowed, his eyes wide.
“Big enough,” replied Bluestar. “Our territory can support us, but there is no prey left over.”
“Are you all warriors, then?” Rusty mewed. Bluestar’s guarded answers were just making him more and more curious.
Lionheart answered him. “Some are warriors. Some are too young or too old or too busy caring for kits to hunt.”
“And you all live and share prey together?” Rusty murmured in awe, thinking a little guiltily of his own easy, selfish life.
Bluestar looked again at Lionheart. The golden tabby stared back at her steadily. At last she returned her gaze to Rusty and meowed, “Perhaps you should find out these things for yourself. Would you like to join ThunderClan?”
Rusty was so surprised, he couldn’t speak.
Bluestar went on: “If you did, you would train with Graypaw to become a Clan warrior.”
“But kittypets can’t be warriors!” Graypaw blurted out. “They don’t have warrior blood!”
A sad look clouded Bluestar’s eyes. “Warrior blood,” she echoed with a sigh. “Too much of that has been spilled lately.”
Bluestar fell silent and Lionheart meowed, “Bluestar is only offering you training, young kit. There is no guarantee you would become a full warrior. It might prove too difficult for you. After all, you are used to a comfortable life.”
Rusty was stung by Lionheart’s words. He swung his head around to face the golden tabby. “Why offer me the chance, then?”
But it was Bluestar who answered. “You are right to question our motives, young one. The fact is, ThunderClan needs more warriors.”
“Understand that Bluestar does not make this offer lightly,” warned Lionheart. “If you wish to train with us, we will have to take you into our Clan. You must either live with us and respect our ways, or return to your Twolegplace and never come back. You cannot live with a paw in each world.”
