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“I…I thought he’d gotten you!” Sandstorm stammered. She crawled along the branch and pressed her flank against Fireheart’s ruffled fur until they both stopped trembling.
The dogs fell silent, but they stayed at the bottom of the tree, pacing back and forth.
“Where’s Ravenpaw?” Sandstorm asked suddenly.
Fireheart shook his head, trying to clear away the terror he had felt when the dogs were chasing him. “He must have run the other way. He should be okay. I think there were only two dogs.”
“I thought this was his territory. Didn’t he know there were dogs on this side of the field too?”
Fireheart couldn’t answer. He saw Sandstorm’s expression darken. “You don’t suppose he led us here on purpose?” she growled, narrowing her eyes.
“Of course not,” snapped Fireheart, a flash of uncertainty making him sound defensive. “Why would he?”
“It’s just strange he should turn up out of nowhere and lead us here, that’s all.”
A high-pitched mew made Fireheart and Sandstorm peer down through the leaves. Was that Ravenpaw? The dogs swung their heads around as they tried to locate the sound. Fireheart spotted a sleek black shape disappearing into the barley. Ravenpaw yowled again, and the dogs pricked up their ears. With barks of excitement they hurtled toward the swaying stems that gave away Ravenpaw’s hiding place.
Fireheart stared down from the tree. Could Ravenpaw outrun the dogs? He watched the barley tremble as Ravenpaw zigzagged invisibly through the field. The brown backs of the dogs crashed after him like ungainly fish, flattening the stalks with their clumsy paws and barking with frustration.
Suddenly Fireheart heard the sharp yap of a Twoleg. The dogs stopped in their tracks and lifted their heads above the barley stalks, their tongues lolling out. Fireheart peered along the field. A Twoleg was climbing over a wooden fence set in the hedge. Two lengths of something like twine dangled from its hand. Reluctantly the dogs began to push their way through the barley toward the Twoleg, who grabbed the collars around their necks and attached them to the twine. With a sigh of relief Fireheart watched the dogs being dragged away, their tails down and their ears drooping.
“I see you’re as fast as ever!”
Fireheart whipped around in surprise. Ravenpaw was clawing his way from the trunk onto their branch. The black cat nodded at Sandstorm. “Not sure why they bothered chasing her, though. She wouldn’t have made much of a meal.”
Sandstorm stood up and brushed past Ravenpaw. “Don’t we have an apprentice to rescue?” she inquired icily.
“I see she’s still a bit prickly,” Ravenpaw remarked.
“I wouldn’t tease her if I were you,” Fireheart murmured as he followed Sandstorm down the tree. He decided not to tell his old friend that Sandstorm had suspected him of leading them into a trap. Ravenpaw was no fool—he’d probably worked that out for himself, but it was a sign of his newfound confidence that he wouldn’t let her hostility bother him. And with the dogs safely out of the way, the only thing Fireheart wanted to think about was finding Cloudpaw.
Ravenpaw led them to the top of the rise and stopped. A Twoleg dwelling lay in the shallow valley ahead of them, just as he had promised.
“That’s where you took Cloudpaw?” Fireheart asked.
When the black cat nodded, Fireheart’s belly began to churn with nervous excitement. Even if they did find Cloudpaw, what if he didn’t want to come back with them? And if he did, would the Clan ever be able to trust a cat who had been lured into the softness of kittypet life?
“I can’t smell him,” Sandstorm remarked, and Fireheart didn’t miss the suspicious edge to her tone.
“His scent was already stale when I came to see him last time,” Ravenpaw explained patiently. “I think the Twolegs are keeping him locked in.”
“Then how exactly are we supposed to rescue him?”
“Come on,” Fireheart meowed, determined not to give the two cats a chance to start arguing. He began to head down the slope toward the dwelling. “Let’s take a closer look.”
The Twoleg dwelling was surrounded by a neatly clipped hedge. Fireheart pushed his way through it and stared across the browning grass to the Twoleg nest silhouetted against the dusky sky. He flattened his body to the ground and crept toward the nearest bush, his ears pricked. His nose was no good here. The evening air was filled with cloying flower scents that drowned out more useful smells. He heard pawsteps on the grass behind him and turned to see Ravenpaw and Sandstorm following, their quarrel apparently put aside for now. He nodded to them, grateful for their company, and carried on across the lawn.
By the time they reached the Twoleg nest, Fireheart could feel the blood pulsing through his ears. Suddenly the hedge, and the safety that lay beyond it, seemed very far away.
“Here’s the window where I saw him,” whispered Ravenpaw, leading the way around the corner of the nest.
“And probably where the Twoleg saw you,” muttered Sandstorm. Fireheart could smell her fear-scent, and knew her irritation was due as much to barely suppressed tension as to old rivalries.
A light glared from the window above their heads, and Sandstorm dropped into a crouch. Fireheart could hear the clatter of Twoleg feet inside. He craned his neck to look up the wall of the Twoleg nest. The window was too high to reach in one leap. He crept to the patch of earth directly below it, where a gnarled and twisted tree climbed the side of the nest. Fireheart studied the curving branches. He considered clambering up it, but he could still hear the Twoleg crashing around inside.
“Cloudpaw must be half-deaf, living with that racket!” hissed Sandstorm, her ears flat against her head.
Curiosity gnawed at Fireheart like a hungry rat until he couldn’t bear it any longer. “I’m going to have a look,” he meowed, and began to claw his way up the winding stem, ignoring Sandstorm’s warning to be careful.
With his heart pounding, Fireheart reached the window and cautiously pulled himself up onto the ledge.
Inside, a Twoleg was standing over something that spat out clouds of steam. Fireheart winced at the harsh unnatural light, but he felt old memories of his kithood stirring inside him, and he knew he was looking into a kitchen, where Twolegs prepared food. His mind flooded with long-buried memories of eating dry, tasteless food and drinking water with a sharp, metallic taste. Blinking the images away, he began to look for any sign of Cloudpaw.
In the corner of the Twoleg den, he spotted a nest of what looked like dried branches woven tightly together. His paws began to tremble with excitement. A small white shape was curled inside. Fireheart held his breath as the shape stretched and leaped from its box. It ran to the Twoleg’s feet and began yapping noisily. It was a dog! Fireheart shrank back, disappointment making his head spin and almost causing him to lose his grip on the window ledge. Where was Cloudpaw?
The Twoleg reached down and patted the noisy creature. Fireheart hissed under his breath, then sat up in surprise as Cloudpaw strolled through a doorway into the room. To Fireheart’s alarm the dog rushed toward Cloudpaw, still yapping. He waited for Cloudpaw to arch his back and spit, but instead the white cat coolly ignored it.
Fireheart ducked as Cloudpaw suddenly jumped onto the ledge at the far end of the window. The dog carried on yapping from the floor, out of sight. “He’s here,” Fireheart hissed down to Ravenpaw and Sandstorm.
“Has he seen you?” called back Sandstorm.
Fireheart cautiously raised his eyes, but kept his body flattened against the hard stone. Cloudpaw was gazing blindly out over Fireheart’s head. His eyes were shadowed with unhappiness, and he looked thinner. With a prickle of guilt, Fireheart couldn’t help feeling relieved. This was proof enough for him that Cloudpaw wasn’t suited to kittypet life.
He sat up and pressed his forepaws against the window that separated them. With a quiver of frustration he scrabbled at the glass, keeping his claws sheathed so that his soft pads made no sound that might alert the Twoleg or the dog. He held his
breath as Cloudpaw’s ears twitched. Then the white apprentice turned and spotted him, and his mouth opened wide in a delighted yowl that Fireheart couldn’t hear.
Inside, the noise made the Twoleg swing around in surprise. Fireheart leaped down from the ledge, landing beside his friends.
“What’s the matter?” asked Sandstorm.
“Cloudpaw saw me, but I think the Twoleg did too!”
“We should go,” Ravenpaw meowed urgently.
“No,” hissed Fireheart. “You two can go. I’m staying here till Cloudpaw gets out.”
Sandstorm glared at him. “What are you going to do? What if they let that dog loose?”
“I can’t leave now that Cloudpaw’s seen me,” Fireheart insisted. “I’m staying here.”
As he spoke, a creaking noise sounded behind them. Fireheart snapped his head around. Light flooded from a door in the wall and spilled out into the garden, illuminating the grass all the way to the hedge. The bright pool darkened suddenly as the shadow of a Twoleg fell across it.
Fireheart froze. There was no time to hide. He knew they had been spotted. The Twoleg called, its cries hard and questioning, and then it stepped out and began to walk slowly toward them. The three cats huddled together as the Twoleg came nearer and nearer. Fireheart heard Sandstorm draw in a trembling breath. He looked up and his belly tightened with terror. The Twoleg was looming over them. They were trapped.
