Warriors Super Edition: Yellowfang’s Secret (24 page)

Yellowfang blinked. “Yes. It was Marmalade,” she admitted. “But he didn’t say anything about … you know, Hal. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Raggedpelt obviously didn’t agree; his neck fur was bristling and he slid his claws in and out. “I am not a kittypet! This is where I belong!” he hissed as he spun around.

“Hey, wait!” Yellowfang bounded after him. “It’s okay. Calm down. Nothing happened.”

Raggedpelt flicked his tail as if he were brushing away her words. “Leave me alone, can’t you?” he growled, picking up his pace until he was racing across the camp to vanish into the thorns.

Yellowfang heaved a deep sigh as she stared after him.

“Had a fight with your mate?” Rowanberry bounced up to her, a mischievous look in her eyes.

Yellowfang bit back a snarl. “He’s not my mate!” she snapped. “We’re just friends.”

Rowanberry rolled her eyes. “There’s no need to pretend,” she meowed. “The whole Clan knows there’s something going on between you and Raggedpelt. I think he’s kind of cranky, but I guess he’s handsome …”

Yellowfang had no time for her sister’s nonsense. Without replying, she turned her back on Rowanberry and stalked away.

Twilight was gathering in the clearing as Yellowfang returned at the head of a hunting patrol. She dropped her squirrel on the fresh-kill pile and glanced around. The camp was quiet; most of her Clanmates, she guessed, were already settling down to sleep.

Archeye, Rowanberry, and Mousewing, the other members of her patrol, deposited their prey and headed for the warriors’ den. Feeling thirsty, Yellowfang padded toward the stream at the edge of the camp, her paws crunching on the snow. The stream was barely a trickle in the ice, and the water was so cold that when she lapped, her tongue felt as though it were burning.

As Yellowfang raised her head and shook droplets from her whiskers, she heard the sound of a cat moving clumsily over twigs. Her ears pricked.

What’s that? Apprentices slinking out? Or an elder having trouble walking?

Yellowfang glanced around the edge of the camp, peering through the trees as she tried to work out where the sound was coming from. But before she could locate it, a yowl split the silent night air. Several cats exploded out of the shadows; the thorns and brambles that surrounded the camp crackled as they burst in.

Scorchwind and Amberleaf, on guard by the tunnel entrance, leaped to their paws. “Intruders!” Scorchwind shrieked.

For a heartbeat Yellowfang stood frozen. Then she recognized the muscular ginger tom who led the intruding cats.

It’s Marmalade! Great StarClan, these are the Twolegplace cats!

Screeches battered Yellowfang’s ears as warriors
charged from their den, flinging themselves on the attackers.

Marmalade halted in the center of the clearing, his amber eyes glaring around. “Boulder! Red!” he yowled. “Where are you? We’ve come—” His caterwauling was cut off as Finchflight and Mudclaw leaped on top of him and he vanished in a flurry of furious teeth and claws.

Yellowfang raced across the clearing to join her Clanmates, but before she reached them she felt claws digging into her shoulders as a cat landed on her back. She staggered under the weight and almost fell. Twisting her head around, she recognized the fluffy white kittypet, Pixie.

For a moment Yellowfang was so shocked that she couldn’t remember any battle moves. Then she reared up on her hind paws and let herself fall backward. Pixie released her and scrambled away to avoid being squashed underneath her. Yellowfang jumped to her paws and sidestepped as the kittypet rushed at her again. Swiping at her with sheathed claws, she knocked the white she-cat over and pinned her down with both forepaws on her chest.

“What’s all this about?” she demanded as Pixie writhed beneath her paws, spitting in fury.
She’s stronger than I expected,
Yellowfang thought, struggling to hold her down.

“You stole our cats!” Pixie hissed, her green eyes blazing.

“What do you mean?” Yellowfang asked, bewildered.

But there was no answer. With one desperate heave, Pixie flung her off and vanished into the crowd of battling cats. More and more of them were pouring into the clearing, attacking the ShadowClan warriors with teeth and claws. As Yellowfang stared at the heaving, screeching mass, she realized that though her Clanmates were battle-trained, the kittypets had the advantage of surprise.

Will we lose this fight?
she wondered, appalled.

She spotted Nutwhisker breaking free from a clawing knot of cats and staring around him with a look of utter shock. “These are kittypets!” he exclaimed.

A rangy gray tabby aimed a blow at him. “We don’t all live with housefolk!” he snarled into Nutwhisker’s ear. “You aren’t the only ones who can hunt down prey.”

Before he had finished speaking, Yellowfang was hurtling across the clearing to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her littermate. The gray tabby took one look at the cats facing him, claws extended, and turned tail, vanishing into the shadows.

“Get out of our camp!” Nutwhisker yowled, racing off in pursuit.

Yellowfang followed, but two more rogues lunged between her and Nutwhisker, knocking her to the ground. All the breath was driven out of her. Half-stunned, she heard the pounding paw steps of another cat and turned to face a new enemy, only to spot Raggedpelt skidding to a halt beside her. He hauled her to her paws with his claws in her scruff.

“Thanks!” she gasped.

Raggedpelt’s eyes were haunted, and there was a horrified expression on his face. “What are these cats doing here?” he hissed.

“I think they’re looking for Russetpaw and Boulder!” Yellowfang replied.
If Hollyflower and Newtspeck hadn’t tried to boast to Marmalade, this wouldn’t be happening!

Raggedpelt opened his jaws to reply, but a loud screech cut him off.

“Help! Over here! The nursery!”

Spinning around, Yellowfang saw Rowanberry and Mousewing in the entrance to the nursery, trying to fight off a whole cluster of Twolegplace cats.

“They’re attacking the queens!” Raggedpelt growled as he sprang toward them. “These cats have no honor!”

Yellowfang pelted after him, and the two warriors fell upon the intruders from behind. For several heartbeats Yellowfang struck out blindly, with three or four cats surrounding her; then she and her Clanmates forced the kittypets back into the open, away from the nursery entrance. Yellowfang glimpsed Raggedpelt chasing one of them into the bushes.

A hard blow on her shoulder made her stagger; recovering, she found herself facing Marmalade. The ginger tom aimed another blow at her; Yellowfang ducked and raked her claws across his chest fur. With a snarl of fury Marmalade threw himself on top of her and the two cats grappled together, rolling over on the ground.

“You have no right to keep Red and Boulder here!” Marmalade hissed into Yellowfang’s ear.

“But they came of their own accord!” she protested. “They chose to stay!”

Marmalade wasn’t paying any attention. Yellowfang knew she had to do something to stop the battle. Wriggling free from the ginger tom, knowing she left tufts of her gray pelt in his claws, she looked around frantically. “Cedarstar!” she yowled, trying to make herself heard above the storm of battle.

She spotted the Clan leader as he buffeted a rogue about the ears; the rogue turned and fled into the darkness at the edge of the camp. Yellowfang rushed across the clearing to intercept Cedarstar before he rejoined the battle.

“Cedarstar!” she panted. “I know what’s going on!”

The Clan leader’s claws gleamed in the starlight. “What do you mean?” he snapped. Yellowfang guessed that he hadn’t heard Marmalade’s yowl as he burst into the clearing.

“When we were patrolling yesterday, we told a kittypet that Russetpaw and Boulder are living in ShadowClan. The kittypets think we’re keeping them imprisoned. They’ve come to get them back!”

“That’s madness!” Cedarstar roared.

Yellowfang nodded. “I know. But the kittypets don’t.”

As she spoke, Marmalade staggered up, bleeding from several scratches but still on his paws. “We know Red and Boulder are here,” he growled. “Give them to us!”

The Clan leader lashed his tail. “They’re not here. They’re out on patrol. And they’re not prisoners.”

Marmalade faced the Clan leader, his neck fur bristling. “So
you
say.”

Yellowfang had to admire the big tom’s courage. “They won’t believe anything unless Russetpaw and Boulder tell them,” she meowed to Cedarstar.

The Clan leader let out a snarl of anger and frustration. “Go and find them, then, and bring them back here. I know we can win this fight, but it’s better for the Clan if we end it quickly.”

Yellowfang dipped her head and dashed off, skirting groups of grappling cats. The patrol wasn’t in sight when she emerged from the tunnel, but she knew the direction they would return and bounded off to meet them. Now that she had a moment to think, she was aware of stinging pain all over her body, and realized that she was feeling the wounds of every cat in the battle. Her head clouded with agony, and she blinked to clear it.

We must finish this quickly!

Suddenly new cat scents washed over Yellowfang. Rounding a fallen tree, she skidded to a halt as she saw Raggedpelt, Featherstorm, and Hal facing one another. All three cats were panting and wild-eyed, a terrible tension singing among them.

“Tell me this cat isn’t my father,” Raggedpelt growled at Featherstorm.

His mother flicked her tail. “He gave up the right to be called that long ago. It was his decision.”

Raggedpelt’s eyes widened as he stared at Hal. “You knew all along? But when I found you, you didn’t say anything!”

Hal shrugged. “You want nothing to do with Twolegplace cats. I want nothing to do with the Clans.”

“You have no idea what it was like, growing up without a father.” Raggedpelt’s words sounded as if he were being choked. “And now I find out that my father was a
kittypet
! Everything my Clanmates taunted me with is true!”

Yellowfang felt her heart tear with sympathy for Raggedpelt, more painful than any wound. She took a pace toward him. “That doesn’t matter!” she told him. “Every cat knows that you are a ShadowClan warrior.”

Raggedpelt rounded on her, his teeth bared. “Stay out of this,” he snarled.

As Yellowfang gazed at him, unable to leave but not knowing what else she could say, the sounds of fighting drifted through the trees, screeches and the crackling of paws through undergrowth growing steadily nearer.

“You should never have come here,” Featherstorm snapped at Hal, then bounded away toward the noise of battle.

Raggedpelt turned to his father, stiff-legged with fury, his neck fur bristling and his tail bushed out to twice its size. “Leave now,” he ordered. “And never come back.”

Hal gave his chest fur a slow, deliberate lick. “You can’t tell me what to do,
son,
” he drawled.

“I am not your son!” Raggedpelt growled, taking a threatening step forward. “I am a ShadowClan warrior!”

“A warrior with kittypet blood in your veins,” Hal taunted him. “Will your so-called Clanmates ever forget that?”

With a roar of fury Raggedpelt sprang at him; his claws slashed across Hal’s throat. Yellowfang felt agony flash across her neck and through all her body, and for a heartbeat the snow-covered forest turned black in her eyes.