Chapter 23

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Sandpaw could tell there were several cats in the patrol, traveling fast. He couldn't recognize the individual scents of the cats through the earthy bog odors, but he knew it was Thunderclan. He held his breath as the pawsteps raced past and away.

"Are we really going to try to rescue the kits from Shadowclan alone?" whispered Silverpaw.

Raggedpelt answered him first. "I might be able to find us some help from inside Shadowclan. Not all the cats support Brokenstar."

Sandpaw pricked up his ears and Silverpaw flicked his tail in surprise.

"When she became leader," Raggedpelt explained, "Brokenstar forced the elders to leave the security of the inner camp. They had to live on the boundary and hunt for themselves. These are cats who have grown up with the warrior code. Some of them might help us."

Sandpaw stared into her old eyes, thinking quickly. "And I might be able to persuade the Thunderclan hunting party to help us too," he meowed. "If I can speak to them before they see Raggedpelt, I might be able to make them believe her story. Silverpaw, you wait at the dead ash, where we smelled the kit blood, till one of us returns."

Silverpaw looked worried. "But do you really trust Raggedpelt to bring back help?" he murmured to Sandpaw.

"You must trust me," growled Raggedpelt. "I will return."

Silverpaw looked at Sandpaw, who nodded.

Without another word Raggedpelt sprang past the two apprentices and disappeared into the bushes.

"Have we done the right thing?" asked Silverpaw.

"I don't know," Sandpaw admitted. "If we have, we are heroes and the kits are safe. If we are wrong, then we are as good as dead."


Sandpaw sprinted after the patrol, around brambles, past gorse, and through nettles. The trail was easy to follow. The angry Thunderclan cats weren't trying to disguise their presence in Shadowclan's territory.

Overhead, the thick layer of cloud had finally rolled away. Beyond the treetops, Silverpelt glittered across the night sky. The moon was just rising, but it's cold light couldn't pierce the mist that clung to the shadowy undergrowth.

Sandpaw concentrated on the scent from up ahead. He could smell Brindleface. He sniffed again. Goldenflower wasn't with them. He raced to catch up and skidded to a halt behind the band of Thunderclan cats.

The warriors turned and glared at him, fur bristling, ears flattened aggressively. Darkstripe was with them and the young tom Mousefur, as well as the tortoiseshell and white warrior Dappletail. Willowpelt was with them too.

"Sandpaw!" growled Brindleface. "What are you doing here?"

Sandpaw gasped for breath. "Oakstar sent me!" he panted. "She wanted me to find Raggedpelt before—"

Brindleface interrupted him. "Ah!" he meowed. "Oakstar told me I might find a friend out here. Now I understand what she meant." He looked thoughtfully at Sandpaw.

"Is Goldenflower nearby?" Sandpaw asked, feeling a tingle of pride at their shared gaze.

Brindleface looked at him curiously. "Oakstar insisted she needed him to remain at camp, to protect the remaining kits."

Sandpaw nodded quickly, relieved. He meowed urgently, "Brindleface, I need your help. I can lead you to the kits. Silverpaw is waiting for me. We plan to rescue them tonight. Will you come?"

"Of course we'll come!" The warriors flicked their tails with excitement.

"It will mean raiding the Shadowclan camp." Sandpaw warned.

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