Chapter 3

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"Have you seen Brightpaw?" Sandstorm emerged from the fern tunnel and called to Blossompaw, Mousefur's apprentice. The tortoiseshell and white tom was trotting toward the pile of fresh-kill with two mice dangling from his jaws. He shook his head, and Sandstorm felt a flash of annoyance. Brightpaw should have been back ages ago.

"All right. Take those mice straight to the elders," he ordered Blossompaw. The apprentice gave a muffled mew and padded quickly away.

Sandstorm felt his tail bristle with anger at Brightpaw, but he knew it was fear that made him so furious. What if Goldenflower has found him? Feeling his alarm grow, Sandstorm hurried to Oakstar's den. He would tell her his decision about the mentors and then he could go and look for Brightpaw.

At the Highrock, Sandstorm didn't pause to smooth his ruffled fur, he just called out and pushed his way through the lichen as soon as he heard Oakstar's reply. The Thunderclan leader was crouching in her nest where he had left her, staring at the wall.

"Oakstar," Sandstorm began, dipping his head. "I thought Ferncloud and Darkstripe would be good mentors."

The elderly she-cat turned her head and looked at Sandstorm, then heaved herself up onto her haunches. "Very well," she answered flatly.

A wave of disappointment broke over Sandstorm. Oakstar looked as if she didn't care whom he chose. "Shall I send them to you so you can tell them the good news?" he asked. "They're out of the camp just now," he added. "But when they return, I can—"

"They're out of camp?" Oakstar's whiskers twitched. "Both of them?"

"They're on patrol," Sandstorm explained uncomfortably.

"Where's Brindleface?"

"Out training Cloudpaw."

"And Mousefur?"

"Hunting with Sorreltail and Fireheart."

"Are all the warriors out of camp?" Oakstar demanded.

Sandstorm saw the muscles in her shoulders tense and his heart lurched. What was Oakstar afraid of? His thoughts darted back to Brightpaw and the fear he had felt this morning in the silent forest. "The patrol's due back soon." Sandstorm fought to stay calm as he tried to reassure his leader. "And I'm still here."

"Don't patronize me! I'm not some frightened kit!" spat Oakstar. Sandstorm shrank back and she went on. "Make sure you stay in camp until the patrol returns. We've been attacked twice in the past moon. I don't want the camp to be left unguarded. In the future I want at least three warriors to remain in camp all the time."

Sandstorm felt a chill shudder through his pelt. For once he did not dare meet his leader's eyes, afraid that he wouldn't recognize the cat he saw there. "Yes, Oakstar," he murmured quietly.

"When Darkstripe and Ferncloud return, send them to my den. I wish to speak to them before the ceremony."

"Of course."

"Now go!" Oakstar flicked her tail at him, as if she thought he was putting the Clan in danger by wasting time.

Sandstorm backed out of the den. He sat down in the shade of the Highrock and twisted his head to lick the fur on his tail. What should he do? His pounding heart told him to race into the forest, find Brightpaw, and bring him home to the safety of the camp. But Oakstar had ordered him to stay here until one of the patrols returned.

Just then he heard the crashing of cats through the undergrowth outside the camp and he smelled the familiar scents of Darkstripe, Dappletail, and Ferncloud on the warm air. Their pawsteps slowed as they trotted through the gorse entrance, Dappletail leading the way.

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