Erin Hunter - Midnight

Brambleclaw halted too. For once he agreed with Crowpaw. “Purdy, wait!” he called. “We’re warriors—we don’t go into Upwalker places.”

The old cat paused at the bottom of the fence and looked back, his face creased in amusement. “Scared, are you?”

Crowpaw took a single step forward, his legs stiff and his neck fur bristling. “Say that again!” he hissed.

To Brambleclaw’s surprise, Purdy didn’t flinch a single whisker, even though Brambleclaw would bet that Crowpaw could have ripped him apart.

“Touchy, ain’t he?” the old cat mewed. “Don’t you worry none, young fellow. There’ll be no Upwalkers around just yet.

And there’s good food in their garden.”

Brambleclaw looked at the others. “What do you think?”

“I think we should give it a try,” meowed Stormfur. “We need food.”

“Yes, let’s just get on ,” Tawnypelt muttered.

Feathertail nodded eagerly and Squirrelpaw gave a little excited bounce. Only Crowpaw stayed apart, staring ahead without replying to Brambleclaw’s question.

“Let’s go, then,” Brambleclaw meowed.

After a cautious glance from side to side he crossed the grass to join Purdy, and the rest of his companions followed, even Crowpaw, though Brambleclaw noticed he trailed behind with his gaze on the ground.

“Crowpaw knows about my saltwater dream,” Feathertail murmured into Brambleclaw’s ear. “He seemed in a good mood when he woke up, so I told him, before the dog started chasing us. I think he’s upset.”

“Well, he’ll have to get over it.” Brambleclaw’s patience was running short; he had enough to worry about without making allowances for Crowpaw’s wounded pride.

Feathertail shook her head doubtfully, but just then they caught up with Purdy, so she said no more.

When they were all together the old tabby pushed his way through a gap in the fence and led the way into the Twoleg garden. Brambleclaw’s nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar smells: at least two Twolegs, the acrid reek of a monster, though to his relief that was stale, and a whole mixture of unfamiliar plant scents. Some of the plants had huge, shaggy flower heads that bent under their own weight; Squirrelpaw sniffed one, and jumped back in surprise as it shed a shower of petals over her fur.

Purdy padded across the grass and sat in the middle of it, waving his tail invitingly. Coming up beside him, Brambleclaw saw a pool of water edged with some hard Twoleg stuff. Pale flowers and green leaves floated on the water, and in the depths he spotted a flash of gold, so bright that he instinctively glanced upward to see if the sun had appeared, but all the sky was still covered with cloud.

“It’s a fish!” Feathertail exclaimed. “A golden fish!”

“What? Fish aren’t golden!” Crowpaw sounded irritable.

“No, but these are.” Stormfur was sitting beside his sister, gazing into the water. “I’ve never seen anything like it. We don’t get those in the river.”

“Can you eat them?” Tawnypelt asked.

“Aye, there’s good eatin’ on one of those,” Purdy told her.

“I’m going to try!” Squirrelpaw gave the water an experimental dab with her paw.

“Not like that!” meowed Stormfur. “You’ll just disturb them and send them all to the bottom. Let me and Feathertail show you.”

The two RiverClan cats sat poised by the edge of the pool, their gazes fixed on the water. Then Feathertail flashed out a paw. A bright golden fish flew into the air in an arc of glittering raindrops and fell on the bank, where it lay wriggling and flopping.

“Someone grab it, before it falls back in,” Stormfur ordered.

Squirrelpaw, who was nearest, pounced on the fish and bit it behind the head. “It’s good!” she announced, swallowing.

Stormfur had already caught another fish, and soon Feathertail caught a third, so that Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw could feed. Brambleclaw tasted his fish with some suspicion, not knowing what he expected, but the flesh was succulent, and he polished it off rapidly.

When Stormfur hooked out the next one, he patted it over to Crowpaw. “Come on… it’s okay.”

Crowpaw gave the fish a contemptuous look. “We should be on our way, not messing about with Twoleg stuff. I would never have come if I’d thought the journey to the sun-drown place—or wherever—would take so long. I’m missing out on warrior training with my mentor.”

“I reckon you’re getting some pretty good warrior training here,” Stormfur pointed out.

“Come sit with me,” Feathertail meowed persuasively, “and I’ll teach you how we catch them.”

“Teach me as well, please!” Squirrelpaw demanded eagerly.

Crowpaw glanced scornfully at the ThunderClan apprentice. He padded across to Feathertail, and sat beside her on the side of the pool.

“That’s right,” she meowed. “The trick is not to let your shadow fall on the water. When you see a fish, scoop it up as quick as you can, before it has time to swim away.”

Crowpaw bent over the water, a paw half extended, and a moment later flashed it down into the pool. He scooped out a fish, but it turned in the air and fell back into the water, spattering Crowpaw with a shower of drops. Squirrelpaw let out a snicker and Brambleclaw glared at her.

“That was very good for a first try,” Feathertail soothed the angry apprentice. “Try again.”

But Crowpaw had backed away from the pool. He dipped his head and began licking the splashes of water from his fur, only to stop in disgust. “What sort of water is this? It’s salty!”

“No, it’s not,” mewed Stormfur in surprise.

Whatever he was going to say was drowned in a crash and an angry Twoleg yell. Brambleclaw looked up to see a Twoleg standing in the open doorway of the nest, shouting. He gripped something in one hand and hurled it at the cats; it landed in among the shaggy flowers just beyond Purdy.

“Uh-oh,” mewed the old tabby. “Time to go.”

He lumbered back to the gap in the fence. Brambleclaw and Stormfur followed; Tawnypelt and Squirrelpaw streaked ahead to slip through the gap first, with Feathertail on their heels.

Crowpaw came last; as he emerged from the garden and raced across the grass to the shelter of the trees, he was spitting fury.

“Why did you take us there?” he demanded, turning on Purdy. “We should never have trusted you. Did you want that Twoleg to catch us? The filthy fish weren’t even worth it.”

“Crowpaw, don’t,” Feathertail pleaded, dropping the fish she was carrying. “There’s nothing wrong with the fish or the water.”

“I tell you it tasted salty!” Crowpaw snapped.

Brambleclaw was about to intervene—they had wasted far too much time, first in fleeing from the dog and now in arguing—until he saw the glow in Feathertail’s eyes.

“You know why it tasted salty to you and not the rest of us, don’t you?” she meowed quietly, resting the tip of her tail on his flank. “It’s your saltwater sign, Crowpaw. You’ve had it at last!”

The gray-black cat opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He stared at the fish and then at Feathertail. “Are you sure?” he meowed, sounding astonished.

“Of course, you stupid furball,” Feathertail purred.

Brambleclaw thought that no other cat but Feathertail could call Crowpaw a stupid furball and get away unclawed. “Why else would water in a Twoleg pool taste salty? It’s StarClan’s sign that we’re still on the right track.”

Crowpaw blinked and let his fur lie flat along his spine.

“What’s all this about signs and salt water?” Purdy growled.

“We’re on a really important journey!” Squirrelpaw informed him excitedly. “StarClan sent us to find out something vital for our Clans.”