DAWN. Erin Hunter

paused, her fur prickling. If Cloudtail, Brightheart, and Mistyfoot had been trapped by the Twolegs, they could be here now! She stared frantically around the nest, brighter now as the morning light strengthened. Finally she saw a shape she had hoped to find, the tortoiseshell-splashed fur familiar even in the gloom.

      “Brightheart!” Leafpaw tried to call her Clanmate’s name, but a new noise silenced her cry. The nest door opened and light streamed in. Leafpaw quickly scanned the cages for more familiar shapes as a Twoleg marched into the nest.

      The Twoleg began opening each cage and tossing something inside. When it reached hers, Leafpaw jumped back. She watched, trembling in fear, as the Twoleg dropped fresh pellets into the pot near the front and slopped stinking water into the holder beside it. But when the Twoleg opened Cody’s cage, the kittypet brushed against its giant paw, purring as the Twoleg stroked her soft fur.

      The Twoleg shut Cody’s door and left the nest. The cages were plunged once more into shadow.

      “How could you let it touch you?” Leafpaw hissed.

      “The workfolk might be our best way out of here,” Cody pointed out. “If I can persuade it that I’m nothing but a poor lost kittypet, it might let me go. You should try it too.”

      Leafpaw shuddered at the idea of any Twoleg touching her, and she knew her Clanmates would feel the same. She tried to find the cage where she had recognised Brightheart’s soft pelt.

      “Brightheart!” she called, her tail twitching anxiously.

      “Yes,” came the wary reply. “Who’s that?”

      Leafpaw pressed herself against the front of her cage, feeling the web hard and cold through her fur. “It’s Leafpaw!”

      “Leafpaw!” The voice came from somewhere else in the nest, and Leafpaw let out a muffled purr as she recognised Cloudtail’s familiar mew. She searched the cages until she saw his thick white pelt.

      “You’re both still alive!” Leafpaw exclaimed.

      “Are those the cats you were looking for?” Cody asked.

      Leafpaw nodded.

      “Leafpaw?” Another voice came from the gloom. “It’s me, Mistyfoot.”

      “Mistyfoot!” Leafpaw echoed. “I thought I found your scent before I was trapped! What were you doing so far from the RiverClan border?”

      “I wouldn’t have been caught in that fox-hearted Twoleg trap if I hadn’t been chasing a thieving WindClan warrior off my territory,” growled the she-cat.

      A trembling meow sounded from below. “I didn’t know it was a trap when I hid in it.”

      “Who’s that?” Leafpaw asked, peering down.

      “Gorsetail of WindClan,” came the reply.

      “Are there any other Clan cats here?” Leafpaw called, only half hoping for a reply. However relieved she was to find that her Clanmates and friends were still alive, she’d far rather no forest cats had been caught at all—herself included. But she heard only the steady crunching of pellets as the other trapped cats ate their food.

      “There’s about the same amount of rogues here as Clan cats,” Mistyfoot hissed.

      “What are rogues?” Cody whispered in alarm.

      “They’re cats who choose not to belong to a Clan,” Leafpaw explained. “Or to Twolegs, either.”

      “They care only about themselves,” Mistyfoot added.

      “Yeah, well, look where caring about your Clanmates got you,” muttered a reproachful voice near the floor of the nest.

      Leafpaw strained her eyes and saw a scraggly old tom with ripped ears crouching in a cage on the floor.

      “Ignore him,” spat Cody. “He’ll be no help.”

      “Do you know him?” Leafpaw asked in surprise.

      “He used to steal from my housefolks’ garbage,” Cody explained. “He may call himself a rogue, or whatever, but he’s no better than a rat, if you ask me.”

      “Do you live in Twolegplace?” Cloudtail called to Cody. “Do you know a cat called Princess?”

      “A tabby with white paws?”

      “Yes.” Cloudtail’s eyes shone in the gloom. “She’s my mother! How is she?”

      “She’s great,” Cody answered. “A dog came to live in the next house—a yappy thing—but Princess soon let him know it was her territory. She sat on the fence and hissed at him till he went running for cover!”

      “Look,” Mistyfoot snapped. “This is all very heartwarming, but can we figure out a way to escape?”

      “Does any cat know what the Twolegs are planning to do with us?” Brightheart’s voice was hoarse with terror.

      “What do you think they’re going to do with us?” muttered the rogue tom. “They didn’t catch us and lock us up in this stinking hut because they’re fond of cats.”

      “At least they’re feeding us,” Cody mewed quickly. “Even if it’s not quite as tasty as I’m used to.”

      Leafpaw glanced at her. “Let’s concentrate on finding a way out of here, like Mistyfoot suggested,” she mewed.

      “Why don’t you all just shut up?” hissed the rogue. “You’ll bring the Twoleg back with all your mewling.”

      As he spoke the noise of heavy footsteps sounded outside, and Leafpaw froze. She pressed herself to the back of her cage as the Twoleg came in with another cage. Leafpaw could tell by the fear-scent that a she-cat crouched inside, but she didn’t recognise its smell. With a guilty pang of relief, she knew that the latest victim of the Twoleg traps was definitely not a Clan cat.

      Another rogue, she decided as the Twoleg placed the cage on top of Cloudtail’s. And judging by the other rogues in here, she won’t be much help with planning a way to get out.

      But as soon as the Twoleg left the nest she heard Mistyfoot exclaim in astonishment, “Sasha!”

CHAPTER 3

      Squirrelpaw raced ahead of Brambleclaw and Stormfur towards the ravine where the ThunderClan camp lay. The stench of Twoleg monsters hung in the air, and her heart grew as heavy as a stone when she heard a rumbling roar up ahead.

      “They’re here already!” she whispered. There was an unfamiliar slash of brightness where a gap had appeared in the trees that bordered the ravine. Before, the forest had crowded right up to the edge of the steep slope that led down into the camp.

      Squirrelpaw felt Brambleclaw’s pelt brush hers as he crept alongside and peered out from the trees. “Go carefully,” he murmured without looking at her.

      A broad trail had been gouged through the forest. The ground, once hidden by ferns and smoothed by many moons’ pawsteps, was lumpy and muddy, churned up like the moorland. Their way to the ravine was blocked by monsters, roaring and growling as they chewed through more trees. Squirrelpaw shrank back under the bracken, flattening her ears.

      “Midnight warned us it would be bad,” Brambleclaw reminded her. His voice was oddly calm, and Squirrelpaw pressed herself close to him, seeking comfort from the warmth of his fur. “We can’t cross here,” he went on. “It’s too dangerous. We’ll have to go around and approach the camp from the other side.”

      “You lead the way,” Stormfur suggested. “You know the forest here better than I do.” He glanced at Squirrelpaw. “Are you OK?”

      Squirrelpaw lifted her chin. “I’m fine. All I want to do is get