“We don’t know why they’re doing it,” Firestar meowed. “But we must find out before we react.”

“It’s obvious why they’re doing it!” Brambleclaw burst out. “They’re greedy.”

“We can’t be sure of that.” Firestar remained calm.

“We should post a patrol at the border,” Sandstorm declared, “and attack them next time they cross.”

Firestar glanced at his mate, narrowing his eyes. “I know how you feel, Sandstorm. But that’s not the best way to deal with this. I want to avoid bloodshed if we can.”

Sandstorm’s hackles rose. “They’re stealing our food!”

“And we’re not going to let them get away with it,” Firestar insisted. “But there’s no point rushing into battle before we know what’s going on.”

Sandstorm glared back. “Don’t you fight anyone anymore?”

“I’ll fight if I have to!” Firestar held her gaze. “But I won’t spill blood if reason can solve the problem.”

“We’ve tried reasoning with WindClan before,” Brambleclaw argued. “You act like they’re still our allies.”

Firestar shook his head. “I know they stopped being our allies long ago.” Wistfulness clouded his gaze. “The Clans are all rivals now.”

Hollypaw stared at her leader. Is he remembering the Great Journey? Six cats from the Clans traveled together to save them all. Or perhaps he was thinking of their most recent trek into the mountains. Hollypaw felt a tremor of doubt. Perhaps that journey hadn’t been such a good idea. Perhaps the blurring of the Clans led to the blurring of borders. And if borders were blurred, how could prey be shared fairly? There had to be rules, or only those who were prepared to fight all the time would survive! That was why StarClan wanted them to live by the warrior code. We need the warrior code as much as we need food and water! Hollypaw dug her claws into the ground. The Clans depended on the code; it was as simple as that.

“So what’s your plan?” Brambleclaw asked.

“I want you to go to Onestar,” Firestar told him. “Take Sandstorm, Brackenfur, and Hollypaw. Find out why he’s doing this. Tell him we’re increasing border patrols, and that if we catch any prey-thieves, we’ll deal with them, claws unsheathed.”

“Very well,” Brambleclaw agreed. “We’ll leave at once.” The deputy turned and headed for the gorse tunnel, Brackenfur and Sandstorm at his heels.

I’ve got to tell Lionpaw what’s happening! Hollypaw scanned the clearing. Her brother’s tail was sticking out of the elders’ den. He must be cleaning out their nests.

She darted toward him.