Hollypaw stiffened. Half-blinded by the piercing wind, she peered at the distant hillside rising up to the gray horizon. She could make out the shape of black-and-white dogs streaking over the heather. A Twoleg stood close by, waving its forelegs and whistling like a shrill bird giving an alarm.

Are the dogs hunting the Twoleg?

She watched more closely. No. The Twoleg seemed to be using the dogs to hunt the sheep; when it pointed with its forelegs, the dogs chased the animals across the grass, sending them into a frightened, bleating huddle. With any luck, the sheep would keep the dogs distracted long enough for the patrol to make it to the WindClan camp.

Brambleclaw was scouring the slope. “No sign of WindClan,” he meowed. “And judging by the markers, they haven’t been here for a while.”

“That’s because they’ve been too busy hunting in our forest,” Sandstorm growled.

“Should we go back and tell Firestar?” Brackenfur wondered.

Brambleclaw flexed his claws. “Not without speaking to Onestar.” He padded across the border and, with a flick of his tail, ordered the patrol to follow.

Hollypaw’s heart was racing as she followed Brackenfur through the heather into WindClan territory. The wind tugged at her fur as Brambleclaw led them on, chin high, ears pricked for danger.

As they crossed a muddy dip and began to climb the slope beyond, Hollypaw felt more and more wary. Something was wrong. She tasted the air, wrinkling her nose against the sheep stench. Where were the birds and rabbits? She sniffed again. No WindClan, no birds, no rabbits. It was as though the land had been deserted by everything but the sheep and the dogs.

Brambleclaw halted suddenly, his hackles rising. Alarmed, Hollypaw looked up. A boulder rose like a giant paw from the grassy slope, and on it she saw the shape of a cat silhouetted against the hillside. WindClan!

“Stay where you are!”

Hollypaw recognized Harespring, a young brown and white tom.

He crouched, bristling, and glared down at them. “Isn’t there enough prey in ThunderClan territory?”

“How dare he accuse us?” Sandstorm hissed.

“Careful,” Brambleclaw whispered. “We are on his territory.”

Two more cats appeared beside Harespring—Ashfoot, the WindClan deputy, and Owlwhisker. The wind slicked their fur, but there was no doubt they were angry. Their eyes glittered with rage.

Before Ashfoot could speak, Brambleclaw took a step forward. “We’ve come to speak with Onestar.”

“We come in peace,” Sandstorm assured her.

“Go back to your own territory!” Ashfoot ordered.

Brambleclaw held his ground. “Not until we’ve seen Onestar.”

Owlwhisker narrowed his eyes. “ThunderClan should stop thinking they can come and go on WindClan territory as they please!” The light brown tom drew back his lips, his teeth yellow beneath. “I bet you don’t visit Blackstar this often!”

“Just go home,” Ashfoot growled. “Onestar doesn’t owe you any favors.” Her unsheathed claws scratched white marks into the stone.