“Thanks!” she gasped.

Crag’s eyes gleamed with humor. “Anytime,” he purred. “Just ask.”

“How much farther do we have to go?” Foxleap asked, flicking his ears to shake snow off them.

“You see the pine tree over there?” Swoop pointed with her tail. “The one blasted by lightning? That’s the next border marker.”

“When we get there, we’ll have covered half the border,” Crag added. “Then we can head back. We’ll keep looking out for prey, though.”

Dovewing sighed as she looked at the withered pine tree. It was halfway up the opposite side of the valley; it looked a long, long way away.

“Prey!” Foxleap muttered into her ear. “Only the skeleton of a squirrel could live in that blackened tree.”

In spite of her discomfort, Dovewing let out an amused mrrow. “At least we could chew on the bones!”

Following Crag, the patrol slogged down into the valley, across a frozen stream, and up the far slope. They had almost reached the tree when Dovewing heard a yowl of alarm, followed by the screeches of a cat in pain. Wings beat furiously, and paws thudded on hard stone. For a heartbeat she froze. Obviously her companions hadn’t heard anything, but the sounds went on, growing louder and more agonized. Spinning around, Dovewing stared across the valley.

Are Tribe cats in trouble?

Much farther up the slope on the other side, she spotted a knot of cats thrashing in the snow. A huge gold-brown bird hovered over them, striking out with hooked talons.

“Look!” Dovewing called.

Splash glanced around, narrowing her eyes. “It looks like the intruders have got into trouble with an eagle.” Her voice was grim. “Serves them right. They’re inside our territory!”

“Shouldn’t we go help?” Dovewing asked.

Swoop shrugged. “They’ll have to learn to defend themselves, like our ancestors did.”

“But we can’t just watch them be killed!” Foxleap protested.

“The eagle won’t kill all of them,” Crag meowed calmly. “It might take one, that’s all.”

The light of battle gleamed in Foxleap’s eyes. “When Clans have a common enemy,” he meowed, “we unite to defend ourselves. We have to help those cats!”

Swoop still looked doubtful, but Splash nodded reluctantly. “He’s right, you know. We can’t just stand here and watch. And if we help, they might owe us any prey they’ve caught!”

Crag hesitated, then nodded and set off, waving his tail for the others to follow him. As she drew closer, Dovewing was almost deafened by the shrieks of horror and pain. That eagle isn’t giving up!

Racing over a low crest, they scrambled up the opposite slope toward the battle. Four cats were fighting with an enormous eagle. The eagle’s talons were fixed in the pelt of a brown-and-white she-cat; her paws waved feebly while the other three cats leaped and clawed at the bird’s wings.

“That’s Flora!” Splash exclaimed.

“Splash, you take the farthest wing with Swoop,” Crag ordered. “I’ll take the nearest. Wait for my signal.”

“What can we do?” Dovewing called.