Nightshade paused at the edge of the trees. "Wait," she warned Cloudpaw. "We're near Twolegplace, so we have to be careful. What can you smell?"

Cloudpaw raised his nose obediently and sniffed. He and Nightshade had just been on the first long expedition of his apprenticeship, tracing the Clan boundaries and renewing the scent marks. Now they were near the edge of the forest, outside the garden where Cloudpaw's mother Princess lived.

"I can smell lots of cats," Cloudpaw mewed. "I don't recognize any of them, though."

Nightshade nodded and touched her apprentice's head gently. "Good," she mewed approvingly. Her shadow-essence stretched out beyond normal feline senses, detecting subtle nuances in the scents.

"They're mostly kittypets, and maybe a loner or two. Not Clan cats," she explained. She had caught a trace of Tigerclaw's scent, too, but she didn't draw Cloudpaw's attention to it. She remembered tracking Tigerclaw to this place before, and finding the deputy's scent mixed with the scents of many strange cats.

Now Tigerclaw's scent proved he had been here again. Nightshade still could not tell whether he had met the other cats, or whether their scents just happened to have crossed. But why should Tigerclaw come so close to the Twolegplace, when he despised Twolegs and everything to do with them?

"Nightshade, can we go and see my mother now?" Cloudpaw demanded, pawing the ground impatiently.

Nightshade nodded, her shadow-essence reaching out to detect any potential dangers—dogs, Twolegs, or hostile cats—but she found none. "Okay, let's go," she agreed.

Instructing Cloudpaw to wait, she leaped onto the fence and looked down into the garden. Lurid-colored flowers grew against the fence, and in the center of the grass, some Twoleg pelts hung on a spiky, leafless tree. "Princess?" she called softly. "Princess, are you there?"

Leaves quivered on a shrub close to the house, and the tabby-and-white figure of Princess stepped delicately onto the grass. When she saw Nightshade, her initial confusion quickly turned to recognition and welcome.

"Nightshade!" Princess called. Though they had met only a few times before, when Nightshade had brought news of Cloudpaw, the kittypet had always been friendly and open.

Bounding over to the fence, she sprang up beside Nightshade and greeted her warmly. "Nightshade, it's been such a long time!" she purred. "It's good to see you."

"I've brought someone else, too," Nightshade told her. "Look down there."

Princess peered over the fence to where Cloudpaw sat on the ground below, looking up at her. "Nightshade!" she exclaimed. "That couldn't be Cloudkit! He's grown so much!"

Nightshade smiled, feeling genuine warmth at this reunion. "He has," she confirmed, beckoning her apprentice over. "Come, Cloudpaw."

The young cat leaped gracefully onto the fence, balancing with newfound confidence that his early training had instilled. He studied Princess with curious blue eyes.

"Are you really my mother?" he asked.

"I really am," Princess purred, looking her son up and down admiringly. "Oh, it's so good to see you again, Cloudkit."

"Actually, I'm not Cloudkit," the fluffy white tom announced proudly. "I'm Cloudpaw now. I'm an apprentice."

"That's wonderful!" Princess began to cover her son with licks, purring so hard that she barely had breath enough for words. "Oh, you're so thin...do you get enough to eat? Have you made friends where you are? I hope you do what Nightshade tells you."

Cloudpaw didn't try to answer the flood of questions. He wriggled out from his mother's caresses and edged away from her along the fence. "I'll be a warrior soon," he boasted. "Nightshade's teaching me to fight."

Princess closed her eyes for a moment. "You will have to be so brave," she murmured. For a moment Nightshade thought she was regretting her decision to give her son to the Clan, but then she opened her eyes again and declared, "I'm so proud of both of you!"

Nightshade hummed softly, touched by the kittypet's generous spirit. "Thank you, Princess. It is truly an honor you grant me to train your son," she said with genuine respect.

Princess purred, her eyes warm. "Oh, stop that. You're my friend, Nightshade, no matter what origin you have." There was something in her tone that suggested she somehow sensed Nightshade's difference, though she couldn't possibly understand the true nature of shadow-walkers.

Nightshade blinked, surprised by the kittypet's perception. Most cats didn't notice anything unusual about her unless she actively used her shadow abilities.

"He's doing very well," she told Princess, changing the subject. "He has natural hunting skills and he's learning our ways quickly."

"Is he eating enough?" Princess asked anxiously. "He looks so thin compared to the cats around here."

Cloudpaw puffed out his chest. "I'm not thin, I'm strong! Kittypets are just fat and lazy."

"Cloudpaw!" Nightshade scolded. "Show some respect."

Princess didn't seem offended. She purred with amusement. "He has spirit. That will serve him well in your Clan." She turned her attention back to her son. "Tell me everything about your life there. What's it like?"

As Cloudpaw launched into exaggerated tales of his training, Nightshade kept her senses alert. Her shadow-essence detected a subtle shift in the air, the feeling of being watched. Carefully scanning their surroundings without appearing concerned, she spotted a dark tabby shape slipping between gardens further down the row of Twoleg nests.

Tigerclaw? It was too distant to be certain, but her shadow-essence rippled with warning. Whatever the deputy was doing near Twolegplace, she doubted it was innocent. She would need to investigate further when Cloudpaw wasn't with her.

"...and Nightshade says I'm the best hunter in the Clan!" Cloudpaw was saying, his blue eyes bright with pride.

"I said you have potential," Nightshade corrected gently. "If you continue to practice."

"How dangerous is it?" Princess asked softly. "Being in the forest, I mean."

Nightshade met her worried gaze steadily. "I won't lie to you, Princess. The forest has many dangers—other Clans, predators, weather, hunger in leaf-bare. But Cloudpaw is learning to face those challenges, and he has his Clanmates to protect him."

"And I'll protect them too!" Cloudpaw declared. "Just wait until I'm a warrior!"

Princess touched her nose to her son's ear. "I know you will," she murmured. "You always were the bravest of the litter." She turned to Nightshade. "Thank you for bringing him to visit. Will you come again?"

"When our duties allow," Nightshade promised. "But we can't make regular visits. Cloudpaw's life is with the Clan now."

Princess nodded her understanding, though sadness flickered in her eyes. "Just take care of him," she said. "And yourself too, Nightshade. There's something special about you—I sensed it the first time we met. You carry shadows with you, but they're not cold shadows."

Nightshade stiffened slightly, surprised again by the kittypet's intuition. "I'll protect him with my life," she promised, choosing not to address the observation directly.

After a few more moments of conversation, Nightshade nudged Cloudpaw. "We should return to camp. We've been gone most of the day, and you still have ticks to remove from the elders."

Cloudpaw groaned but didn't argue. He touched noses with his mother one last time. "Goodbye, Mother. I'll visit again someday."

"Goodbye, my brave one," Princess replied, her eyes shining with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Grow strong and wise."

As they leaped down from the fence and headed back toward the forest, Cloudpaw was unusually quiet. After they had walked a little way, he asked, "What did she mean about you carrying shadows?"

Nightshade kept her pace steady, not looking at him. "Kittypets often say strange things. They don't understand our ways."

"But she seemed to know something about you," Cloudpaw persisted. "Something different."

"We're all different in our own ways, Cloudpaw," Nightshade replied. "That's what makes a Clan strong. Now, tell me what you learned about the ShadowClan border today?"

As her apprentice launched into a recitation of boundary markers, Nightshade's thoughts returned to the glimpse of tabby fur she'd seen. Tigerclaw's activities near Twolegplace troubled her, especially combined with his conversations with Brokentail and his knowledge of her shadow-walker nature.

Something was building in ThunderClan—a gathering storm that threatened everything they held dear. And Nightshade was increasingly certain that when that storm broke, she would need every aspect of her shadow-essence to protect those she cared about.

Nightshade stopped on the way back so they could hunt. By the time she and Cloudpaw reached the ravine, the sun was near to setting, bathing the forest in red light and casting long shadows on the ground. Her shadow-essence grew more active in the lengthening darkness, attuning her senses to subtle movements and scents.

Cloudpaw was proudly carrying a shrew, which he was going to take to the elders. At least it filled his jaws and put a stop to his endless chatter. Nightshade was feeling worn out after a whole day in his company, but she had to admit she was more impressed than she had expected. Cloudpaw's courage and quick wits promised that he would make an exceptional warrior, even if his respect for the warrior code needed work.

As they slipped down the shadowy ravine toward the tunnel, Nightshade paused. An unfamiliar scent tickled her nostrils, drifting to her on the breeze that swept through the forest. Her shadow-essence stiffened with alertness.

Cloudpaw stopped too and put down the shrew. "Nightshade, what's that?" He tasted the air, and drew in his breath in a gasp. "You showed me that this morning. It's RiverClan!"

"Very good," Nightshade mewed tensely. She had recognized it herself a heartbeat before Cloudpaw spoke, her shadow-walker senses identifying not just the Clan but the individual cats. Looking up toward the top of the ravine, she could make out three cats picking their way slowly through the boulders. "RiverClan it is. And it seems they're on their way here. Now go back to the camp and tell Bluestar. Make sure she understands it's not an attack."

"But I want—" The young apprentice broke off as Nightshade frowned. "Sorry, Nightshade. I'm going." He padded off toward the tunnel entrance, not forgetting to pick up his shrew.

Nightshade stayed where she was, her form partially blending with the evening shadows as her essence responded instinctively to potential threat. She drew herself up and waited while the three cats drew closer. She recognized Leopardfur, Mistyfoot, and Stonefur—the latter two being Bluestar's children, though they didn't know it. When they were only a couple of tail-lengths away, she asked, "RiverClan, what do you want? Why are you on our land?" Though she had to challenge them for entering ThunderClan territory uninvited, she tried not to sound too hostile, especially knowing what she did about Mistyfoot and Stonefur's connection to ThunderClan.

Leopardfur stopped, with Mistyfoot and Stonefur just behind her. "We come in peace," she meowed. "There are matters to be settled between our Clans. Crookedstar has sent us to talk to your leader."

Nightshade's shadow-essence detected the tension in their postures. This was about Graystripe's kits—it had to be. She kept her expression neutral, though her mind raced with implications.

"I've sent word to Bluestar," she replied evenly. "You may follow me to camp, but understand you'll be escorted at all times."

Mistyfoot stepped forward, her blue eyes—so like Bluestar's—meeting Nightshade's directly. "We understand. Thank you for not assuming the worst of us. We truly do come peacefully."

"I was the one who told you about Silverstream," Nightshade acknowledged quietly. "I know you wouldn't dishonor her memory with unnecessary conflict."

Something like gratitude flickered in Mistyfoot's gaze. "You treated her with respect. RiverClan remembers that."

Stonefur, standing slightly behind his sister, gave a short nod of agreement. The resemblance between him and Bluestar was less obvious than with Mistyfoot, but to Nightshade's shadow-sensitive eyes, the connection was unmistakable.

"Follow me," Nightshade said, turning to lead them down into the ravine.

As they walked, Leopardfur drew alongside her. "You're the one they call shadow-walker," she remarked, her voice low enough that her companions couldn't hear.

Nightshade glanced at her sharply. "What do you know of that name?"

"Tales travel between Clans," the RiverClan deputy replied. "Especially unusual ones. They say you move like a shadow during battle—that you saved many of your Clanmates when WindClan and ShadowClan attacked."

"Cats say many things," Nightshade responded carefully.

"Indeed." Leopardfur studied her with a calculating gaze. "Including that you're close to Graystripe."

Ah, there it was—the real reason she had separated from the others to speak with Nightshade.

"He's my Clanmate," Nightshade said simply.

"And the kits?" Leopardfur pressed. "Would you fight to keep them in ThunderClan?"

Nightshade met her gaze steadily. "I would fight to protect innocent kits from being used as pawns in a conflict between Clans. They've lost their mother already. They deserve peace."

Leopardfur seemed about to reply, but they had reached the gorse tunnel. Nightshade gestured for the RiverClan cats to proceed ahead of her, ensuring they couldn't see how her shadow-essence had flared with protective instinct at the mention of the kits.

As they entered the camp, curious eyes turned toward them. Graystripe, who had been sharing tongues with Brackenfur near the warriors' den, froze when he saw the RiverClan patrol. Fear and defiance battled in his expression.

Bluestar was already emerging from her den, alerted by Cloudpaw. She stood tall on the Highrock, her blue gaze sweeping over the visitors.

"Leopardfur," she acknowledged, her voice carrying across the clearing. "You and your warriors are welcome to speak, though your presence is unexpected."

"Crookedstar sends us to discuss a matter of importance to both our Clans," Leopardfur replied formally.

"The kits," Bluestar stated rather than asked.

"Yes. The kits of Silverstream, daughter of our leader."

A tense silence fell over the clearing. Nightshade positioned herself carefully between the RiverClan patrol and the nursery, where Featherkit and Stormkit were being cared for. Her shadow-essence prepared itself, ready to act if necessary.

"We will speak in my den," Bluestar decided. "Whitestorm, Nightshade, you will join us." She paused, then added, "And Graystripe as well. This concerns him most of all."

As the group moved toward Bluestar's den, Nightshade exchanged a brief glance with Graystripe. His eyes were wide with fear, but determination showed in the set of his shoulders.

Whatever happened next would shape not just the future of the kits, but potentially relations between ThunderClan and RiverClan for seasons to come. And Nightshade knew, as she followed them toward Bluestar's den, that her shadow-walker abilities might be needed before this night was done.