by Erin Hunter
“Good for catching fish.”
“Fish?”
“Mice too,” the tom added. “Any prey that’s quick.”
“Can I try?”
“Of course.”
As she flattened herself to the ground, the tom sat up and wrapped his bushy tail over his paws.
“What’s your sister like?” he asked.
The apprentice was focusing on a long blade of grass a tail-length ahead. “She’s clever,” she mewed, pulling herself slowly forward. “And funny.” She crept closer to the grass. “And the bravest cat I know.” With a lunge, she snapped at the grass stem, grabbing it in her jaws before spitting it out, coughing. “Yuck! Bitter!”
The tom purred. “I suppose you mean the grass, not your sister.”
“Of course!”
A faint yowl drifted across the meadow. A cat was calling.
The she-cat turned her head. “I’ve got to go now.” She started to pad toward the voice, the grass stroking her back.
The tom called after her, “Don’t you want to know my name?”
The apprentice turned, blinking.
“I’m Hawkfrost.”
“Good-bye, Hawkfrost.” The name felt strange on her tongue.
“Aren’t you going to tell me yours?”
“Oh, yes. It’s Ivypaw.”
Ivypaw shook herself awake, surprised to feel chilly air around her muzzle after the warmth of her dream. Cinderheart was peering through the den entrance. “Ivypaw!” she hissed.
Dovepaw was still asleep, tired after the Gathering, and Cinderheart was clearly trying not to wake her. But Blossompaw’s, Briarpaw’s, and Bumblepaw’s nests were all empty.
Dazed from her dream, Ivypaw hauled herself to her paws. “Coming!” She picked her way on half-numb legs past Dovepaw’s nest and padded out into the damp dawn air. Briarpaw and her littermates were pacing the clearing, Blossompaw mumbling under her breath as though running through answers while Bumblepaw kept stopping to crouch and pounce.
Ivypaw remembered through the haze of her dream that today was their final assessment. Mist hung in the camp, shrouding the dens so they looked eerie and far away. The dawn sky was obscured by thick, dark clouds.
Ivypaw shivered. “What did you want?” she asked Cinderheart.
Her mentor was already halfway across the clearing, heading to where Hazeltail, Mousewhisker, and Thornclaw sat like stones, eyeing their apprentices with anxious interest.
Ivypaw glanced up, past the rocky walls of the hollow and the trees crowding the rim. The clouds were darker than ever. There would be rain before long. Ivypaw shuddered. Why couldn’t she have lingered longer in her dream meadow with Hawkfrost?
“The assessment will be carried out in pairs this time,” Cinderheart told Ivypaw. “We need you to pair up with Blossompaw.”
“No way!” Blossompaw’s horrified mew took Ivypaw by surprise. “She’s not properly trained! Can’t I have Dovepaw? At least she can hunt.”
Ivypaw glared at the tortoiseshell-and-white cat. “I know how to hunt!” Hawkfrost had just taught her two new moves!
“You’ve hardly caught more than a mouse!” Blossompaw complained. “Dovepaw’s brilliant! She can hear prey anywhere!”
Self-conscious and disappointed, Ivypaw felt her shoulders begin to sink.
You’re just as good as your sister.
The words rang in her head. Another voice, not here, though she couldn’t place it. She straightened up and lifted her chin. “I’ll do my best,” she promised. “Besides, you’re the one being assessed, not me.”
“Well said, Ivypaw.” Hazeltail padded through the mist and stood beside her apprentice. “Ivypaw is doing you a favor,” she scolded Blossompaw. “You should be doing the work, not her.”
The warriors’ den rustled as Dustpelt and Spiderleg padded out. “Are we ready to go?” Spiderleg asked, yawning.
Cinderheart nodded. “You’ll be assessing Bumblepaw with Hazeltail,” she informed him. “I’ll help Mousewhisker with Briarpaw. Dustpelt, you and Thornclaw can assess Blossompaw.”
Hazeltail looked surprised. “So we’re not assessing our own apprentices?”
“Firestar wants us to try a different way,” Cinderheart reminded the small gray-and-white she-cat.
“Firestar has a new training technique every moon these days,” Thornclaw muttered, padding toward the entrance. “This is pointless,” he growled. “By the time we’ve figured out this way of training, Firestar will have come up with something else.” He disappeared through the tunnel, the mist closing after him.
“Come on,” Cinderheart urged.
Ivypaw hurried after Blossompaw and her littermates as they pushed their way out of the camp.
“You two will hunt by the lake,” Cinderheart announced. She signaled to Briarpaw and Bumblepaw with her tail and the apprentices darted away, heading for the shore. Cinderheart looked at Ivypaw. “Be careful,” she warned. “Don’t forget you’re just helping. You’ve got nothing to prove.”
Except that I’m as good a hunter as my sister. Wait till they see what I learned in my dream!
Ivypaw dug her claws into the soft, damp earth as she watched Cinderheart trot toward the lake with Mousewhisker, Hazeltail, and Spiderleg, quickening their pace as their apprentices hared off, clearly keen to make their first catch.
“Where are we hunting?” Blossompaw asked Dustpelt.
Dustpelt glanced questioningly at Thornclaw. “The abandoned Twolegplace?”
The golden brown warrior nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
Blossompaw flicked Ivypaw’s flank with her tail-tip. “Come on.” She pelted into the trees and Ivypaw raced after her, wishing she had longer legs as the older apprentice gathered speed and leaped the ruts and gullies in easy strides.
She was panting by the time she spotted the cracked stones of the abandoned Twolegplace. Blossompaw was waiting on the wall surrounding the tumbledown nest. “You can’t even keep up,” she scoffed.
“We’re supposed to be showing them we can work together,” Ivypaw snapped.
“Like I’m going to give you the chance to hold me back.” Blossompaw jumped down from the wall and headed past the plants Jayfeather had carefully nurtured. The scent of them made Ivypaw’s mouth water, but she knew the warning given to every Clan cat: Stay away from the catmint. It was the only cure for greencough, and more precious than poppy seeds.
As she disappeared around the corner of the wall, Blossompaw called over her shoulder, “Just stay out of my way!”
Ivypaw’s heart quickened with rage. How come everyone thought Dovepaw was so great and she was just a mouse-brain? I’ll show them!
She padded past the wall and ducked into the echoing Twoleg den. A jagged stone slope rose up to a hole in the roof and she scooted up it and peeked through a gap in the wall at the top. Blossompaw was tracking something in the unkempt grass below. Ivypaw couldn’t see what, but the tortoiseshell apprentice was moving intently through the tangled weeds.
Suddenly Ivypaw spotted movement at the bottom of the wall. Peering to see what it was, she pushed away a wave of dizziness, then turned and pelted down the jagged slope, the neatly cornered stones a blur beneath her paws. Treading lightly but fast, she nipped out of the nest and darted around the corner. There it was! A squirrel, rummaging in the plants at the bottom of the wall.
Remembering Hawkfrost’s instructions, she crouched down, keeping her back low so that it didn’t brush the branches arching from the rocks.
The squirrel was busy feasting on seeds it had shaken from a clump of dried-up flowers. Ivypaw slowed, preparing, letting awareness spread through her muscles, then sprang, flattening her back as she swerved around the plants. Her paws reached the squirrel with a curling swipe before it could see her and she grasped it and nipped it with a single killing bite.
Thanks, Hawkfrost!
“Impressive!” Thornclaw’s mew startled her and she swung around, the squirrel dangling from her jaws. The w
arrior was trotting toward her with Dustpelt on his tail.
“Where did you learn that move?” Dustpelt asked, his eyes wide. “You looked like you were hooking a fish out of water!”
Ivypaw gazed back innocently. There was no reason she had to give away her secret. “I guess it was just…instinct.”
The tall weeds beside them swished and Blossompaw came stomping out. “What’s all the noise about?” she spat. “I was stalking a rat and you scared it away!”
Dustpelt tipped his head to one side. “Weren’t you helping to catch this squirrel?”
“I thought you were working in pairs,” Thornclaw added.
Blossompaw bristled. “She was supposed to be helping me, not the other way around.”
You told me to stay out of the way! Ivypaw glared at her denmate but kept her mouth shut.
“Then why was she here while you were trawling through the undergrowth?” Dustpelt queried. “You’re supposed to be organizing a hunting pair. You should have told her where you wanted her.”
“Okay,” Blossompaw huffed. She flicked her tail at Ivypaw. “Come with me.” Turning, she pushed her way back into the jungle of weeds.
Ivypaw dropped the squirrel and flashed a rueful glance at the two warriors before following.
“What did you have to show me up for?” Blossompaw hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. “This is my assessment, remember?”
“Okay, then.” Ivypaw was still feeling pleased from her catch. “What do you want me to do?”
Blossompaw nodded toward the pine trees on the far side of the abandoned Twoleg nest. “We’ll hunt in there.”
They padded between the trunks. The crowded trees blocked the daylight, which was dull anyway. Ivypaw could taste the coming rain. Wisps of mist still lingered, but little undergrowth thrived here and it was easy to spot prey.
“There!” Blossompaw hissed.
A blackbird was rooting along the needle-strewn floor. There was no cover to hide their approach, but if they worked as a team, they might be able to trap it between them.
“Perfect,” Blossompaw murmured. “You head that way; I’ll come at it from the other side.” She nodded Ivypaw away, adding, “Keep low, and don’t drag your paws.”
“I’m not a kit!” Ivypaw hissed back.
Before Blossompaw could give her any more obvious instructions, she crept fast between the trees, keeping down but not letting her belly or tail brush the floor. She fixed her eyes on the blackbird, not allowing her gaze to stray even when trees passed between her and their quarry. It had hold of a worm and was struggling to drag it out of the ground.
Blossompaw’s pelt flashed at the edge of Ivypaw’s vision. She ignored it, padding closer and closer until she was only a few tail-lengths from the bird. Then she halted. This is Blossompaw’s assessment, she reminded herself, fighting the urge to pounce. She knew she could get it, with Hawkfrost’s lesson still fresh in her mind.
Where was Blossompaw? The blackbird was winning the struggle with the worm. It would fly away any moment. Ivypaw narrowed her eyes. Perhaps she should catch it, just to make sure. She began to waggle her haunches, ready to leap.
A flash of tortoiseshell fur made her freeze as Blossompaw flew at the bird, paws outstretched, hind legs hitting the ground a moment too early. She managed to clasp the blackbird in her forepaws but there was no grace in the catch. The blackbird struggled, frantic wings battering the earth and sending pine needles flying while Blossompaw regained her balance enough to make the killing bite.
Hawkfrost would have sneered at such a clumsy catch. For a moment the scent of night washed over Ivypaw’s tongue, bringing a vivid image of the warrior tom to her mind and the dark forest musk that clung to his thick pelt.
Was he a StarClan cat? Had he come especially to teach her?
Dovepaw has never been visited by StarClan! Ivypaw felt a prick of satisfaction. She would have told me.
Rain began to patter on the canopy high overhead as Dustpelt and Thornclaw caught up. Dustpelt was carrying Ivypaw’s squirrel. He dropped it and nodded toward the blackbird. “Nicely caught.”
Thornclaw shrugged. “Whatever Firestar says, I don’t see the point of hunting in pairs. Blossompaw would have caught it if Ivypaw were somewhere else catching her own prey.” He snorted. “Seems like a waste of warriors.” He glanced up as the rain grew heavier and began to drip through the branches. It splashed on his nose, making him sneeze.
“Come on,” he meowed, shaking his head. “I think we’ve seen enough. Let’s get back to camp before the downpour starts.”
Blossompaw lashed her tail. “But I’ve only caught one bird!”
The rain began to pound through the trees until the pine needles bounced on the forest floor.
“We’ve seen enough,” Thornclaw repeated. He flicked his tail toward the squirrel. “You may as well carry your own catch,” he told Ivypaw.
Pleased at the thought of walking into camp carrying such a fat piece of prey, Ivypaw grasped the squirrel in her jaws and began to head through the trees.
By the time they reached the thorn barrier, the forest was drenched. Ivypaw could hardly see her Clanmates through the fog of rain. Her paws squelched on the muddy forest floor, each sucking pawstep filling with water behind her. After so many moons of drought, the elders couldn’t complain now. There was enough water to fill the lake even if every stream dried up.
Blossompaw trotted past Ivypaw, quickening her pace to enter camp first, and tripped on the wing of the blackbird. “Fox dung!” She cursed through her mouthful of feathers. “One wretched bird while you have to catch a squirrel!” She glared at Ivypaw. “If I fail this assessment, it’s all your fault.”
She ducked into the tunnel, leaving Ivypaw startled. At the start of the morning Blossompaw had been complaining that she’d be no help. Now she was upset because Ivypaw had been too much help.
Ivypaw dragged the squirrel through the thorn tunnel. Whitewing and Millie hurried to greet them.
“You’re the first back,” Millie meowed.
Whitewing’s eyes glowed with pride as she gazed at the squirrel hanging in her daughter’s jaws. “Well done!”
Millie glanced at Blossompaw’s blackbird. “You two obviously work well together.”
Yeah, right!
Ivypaw lifted her chin to keep the squirrel out of the mud as she carried it to the fresh-kill pile.
Dovepaw ducked out from the apprentices’ den, her shoulders hunched against the battering rain. “Great catch!” she called. “It’s nearly as big as you!”
“Thanks.” Pride rushed through Ivypaw as she dropped the squirrel beside Blossompaw’s blackbird. She wanted to tell Dovepaw about Hawkfrost. She glanced around the clearing. Millie and Graystripe were crowding around Blossompaw to find out how the assessment had gone, while Thornclaw and Dustpelt sheltered beneath Highledge, conferring with Firestar.
“Come with me.” Ivypaw beckoned with her tail before scooting toward the thorns.
“Why?” Dovepaw sounded puzzled as she hurried after her. “What’s going on?”
Wait till she hears how a StarClan cat taught me how to hunt!
Ivypaw was bubbling with excitement. She slid through the tunnel and waited in the clearing outside, pummeling the muddy earth impatiently till Dovepaw caught up.
“What is it?” Dovepaw’s eyes were wide.
Ivypaw glanced around, making sure no cat was listening. “A StarClan cat came to see me,” she breathed.
“When?” Dovepaw blinked away raindrops.
“In my dream!” Ivypaw explained. “He was teaching me how to hunt!”
Dovepaw leaned closer. “Tell me more.”
Suddenly Ivypaw felt self-conscious. Did Dovepaw believe her or was she humoring her? Perhaps it had just been an ordinary dream. “This cat…” She fumbled for words. “He taught me some new hunting moves….”
Dovepaw was staring at her. “Who was it?”
“It was…”
/> The undergrowth shivered. “What are you doing out here?” Brightheart burst from a clump of ferns, panting. She was clearly racing for the shelter of the hollow. “You’ll catch your death!” She circled them, pressing them toward the thorn tunnel. “Inside, both of you! What would Whitewing say? Or Jayfeather? We don’t want to start leaf-bare with a medicine den full of sneezing apprentices!”
Sparking with frustration, Ivypaw allowed herself to be herded into camp. Praying the apprentices’ den would be empty, she headed straight for it, beckoning to Dovepaw. Her sister kept close as they slipped into the dry den and shook the rain from their fur.
Ivypaw turned and started to explain about Hawkfrost. “He was a warrior….”
“Dovepaw!” Lionblaze was calling through the den wall.
Ivypaw unsheathed her claws. Can’t he wait?
“Sorry.” Dovepaw looked apologetic as she backed outside. Ivypaw ripped a pawful of bracken from her nest and flung it down. Dovepaw was always racing off to talk to warriors without her. Didn’t she care about her? And since when did the least experienced cats run the Clan? Couldn’t Lionblaze manage a few moments without his precious apprentice?
The yew bush shivered as Blossompaw, Briarpaw, and Bumblepaw came bouncing in, water spraying from their pelts. “We passed! We passed!”
“Great!” Ivypaw slunk into her nest. “Congratulations!” She closed her eyes, blocking her ears to the mews of excitement as her denmates congratulated one another. If she went to sleep, Hawkfrost might teach her some more hunting moves until she wasn’t just as good as her sister—she was better. Then the Clan might start paying some attention to her as well.
CHAPTER 11
Rain dripped at the mouth of Firestar’s den. As Jayfeather slid in, he brought a scattering of raindrops with him. Lionblaze shuffled closer to Dovepaw.
“Any news?” Firestar asked. He glanced uneasily at his den entrance, as though he was afraid they would be disturbed.
Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Dovepaw shook their heads.
“No word from StarClan,” Jayfeather mewed.
“No more ShadowClan scents on our side of the border,” Lionblaze reported.
