The Forgotten Warrior

by Erin Hunter

  Within a few heartbeats the cave was full of leaping cats. Dovewing took Ivypool as her partner. It took a few tries before either of them could do the move effectively.

  “This is hard!” Ivypool panted. “But it might come in handy you-know-where,” she added in a lower voice.

  “Think of it as stalking and pouncing on prey,” Dovewing mewed. “I’ve found that helps.”

  “Okay,” Hollyleaf called. “Now I want to try something else. Brightheart, you’ve developed new fighting moves to take advantage of your blind side. Is there anything you can tell us that would help us here?”

  Brightheart dipped her head, clearly pleased at being invited to contribute. “I’m used to darkness on one side,” she began, “so the darkness down here doesn’t bother me all that much. You need to make sure you’re using your whiskers and your tail-tip. They’ll help you judge how far away you are from the tunnel walls.”

  Hollyleaf nodded. “Let’s try a practice round to show us how that works. Ivypool, come and fight with her.”

  Ivypool leaped forward and tried to trap Brightheart against the cave wall. But Brightheart seemed to know exactly where she was without needing to look behind her. She slid to one side and raked her paw down Ivypool’s flank.

  “Great!” Ivypool wheezed, struggling to get her breath back. “If your claws were out, I’d be crow-food.”

  Brightheart repeated the sequence, but this time slowed down her moves so that every cat could see how she used her tail and whiskers. “Don’t forget you can’t always see your enemy down here,” she added. “You’ll need to use hearing and scent much more than you do when you’re fighting out in the open.”

  “Good point,” Hollyleaf meowed. “We’ll do an exercise now to practice that. I’m going to take you into the tunnels one by one, and leave you there. You have to find your way back to us by listening and smelling.”

  “What if we can’t?” Thornclaw asked with a twitch of his tail-tip.

  “Then I’ll come and get you, mouse-brain,” Hollyleaf retorted. “Come on, you can be first. Meanwhile, the rest of you can practice Brightheart’s moves.”

  She disappeared into a nearby tunnel, with Thornclaw trailing reluctantly after her. Dovewing was surprised when the tabby warrior returned soon after Hollyleaf, giving himself a couple of complacent licks as he emerged into the cave again.

  “Good,” Hollyleaf mewed. “Now you, Dovewing.”

  Hollyleaf led the way down a series of tunnels that twisted and branched so that Dovewing knew she would never have found the way out again without something to guide her.

  “All right, this’ll do,” Hollyleaf told her as they reached a dead end. “Wait for as long as it takes to eat a mouse, and then follow me back.”

  Dovewing waited much longer than that. Thanks to her special senses she could pick up the sounds of the cats in the cavern and knew exactly where she had to go. She didn’t want to give her powers away, so she tried to judge how long she should have taken before she rejoined them. From the moderate praise Hollyleaf gave her, Dovewing guessed her calculations had been right.

  Toadstep was the last cat to go. Growing tired, the rest of the cats had stopped practicing and waited in the cave as the moments dragged out and he didn’t reappear.

  “Hollyleaf, do you think—” Brightheart began.

  A panic-stricken yowl interrupted her, seeming to come from right inside the walls of the cave. “I’m lost! I can’t get out!”

  “It’s okay!” Hollyleaf called back. “We can hear you. You can’t be far away.”

  “But I can’t find the right tunnel!”

  “Just keep calm,” Hollyleaf instructed him. “Let your senses go still before you try again. Now taste the air for scent. Is it stronger in one direction?”

  There was a pause before Toadstep answered, “I . . . I think so.”

  “Okay, try that.”

  A few heartbeats’ silence passed before Toadstep popped out of the tunnel entrance again. “Thank StarClan!” he exclaimed.

  “If you get lost down here,” Hollyleaf addressed the whole group of cats, “it’s vital not to panic. There’s always something that will tell you the right way. Pay attention to the direction of the airflow. And if the air feels damp and heavy, that means the tunnel will go deeper.”

  “And head for the light, right?” Ivypool added.

  Hollyleaf hesitated. “Mostly . . . but don’t forget that some cracks reach far, far down into the rock. They don’t necessarily offer a way out. Like that one,” she added, gesturing with her tail toward the gap in the cave roof.

  “What next?” Toadstep asked.

  “Next we go back to camp,” Hollyleaf replied. “It’s been a really good session, but we’re all tired now.”

  “We’ve learned a lot,” Dovewing meowed. “Thanks, Hollyleaf.”

  Murmurs of agreement came from the other cats as Hollyleaf led them back through the tunnels. The sun was setting by the time they emerged, and shadows lay thick under the trees as they padded back through the twilit forest.

  “Hollyleaf’s training will be really useful for night fighting, too,” Brackenfur remarked.

  “Yeah, we could practice that,” Toadstep agreed eagerly. “I’ve got another idea, too. Down in the tunnels, we could think of ways of getting our enemies lost.”

  Ivypool nodded. “Maybe work out a system of signs so that we know where we are but the WindClan cats don’t?”

  “Or we could work on ways of luring them into an ambush,” Dovewing added, her pads tingling with excitement. “WindClan won’t know what hit them!”

  As the entrance to the hollow came into sight, Toadstep halted and gazed through the shadowy trees toward the WindClan border. “Let them come!” he yowled, his neck fur bristling and his tail lashing. “We are ready!”

  Chapter 22

  “Hi, Dovewing, Ivypool!” Foxleap called as they emerged from the thorns at the rear of Hollyleaf’s training patrol.

  The last streaks of scarlet were fading from the sky and half the stone hollow lay in deep shadow. Most of the other patrols seemed to have returned, too, and almost the whole Clan was settling down to eat. Ivypool looked across the camp to see Foxleap sitting beside Bumblestripe near the fresh-kill pile.

  “Come and share our squirrel!” Foxleap added.

  Ivypool raced across the clearing with Dovewing at her shoulder. She noticed the welcoming purr that Bumblestripe gave her sister, and how he made room for her to sit next to him and eat.

  “How was the training?” Foxleap prompted.

  Every muscle in Ivypool’s body was aching as she flopped down and bit into the prey. “We learned loads,” she mumbled around the mouthful of fresh-kill.

  “Yes, all about how to fight underground,” Dovewing put in. “You have to keep your moves small, and not bang your paws against the walls.”

  “And Hollyleaf taught us to push off the tunnel wall and leap over our enemies,” Ivypool mewed, swallowing the squirrel. “That’s so you don’t get trapped.”

  “Wow, it sounds tough!” Foxleap commented.

  “It is,” Dovewing admitted, “but it’s kind of logical, too. You’ll see, when it’s your turn.”

  “This is a great squirrel,” Ivypool meowed, taking another huge bite. “Who caught it?”

  “Actually, it was me,” Bumblestripe confessed, giving his shoulder an embarrassed lick. “I was lucky to get it.”

  “No, it was a brilliant catch,” Foxleap insisted. “Especially since you were on your own. Cinderheart was supposed to be in our hunting patrol,” he explained, “but she said she wanted to stay here in the hollow and help Jayfeather.”

  Dovewing’s whiskers twitched in surprise. “What did Brambleclaw say?”

  Bumblestripe shrugged. “Not much. What could he say? He would never challenge a medicine cat, would he?”

  “But is Cinderheart a medicine cat?” Foxleap asked.

  Ivypool felt a pang of sympathy for Cinderheart
; she knew very well what it was like to have a paw in two worlds. But when the gray she-cat emerged a moment later from Jayfeather’s den and padded over to eat with Hollyleaf, she seemed contented enough.

  Maybe she’s found her destiny after all, Ivypool thought.

  A few moments later, Jayfeather emerged from the den and bounded across to the fresh-kill pile, where he chose a mouse for himself.

  Cinderheart looked up from the vole she was sharing with Hollyleaf. “Jayfeather, should I sleep in your den from now on?”

  Ivypool realized that the gray she-cat wasn’t contented at all. She was trying to put a brave face on her situation, but underneath it she seemed confused and unhappy.

  “We wanted to talk to you about that,” Brackenfur mewed, padding up to Jayfeather with Sorreltail beside him. “About everything, really.”

  “Yes,” Sorreltail joined in. “What does it all mean, that Cinderheart used to be Cinderpelt? Why has StarClan done this to her?”

  Jayfeather shook his head. “I don’t know. It was their decision.”

  Sorreltail padded up to her daughter and pressed her muzzle comfortingly against Cinderheart’s shoulder. “I love you for who you are,” she murmured. “And that is Cinderheart.”

  Cinderheart looked up at her with pain in her blue eyes. “But I don’t know if I am Cinderheart anymore. Jayfeather, should I sleep in your den or not?”

  Jayfeather hesitated. “You don’t have to, but—”

  Millie interrupted by springing to her paws and stalking forward, her tail-tip twitching. “What about Briarlight?” she demanded. “I don’t want her moved out of the den just to make room for Cinderheart. What if she stops breathing in the night?”

  “I don’t think that’s likely,” Jayfeather responded. He raised his tail to stop Millie as she drew breath for another protest. “But I don’t want Briarlight moved either,” he added. “She’s really useful where she is.”

  Briarlight, who was sharing a sparrow with Graystripe, blinked. “I’m fine,” she mewed. “I don’t mind where I am.”

  “But there isn’t room for three cats in there,” Brightheart pointed out, joining the discussion. “You’d all be really squashed.”

  “And what if you need space for sick cats?” Leafpool added.

  Ivypool felt her head start to spin as more cats joined in to add their opinions, and she couldn’t follow the argument anymore. A flash of flame caught her eye and she spotted Firestar bounding down from the Highledge.

  “Brackenfur, Dustpelt,” the Clan leader meowed as he approached the fresh-kill pile, flicking his tail to summon the two toms. “Do you think that we could make more space in the medicine cat’s den, along with the warriors’ den?”

  Dustpelt and Brackenfur turned to eye the fallen tree.

  “It might work,” Dustpelt murmured, tilting his head to one side. “What do you think, Brackenfur? If we could move that branch there, and pack the space with brambles . . .”

  Ivypool was distracted from the warriors’ plans when Hollyleaf padded across to her and Dovewing. “Are you still okay with me sharing your den?” she meowed.

  “Of course,” Ivypool replied at once. Now that she was over the shock of Hollyleaf’s reappearance, she thought that the black warrior was one of the most intriguing cats she had ever met. She wanted to know her better. “You can stay as long as you want.”

  “What was it like, living in the tunnels for such a long time?” Dovewing asked curiously; Ivypool thought that she looked more confident around Hollyleaf since their training session underground.

  Hollyleaf shrugged. “Dark. Cold.”

  “Did you really not see any other cats?” Dovewing persisted.

  “And what did you do all day?” Bumblestripe added; he was still sitting close beside Dovewing and the remains of the squirrel.

  “No, I didn’t see any others,” Hollyleaf meowed. “As for what I did . . . stalked prey, explored the woods just outside the territory . . .”

  Ivypool could tell that she really didn’t want to talk about her exile from the Clan. She must have been so lonely . . . and felt so guilty about Ashfur, without any other cat to talk to. . . .

  Suddenly Hollyleaf let out a small mrrow of amusement. “Did Lionblaze ever tell you about the time he and I went hunting mice on the way to the mountains? We were only apprentices.”

  “No—tell us!” Ivypool urged her.

  “We were passing a farm,” Hollyleaf went on, tucking her paws under her chest. “The scent of mouse was so strong, and we were so hungry! So we sneaked away while the others were having a rest. Breezepelt was with us, too.”

  “Breezepelt!” Ivypool exclaimed, feeling her neck fur begin to fluff up.

  “Yes, he was there on the journey,” Hollyleaf told her. “Even though he is a pain in the tail, we had to let him come.”

  “What happened?” Dovewing prompted.

  “We got trapped in a barn by some dogs. I was scared out of my fur! Breezepelt nearly lost his tail, they got so close.”

  Ivypool leaned in. “How did you escape?”

  “Purdy rescued us,” Hollyleaf meowed.

  “Purdy!” Dovewing’s eyes stretched wide. “Purdy was there?”

  “Yes, we met him on the way.”

  “ThunderClan has good reason to be grateful to Purdy,” Squirrelflight purred, padding over to listen. “That wasn’t the first time he helped us. And it was more than you mouse-brains deserved.”

  “True,” Hollyleaf agreed. “We would have been crow-food without him.”

  “You almost were crow-food, once we found out what you’d done,” Squirrelflight added. “Walking straight into danger like that!”

  “And we never even got a taste of mouse!” Hollyleaf finished.

  “Maybe you should tell them about some of the mischief you got into when you were kits,” Sandstorm put in; she had been grooming herself on the edge of the group while Hollyleaf told her story. “I never thought the three of you would survive to be apprentices!”

  Hollyleaf glanced at the orange she-cat, then gave her chest fur a couple of licks. “That was a long time ago,” she murmured. Memories flickered in Hollyleaf’s eyes like minnows in a stream, but she said nothing more, to Ivypool’s disappointment.

  The discussion about Cinderheart was still going on around the fresh-kill pile. Ivypool glanced across as Firestar rose to his paws.

  “That’s settled then,” the Clan leader meowed. “Cinderheart will sleep in the warriors’ den for now, but she will be relieved of all warrior duties. That is what you want, Cinderheart?”

  The gray she-cat nodded. “Yes, that’s what I want, Firestar.”

  Ivypool thought that Firestar looked surprised and disappointed to hear the certainty in Cinderheart’s voice, but he didn’t argue with her.

  The Clan is losing a valuable warrior, Ivypool thought sadly. I know it’s useful to have another medicine cat, but . . . She shook her head. This is too weird.

  Murmurs of agreement had greeted Firestar’s announcement, although Ivypool noticed that Lionblaze was gazing forlornly at Cinderheart.

  Why would he be upset that she’s not a warrior anymore? Ivypool wondered. Oh . . . maybe he wanted to be her mate. Wow, that’s really bad luck. Cinderheart’s decision was causing ripples right across the Clan, like a stone thrown into the lake. Did StarClan realize what would happen when they decided to give her a second life?

  Ivypool slid softly through the undergrowth on the way to the ShadowClan border. The sky was clear and sunlight slanted down through the branches, but a brisk wind was fluttering the leaves and rustling the cats’ fur.

  Ivypool was pleased to have been chosen for Hollyleaf’s patrol, padding close behind her with Brackenfur and Berrynose bringing up the rear. As sunrise followed sunrise since Hollyleaf’s return, she had gained more and more respect for the black she-cat’s courage and her occasional sharp tongue. She knows how tough life can be, and she still keeps going.

  “H
ollyleaf is doing everything she can to fit into the Clan again.” Ivypool’s ears swiveled back to pick up Brackenfur’s low-voiced remark.

  “Yeah, she even takes on the worst chores to help the apprentices,” Berrynose murmured.

  Ivypool thought how unusual it was to hear Berrynose praising another cat, then remembered that it was Hollyleaf who had saved his kits from the fox.

  Brackenfur let out a faint mrrow of amusement. “Yes, to go on this patrol Brambleclaw had to drag her away from searching for the elders’ ticks!”

  Hollyleaf glanced back. “Less noise,” she ordered. “We’re getting close to the border.”

  Tasting the air, Ivypool picked up the reek of the ShadowClan scent markers, mingled with the scent of Twolegs. Emerging from the trees at the edge of the clearing, she saw that it was full of Twoleg pelt-dens, with Twolegs sitting or lying on the grass, or jumping up and down tossing brightly colored objects at one another.

  “What in StarClan’s name are they doing?” she muttered.

  Hollyleaf shrugged. “Maybe it’s a training exercise.”

  From farther downstream, Ivypool could hear the happy yowling of Twoleg kits as they splashed around at the edge of the lake. I wonder if they’re fishing, or just cooling their paws. They’ll scare all the fish away with that racket!

  Silently, swiftly, the four cats slipped across the clearing, avoiding the Twolegs. Ivypool wondered if Hollyleaf was tempted to set the markers at the ThunderClan side of the clearing, and leave the open grass to ShadowClan.

  “I can’t believe ShadowClan fought so hard to keep this useless bit of territory,” Brackenfur muttered.

  I can’t believe we fought so hard to win it, Ivypool thought. A sharp pang of guilt pierced her as she remembered how it had been her fault that ThunderClan had gone into battle. But now that it’s ours, we’re stuck with it. We have to set these wretched markers every day.

  All her fur stood up as she dodged around the pelt-dens; she hated being in the open like this, so close to Twolegs. And she couldn’t relax when they reached the opposite side, because now the scent of ShadowClan was all around them.