by Erin Hunter
“I’ll do all my exercises,” Briarlight promised.
“I know you will,” Millie soothed. “And I’ll help you.”
“They make me tired, but they don’t hurt me.”
“Thank StarClan Bumblestripe and Blossomfall weren’t around to hear that.” Dovepaw jumped as Poppyfrost’s mew breathed in her ear. Closing her eyes, Dovepaw reached out with her senses until she could hear Bumblestripe and Blossomfall pounding along the shore, purring as they raced each other to the stream.
They were lucky. Safe in their small world, they couldn’t hear every sound.
Dovepaw glanced around the hollow. Leafpool had returned to her work. Berrynose had carried the sparrow from the fresh-kill pile and was busy gulping it down. Graystripe stood alone in the clearing. Snow was beginning to fall, and the tiny flakes caught in his pelt.
Dovepaw felt a pang of guilt. Her heart was light. She was going to meet Tigerheart tonight.
Chapter 10
Afternoon sunlight flashed through thinning clouds as Flametail slipped into the ShadowClan camp. He glanced guiltily around the clearing. He’d only planned to close his eyes for a moment beside the Moonpool, but he’d been so tired he’d woken to find the night gone and the bright air shimmering with snowflakes.
Ivytail was washing outside the nursery, and she looked up as Flametail crossed the snow-dusted clearing. He dipped his head and hurried past her in silence. He had to make his first report to his mentor and then to Blackstar.
As Flametail pushed through the prickly wall of the medicine den, he was relieved to see Littlecloud out of his nest and sorting through a pile of dried herbs. They were smoky with dust, and he coughed as he pawed through them.
“We’ll need fresh supplies before the frost withers everything,” Littlecloud meowed to Flametail without looking up.
“Perhaps you should take a little of the coltsfoot,” Flametail suggested. “It might ease that cough.”
“It’s just the dust.”
Flametail halted beside his mentor. “How are you feeling?” There was less heat flooding from his pelt, but his eyes still looked milky.
“Better,” Littlecloud insisted. “A good night’s sleep is all I needed. What happened at the Moonpool? You’ve been gone a long time.”
Flametail stared at his paws. “I fell asleep in the hollow.”
“It’s a hard journey to the Moonpool, and you were already exhausted.”
“But I should have come straight back after a vision like that!”
Littlecloud leaned forward. “What?”
“StarClan warned me that trouble is coming.”
Littlecloud frowned. “What sort of trouble?”
“They won’t say exactly, but it’s serious.” Flametail shivered. “There was fire in the hollow. It was everywhere. Raggedstar said war was coming.”
“War?” Littlecloud pricked his ears. “What else did he say?”
“That we must forget all of our allegiances and look after our Clan alone.”
“Forget all of our allegiances?” Littlecloud’s tail began to twitch.
“Even our allegiances with the other medicine cats.”
Littlecloud blinked. “That’s never happened before!”
Flametail willed Littlecloud to understand. “Even StarClan is divided now. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves and our own ancestors.”
Littlecloud hurried to the entrance. “We must tell Blackstar.”
Outside, Blackstar had joined Rowanclaw at the head of the clearing. Oakfur was bounding toward the camp entrance with Snowbird and Ratscar at his heels. Crowfrost and Scorchfur were awaiting orders, while Olivenose and Owlclaw paced impatiently around them.
Littlecloud caught Blackstar’s eye.
Blackstar nodded to him. “Crowfrost!”
The black-and-white tom straightened up. “Yes?”
“Finish organizing the extra hunting patrols. I want the fresh-kill pile full by sundown. Rowanclaw, come with me.”
Eager eyes turned to Crowfrost as Blackstar withdrew to his den. Rowanclaw padded after his leader, and Littlecloud followed. Flametail waited as they disappeared into the shadows, then pushed his way in after them.
Blackstar’s gaze burned through the dimness, fixing on Flametail as he entered. “You dreamed at the Moonpool?”
Flametail nodded. “A time of war is coming. StarClan is divided into the four Clans we know here. We must break all allegiances and look after ourselves.”
Blackstar looked puzzled. “But we have no allegiances.”
Flametail glanced at Littlecloud. “Medicine cats share a code that crosses boundaries,” he reminded his leader.
Littlecloud sniffed. “Are you sure that’s what your dream meant?”
Flametail felt the fur on his shoulders begin to prick. “Sagewhisker told me exactly what it meant.”
“We can’t simply turn our backs on the other medicine cats,” Littlecloud argued. “Not after countless moons of sharing trouble and help.”
Flametail curled his claws into the needle-strewn floor but held his tongue. Couldn’t Littlecloud hear him?
“I think,” Littlecloud went on, “that we should interpret this dream carefully. StarClan has warned us that trouble is coming, and we must be ready for it. But why must we destroy friendships that have seen us through the most difficult times? It is too soon to forget the Great Journey, or the role medicine cats have played in helping all four Clans to settle here.”
Blackstar narrowed his eyes. “I trust your judgment, Littlecloud.” He dipped his head to Flametail. “Thank you for traveling to the Moonpool and bringing back this warning. We are not so foolish as to sacrifice ourselves for another Clan, but nor are we so stubborn that we’ll ignore help if we need it.”
A coughing spasm gripped Littlecloud.
“Go and rest,” Blackstar ordered.
Littlecloud swallowed hard against his coughing and padded from the den.
“Thank you again, Flametail.” Blackstar flicked his tail, and Flametail knew he was being dismissed. Frustration crawled beneath his pelt as he headed out into the slanting sunshine.
“You should rest, too.”
Rowanclaw’s mew made him jump. Flametail turned to see his father staring at him. “You must be exhausted.” Rowanclaw narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Flametail snorted and looked away.
“You had something else to say, didn’t you?” Rowanclaw pressed.
“I know what I saw at the Moonpool,” Flametail growled. “I passed on the message I was given.” He saw the tip of his mentor’s tail disappear into the medicine den. “Littlecloud’s too attached to ThunderClan.”
“He’s been a medicine cat for longer than you,” Rowanclaw pointed out. “It’s not surprising he has friends in the other Clans.”
“It’s clouded his reason,” Flametail argued. “A time of war is coming. Didn’t any of you hear that? Raggedstar was clear about how we should deal with it. Why can’t Littlecloud and Blackstar see that no other Clan will help us if it comes to a struggle for survival?”
“Don’t underestimate Blackstar.” Rowanclaw’s eyes darkened. “He’s no fool.”
“But he wasn’t listening to me!” Flametail lashed his tail. “He was listening to Littlecloud, and Littlecloud is too close to his medicine-cat friends.”
“Don’t worry.” Rowanclaw ran his tail along Flametail’s spine. “ShadowClan has always stood alone.”
“The warriors, maybe.” Flametail ducked away from his father’s soothing tail. “But never the medicine cats. Something’s happening inside StarClan.” A surge of determination stiffened his weary muscles. “All the Clans will be affected. This time we cannot risk relying on anyone but ourselves.”
Chapter 11
Dovepaw shifted her paws. It was too cold to stand still. The ground was lightly dusted with snow. The sky had cleared, and stars sparkled over the forest. Chilled to the bone, Dovepaw paced the scent line again, ke
eping her ears pricked. Was Tigerheart coming? She reached through the trees, past the beeches, through the pines, stretching her senses to the ShadowClan camp.
“Move over, Pinepaw! You’re crushing my nest.”
“Have some juniper before you sleep, Littlecloud. Just to ease the wheezing.”
Other sounds crowded at the edge of her hearing. Dovepaw let her senses spread wider.
“Swallowtail!”
The wind whisking the moor nearly swept away the voices from the WindClan camp.
“Where’s Whitetail?”
“She’s sharing Onestar’s den tonight.”
Water lapped at the edge of the RiverClan camp.
“Willowshine?” Mothwing called to her apprentice. “Did you make sure Pouncetail’s bedding was fixed?”
A dog yapped crossly near the horseplace. It reminded Dovepaw of the fox, and she drew her senses closer, sweeping the forest nearby just in case the freezing air had fooled her nose again.
Paw steps brushed the thin covering of snow only tail-lengths away. There was weight in them, though they were creeping lightly. Dovepaw tensed, jerking her head to scan the shadowy trees. The paw steps quickened. Dovepaw crouched lower as claws scuffed the ground.
“Dovepaw?”
Tigerheart!
“You spooked me!”
“I thought you’d hear me coming.” A purr rumbled in his chest. “You have sharper hearing than any cat I know.”
Too sharp. She’d been listening so hard, she’d missed the one thing she’d been waiting for. She needed to remember that hearing everything was sometimes not as useful as hearing something.
“Dovepaw?” Tigerheart’s eyes were gleaming in the moonlight.
She blinked. “Sorry.” She wasn’t going to let her powers distract her from Tigerheart. He wasn’t going to think of her as anything but an ordinary forest cat.
The warrior nudged her shoulder softly with his muzzle. “Stop apologizing.”
Above them, the waning moon curled like a claw in the sable black sky and bathed the forest with soft light. Tigerheart’s pelt shone beneath it, and Dovepaw felt dazzled by the sight of him.
“Come on.” He headed away.
“Where are we going?”
“I know a place where no one will find us.”
Dovepaw hurried after him. He was heading away from the lake, following the ShadowClan border. The land sloped gently upward, and the trees began to thin. She started to get breathless keeping up.
“You’ll love this place,” Tigerheart called back. “No one knows about it except me and Flametail.”
The scents of ThunderClan and ShadowClan were growing fainter. Dovepaw glanced over her shoulder. The lake looked like a flattened disc glimmering far away through the trees. “Are we leaving Clan territory?” Excitement prickled in her belly. Was that mountain air she could smell? And what was that musky scent? Her fur pricked as a familiar smell hit her tongue.
Jayfeather.
She stopped and sniffed a low thorny bush. Jayfeather’s scent lingered on the tips of the stems. Lionblaze’s, too. What had they been doing here? She touched a stem with her tongue. The scents were stale. Moons had passed, from the taste of it.
“Hurry up.” Tigerheart paused above her on the slope. Silhouetted in the moonlight, his forepaws planted squarely, his chin high, he looked like a Clan leader.
Dovepaw pushed the thought away. “Coming!” She scrambled up the slope to a clearing. Ahead, a tumbledown Twoleg nest rose like a gray tree stump, smaller than the abandoned nest in ThunderClan’s territory. Half the walls had fallen down, and there was hardly any roof.
“Wow!” Dovepaw raced past Tigerheart and dashed up the pebbly path that led to the den entrance. She stopped where shadows filled the opening and turned back to Tigerheart. “Is it safe?”
Tigerheart nodded.
Dovepaw crossed the smooth rock that spanned the entrance and padded into the den. Moonlight pooled on the stone floor. She looked up and saw the starry sky. Straight wooden beams crisscrossed it. They must have held the roof up when the nest had been whole.
“How did you know about this place?” she called as Tigerheart followed her in.
“Flametail and I found it when we were apprentices.” He leaped up onto a rock jutting above a hole in the wall. “We used to play here.” With a second leap he was balancing on one of the crisscrossing logs. It was flat on each side, and he padded along as though he’d done it countless times before.
Dovepaw leaped up onto the jutting stone, her heart lurching as her paws slipped. Dust showered down while she shuffled to regain her balance. She eyed the log where Tigerheart had walked, judging the distance carefully, then leaped. It creaked as she landed, but the wood was rough and soft enough to sink her claws into. Chest pounding, she steadied herself and gazed down at the floor below.
“It’s not too far down,” Tigerheart called from the other end of the log. “Don’t be scared.” He flicked his tail, then jumped. In a long, arcing leap he seemed to fly from one log to another, landing solidly and turning to blink at Dovepaw. “Now watch this.” Without pausing, he leaped from one log to the next the entire length of the nest, then turned and bounded back as though he were leaping stepping-stones across a stream.
“Be careful!” Dovepaw gasped. With each jump her heart jumped too.
“That’s nothing!” he mewed, landing beside her. He glanced up to where two logs sloped upward and met at a point. Without warning, he reared on his hind legs and leaped, swinging by his claws from a sloping log before hauling himself up and scrambling to the peak.
“Stop it!” Dovepaw could hardly breathe. She couldn’t imagine another cat being so strong and nimble—or brave.
Tigerheart slithered down a sloping log and began springing back toward her. As he landed on a log next to hers, it creaked. The sound sent Dovepaw’s thoughts spinning back to the hollow when the beech—its great trunk groaning and splintering—had toppled into the camp.
“Watch out!” A shriek ripped from her throat. She leaped across the gap, clasping Tigerheart in her paws and sending them both hurtling to the floor. They landed with a thump on a soft pile of moss. Dust clouded around them.
Her eyes streaming and throat burning, Dovepaw wriggled her paws. “Are you okay?”
Tigerheart didn’t reply.
Oh, StarClan. Let him be okay!
“Tigerheart!”
“I think I’m okay.” A muffled voice sounded from beneath her. “But you’re going to have to get off me so I can find out.”
Mortified, Dovepaw wriggled away. “I’m sorry!” she squeaked. “I didn’t mean to land on you.”
Tigerheart sat up. He lifted one forepaw, then the other. Then he shook his head. “I’ll live,” he announced. His gaze was warm but puzzled.
Dovepaw fought the urge to stare at her paws.
“What happened?” he asked.
She glanced up at the log. It was still in one piece. “I heard a crack,” she mewed apologetically. “I thought it was about to break.”
Tigerheart followed her gaze, squinting a little. “Wow,” he breathed.
“Wow?”
“Can you see that tiny split?”
Dovepaw looked harder and saw in the moonlight a small, fresh crack in the log.
“You’ve got even sharper ears than I thought.” Tigerheart’s whiskers twitched. “You saved my life!” He scrambled to his paws and began to circle her, tail high, a purr in his voice. “Without you, I’d be dead now. You’re my hero. How can I possibly thank you?”
Dovepaw lifted her chin, playing along. “You must bring me mice,” she mewed haughtily. “And a fresh squirrel every day for a moon. And new moss for my nest. And . . .” She flicked his chin with her tail-tip. “You must follow me around all day and pick the burrs out of my pelt.”
The playfulness drained from Tigerheart’s warm amber gaze. Dovepaw tensed, wondering if she’d teased him too much.
“I’d g
ladly do all that for you.” His mew was as steady as his gaze. “You didn’t have to save my life first.”
Dovepaw stared back. “I didn’t really save your life,” she whispered. “It was just a tiny crack. That log could still hold your weight.”
“Maybe,” Tigerheart agreed. “But you were worried about me. That means you care, right?” Dovepaw saw doubt flicker in the young ShadowClan warrior’s gaze. “I mean, you care more than if we were just friends?” he pressed.
Dovepaw swallowed. For the first time she actually felt like she had the power of the stars in her paws.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I care.” Her heart twisted in her chest, half in pain, half in joy. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”
A purr rose deep in her chest as Tigerheart leaned forward and touched his muzzle to hers. Their breath billowed into a single cloud. He twisted his tail around hers, and warmth spread beneath her pelt.
Tigerheart sighed. “We’d better get back, before we’re missed.” He pulled away, but only far enough to let her get to her paws. Together they padded to the nest entrance, fur brushing fur.
They paused on the smooth rock, and Dovepaw stared out at the forest stretching down toward the distant lake. “This is going to work, right?”
“Yes,” Tigerheart promised. “No boundaries are ever going to be strong enough to separate us.”
Dovepaw blinked at him. “Really?” She wanted to believe it. She had to believe it. Nothing had ever felt so important.
“Let’s meet again before half-moon,” Tigerheart suggested.
“Tomorrow.” Dovepaw felt bold.
“Do you think we could leave camp two nights in a row?” Tigerheart’s eyes widened. “You’d take that risk?”
“It’s worth it.” She brushed his cheek with her nose. His scent felt warm on her tongue. He was hers now. He didn’t belong to ShadowClan. They belonged to each other.
“What about your denmates?” Tigerheart pulled away. “They’ll notice you’ve gone.”
“It’s just Ivypaw now.” Dovepaw hooked a clump of moss from Tigerheart’s pelt. “She won’t tell.”
