by Erin Hunter
Jayfeather hadn’t told them about his vision. He wanted to visit the Moonpool first. He wanted to see if the rest of StarClan agreed with Yellowfang. He slipped through the barrier of thorns, leaving the voices of his Clanmates behind.
As he broke from the trees, the moorland wind pierced his fur. Flattening his ears against it, he bounded along the slope to the dip where the medicine cats met before traveling together to the Moonpool. His paws sank deep into snow. It reached his belly where it had drifted, and he was breathless by the time he scented Kestrelflight and Willowshine.
“Not good traveling weather,” he called to them.
“At least it’s stopped snowing,” Kestrelflight responded.
Willowshine shook out her fish-scented fur. “Can we go now? It’s freezing.”
“Where are Littlecloud and Flametail?” Jayfeather tasted the air but there was no scent of the ShadowClan medicine cats.
“They’ll have to catch up.” Willowshine was already heading away. “It’s too cold to sit still.”
Snow crunched as Kestrelflight fell into step beside the RiverClan medicine cat. “Hopefully our tracks will make their path easier.”
Their tracks certainly helped Jayfeather. He followed the furrow the others carved in the snow, but even so, keeping his balance on the rocky shores of the stream took all his concentration. He had no chance to focus on the thoughts of his companions. By the time he’d scrambled up the cliff and hauled himself into the hollow, he was panting.
Willowshine was standing on the lip of the hollow. “No sign of Littlecloud or Flametail,” she declared. “I hope there’s no trouble in ShadowClan.”
“We’ll find out soon enough if there is,” Kestrelflight answered.
“Should we wait?” Willowshine wondered.
Jayfeather was already following the path that spiraled down to the Moonpool. “If you can’t see them on the trail by now, they’re not coming.” Snow covered the dimples in the rock where countless paw steps had passed before him.
“Is the Moonpool frozen?” Kestrelflight hurried after him.
Jayfeather touched it with a paw, relieved to feel it ripple softly against his fur. “No.” The hollow must have sheltered the water from the coldest winds. He sank down in the snow and waited for Kestrelflight and Willowshine to settle beside the pool.
“I hope Littlecloud and Flametail are all right,” Willowshine fretted. Her fur brushed against the snow as she rested her chin on her paws and touched her nose to the water. Kestrelflight’s breathing had already slowed. They would both be in trances before long.
Jayfeather waited. There was no need for him to walk in his own dreams tonight. Yellowfang had already spoken to him. Focusing on Kestrelflight, he let his mind flow into the young WindClan cat’s dreams.
Wind tugged his fur, warm and playful. Jayfeather looked around, blinking at the sweep of sky and land before him. He was standing on the arching spine of a rocky hilltop. Forested slopes fell away in front of his paws. Far away the trees darkened toward a shadowy horizon. Is that the Dark Forest?
Voices sounded below the crest of the slope, and Jayfeather quickly scooted behind a boulder. As the voices grew nearer, Jayfeather peered around the side. Kestrelflight was walking beside Barkface. The raddled old WindClan medicine cat hung his head and dragged his tail as though the sky weighed heavily on his back. Another WindClan cat walked beside them. Jayfeather squinted. He didn’t recognize the light brown she-cat with ginger patches and eyes bluer than the lake in greenleaf.
“Explain it to him, Daisytail,” Barkface meowed gruffly. “I knew he wouldn’t believe me alone.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Kestrelflight objected. “It’s just hard to take in.”
The she-cat spoke, her voice as spirited as the wind lifting Jayfeather’s pelt. “I stood up for my Clanmates once so that I could protect their future. I led the queens against a leader who believed kits should be trained before they were six moons.” Her eyes clouded, and Jayfeather felt pride and grief battling in her heart. “There comes a time when we must stand and fight.”
“But I’m a medicine cat,” Kestrelflight reminded her. “I follow a different code than a warrior.”
“Everything is changing,” Barkface growled. “WindClan’s greatest battle is coming. We cannot let the treachery of other Clans sap our strengths.”
“We must stand alone,” Daisytail insisted.
Why? Jayfeather frowned. Four patrols could not drive the fox from our territory. Today Lionblaze sent it fleeing for its life. Was Yellowfang’s prophecy true?
“You must trust in your ancestors, not in other Clans,” Barkface warned. “The past will be your strength, not the present.”
Kestrelflight looked ruffled. “But who will this battle be against? Why must we fight alone? Tallstar never saw any weakness in allying the Clan with others to make it stronger.”
Daisytail narrowed her eyes. “Tallstar was blinded by friendships,” she mewed pointedly. Jayfeather wondered if she was referring to the long friendship between Firestar and the WindClan leader.
Kestrelflight searched Barkface’s gaze. “Is that who we’ll be fighting? Another Clan?”
“You don’t know your enemy yet,” he rasped. “But you’ll know them when the time comes.”
Jayfeather felt the fur on his neck prickle. Why not tell him? Shouldn’t he know that his Clan was going to face an army of the most dark-hearted warriors ever to have walked forest, moor, or stream?
Daisytail padded into Kestrelflight’s path, blocking his way. “Don’t tell any of the other medicine cats about this,” she warned.
Kestrelflight blinked. “Won’t they already know?”
“Betrayal could come from anywhere,” Barkface growled. “You must stand alone, knowing your ancestors walk with you, and you alone.”
Daisytail jerked her head around and tasted the air. Jayfeather ducked back behind the rock. Had she smelled him? Taking no risks, he backed away down a short, steep slope, flinching as pebbles clattered down beside him. He slid into a narrow gully and followed it quickly away from the hilltop. The rocky channel wound down, cutting ever deeper into the hillside. Jayfeather quickened his step until the slopes of the gully began to smooth into grassy banks. Soon he was following a stony path that opened onto a pebbly shore beside a stream.
Willows drooped over its banks. Ferns clustered at the water’s edge. Instinctively, Jayfeather headed for cover. This was not his dream. Keeping to the ferns, he headed downstream until he caught sight of a rock. Wide and flat, it broke from the water and split the current around it. He recognized Willowshine’s gray tabby pelt silhouetted on the rock, and beside her, Mudfur, the ancient RiverClan medicine cat. Graypool sat with them, paws rooted to the stone even when water splashed and lapped at them.
“You must stand alone,” Mudfur ordered.
Jayfeather pricked his ears harder. The rushing of the stream drowned their words.
“. . . ancestors will walk with you . . .” Graypool was staring intently at Willowshine.
Willowshine bristled. “. . . cats have always helped each . . .”
Graypool shook her head. “. . . have changed. We must change too. . . .”
“Can I tell Mothwing?”
Graypool flashed a glance at Mudfur. “She won’t believe you, but you can tell her.”
Mudfur dipped his head. “She’s a good medicine cat. She will protect her Clanmates through this terrible battle.”
“Please,” Willowshine begged. “What is this battle? Who will we be fighting?”
Jayfeather saw the older cats shake their heads. The stream washed around them.
“. . . more terrible than your worst nightmares . . .”
“. . . darker than you can dream of . . .”
“. . . a river of blood . . .”
Willowshine leaned away from them, her whiskers quivering with fear.
Angry now, Jayfeather slid through the ferns, away from the
water’s edge. It seemed like every cat in StarClan was in a state of panic! Did they really think that dividing the Clans and crippling them with fear would help? He must share what he knew with the other medicine cats. They faced a real enemy.
“Do you believe me now?”
Jayfeather jerked to a halt as Yellowfang blocked his path.
“All four Clans must stand alone,” she hissed. “The Dark Forest moves among them. You can’t trust anyone. Why do you think the ShadowClan cats stayed away from the Moonpool tonight? They have abandoned you already. And WindClan and RiverClan will abandon you now.”
“Not if I tell them what’s really going on.”
Yellowfang sprang at him, bowling him over. “No!” She pressed him hard to the ground. “Can’t you read the signs? Lionblaze beat the fox single-pawed!” she hissed. “If you don’t keep quiet, all four Clans will be lost to the darkness.”
Struggling, Jayfeather blinked open his eyes and found himself beside the Moonpool, his vision black once more. Fur brushed snow. Kestrelflight was heading away up the path. Willowshine was already at the top, walking quickly as if she didn’t want to speak to her companions. Was the bond between medicine cats so easily broken?
Jayfeather scrambled to his paws. He had to warn them. “The Dark Forest—”
Crackling silenced him. Ice splintered behind him, echoing around the walls of the hollow. Jayfeather turned, and his vision was flooded with starlight. The Moonpool was freezing over, ice spreading like fire through grass, reaching over the water until the whole pool was white.
Jayfeather stared around the hollow. Hope flared in his chest. Cats of StarClan lined the glittering walls. The ranks of star-pelted warriors sat silent and still. Jayfeather looked more closely. Was that Rock among them? Jayfeather recognized the ancient, hairless cat with a surge of joy. Had he come to help StarClan? Perhaps he’d changed their minds? Perhaps the cats of StarClan were going to face the Dark Forest together after all?
As he watched, pleading silently for some kind of sign, he saw the hollow start to whiten. One after another, the StarClan warriors turned to ice, their fur glistening, their whiskers stiffening, before shattering into cruel, prickling shards in the cold, dead moonlight.
Only Rock remained. He stared blankly at Jayfeather, his bulging blind eyes as frosted as the Moonpool.
Chapter 15
Ivypaw opened her eyes. Mouse dung! It was night, and she was still in the apprentices’ den. She wanted to be in the Dark Forest. She wanted to perfect the complicated move that Hawkfrost had shown her last night. She pricked her ears.
Silence. Dovepaw wasn’t in her nest.
Ivypaw sighed and rolled over. Did Dovepaw think no one was going to notice her disappearing night after night, returning just before the dawn patrol and pretending to wake in her nest as though she’d never been gone?
I know what you’re up to. Ivypaw tucked her nose under her tail. You’re sneaking off to practice by yourself in the woods. You’ve realized that I’m better than you, and you don’t like it.
It was Dovepaw’s turn to play catch-up, for a change.
Ivypaw closed her eyes and pictured Mapleshade’s move. If I put a hind paw there and a forepaw there . . . Her thoughts drifted into a dream.
“Get back, Thornclaw! You might get hurt.” She growled at her Clanmate and turned to face the ShadowClan patrol alone. With a single paw, she sent Oakfur flying over her shoulder, then lunged at Smokefoot, kicking out with her hind legs to scratch Crowfrost’s snapping muzzle.
Pain tore through her dream as two spiked paws gripped her shoulders. The ShadowClan warriors vanished from her thoughts. This enemy wasn’t imagined. The sting of claws in her flesh was real. Ivypaw swallowed a wail of pain as they hooked her pelt and flung her to the ground.
“That’ll teach you to pay attention!”
Thistleclaw’s rancid breath hit her nose. The Dark Forest swam into focus. With her muzzle pressed into the dank earth, she could just make out the shadowy trunks through the hanging mist.
“Get off me!” she screeched.
“I don’t know if begging works on the battlefield.” Thistleclaw dug his claws deeper into her neck.
Panicking, Ivypaw flapped her hind legs. Her paws hit something solid. It must be a root. She pushed against it, thrusting herself forward. Thistleclaw flinched, gasping. In a moment she was on her paws and rearing up at the tabby warrior, claws unsheathed, a snarl curling her lip.
“Very good.” Hawkfrost’s approving growl echoed nearby.
Ivypaw glanced sideways as he stalked from the trees. Suddenly she didn’t care about the stinging of her neck or the welling of blood on her fur. Hawkfrost had praised her.
Thistleclaw hissed at her, his back arched and his teeth bared. “You’ll be watching for me next time,” he snarled.
Ivypaw met his stare. “You might want to start watching for me,” she spat. “I won’t be an apprentice forever.” Her gaze darted back to Hawkfrost. “He’s always picking on the apprentices,” she hissed. “Why don’t you give him one of his own so he might leave the rest of us alone?”
Hawkfrost’s eyes glinted. “Do you want me to give him you?”
Ivypaw lashed her tail. At that moment, she felt ready to take on anything. “If you want. But then you’d have to find a new apprentice and start from scratch.”
Amusement lit the tabby warrior’s eyes. “I guess I would,” he conceded.
“I used to have my own apprentice,” Thistleclaw muttered. “She didn’t pass the final assessment.”
In spite of her burst of confidence, Ivypaw shivered. Something in his tone suggested that failing to pass the assessment meant something more final than trying again after more training.
“Come on, ’paw.” Hawkfrost dismissed Thistleclaw with a curt nod and turned his attention to Ivypaw. “We’re practicing water fighting tonight.”
“Why?” Ivypaw asked as she followed him between the trees. “I’m not a RiverClan cat.”
“But you may fight one someday.” Hawkfrost flicked his tail. “Hurry up. They’re waiting on the shore.”
Ivypaw caught sight of pelts through the trees. Antpelt sat with his tail curled over his paws. Beside him was Shredtail. Hollowpaw, a RiverClan apprentice she recognized from Gatherings, paced beside Snowtuft. Ivypaw looked for the river but saw nothing beyond the warriors except shadow. She pricked her ears but only heard the wind whining softly through bare branches. “Where’s the river?”
Hawkfrost halted as he reached the other cats. “There.”
Ivypaw stared at the flood of dark liquid sliding silently past them. “That’s a river?”
A strange sickly stench rose from it. Hollowpaw wrinkled his nose. “It’s the best they’ve got.”
“This should be funny.” Antpelt scowled at Ivypaw. “I’ve never seen a ThunderClan cat get wet.”
“And I suppose WindClan is always splashing around in the lake,” she shot back. She glanced through the trees. “Is Tigerheart here?” She kept her tone casual. She didn’t want anyone to guess how much she wanted to see the ShadowClan warrior. The thought of getting her pelt wet, especially in that sludgy river, woke butterflies in her belly. She felt safer around Tigerheart. Like the time when they’d trained on the tree trunk and Thistleclaw had knocked Sparrowfeather to the ground.
She frowned, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t seen Sparrowfeather since.
Hawkfrost strode to the riverbank. “Are you ready?”
Ivypaw stiffened.
“Before we try it in the water, I’ll show you what we’re going to practice.” Hawkfrost beckoned Antpelt to step forward.
The WindClan warrior lifted his chin and stood stiffly in front of the dark-furred tom. With a quick, low lunge, Hawkfrost knocked Antpelt’s hind legs out from under him. Antpelt stumbled and scrabbled back onto all four paws.
A shadow slid from the trees. “Easy to recover on dry land.” It was Darkstripe. “But in running water, it’s not
so easy to regain your balance.”
Ivypaw’s fur pricked. She didn’t like Darkstripe. There was something sly about the skinny black-and-silver warrior that made her nervous. He’d once bitten Tigerheart after they had finished a training match, and then denied it.
Hawkfrost greeted Darkstripe with a brisk nod and went on. “When you’re in the water, it’s best to keep your claws tucked in. It may feel more natural to try and grip the riverbed, but loose stones rolled by the current may catch a claw and rip it out.”
Ivypaw shuddered.
Hawkfrost flicked his tail. “Antpelt, try the move out on Shredtail in the water.”
Antpelt padded tentatively into the thick, slow-flowing river. He waded up to his belly, then farther, until the water reached his shoulders. It slapped against him, making a sound unlike any water Ivypaw had heard before.
“Snowtuft, you work with Hollowpaw,” Hawkfrost ordered.
Snowtuft nodded, eyes glinting in the half-light.
Hollowpaw waded in. “This isn’t water!” he grumbled. “It’s too slimy.”
Snowtuft shoved the RiverClan apprentice with his muzzle. Hollowpaw stumbled, losing his footing. His shoulders dipped blow the surface as he struggled to find his paws, but he kept his nose high and clear of the dark water.
Ivypaw scanned the forest, wishing Tigerheart would come. She hadn’t seen the young ShadowClan warrior for several nights. Had he been training in a different part of the forest?
Darkstripe blocked her view. “I’ll partner with Ivypaw if you like, Hawkfrost.” He shrugged. “Since you’re supervising.”
Ivypaw straightened and lifted her chin. “Okay.” She waded into the shallows, hoping the cold water would soothe the stinging scratches on her neck. She was dismayed to find it flowing warm and thick around her legs, tugging at her fur like invisible weeds. She grimaced as she headed deeper, trying to glimpse the riverbed through the murky water.
Darkstripe slid through the water beside her. “Come on, slow slug.”
Ivypaw pushed on, shuddering as the slimy water seeped through her pelt and touched her flesh. It rose up past her belly and swallowed her shoulders. She was straining every muscle now, fighting the current to stay standing. She wished she were taller. Darkstripe’s spine was hardly covered, while she struggled to keep her head above water.
