Dark River wpot-2

by Erin Hunter

  “Of course you will!” A pelt brushed his, nudging him so roughly that it sent him sprawling across the wet moss.

  Lionpaw scrambled crossly to his paws. “What are you—?”

  He broke off.

  Brambleclaw, Ashfur, and Berrypaw were still on the farside of the clearing.

  Who pushed me?

  “Keep your eyes fixed on something in front of you,” a voice growled. “It’s the only way to keep your balance.”

  Lionpaw stared in alarm. Two eyes burned against the background of the forest. A hazy outline moved like mist against the ferns.

  “Tigerstar!” Lionpaw glanced nervously toward his Clanmates. Could they see him?

  “Only you can see me.” Tigerstar seemed to read his mind.

  “I’m not here as far as they’re concerned.”

  “Why are you here?” Lionpaw shivered.

  “To help you.” Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. “It looks like you need it.”

  Lionpaw felt hot with shame.

  “I’ll be the badger.” Tigerstar crouched in front of him.

  Lionpaw frowned. How would he be able to tackle this ghostly warrior? He could hardly see him.

  “Try it!” Tigerstar commanded. “And don’t forget to keep your eyes on something solid.”

  Lionpaw took a deep breath and stared at a birch at the edge of the clearing. Concentrating hard, he reared onto his hind legs. He was balancing! He tensed the muscles in his

  hind legs and sprang up and over Tigerstar, landing behind him. He turned and began to feel himself falling to one side.

  Tigerstar shifted fast as a snake and pushed him back up so that he could complete the turn. Lionpaw regained his balance, ducked, and twisted to nip Tigerstar’s hind leg.

  “Not bad.” Tigerstar dodged away. “But you won’t always have me to prop you up.”

  At least I was better than before! Lionpaw padded back to his starting place while Tigerstar crouched in front of him again.

  This time he tensed every muscle in his body before pushing up with his back legs and leaping forward. He landed perfectly and ducked, baring his teeth to nip Tigerstar’s hind leg.

  But Tigerstar was already up and pacing. “That’s more like it,” he growled. “But you should slash out with your forepaw as you spin. That way, you could scratch the badger as well as bite it.”

  Lionpaw’s heart was pounding with excitement. He hadn’t felt this awake in days. “Let’s try it!”

  He managed it perfectly the first time.

  Tigerstar dodged to avoid being raked by Lionpaw’s fast forepaw slash.

  “Much better!”

  “How are you getting on?” Ashfur’s call made Lionpaw jump. He spun around guiltily, and saw his mentor padding toward him. He glanced nervously over his shoulder.

  Tigerstar was gone.

  Ashfur narrowed his eyes. “You have been practicing, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” Lionpaw mewed quickly.

  “Show me.”

  Lionpaw performed the move even better than he had with Tigerstar. He finished in a perfect crouch and glanced up at Ashfur. His mentor’s eyes were glowing. “You might make a warrior, after all.” He beckoned to Brambleclaw with his tail. “Come and watch this.”

  Brambleclaw bounded to join them, Berrypaw on his heels.

  “You be the badger, Berrypaw,” Ashfur ordered.

  Berrypaw crouched, and Lionpaw reared up and leaped over him. He spun and flicked out a claw that parted Berrypaw’s fur, then finished by grazing Berrypaw’s hind leg with his teeth.

  “A badger wouldn’t stand a chance!” Ashfur meowed proudly.

  “He could have jumped higher,” Berrypaw mewed.

  “It would have slowed him down,” Ashfur argued.

  “Brambleclaw?” Lionpaw was itching to know what his father thought. “Was it okay?” A troubled look seemed to be clouding the ThunderClan deputy’s gaze.

  Brambleclaw blinked. “It was great,” he meowed. He turned to Ashfur. “Did you teach him the move with the claw?”

  “No, he came up with that by himself.”

  “Did you?” Brambleclaw’s gaze seemed to burn into Lionpaw’s.

  Lionpaw nodded guiltily. Had his father recognized Tigerstar’s move? “Did you like it?”

  “It’s a nice touch.” Brambleclaw stroked his tail along Lionpaw’s flank. “Let’s get back to camp.”

  The ThunderClan deputy padded out of the mossy clearing, his striped tail disappearing into the ferns. Berrypaw made a face at Lionpaw before following his mentor into the undergrowth.

  “Are you coming?” Ashfur meowed.

  “In a moment.” Lionpaw wanted to see if Tigerstar would come back. He wanted to know why the dark warrior was taking so much interest in him. Jaypaw was the one who spoke with their ancestors. As Ashfur slipped into the ferns, Lionpaw scanned the clearing. There was no sign of Tigerstar, not even a scent. The tabby warrior had vanished.

  Lionpaw shook away the doubt pricking in his pelt. He should be grateful. Tigerstar seemed to care more about his training than his mentor did.

  “Thanks, Tigerstar,” he whispered into the trees, and followed his Clanmates home toward camp.

  Chapter 12

  “Watch out!”

  Graystripe’s warning was muffled by the bramble stem clasped in his jaws. Hollypaw hopped backward as the trail of brambles swished past her. Millie scurried by, trying to guide Graystripe’s prickly load safely across the clearing.

  “I thought the den was finished,” Hollypaw mewed to Hazelpaw, flicking her tail at the addition to the warriors’

  den. Its walls were thick and its roof pressed firmly into place.

  Why do they need even more brambles?

  “It’s not for the warriors’ den.” Hazelpaw shook her gray-and-white head. “They’re reinforcing the nursery.”

  Hollypaw’s heart sank. Why was everyone so sure there was going to be a battle?

  Ferncloud began shooing Foxkit and Icekit away from the nursery while Graystripe and Millie wrapped the brambles around the already densely tangled bush.

  Hazelpaw nodded toward the fresh-kill pile where Mousepaw was choosing his midday snack. “Are you coming?”

  Hollypaw shook her head. She wasn’t hungry. Anxiety had been churning in her belly since the Gathering. Besides, she

  was hunting with Brackenfur later; she could eat then. She watched Hazelpaw pick a mouse from the pile and settle down beside Mousepaw, their fluffy gray pelts merging into one.

  Suddenly, the honeysuckle quivered and Brightheart rushed from the elders’ den. The one-eyed cat was snapping instructions over her shoulder. “Quick, this way!”

  Longtail shot out behind her, Mousefur limping after him.

  “I don’t see why we have to practice,” Mousefur coughed.

  “I know the drill.”

  Brightheart halted at the bottom of the tumble of rocks.

  “You need to know it by heart in case there’s an attack at night.”

  Longtail paused beside Brightheart. “Dark or light, it makes no difference to me.” His sightless eyes sparkled teasingly.

  Mousefur padded stiffly past him. “I’ve been in this camp long enough to know the way.” Hollypaw could hear her begin to wheeze as she clambered up the rocks toward the safety of Highledge. Longtail followed closely, nudging her forward whenever her paws slipped. Greencough had left Mousefur weaker than any cat would admit—Mousefur especially. It wasn’t fair to make her drill like this, especially for a battle that might never happen.

  Thornclaw and Whitewing padded past Hollypaw.

  Thornclaw glanced at her. “Shouldn’t you be helping reinforce the defenses?”

  “I’m training with Brackenfur soon,” Hollypaw explained.

  “Good.” Thornclaw halted beneath Highledge where

  Stormfur and Brook were sharing tongues. “We need our apprentices sharp.”

  Brook looked up. “Are you so sure the battle will h
appen?”

  There was anxiety in her husky mountain mew.

  “We can’t be too careful,” Thornclaw growled.

  Stormfur sat up. “It doesn’t make sense,” he meowed.

  “Why would WindClan attack us?”

  “Yes!” Brook’s eyes brightened. “RiverClan’s the one they’re going to have trouble with.”

  “What happens to RiverClan will affect us all,” Whitewing meowed.

  Thornclaw flicked his tail. “If RiverClan is driven from their territory, where will they go?”

  “They’ll need to settle somewhere,” Whitewing pointed out.

  Stormfur sighed. “None of the borders will be safe.”

  Hollypaw’s pelt pricked with anxiety. How could the four Clans survive if RiverClan lost their territory?

  “Hollypaw?” Brackenfur was heading toward her.

  “Are we going hunting?”

  “Change of plan.” Brackenfur nodded toward Mousepaw and Hazelpaw. “We’ll be battle training with your denmates instead.”

  Battle training!

  He started to hurry away. “I’ll meet you at the training hollow.”

  Hollypaw padded halfheartedly to the camp entrance. She didn’t want to train for a battle that might lead to the end of four Clans living around the lake. Stormfur’s words rang in

  her ears: None of the borders will be safe.

  She had to stop this!

  She turned and almost crashed into Mousepaw. His green eyes were shining. “Did Brackenfur tell you?”

  Hazelpaw clawed the ground behind him. “We’re battle training!”

  Hollypaw stared at them. “Go ahead without me,” she whispered.

  “What are you doing?” Mousepaw asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she mewed. “I’ll catch up with you when I’ve finished.”

  “But what will we tell Brackenfur?”

  Hollypaw didn’t answer Hazelpaw’s anxious question. She had already pushed past her denmates and was halfway across the clearing. Brackenfur had stopped to talk with Stormfur.

  Hollypaw quickly ducked behind the elders’ den.

  “Imagine thinking I couldn’t find my way up to Highledge.” She heard Mousefur’s croaking mew from inside.

  “They’ll have us practicing washing next.”

  “Well, at least we’re ready now,” Longtail mewed soothingly.

  “I was born ready!” Mousefur grumbled.

  Hollypaw’s pelt bristled with anticipation as Brackenfur finally nodded to Stormfur. “See you later.” The golden warrior headed away toward the camp entrance.

  Hollypaw slipped out from behind the honeysuckle and scurried up the rocks to Highledge. “Firestar!” She rushed into the cave, blinking against the sudden darkness.

  Firestar’s eyes flashed in the shadows. Sandstorm was

  plucking the feathers from a sparrow carcass on the other side of the cave.

  “What is it, Hollypaw?” Firestar sat up straight.

  “You can’t just let it happen!” Hollypaw mewed.

  Sandstorm padded to Firestar’s side. “Let what happen?”

  “The battle that everyone’s preparing for!”

  “The battle might not happen.” Firestar meowed calmly.

  “There’s nothing wrong with being prepared.”

  “But why are we getting ready to fight WindClan when we should be helping RiverClan?” Hollypaw stepped forward, her paws trembling. “When I spoke to Willowpaw at the Gathering, she was so upset! All the RiverClan cats were.

  They need our help. But all we’re doing is getting ready to attack WindClan!”

  Firestar curled his tail over his paws. “I have no intention of attacking WindClan,” he meowed. “But we must be ready if they attack us.”

  Hollypaw couldn’t understand how Firestar could be so stupid. “WindClan won’t attack. It’s RiverClan who is in trouble!”

  “If RiverClan is forced into WindClan territory, then WindClan may try to take some of ours,” Firestar explained.

  “RiverClan would never want to live on the moorland!”

  Hollypaw’s whiskers quivered. “They’d want to stay by the lake where they can fish.”

  Sandstorm leaned forward. “Clans can adapt to anything if they have to.”

  Firestar nodded. “Look how WindClan is getting used

  to hunting in woodland.”

  Hollypaw angrily flicked her tail. “Why don’t we try to solve the problem before it turns into a fight?”

  Firestar lifted a paw, warning her to calm down.

  “RiverClan must be allowed to solve their own problems.”

  “But what if they can’t?”

  Paw steps sounded outside. Hollypaw glanced around to see Leafpool padding into the cave.

  “I thought I heard you in here.” The medicine cat blinked at Hollypaw.

  Firestar dipped his head to Leafpool. “Hollypaw’s worried about the battle.”

  Fresh frustration flared in Hollypaw’s pelt. “There doesn’t have to be a battle!”

  “Of course there doesn’t,” Leafpool assured her. “When I spoke to Mothwing at the Gathering, she said that RiverClan was dealing with their problem. But if they can’t solve it, we have to be ready.”

  “But if we helped them,” Hollypaw mewed, “then they’d be okay.”

  Leafpool shook her head. “We must trust RiverClan to sort it out themselves.”

  “Leafpool’s right,” Firestar meowed. “Besides, helping RiverClan would mean crossing WindClan territory.”

  “Or ShadowClan’s,” Sandstorm added.

  Leafpool ran her tail down Hollypaw’s flank. “And that would only make things worse, wouldn’t it?”

  Hollypaw shied away from Leafpool, bristling. She didn’t

  need to be soothed, like a kit having a bad dream! Why couldn’t they take her seriously?

  “Isn’t Brackenfur waiting for you?” Sandstorm prompted.

  “You mustn’t fall behind with your training,” Firestar reminded her.

  Hollypaw turned and stamped out of the cave. Pebbles clacked under her paws as she bounded down the rocks to the clearing.

  “Wait!”

  Hollypaw glanced backward.

  Leafpool was hurrying after her. “I can see you’re upset.”

  Hollypaw turned on her. “Why won’t any of you listen?”

  “You must remember,” Leafpool soothed, “we all have more experience than you. You have to trust us to know what’s right.”

  “StarClan would want us to help RiverClan,” Hollypaw mewed.

  “You can’t be sure of that.” Leafpool blinked. “I know you’re worried about Willowpaw, but you’re training to be a warrior now. It’s not appropriate to have such close friends in other Clans.”

  Hollypaw glared at her. This isn’t about Willowpaw. This is about the future of all four Clans! She searched Leafpool’s gaze and found only a gentle concern. I’m wasting my breath!

  “Go and find Brackenfur,” Leafpool suggested. “He’s heading for the training hollow.”

  “I know where he is,” Hollypaw hissed through gritted teeth.

  “I’m sure he must be expecting you.” Leafpool touched Hollypaw’s cheek with her nose, then padded away.

  Hollypaw flexed her claws. If she could find out exactly what was happening in RiverClan, perhaps then she could convince Firestar to help, and the Clans wouldn’t need to fight.

  She had to talk to Willowpaw.

  She darted through the entrance tunnel, thorns scraping her pelt. Outside the camp, she glanced around. No one was there. She hurried into the trees, away from the training hollow, and headed up the ridge toward the WindClan border.

  “Squirrel!”

  Birchfall’s excited yowl pierced the air. Hollypaw dived into a patch of ferns, pressing her belly to the ground. Paw steps were pounding toward her. She peeped through the green fronds and saw Birchfall and Ashfur skidding down the slope. Lionpaw was racing behind them, his t
ail fluffed out.

  She ducked back into the foliage and held her breath. The ferns rustled around her as the patrol whisked past less than a tail-length away.

  Hollypaw screwed her eyes shut. Don’t let them see me!

  Heart pounding, she heard their paw steps fade into the forest. Relief washed her pelt and she crept from her hiding place and started up the slope. Ears pricked and nose twitching, she ran over the top of the ridge and headed down, out of the trees, and across the bumpy grass to the WindClan border. Her paws trembled as the tang of WindClan hit her nose. This border had been recently marked.

  Hollypaw scanned the heather-swathed slope that rose

  up to the high moorland.

  No sign of any patrols.

  Tail trembling, she padded across the scent line. Rain was beginning to fall from the dove-gray sky. It’ll help cover my scent, she thought, relieved as the drops began to soak her fur. She padded through the heather, heading downhill toward the lake, and scrambled down from the peaty earth onto the pebbly shore. Keeping low, she scooted to the water’s edge. Just to be on the safe side, she waded through the shallows. The water would disguise her scent even more. She shivered with cold as the waves lapped her belly fur, but at least WindClan wouldn’t suspect a ThunderClan cat had trespassed on their territory.

  The rain fell harder, hissing against the surface of the lake. Droplets streamed from her whiskers. Hollypaw glanced toward the moorland rising from the shore, praying that, if a patrol appeared from the heather, her black pelt would appear only as sodden driftwood against the gray water. She saw reeds begin to dot the shore up ahead; she was nearing RiverClan territory. She quickened her pace. She could hide more easily among the rushes. Pebbles turned to mud beneath her paws and she smelled the strong scent of RiverClan. Padding out of the shallows she crept into the reed bed, thankful to be out of the water and hidden by the towering rushes.

  Suddenly, a yowl sounded ahead.

  Hollypaw froze and sniffed the air. Fresh warrior scent. A hunting party?