Dark River wpot-2

by Erin Hunter

  Across the den, alarm pulsed even more fiercely from Leafpool.

  “What’s the matter?” he hissed, hurrying to his mentor’s side. He focused on her thoughts and found her mind chaotic with worry and guilt, just as Firestar’s had been. They both knew something!

  “I spoke to Hollypaw before she left the camp,” Leafpool admitted quietly.

  Jaypaw pricked his ears. “Did she say where she was going?”

  “No, but she was upset.” Leafpool’s voice was hoarse.

  “She’d just asked Firestar to help RiverClan.”

  “And he said no,” Jaypaw guessed, remembering how Firestar had reacted to his dream.

  “She couldn’t possibly believe she could help RiverClan by herself!” meowed Leafpool.

  “Hollypaw wouldn’t be that mouse-brained,” Jaypaw agreed.

  “But maybe she thought that if she couldn’t reason with Firestar, she might be able to convince Onestar not to fight,”

  Leafpool went on reluctantly.

  A dark pit seemed to open in Jaypaw’s stomach. Hollypaw always thought the world was neatly divided into right and wrong. And if she thought Firestar was making a mistake, she might be stubborn enough to try and mend things on her own. He shook the thought away. She wouldn’t be that reck-less. Would she?

  He felt Leafpool’s paw pressing his. “You must try to dream!” she meowed. “You have to find out where she is!”

  Her urgent plea set his fur bristling with indignation. Not so long ago she’d begged him to keep his dreams a secret; now she wanted him to use them to find Hollypaw. Was this all he was to her? A quick way to get answers from StarClan when she wanted them, and a danger to the Clan when she didn’t?

  “Please!”

  “I’m not tired!” Jaypaw objected. “I can’t just dream when I like.”

  “Just close your eyes and try,” Leafpool begged.

  “I’ll dream when I’m ready!” he snapped.

  He padded toward the entrance and felt Leafpool’s pelt brush against his. She was blocking the way!

  “You have to try now!” Leafpool hissed.

  Jaypaw’s pelt bristled. “But she’s probably just gone off by herself for a bit.” What was wrong with Leafpool? She

  sounded more worried than Squirrelflight!

  Cinderpaw’s nest rustled. “Is something wrong?”

  Leafpool turned to reassure her patient. “Don’t worry,” she soothed. “Keep still and rest your leg.”

  So that was what she was worried about. Not Hollypaw.

  Just her precious patient. Jaypaw’s ears burned with rage. He pushed past her and stamped out of the den.

  The camp was calmer now. Firestar had jumped down from Highledge to talk to Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight.

  “The sunset patrol can keep an eye open for any trace of her,” Firestar was meowing. “We’ll see what they report and then send out a search party.”

  “I want to be on the sunset patrol,” Squirrelflight meowed at once.

  “And the search party,” Brambleclaw added.

  “Of course,” Firestar agreed. “You must lead them both.”

  Jaypaw let his ruffled fur relax. A search party was much more sensible than Leafpool’s desperate plea for dreams. She was as edgy as a deer these days. If Hollypaw didn’t turn up, then of course he’d try and use his powers to find her, but he wasn’t going to sleep all afternoon just because Leafpool ordered him to. He wanted to get away from her, away from the camp, away from everyone. He began to squeeze through the thorn tunnel.

  “Where are you going?” Squirrelflight called after him.

  Anxiety was pricking from her pelt. Was she worried about losing another kit? One that every cat believed couldn’t take care of himself?

  “For a walk.”

  “Don’t be long.”

  I’ll be as long as I like! Jaypaw headed into the trees. The damp air promised rain, and the forest smelled musty. He found his paws heading up the slope toward the lake. He sniffed eagerly for the scent of the open water, quickening his pace as he topped the ridge and headed down and out of the trees. This route would take him straight to the shore where he had left the branch. He began to hurry, whiskers twitching, paws following the familiar path down to the shore.

  He scrambled down onto the beach and paused. Unlike the forest, which never seemed to change, the ground around the edge of the lake was always different. The pebbles seemed to shift so that they never felt the same underpaw, and debris came and went, washed up, then washed away again. Jaypaw loved the challenge of the shore. Just so long as he could steer clear of the water. He padded cautiously forward, muzzle outstretched, sniffing for driftwood or rubbish that might trip him. But his mind was fixed on the stick, hopefully still tucked safely behind the tree root. He weaved his way toward it, his heart beating faster as he neared it. He reached out a paw. It was there! Still safe.

  Happily, he dragged it from its hiding place and ran his paws over it, feeling the warmth of the wood and welcoming the jarring ripples as his pads bumped over the scratches. The swishing of the waves and the murmuring of the wind drifted away. He was aware only of the branch beneath his pads and the sharp etches cut into it. A voice breathed in his ears, too

  soft to hear. It was husky like the voice of an old cat and it seemed to be listing names, as though counting them off.

  Jaypaw felt his heart quicken as his paw neared the end of the branch. The uncrossed scratches lay there. His belly tightened.

  He strained to hear the voice. But when his paw touched the first uncrossed mark the voice choked and fell silent.

  Disappointed, Jaypaw lay down beside the stick and rested his cheek on the smooth wood. He closed his eyes, soothed by the lapping of the lake, and began to dream.

  Sandy earth shifted beneath his paws. He blinked open his eyes. A wall of jagged rock loomed ahead of him. Rolling heather rippled behind him in the wind. The sky overhead was black, studded with stars. At the top of the rock wall, he saw cats silhouetted against the night sky. None looked familiar and when he sniffed the air, Jaypaw recognized the scent only from those he had smelled at the Moonpool, when ancient Clans had brushed pelts with him on the paw-worn path to the pool.

  Suddenly, one cat broke away from the others and bounded down the steep slope, a young tom with muscular shoulders beneath his sleek ginger-and-white pelt. A she-cat scrambled after him. The others remained at the top, their tails flicking nervously.

  “Take care,” the she-cat called, landing lightly on the sand.

  The tom brushed muzzles with her. “I will see you at dawn, I promise.” He turned to face the cliff and, for the first time, Jaypaw realized there was a crack in the rock immediately behind him.

  The tom padded toward it. Jaypaw tried to step out of the way but the tom stepped through him as though he wasn’t there. As their spirits crossed, Jaypaw felt a shudder of foreboding. This cat had never entered the rock before. He was frightened. As his tail disappeared into the shadows, Jaypaw’s belly fluttered with excitement. He had to know where the cat was going. Quickly he slipped in after him.

  Darkness swallowed him and for a moment Jaypaw wondered if he had woken up and was blind once more. But then he heard the soft pad of the tom’s paws ahead and Jaypaw sensed space opening into the hillside, a narrow passageway that led straight into the rock.

  Fear spiked the air. Yet determination rippled out from the tom’s pelt too. The pounding of his heart seemed to make the air around them tremble and it grew louder as the tunnel opened into a cave. Pale light glowed overhead, streaming through a small gap in the roof. The arching walls were filled with more openings; the tunnels must spread like roots beneath the moor. Rushing water echoed around the rocks.

  Jaypaw saw with surprise that there was a river cutting through the cave and flowing away into yet another tunnel, the water black as night.

  “Fallen Leaves?”

  Jaypaw jerked his head up. An old cat was calling to the tom from
a high ledge near the moonlit gap. Fallen Leaves?

  The tom jumped.

  “I can feel your surprise,” the old cat croaked.

  Jaypaw stared at the ancient cat. Its pelt was nothing but a

  few tufts of fur, its eyes were white and bulging and stared sightlessly down.

  I hope my eyes don’t look like that!

  Fallen Leaves knew this cat would be here—Jaypaw could sense understanding and recognition between the two cats—

  but the young tom had clearly not expected him to be so ugly.

  The old cat ran a paw over something smooth and pale—

  a bare branch clasped beneath his twisted claws.

  Jaypaw stiffened. My stick! He strained to hear what the ancient cat was saying.

  “ . . . I must stay close to our warrior ancestors; those who have taken their place beneath the earth.”

  “And for that we thank you,” Fallen Leaves murmured.

  “Don’t thank me,” the old cat growled. “It was a destiny I was bound to follow. Besides, you may not feel so grateful to me once your initiation has begun.” He ran a long claw over the lines scratched into the branch.

  Fear pulsed from the young tom and swept Jaypaw like an icy wind. What was he so afraid of? Jaypaw looked back up at the ledge.

  The old cat was shaking his head. “I cannot help you. To become a sharpclaw, you must guide yourself through these tunnels and find your own way out. I can only send you on your way with the blessing of our ancestors.”

  A sharpclaw? Was that like a warrior? Jaypaw suddenly understood the young tom’s fear and his determination. It wasn’t just the darkness he faced, but his future.

  “Is it raining?” the old cat asked suddenly.

  Jaypaw saw Fallen Leaves stiffen.

  “The sky is clear.” But Jaypaw sensed doubt flicker in the young cat’s mind.

  The old cat ran his claw once more over the lines etched in the branch. “Then begin.”

  Fallen Leaves leaped across the river and headed into the tunnel that opened beneath the old cat’s ledge. Jaypaw bounded after him, relieved that he could see. He wouldn’t want to cross the river blind. He shuddered as he imagined falling in and being sucked into the tunnel. Forcing away the thought, he followed Fallen Leaves into blackness once more.

  This way leads up!

  Jaypaw felt the realization cross Fallen Leaves’s mind as clearly as if he’d said it out loud. Jaypaw weaved after him through the darkness. The rocky tunnel was smooth beneath his paws. What had made it so slick? It wound upward, narrowing and then widening, turning first one way, then the other.

  Jaypaw’s breath quickened. He could hardly believe he was walking with an ancient Clan cat, watching him cross the border from kithood to cathood. The surface of the moor couldn’t be far away now, and then Fallen Leaves would be safe. Safe and a sharpclaw, just like he wanted. A puddle of moonlight splashed the floor ahead of them; Fallen Leaves dashed through it, glancing up. Jaypaw followed and saw a narrow gap above them, too high to reach.

  Suddenly, the tunnel narrowed and began to slope downward.

  Downward? But they’d nearly reached the open moor!

  Doubt bristled in Fallen Leaves’s pelt, but Jaypaw sensed him push it away. The tunnel twisted and Fallen Leaves’s pelt brushed the wall as he swerved to follow the snaking passageway. Jaypaw was impressed how this cat coped with the darkness, much better than any ThunderClan cats would; he must have been trained to find his way with scent and touch alone.

  The slope continued downward. Fallen Leaves halted, and Jaypaw sensed uncertainty. The tunnel ahead split. Which way should he take? Fallen Leaves padded slowly into one, then backed up. Jaypaw felt the tom’s tail slide through his formless body. He jerked as it sent a jolt of doubt like lightning through his fur. He scrabbled backward. The young tom was losing his nerve.

  Fallen Leaves darted forward, hurrying on once more. He had chosen the other tunnel, though it sloped downward.

  Jaypaw could smell heather; Fallen Leaves was following the scent of fresh air. Hope flashed in Jaypaw’s chest. This must be the right way. He saw another pool of moonlight flood the tunnel in front of them. Could they get out here?

  Fallen Leaves quickened his pace. Jaypaw felt hope flare in the young tom and then plummet as he reached the moonlight. Jaypaw looked up. The hole was wide but a long way out of reach. And in the shaft of moonlight, drops of rain flickered, spattering down into the tunnel.

  Alarm blazed from Fallen Leaves’s pelt. It swept away his disappointment like a cold wind clearing mist. He was scared of the rain! He shot onward, moving faster now, bumping

  into the sides of the tunnel more often in his desperation to find a way out. Jaypaw skidded as he followed Fallen Leaves around a sharp bend. The tunnel floor was growing slippery with raindrops. He flicked his tail, recovering his balance, frightened he might lose sight of Fallen Leaves.

  The floor was growing wetter and wetter. Rain dripped faster through each hole they passed. A storm must be battering the moor above.

  Suddenly, Fallen Leaves skidded to a halt. The tunnel had stopped at a smooth gray wall. He spun around and raced through Jaypaw.

  Jaypaw’s fur stood on end.

  Fallen Leaves was struggling to keep his terror under con-trol. He raced away, veering down an opening in the side of the tunnel, and Jaypaw’s claws skittered over the floor as he turned and pelted after him. The tunnel dipped sharply.

  Jaypaw gasped as water lapped his paws. He followed Fallen Leaves as the tunnel began to slope upward, but still the water came, rushing down the passage, washing up against Jaypaw’s belly.

  The tunnels were flooding!

  Fallen Leaves swerved through a new opening. It was narrower than the previous tunnels, and the walls pressed in on either side. A hole let in a glimmer of light, but it was too far up to climb out.

  Fallen Leaves skidded to a halt. Jaypaw could smell peaty water and hear it sloshing ahead. He peered through the darkness and saw Fallen Leaves recoiling, his forepaws

  engulfed. The tunnel sloped down sharply in front of him and disappeared into water so deep it lapped the roof. Jaypaw turned around even before Fallen Leaves began to double back. He was leading now, scrambling back the way they’d come. Perhaps they could make it to the cave!

  Fallen Leaves ran faster, clearly remembering the route, pulling past Jaypaw and taking the lead.

  Please StarClan, let him find the cave!

  Blood pounded in Jaypaw’s ears. Unbridled terror pulsed from Fallen Leaves.

  Jaypaw heard a roaring. Wind surged behind him, tugging his fur as it swept over him. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw water skidding toward them, splashing around the walls and roof.

  Hurry! Jaypaw was running for his life.

  Fallen Leaves glanced backward too, his eyes shining with terror. For the first time, he seemed to see Jaypaw.

  “Save me!”

  As Fallen Leaves cried out, the water lifted Jaypaw, swallowing his tail, his belly, and finally engulfing all of him so that he was tossed and swirled by cold clutching waves. Water filled his ears, his eyes, his mouth, and he struggled against it, not knowing which way was up, lost in the darkness, drowning. His sight faded, his ears roared, and he let his body go limp.

  Jaypaw blinked open his eyes, gulping for air, and leaped away from the branch. Rain was pelting down, drenching his fur, and waves pounded the shore, driven across the lake by a

  fierce wind. He wanted to go home, back to the shelter of the camp.

  Fallen Leaves!

  Gingerly he reached out for the branch, feeling for the last uncrossed mark.

  Now he knew what it meant. Fallen Leaves had gone into the tunnels, but he had never come out.

  Chapter 15

  Lionpaw leaped and twisted in the air, diving forward as he landed with his claws raking the ground.

  Perfect! In battle, that would have beaten even the fastest ShadowClan warrior. Did you see how well
I made the turn, Tigerstar?

  Tigerstar had only taught him the move that afternoon.

  Lionpaw had mastered it quickly. He sat back on his haunches now, panting, and sniffed the air. Heatherpaw’s late.

  The cave was dark, the moon hidden by the rain that had been falling since sundown. Jaypaw had returned to camp just after dark, drenched to the skin. The mouse-brain had fallen asleep by the lake! Leafpool had hurried him away to dry off in the medicine den. There was still no sign of Hollypaw. The search party had followed her scent down to the shore where it bordered WindClan territory, and now Thornclaw was even more convinced that she had been captured by a WindClan patrol.

  “Did you think I’d forgotten about you?” Heatherpaw’s mew sounded from the tunnel entrance.

  Lionpaw leaped to his paws happily. “You’re late!”

  “Sorry.” Heatherpaw was out of breath. “I caught Gorse

  tail’s kits following me. I had to take them back to camp.”

  “They didn’t go near the tunnel entrance, did they?”

  “No, but it was close.” Heatherpaw flicked her tail. “They kept themselves well hidden. I didn’t spot them till it was almost too late.”

  Lionpaw’s pads pricked. What if their secret had been discovered? “I nearly didn’t come myself,” he confessed.

  Heatherpaw widened her eyes. “Why not?”

  “Hollypaw’s missing.”

  “Missing?”

  “A search party followed her trail as far as—” Lionpaw stopped. He didn’t want to let Heatherpaw know that Hollypaw might have crossed the WindClan border. Anxiety spiked his belly. He couldn’t be honest with her without feeling like a traitor to his Clan. The realization stung. At least she might give him some clue about where his sister had gone.

  “Have you seen her?”

  Heatherpaw shook her head.

  Lionpaw gazed into her blue eyes. “Are you sure?”

  Heatherpaw blinked. “Of course I’m sure!”

  Guilt tickled in his tail. Heatherpaw wouldn’t lie to him.

  Clearly WindClan hadn’t captured Hollypaw after all. Lionpaw narrowed his eyes. How could he tell his Clanmates without letting them know how he had found out?