The Sight

by Erin Hunter

  Lionpaw stared up at the trunk that bridged the water between the shore and the island. The air was filled with the scents of WindClan, ShadowClan, and RiverClan. “We must be the last to arrive!” he whispered to Hollypaw. Suddenly he felt shy about facing all three Clans at once. “Do you suppose Ferncloud’s nursery stories about ShadowClan are true?”

  “You don’t actually believe they let their elders starve, do you?” Hollypaw mewed scornfully.

  “Well, no,” Lionpaw murmured. “But what if all the other apprentices are bigger than us?”

  “We’ve been apprentices for only a quarter moon,” Hollypaw pointed out. “There’re bound to be some apprentices bigger than us.”

  Firestar leaped up onto the fallen trunk, picked his way carefully across to the far shore, and jumped down. The pebbles swished beneath his paws as he turned to watch his Clanmates cross. Brambleclaw followed him, then Dustpelt, and before he knew it, Lionpaw was watching Hollypaw leap up ahead of him onto the tree. The smooth, black water flowed beneath her, lapping gently at the dead branches that held the tree fast in the lakebed. She weaved her way through the stubby twigs and knots until she reached the other end. Then she jumped down and turned to watch Lionpaw cross.

  Trembling with excitement, he scrambled up onto the branch. The bark was surprisingly slippery and his paws slithered in all directions. He felt the tree jerk and looked back to see that Ashfur had leaped up behind him. Ahead of him was a jutting shard of bark where a smaller branch had once sprouted. He curved his body around it, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the far end of the tree.

  Suddenly his forepaw slipped and his paw shot off the trunk. He felt himself begin to fall and stared in horror at the water shining cold and dark beneath him.

  A gray pelt flashed behind him, and Lionpaw felt the nudge of a muzzle against his flank. It pushed him up, supporting him until he regained his balance. His mentor had saved him from a humiliating start to his first Gathering.

  “Thanks!” Lionpaw gasped.

  “It’s always tricky the first time,” Ashfur meowed.

  Lionpaw unsheathed his claws and gripped the trunk like a squirrel the rest of the way. He jumped down onto the beach, happy to be on solid ground once more. The pebbles felt good on his tingling pads.

  “Thought you were fish food for a moment there,” Hollypaw welcomed him.

  “Me too!” Lionpaw purred.

  He longed to race into the trees, impatient to see what was there, but he forced himself to wait while the others crossed. Hazelpaw weaved her way among the jutting twigs; Berrypaw pushed his way through with his powerful shoulders, while Spiderleg slipped around them like a snake, clearly accustomed to the crossing. Lionpaw felt very small and inexperienced, but he lifted his chin and forced his fur to lie flat.

  Finally, all the ThunderClan cats stood on the beach. Firestar swept his gaze over them, then, with a single nod, turned and padded into the trees. At last! Lionpaw raced between the shadowy trunks, bracken scraping his pelt. His ears twitched with anticipation as the trees thinned and a clearing opened ahead.

  There were cats everywhere. Lionpaw had never seen so many different shades of pelts. Some were lithe, some broad-shouldered. Most seemed much bigger than him. There were more cats here than Lionpaw had imagined could live around the lake, and these were just a few from each Clan! At the far edge of the clearing, with the lake behind it sparkling distantly through the leaf-bare forest, he saw the Great Oak, the center of every Gathering.

  “Is it what you expected?” Hollypaw whispered.

  “I didn’t realize there would be so many cats.” Lionpaw stared at a RiverClan tom, his pelt so sleek that it shone in the moonlight as he flexed his well-muscled shoulders. “Imagine meeting him in battle! I’m going to train twice as hard from now on.”

  “How can you be thinking about fighting?” Hollypaw scolded. “There’s a truce tonight. You should be trying to work out whether he thinks like a ThunderClan warrior.” Her eyes narrowed. “If you know how your enemy thinks, then you have already won half the battle.”

  Lionpaw glanced sideways at his sister. Where did she come up with this stuff? Here he was, wondering if he could match any of these cats in a fight, and she was already working out battle strategies like she was a Clan leader.

  Mousepaw’s eyes twinkled. “Why not go and ask him?”

  Hollypaw gasped. “Can we really just go up and talk to any cat?”

  “Well,” Mousepaw cautioned, “you’d be better off talking to the apprentices.” He dipped his head toward a group of smaller RiverClan cats. “The warriors from the other Clans aren’t dangerous or anything, but they won’t be pleased to have some young apprentice pestering them.”

  “What if they talk to us?” Lionpaw asked.

  “Just be polite and don’t give too much information away,” Hazelpaw warned. “Some of the warriors might use your inexperience to find out what’s happening in ThunderClan.”

  “Did you spill any secrets at your first Gathering, Mousepaw?” Hollypaw asked.

  “Of course not!” Mousepaw sniffed.

  “Yeah, right!” Berrypaw interjected sarcastically. “If I hadn’t clamped my tail over your mouth you would have told Russetfur that Firestar was about to give up the land by the river before Firestar had a chance to announce it himself.”

  “But she’s the ShadowClan deputy!” Mousepaw argued. “I couldn’t just ignore her.”

  “You didn’t have to tell her your Clan’s whole history either,” Berrypaw mewed, his whiskers twitching.

  “Well,” Hollypaw mewed suddenly, “I’m going to see what everyone else is talking about.”

  She began to head toward the group of wide-eyed RiverClan apprentices when a small, pale tabby came hurtling toward her across the clearing.

  “Hollypaw!” It was the RiverClan medicine cat apprentice, her bright green eyes flashing in the moonlight.

  “Hi, Willowpaw!” Hollypaw stopped to greet her.

  Willowpaw skidded to a halt and stared at her in delight. “Mothwing told me that you’re Leafpool’s apprentice now.”

  Hollypaw dipped her head. “That’s right.”

  “Great!” Willowpaw mewed. “Have you had your first dream from StarClan yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “I bet you do soon,” Willowpaw assured her. “Come on!” She swept her tail around Hollypaw. “I’ll introduce you to the other medicine cats.”

  Willowpaw led Hollypaw toward where Leafpool was sharing tongues with a group of cats. Lionpaw felt a flash of envy. As a medicine cat apprentice, his sister would have a special connection with all the Clans. He shuffled his paws nervously as he gazed at the strange faces around him. Then he remembered that the truce lasted for only one night. These cats were his enemies. There was no point making friends. His duty was to get to know them so that he knew their strengths—and their weaknesses—when he met them in battle.

  “I’m going to talk to Harepaw,” Berrypaw announced.

  “I’m coming too,” Hazelpaw mewed.

  Lionpaw, alone now with Mousepaw, glanced around the clearing. He spotted a tightly clustered group of cats watching from the foot of the Great Oak. The shadows disguised the color of their pelts, and something about the way their eyes shone in the gloom made him shudder.

  “Are they ShadowClan?” he whispered to Mousepaw.

  Mousepaw nodded. “Don’t let them scare you. They like to look like they’re enemies with all the world. But once you start talking to them, they’re okay.”

  “Are you sure?” Lionpaw wasn’t entirely convinced.

  But Mousepaw didn’t hear him. “Minnowpaw!” he mewed. He was staring at a young gray-and-white RiverClan she-cat whose pelt looked as downy as kit fur.

  “She looks barely out of the nursery,” Lionpaw remarked.

  Mousepaw’s ears twitched. “She’s a whole moon older than me,” he corrected. “Come and talk to her,” he went on. “You’ll see she’s not as soft as sh
e looks.”

  Lionpaw followed Mousepaw over to where Minnowpaw sat with two more RiverClan apprentices, one gray and one brown tabby. His nose twitched as he scented them. He knew the stench of ShadowClan and WindClan from their border markers, but RiverClan’s fresh, fish-tinged scent smelled strange.

  Minnowpaw nodded to them in welcome. Though she was slighter and softer in looks than her Clanmates, her amber eyes were sharp and intelligent. “Who’s your friend?” she asked Mousepaw.

  Mousepaw was staring at her with a wistful look in his eyes. “This is Lionpaw.”

  “Hello, Lionpaw,” mewed Minnowpaw. “This is Pouncepaw”—she nodded toward the brown tabby she-cat beside her—“and Pebblepaw.” She flicked her tail toward the gray tom.

  “What do you think of the island?” Pouncepaw asked.

  “It’s great,” Lionpaw replied.

  “We can show you around, if you like,” Minnowpaw offered.

  Mousepaw’s eyes lit up. Clearly he liked the idea of a starlit stroll with the pretty apprentice. But Lionpaw would rather explore the place for himself, especially if Mousepaw was going to be round-eyed and moony over Minnowpaw the whole time.

  “Thanks for the offer,” he mewed. “But Mousepaw’s promised to introduce me to some of the other cats.”

  Mousepaw gazed at him blankly. “Huh? Have I?”

  “Come on!” Lionpaw prompted before Mousepaw could object. He padded away from the group and Mousepaw sighed, but followed him across the clearing.

  Suddenly a soft voice sounded in his ear. “Are you Jaypaw’s brother?”

  He swung around to find a light brown tabby she-cat gazing at him with eyes the color of a late-afternoon sky.

  “Y-yes,” he stammered. “How did you know?”

  “Berrypaw told me. I’m Heatherpaw, by the way.”

  Because your eyes are the color of heather…

  “Jaypaw might have mentioned me,” Heatherpaw went on. “I was there when Crowfeather saved him from drowning. Has he recovered?”

  Lionpaw forced himself to stop gaping like a startled rabbit. “Jaypaw?” he echoed. “Oh, he’s fine now.”

  “Is he here?” Heatherpaw inquired.

  Lionpaw was having trouble remembering where any of his littermates were right now.

  “Not this time,” Mousepaw answered for him, sounding impatient.

  “I still can’t believe he was out alone when he’s blind,” Heatherpaw breathed. “He must be so brave!”

  Lionpaw felt a twinge of envy. “Most of the time he’s just grumpy,” he told her. “Especially now that he’s been confined to the camp for a quarter moon.”

  “Poor Jaypaw,” Heatherpaw sympathized. “I’d be miserable if I were stuck in camp.”

  “Me too,” Lionpaw agreed.

  “How long have you been an apprentice?” Heatherpaw asked.

  “Since quarter moon. What about you?”

  “For a moon and a half now,” she replied. “This is my second Gathering.”

  “Have you met Mousepaw before?” Lionpaw asked, sensing that his Clanmate was growing restless and casting longing glances back to the RiverClan apprentices.

  “We’ve never spoken,” Heatherpaw confessed. “But I saw him last time talking to Russetfur.” She looked at Mousepaw. “Did Russetfur get any information out of you? She tried to from me, but fortunately Crowfeather had warned me not to give anything away.”

  Before Mousepaw could answer, a black tom with amber eyes trotted up to them. “We ought to join our Clan,” he told Heatherpaw gruffly, ignoring the ThunderClan apprentices. “The meeting’s about to begin.”

  “This is Breezepaw,” Heatherpaw told Mousepaw and Lionpaw. “He’s our newest apprentice.” Her whiskers twitched. “Though you couldn’t tell it from his manner. He’s been trying to boss the other apprentices from the moment he went from a ’kit to a ’paw.”

  Breezepaw stared furiously at her, and the tip of his tail flicked from side to side.

  “Don’t worry, Breezepaw,” Heatherpaw went on. “You’ll be a warrior before you know it, and then you can boss all the apprentices around.”

  Breezepaw narrowed his eyes, clearly unsure whether she was being serious or not.

  Heatherpaw glanced at Lionpaw, then whispered loud enough for Breezepaw to hear, “He thinks that I have to do what he says because his father, Crowfeather, is my mentor.”

  “You know Crowfeather would never—” Breezepaw started to object.

  “Oh, come on, Breezepaw!” Heatherpaw pleaded. “Lighten up!” She gave his flank a nudge with her muzzle, then turned back to Lionpaw. “It’s hard to believe, but Breezepaw can be great fun on a good day.”

  A commanding meow sounded from the Great Oak. “We meet beneath Silverpelt—”

  “That’s Onestar calling for the meeting to start!” Heatherpaw gasped.

  Lionpaw swung around and saw the four Clan leaders sitting like owls in the lowest branch of the tree. Onestar, the lithe brown tabby who led WindClan, was speaking.

  “…commanded by the truce of the full moon.”

  Breezepaw flashed Heatherpaw a look that said, I told you so, and hurried away to join the rest of his Clan. Heatherpaw rolled her eyes at Lionpaw, then followed her Clanmate.

  Feeling more confident now, Lionpaw joined the cats gathering around the base of the oak. He weaved among his Clanmates till he found a space between Hollypaw and Spiderleg.

  Firestar sat beside Onestar on the branch. A sleek, spotted tabby she-cat sat next to him. Lionpaw guessed that was Leopardstar of RiverClan. Beyond her was a huge white tom with jet-black paws—ShadowClan’s leader, Blackstar.

  “WindClan has one new apprentice this moon,” Onestar announced. “Breezepaw.” The black-pelted apprentice lifted his chin, apparently quite undaunted by having cats from all four Clans turning to stare at him. Lionpaw’s heart began to race. He hoped he could act so coolly when it was his turn to be named.

  “Leaf-bare has been kind to us this last moon,” Onestar went on. “The rabbits are running, but not too fast to catch, and the windy weather has made hunting hard for the buzzards and hawks, which leaves more prey for us.”

  An alarming thought struck Lionpaw. Would Onestar mention Jaypaw’s intrusion into WindClan territory? He leaned forward, ears pricked.

  “Other than that,” Onestar went on, “WindClan has nothing important to report.”

  Lionpaw glanced, relieved, at Hollypaw. She leaned against him. “Thank StarClan he didn’t say anything about Jaypaw,” she whispered.

  Onestar turned to Blackstar, nodding for him to speak next.

  “ShadowClan has one new apprentice too,” Blackstar began. He looked down at a wiry brown she-cat sitting among the ShadowClan warriors. “Ivypaw.”

  Ivypaw nodded, her eyes narrowed. She didn’t look pleased or proud to be announced as a new apprentice, as Breezepaw had.

  Do ShadowClan cats ever show their feelings? Lionpaw wondered. He felt Hollypaw fidgeting beside him. Her eyes were shining with excitement. “Our turn next!” she breathed.

  But Blackstar had not finished. “Hunting has been good for ShadowClan since we enlarged our territory.”

  Lionpaw stiffened as he heard a gasp from the ThunderClan warriors around him. Was Blackstar really going to make out that they had seized the land by the river from ThunderClan?

  “Our new stretch of territory is a great source of prey,” Blackstar meowed.

  Liar!

  Spiderleg muttered under his breath, “Firestar would never have given it up if it were!”

  “ShadowClan would like to thank Firestar for his generosity in granting it to us,” Blackstar finished with poisonous gratitude.

  Firestar stared levelly at him. “I am pleased to hear that you are getting so much out of a piece of land prey-poor by ThunderClan standards,” he meowed.

  “Yes!” Hollypaw hissed. A subdued ripple of approval passed through the ThunderClan cats.

  Then Firestar turned his gree
n gaze on the crowd. “ThunderClan are fortunate to have more than one”—he lingered over the word—“new apprentice this moon.”

  Lionpaw’s ears twitched. Pride and anxiety churned in his belly.

  “Jaypaw couldn’t come tonight.” Murmurs of surprise rose from the other Clans, but the ThunderClan leader carried on. “But Hollypaw is here.” Hollypaw’s green eyes shone like stars, her black pelt almost invisible in the gloom. Then Firestar’s gaze flicked to Lionpaw. “And Lionpaw.”

  Lionpaw could hardly hear anything for the blood rushing in his ears. He puffed his chest out and held up his chin, feeling his pelt burn under the stares from the other cats. In a moment that was at once too short and too long, it was over, and Firestar was carrying on with his report.

  “We have been lucky this leaf-bare,” he meowed. “There has been frost but little snow, and the prey has continued to run.”

  Lionpaw’s pelt prickled. There was a new scent in the air, something he hadn’t smelled before. Some of the other cats clearly scented it too—he could see their heads turning, searching the edge of the clearing.

  There was a rustle in the bracken close to where the WindClan cats were gathered and in the shadows Lionpaw saw movement.

  Firestar fell silent and watched with the other cats as two lithe shapes emerged from the undergrowth.

  “Intruders!” The alert spread through the Clans like wildfire. All around Lionpaw felt pelts bristling in alarm and battle-hungry muscles tensing, ready to spring.

  The WindClan warriors who were nearest lunged at the strangers. Yowling and hissing, they wrestled the trespassers to the ground.

  Are they going to kill them? Lionpaw turned back to the Great Oak, wondering what the leaders would do.

  Firestar’s fur was standing on end. His tail was stiff with shock, and his ears were pricked as he sniffed the air and sniffed again.

  “Stop!”

  The WindClan cats froze and drew back, leaving the two strangers standing alone on the edge of the Clans. Lionpaw strained to see over the heads of the other cats.

  In a voice that was taut with shock and disbelief, Firestar called a name Lionpaw had only ever heard mentioned in nursery stories.

  “Graystripe!”