Warriors: Power Of Three 2 - Dark River (11 page)

“Cinderpaw?” Cautiously, Jaypaw padded toward her, tasting the air. It didn’t smell like StarClan territory, but there were definitely some scents that he recognized. A tree stump near the edge of the clearing seemed to smell of Firestar and Graystripe. The bramble bush beside him carried the scents of Dustpelt and Thornclaw.

Cinderpaw gazed around, wide-eyed, her tail twitching with pleasure. “It’s just as I remembered! I haven’t been here for such a long time.”

What did she mean? This wasn’t ThunderClan territory.

How could Cinderpaw have been here? It didn’t even feel like anywhere near the lake. The wind sounded different as it rustled the leaves in the trees at the top of the ravine. The air tasted warmer, filled with a damp fustiness that Jaypaw had never scented before.

“Look here!” Cinderpaw was padding over to the huge rock. “This is Highrock.”

Then she turned and bounded over to the bramble bush that smelled of Thornclaw. “And this is the warriors’ den.

The elders’ den is over there.” She flicked her tail toward a fallen tree. “And over here”—she raced across the clearing to another bush—“is the apprentices’ den. I used to sleep here before . . . ” Her mew trailed away, her eyes growing misty. She blinked. “Then I moved to Yellowfang’s den.”

Yellowfang! The name seared Jaypaw’s ears. Yellowfang had been ThunderClan’s medicine cat before Cinderpelt. She was with StarClan now, and it seemed to Jaypaw that her main duty was to butt into his dreams. He could picture her, yellow eyes sparking, matted pelt bristling with impatience. . . .

“Come and see!” Cinderpaw’s mew interrupted his thoughts.

An eerie feeling pricked his tail as she led him through a narrow tunnel to a much smaller clearing. A rock towered at the far end, split down the middle by a cleft big enough for a den.

Cinderpaw gazed wistfully into the shadowy cave.

“Yellowfang kept her herbs in there.”

“Yellowfang’s dead,” Jaypaw mewed. “She’s in StarClan now.”

Cinderpaw looked at him. “Of course she is! Where else would she be?”

“I don’t understand. Why are you acting as if you lived here too?”

“Because I did. Many moons ago, before we left the forest.”

“But you never lived in the forest!”

“Once I did.” Cinderpaw’s blue eyes sparkled with starlight. “But I have returned to tread a different path, the path of a warrior.” She looked warmly at him, and when she spoke her voice seemed deeper, more wise, as if she’d aged in front of him. “Tell Leafpool that she has nothing to fear. I will recover this time. And tell her that I am proud of her. She has learned more than I could ever have taught her.”

Jaypaw’s pelt bristled. Vivid images were thronging in his mind: a young gray cat running through an unfamiliar forest, a monster screeching off a Thunderpath, agony piercing her hind leg, blood and the wails of her Clanmates; memories of learning herbs, limping after Yellowfang, of kits born in a river of blood, of fear and the forest being ripped apart by monsters, of a long hard journey through snow and ice and of snarling, vicious black-and-white creatures, jaws snapping, hungry for revenge and for death. . . .

Jaypaw took a gulp of air, his paws unsteady beneath him.

“You’re Cinderpelt, aren’t you?”

He awoke with a gasp, his pads wet, his tail fluffed out. He jerked his head up, darkness filling his vision once more.

“Jaypaw?” Leafpool’s breath stirred his fur. “Were you dreaming?”

Jaypaw struggled to his paws and leaned over the injured apprentice lying next to him. Cinderpaw’s breathing was light and steady.

“Jaypaw?” Leafpool prompted. “You were dreaming, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” Jaypaw tried to catch his breath. The violent visions he had seen still flickered in his mind, red with blood and pain and fear.

“Will she get better?” Leafpool asked quietly.

“Yes.”

Leafpool let out a relieved purr.

“She has been here before,” Jaypaw whispered.

Leafpool touched his flank gently with her tail. “I thought so,” she breathed. “She’s Cinderpelt, isn’t she?”

“She led me to the old ThunderClan camp,” Jaypaw explained. “She seemed so happy to be there.” He paused, suddenly aware of Cinderpaw’s body resting beside them.

“Do you think she knows?”

“No, not in her waking world,” Leafpool murmured. “And we shouldn’t tell her.”

“Why not?”

“It’s enough that StarClan have let her come back and tread the warrior’s path she always dreamed of following.”

Jaypaw pricked his ears. “Didn’t she want to be a medicine cat?” Then I am not the only one.

“She only became a medicine cat after a monster crippled her. After the accident, there was no chance she could be a true warrior, so she served her Clan in a different way.”

“But wouldn’t she be happy to know that she is fulfilling her dream now?”

“If StarClan wants her to know, they will tell her.” Leafpool’s mew grew serious. “We should not try to shape her destiny.”

“Do you think telling her would change it?” Jaypaw’s mind began to race. Did Leafpool believe that destinies could be changed like that? Did that mean he was right to keep the secret of Firestar’s prophecy from Lionpaw and Hollypaw? If he told them, would it make them act differently?

“Leafpool?” Cinderpaw stirred beside them. Her voice was hoarse.

“I’ll fetch you some water,” Jaypaw offered. He found a wad of moss and soaked it in the shallow pool at the side of the den.

“Here.” He offered it, dripping, to Cinderpaw. She lapped at it eagerly, then murmured something he couldn’t make out.

He leaned closer.

“I’m hungry,” she croaked.

He heard Leafpool purr with amusement. “That’s more like the old Cinderpel—” She corrected herself. “Cinder paw.

I’ll fetch her something from the fresh-kill pile.”

As Leafpool padded out of the den, Jaypaw heard Cinderpaw trying to stretch beside him. “Ow, my leg.”

“It’ll get better. You need to rest now.”

“Where am I?” she murmured groggily.

“You’re exactly where you belong.” Jaypaw ran his tail along her flank. “In ThunderClan.”

“I name you Lionclaw, warrior of DarkClan!”

Lionpaw flexed his claws as Heatherpaw called down to him from the highest ledge in the cave. Moonlight, streaming through the gap in the roof, fell silver on her pelt.

She leaped down and touched her nose to his. “Congratulations.”

Lionpaw’s fur tingled.

“But first”—Heatherpaw’s blue eyes flashed in the half-light—“you have to prove yourself a warrior by outrunning me.”

“That’s not fair!” Lionpaw flicked his tail. “WindClan cats are really fast; everyone knows that.”

“If you want to be a DarkClan warrior, you’ve got to be as fast as me.”

“In that case”—Lionpaw launched himself at her, stretching his paws around her to soften her fall, but pinning her to the ground—“you’ve got to prove you’re as strong as me!”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You didn’t warn me!” she mewed.

“The leader of DarkClan must be prepared for anything.”

“Like this?” She slithered from his grasp, darted behind him as fast as a blink, and grabbed his tail gently but firmly between her teeth.

“Hey!” he yelped, trying to reach around and swipe her away. She dodged and he found himself swiping at thin air, his tail still held firm. He twisted the other way, trying to reach her, but she dodged again. He could hear a rumbling in her throat and her whiskers were twitching.

She let go. “You looked so funny flapping your paws around! Like a fledgling just out of the nest!”

Lionpaw stared at her, happiness welling in his chest. Just the sight of her blue eyes and soft fur made warmth surge beneath his pelt. “I wish you were in ThunderClan.”

She shuddered. “Under all those trees and closed in by stone walls? No, thanks! Besides,” she went on, “we don’t need to live in the same Clan when we’ve got this cave all to ourselves.” She reached out a paw and batted something from the fur behind his ear. “Just a burr.” She flicked it onto the ground.

“Thanks.”

Heatherpaw was right about the cave. Lionpaw knew he wouldn’t want to live on the moorland any more than she’d want to live in the forest. This cave was the perfect solution.

They’d been meeting here for half a moon now, and none of his Clanmates suspected a thing. Not even his nosy sister.

“I wonder where some of these other tunnels lead?”

Heatherpaw leaped over the river and began to sniff at one of the openings.

Lionpaw jumped after her. Dank, stale air seeped from the tunnel and he shivered.

“Do you think one leads into ShadowClan territory?”

Heatherpaw wondered.

The fur along Lionpaw’s spine lifted. “I hope not.”

“We could explore.”

Lionpaw backed away. “There’s no hurry. We have enough fun here.” He glanced around the cave. Getting here still made his paws quiver. There was something spooky about the tunnels and he was always relieved to find Heatherpaw waiting for him in the moonlit cave.

Heatherpaw’s eyes sparkled. “There might be all sorts of terrible creatures down there with big teeth and sharp claws—”

Lionpaw nudged her. “Shut up!”

She darted away. “Come on!” she called. “You still have to prove you’re a warrior!” She crossed the river with a graceful leap.

Lionpaw dived after her. As he landed, his hind paws slipped backward into the dark water. The splash echoed around the cave. Lionpaw’s heart lurched as he felt the strong tug of the current and he scrambled forward, shaking droplets from his paws.

“Careful,” Heatherpaw warned. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Lionpaw gulped at the thought of being dragged away into the tunnels by the river. Seeking comfort in Silverpelt, he glanced up at the gap in the roof. The sky outside was lightening. “We have to go.”

Heatherpaw sighed.

“Tomorrow night?” Lionpaw mewed hopefully.

“Can’t.” Heatherpaw wove around him, brushing her light tabby pelt against his. “I have a training assessment the day after. I don’t want to be too tired.”

“Okay.” Lionpaw shrugged; he understood. She had to put her Clan first. But he would still miss her.

“Bye.”

They hurried away, each to their separate tunnel. Lionpaw was relieved that he knew the path well enough now to be able to run all the way. Jaypaw would be surprised to know how fast his brother could race through the blackness, using only his whiskers to guide him. He burst from the entrance, relieved to smell fresh air once more.

This is my part of the forest! He wriggled happily under the brambles and pulled himself out the other side. The older warriors acted like they had created ThunderClan territory because they had brought the Clans to the lake, but Lionpaw knew that they hadn’t explored every paw step of it yet. The fact that he knew about the cave proved that there were still places left to find. It would be the young cats who would do that, who would make this land their own.

Through the leaves he could see that the star-studded sky was growing pale. He began to race through the forest. He had to get home before the camp woke.

“Greetings, Lionpaw.” A deep mew sounded in his ear and fur brushed his flank.

Lionpaw bristled with alarm. He glanced sideways and saw the faint outline of a cat keeping pace with him. Am I dreaming?

“We have been watching you.” The outline shimmered beside him—a huge tabby tom with amber eyes which shone in the half-light. The tom’s massive shoulders seemed strangely familiar.

Something brushed his other flank. Lionpaw turned, his heart pounding. Another shadowy cat was running beside him—a second tabby tom with ice-blue eyes, but the same massive shoulders.

“W-who are you?” he stammered.

“We are kin,” answered the amber-eyed tom.

Lionpaw glanced anxiously from one to the other. “Are you from StarClan?”

“We were warriors once,” the blue-eyed tom growled.

Lionpaw’s tail pricked. “T-Tigerstar? Hawkfrost?” Why had they come to him?

Hawkfrost stiffened, jerking his huge head around to stare away into the forest. “Someone’s coming,” he warned.

Lionpaw ducked behind a hazel tree.

Paw steps beat the forest floor—real, solid paw steps. As Lionpaw crouched, hardly daring to breathe, Spiderleg raced past, stirring the air so that it tugged at Lionpaw’s pelt. The long-limbed black tom bounded away, disappearing into a swath of ferns.

Lionpaw crept out from behind the hazel. “Tigerstar?” He glanced around. “Hawkfrost?”

The ghostly warriors had gone.

“Wait!” Lionpaw called in a whisper. “Come back.” He had to know why they had chosen to appear to him.

The ferns rustled where Spiderleg had disturbed them.

Then the forest fell silent, except for the call of the birds, heralding the dawn.

Lionpaw crept, yawning, through the dirtplace tunnel.

The camp lay in silence. Relief flooded his paws. Then guilt.

Away from Heatherpaw’s side he was suddenly aware how sneaky he was being. No cat was up. No sign of the dawn patrol preparing to leave yet. He shouldn’t feel so pleased that he’d be able to creep to his nest unnoticed and get some much-needed sleep. He scooted around the edge of the clearing, clinging to the shadows, then slipped into the apprentice den. Stepping lightly, he began to tiptoe toward his nest.

“Lionpaw?” Hollypaw lifted her head. “Is that you?”

Panic seared his paws, then irritation. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Where are you going?” she yawned.

Lionpaw hesitated. He couldn’t use the dirtplace excuse again. She’d think he was ill. “Dawn patrol,” he answered quickly.

Hazelpaw sat up groggily and blinked. “I thought I was doing that with Honeypaw?”

“I’m coming too,” Lionpaw mewed, “just for the experience.” His pelt burned. So many lies!

Hollypaw tucked her nose back under her paw. “Rather you than me,” she murmured.

“We’d better get a move on.” Hazelpaw prodded Honeypaw. “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s time to go.”

Lionpaw glanced longingly at his nest, his paws as heavy as stones, but Hazelpaw was already brushing past him, leading the way out of the den. He padded after her, leaving Honeypaw stretching in her nest.