Warriors: Power Of Three 5 - Long Shadows (16 page)

“Hi, Jaypaw!” Kestrelpaw sounded surprised but warm.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d visit you.” Jaypaw tensed, wondering if Kestrelpaw would realize how weird that was. If he was too disturbed he might wake, and Jaypaw would be thrown out of the dream and back into his own nest.

“Great.” Kestrelpaw flicked his ears in welcome. “Isn’t it a beautiful day? I thought I’d come out early and look for a few herbs.”

Jaypaw longed to ask Kestrelpaw what kind of herbs he hoped to find, but he was still wary of spooking the other apprentice. Instead, he just followed Kestrelpaw across the moor.

“Does this stream f low down toward ThunderClan?” he asked casually as they leaped across a trickle of brown, peaty water fringed by reeds.

“Yes, it joins the border stream,” Kestrelpaw replied.

He’s not suspicious at all, Jaypaw thought. After all, it’s just a dream, right?

“I don’t suppose you find much prey up here,” he went on, anxious to keep the WindClan cat talking.

“Then you suppose wrong!” Kestrelpaw’s tail shot up and he raised his head proudly. “Can’t you smell all the rabbits?

And sometimes we catch birds; Crowfeather taught us how the Tribe hunts in the mountains.”

“I guess you’ve got to be fast,” Jaypaw commented.

Kestrelpaw gave his chest fur a couple of quick licks. “That’s what WindClan cats are best at.”

“So what about herbs?” Jaypaw went on, his belly churning as he asked the question that really mattered. “It looks pretty bleak up here. Not the right place for growing most kinds of plants.”

“Wrong again. We’ve got good stocks tucked away along the streams, and in that bit of woodland next to the ThunderClan border.”

“That must be good for water mint,” Jaypaw remarked.

“What about catmint?”

“Oh, yes, we’ve got plenty of that.” Kestrelpaw pointed with his nose toward a spot where the moor dipped down sharply to a tumble of rocks. “Down there.”

“Really?” Jaypaw forced himself to sound mildly interested, when what he really wanted to do was bounce up and down caterwauling in triumph.

“Yes, there’s—”

Just in front of the two apprentices, a rabbit started up out of a gorse thicket and streaked away across the moor. Kestrelpaw broke off what he was saying and raced after it, his belly fur brushing the coarse grass.

“Thanks, rabbit,” Jaypaw murmured.

He waited until the WindClan apprentice had disappeared, then scrambled down the slope to the rocks. Sniffing the air, he picked up the scent of water and a strong smell of catmint. A few heartbeats later he found it: a spring welling up between two of the rocks, with thick clumps of catmint growing all around it.

For a moment Jaypaw stood still, breathing in the scent of the precious herb. He wished desperately that he could tear off a bundle of the stalks and carry them back to his Clan, but he was still dreaming. Some cat would have to come here in the waking world, and steal some of the herb from WindClan.

It’s not really stealing, he told himself. Not when we need it so badly.

And WindClan has plenty.

Gradually Jaypaw realized that the catmint was not all he could smell. A familiar scent clung around the rocks, the scent of caves and earth and deeply buried water. Scrambling among the stones, he tried to find where the scent was strongest.

Finally he found it: a narrow gap between the rocks, leading down into darkness.

This must be an entrance to the underground tunnels! Maybe this is the way WindClan came when they raided our territory.

In the mud in front of the gap he could see the traces of several paw prints. Taking a quick glance around, he padded forward and squeezed himself through the gap. The passage quickly grew wider, and Jaypaw could make out the scent of WindClan cats clinging to the stones.

“Jaypaw! Jaypaw!”

Jaypaw stiffened; had Kestrelpaw spotted him going into the tunnel and become suspicious?

“Jaypaw!” A paw prodded him sharply in the side. “Jaypaw, Millie’s fever is worse. Can you fetch her some moss soaked with water?”

Jaypaw opened his eyes on darkness and scrambled out of his nest, shaking himself to dislodge scraps of moss and bracken from his pelt. The chill of early dawn filled the den, together with Leafpool’s fear scent; at the other side he could hear Millie’s harsh breathing and Briarkit mewling pitifully.

“She’s going to die, isn’t she?” The little kit sounded terrified. “And I’ll never see her again, ’cause I don’t know the way to StarClan.”

“We’re doing all we can.” Leafpool moved away, and Jaypaw pictured her bending her head to comfort the frightened kit. “And even if she does die, you’ll see her again one day.

When she’s in StarClan, she’ll know the right time to come and fetch you.”

“Are you sure?” Briarkit still sounded uncertain.

“I promise you,” Leafpool reassured her.

Jaypaw’s legs started to shake with fear. Leafpool was acting as if she was resigned to watching every one of her Clanmates die. We have to get that catmint now! “I’ll fetch the moss,” he mewed, and whisked out of the den.

As soon as he had delivered the dripping moss to Millie, he slipped out again and crept through the branches into the warriors’ den. The air was full of the warm scent of sleeping cats; it was so early that hardly any of them were stirring.

Jaypaw located Lionblaze by his scent, and woke him with a sharp prod in the shoulder.

“Uhhh . . . ?” Lionblaze’s muscles flexed and he raised his head. “Jaypaw? Is something wrong?”

Jaypaw bent his head to whisper in his brother’s ear. “I know where there’s a supply of catmint.”

“Really?” Jaypaw could sense Lionblaze’s excitement.

“Where?”

“In WindClan, near the entrance to a tunnel. You have to go and fetch some.”

The excitement Jaypaw could feel in Lionblaze changed abruptly to horror and disgust. “No,” he mewed hoarsely. “I’ll never go to WindClan. Never!”

Lionblaze felt cool grass brushing his belly fur as he crept forward.

The scent of WindClan was in his nostrils. Leaves scraped his pelt and left raindrops on his ears and whiskers, but he was concentrating too hard to flick them away. Every muscle in his body was focused on what he could see in front of him.

Now! Pushing off with his powerful back legs, Lionblaze leaped. The squirrel fled, but it was too late. Lionblaze’s claws sank into its shoulders and he killed it with a swift bite to the throat.

As the squirrel went limp, Lionblaze’s vision blurred. A lake of scarlet, sticky blood spread out across the grass and leaves of the forest floor; he could taste the stench of it. The squirrel became a gray-furred she-cat. Lionblaze found himself looking down at Heatherpaw’s dead body; her blood clogged his paws.

“No . . . oh, no,” he whispered.

Ever since Jaypaw had asked him to fetch the catmint from WindClan, two sunrises before, Lionblaze had felt guilty. But he couldn’t do it. He was too scared that his dream would come true, and he would end up killing Heatherpaw.

He shuddered, staring at the dreadful vision of the dead cat he had once loved. Yet again, he wished that he could be an ordinary warrior, without the powers that terrified him more and more as they grew stronger.

If only I could tell Jaypaw how I feel . . . But he couldn’t show weak-ness to his brother, not when Jaypaw was depending on him to fulfill his part of the prophecy. He only knew that he couldn’t risk going into WindClan territory, especially not through the tunnels. Heatherpaw had betrayed him; Lionblaze desperately wanted to believe her story that it was the kits who had given away the secret of the tunnels, but he couldn’t be sure that was true. Heatherpaw was his enemy now, because he was completely committed to ThunderClan. Why should he trust a cat from another Clan? He would never forgive Heatherpaw, but he still didn’t want her blood on his paws.

As the vision faded, Lionblaze straightened up with his prey in his jaws. Ashfur was approaching through the bracken from the stream that marked the WindClan border, carrying a couple of voles by their tails. Spiderleg followed him with a mouse.

“Well done.” Ashfur nodded at Lionblaze, dropping his prey nearby. “Have you seen Sorreltail? We’ve caught as much as we can manage.”

“Here.” Sorreltail staggered through the undergrowth, dragging a rabbit nearly as big as she was. “Whew!” Dropping her prey, she spat out a clump of fur. “Some other cat can carry that back.”

As they padded back to the stone hollow, Lionblaze’s worries started to creep back into his mind. So far leaf-fall had been mild and prey was running well, but there weren’t enough warriors fit to hunt. When he had left the camp that morning, Brightheart was coughing, and he had spotted Honeyfern heading toward the medicine cats’ den. How long before so many cats are sick that there aren’t enough of us left to take care of them?

The fresh-kill pile was ominously low when Lionblaze dropped his prey on it.

“We’ll go out again right away,” Ashfur announced, “but we should all eat something first, to keep our strength up.”

“I’m fine,” Sorreltail meowed. “One of the sick cats can have mine.”

Ashfur padded up to her. “You will eat. What good will you be to your Clan if you get sick too?”

Sorreltail stared back at him rebelliously for a heartbeat, then dropped her gaze. “Okay. You’re right.” But Lionblaze noticed that she chose the smallest mouse from the pile.

As he gulped down a vole, he spotted Jaypaw emerging from the warriors’ den. Swallowing the last mouthful, he bounded across to him.

“How’s Brightheart?” he asked. “I heard her coughing this morning. And Honeyfern was on her way to your den.”

“Like you care!” Jaypaw snapped at him.

“I do!” Guilt and indignation battled inside Lionblaze.

That’s not why I won’t go to WindClan!

“They both have greencough,” Jaypaw mewed curtly.

“Cloudtail, too. I’ve told them not to leave their nests. Now will you go and fetch the catmint?”

“I can’t.” Lionblaze f linched from the fury in Jaypaw’s eyes.

He wished that he could explain to Jaypaw about his dreams; then he would understand why it was impossible for him to go to WindClan. “Why can’t you send another cat instead?”

he asked.

“You know why!” Jaypaw spat, his fur bristling up. “You know what it’s like in the tunnels.”

“So does Hollyleaf,” Lionblaze argued. “She could go—”

“Hollyleaf!” Jaypaw interrupted. “You know what she’s like about the warrior code. Do you think she’d agree to trespass on another Clan’s territory and steal their herbs? She’d claw our ears off if we even mentioned it. No, it has to be you.

Besides, you’re the best fighter we’ve got, and if you get caught you’ll need your powers to escape.”

“Then why can’t Leafpool ask Barkface for some catmint?”

“Stupid furball!” Jaypaw hissed. “Which cats did we just fight? Barkface might give Leafpool catmint, but Onestar would have to know, and if he found out ThunderClan is weak, he’d attack again before you could say ‘mouse.’” Lashing his tail, he added, “It’s useless talking to you. I never thought my own brother would stand by and let his Clan die.” Spinning around, he stalked toward his den.

Lionblaze watched him go, then padded sadly back to the patrol by the fresh-kill pile. Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight had appeared, and Graystripe bounded up to choose a piece of fresh-kill and head for the medicine cats’ den.

“Take some for yourself as well,” Squirrelf light called after him, but Graystripe gave no sign that he’d heard her.

“Okay, Ashfur,” Brambleclaw meowed, “when you take your patrol out again, go along the ShadowClan border. You can combine the border patrol with some hunting. But when you get back, that’s it for today. You need to rest.”

“Take your own advice, then.” Squirrelflight gave her mate a flick on the shoulder with her tail. “You need to rest, too.”

“I can’t.” Lionblaze’s heart sank when he saw how bright Brambleclaw’s eyes were, and heard the rasp in his voice. “I need to fix up more patrols.”

Sorreltail leaned in to Lionblaze and murmured in his ear,

“If your father gets ill . . .”

Lionblaze nodded, but didn’t reply. There was no need.

With Firestar sick, ThunderClan depended on their deputy to protect them.

Oh, StarClan, Lionblaze thought, why are you letting this happen?

Gray clouds covered the sky, but the air was still mild; wind rustled through the trees above the hollow, but down below the cats were sheltered. Lionblaze had just returned from a hunting patrol with Brambleclaw, Hollyleaf, and Cinderheart.

Brackenfur and Sorreltail were sprawled near the fresh-kill pile, sharing tongues, while Sandstorm crouched beside them, eating a thrush.

As Lionblaze and the others dropped their prey on the pile, Leafpool and Jaypaw appeared to choose fresh-kill for themselves.

“How is Millie?” Sandstorm asked, looking up from her thrush.

“If she doesn’t get some catmint soon, she’ll die,” Leafpool meowed f latly.

Jaypaw shot a furious glare at Lionblaze as he snatched a mouse from the pile; Lionblaze felt it like a claw raking across his pelt. Stop blaming me! I can’t go to WindClan!

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the flicker of a flame-colored pelt up on the Highledge. Looking up, he saw that Firestar had appeared. Every hair on his pelt tingled with shock. What was the Clan leader doing out of his nest? He looked unsteady on his paws, and when he opened his jaws to speak all that came out was a cough.

“Firestar!” Sandstorm leaped to her feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Go back to your nest right now!” Leafpool sprang up and raced for the rocks, closely followed by Sandstorm.

Firestar stretched out a paw to halt them. “Don’t come any closer,” he rasped. “The sickness spreads too easily. We have to get the sick cats out of the camp to keep the others healthy.”

“But we can’t do that,” Leafpool objected, halting at the foot of the tumbled rocks. “There’s nowhere for them to go.”

“Yes, there is,” Firestar told her, his too-bright eyes shining with triumph. “The old Twoleg nest has walls and a roof to shelter us, and there’s a stream nearby where we can drink.”