Warriors: Power Of Three 5 - Long Shadows (31 page)

Gradually the cats around Ashfur’s body began to with-draw and creep back to their den. Lionblaze was the last to go, touching Jayfeather’s shoulder briefly with his tail before he left. Not knowing what else to do, Jayfeather settled down opposite Leafpool and began to help her lick the dead warrior’s fur. Sleep began to drift over him as he lapped with long, rhythmic strokes.

A gasp from Leafpool jolted him awake. Horror swirled around her like a stream in flood. “What’s the matter?” he meowed.

For a heartbeat he heard her tongue working busily. Then she hissed, “Come look at this.”

Jayfeather bit back the sarcastic reply that he couldn’t look at anything. He worked his way around Ashfur’s body until he was crouching next to his mentor. All Leafpool’s muscles were stiff and her neck fur was standing on end.

Jayfeather sniffed, picking up the scent of blood and raw flesh. Investigating with one paw, he felt the edges of a gash in Ashfur’s throat, the kind of mark he would expect to see on a cleanly killed piece of prey.

The kind of mark a cat didn’t get from falling into a stream and drowning, but was made deliberately. With a slash of claws.

“He didn’t drown,” Leafpool whispered hoarsely. “He was murdered!”

Jayfeather’s mind whirled. If it wasn’t for Leafpool’s care over the dead warrior’s body, no cat would ever have known how he had died. What would happen now?

“I’m going to tell Firestar,” Leafpool meowed.

Jayfeather heard her racing across the clearing toward the tumbled rocks. A few moments later two sets of paw steps returned and Firestar crouched beside him to examine the body.

“Who would do this?” Firestar sounded completely bewildered.

“WindClan?” Leafpool suggested, her voice sharp with suspicion. “We found him on the WindClan border.”

“You know very well there was no WindClan scent on him,” Firestar reminded her. Jayfeather could feel strong sensations of doubt coming from his Clan leader. “I know the water could have washed it away, but . . .” His voice grew softer, as if he was arguing with himself. “Why would WindClan kill just one warrior? Were they trying to warn us? But we’re not a threat to WindClan.”

“And Ashfur was Clanborn,” Jayfeather put in. “WindClan has no reason to quarrel with him personally.”

“True,” Firestar murmured. Jayfeather could hear his claws scoring the earth. “But if it wasn’t WindClan . . . then a ThunderClan cat must have killed Ashfur.”

“No!” Leafpool’s horrified whisper cut through Jayfeather like an eagle’s talon. “No ThunderClan cat would do such a thing. It must have been WindClan.” To Jayfeather it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as much as Firestar.

“What should we do?” she asked tensely.

The Clan leader hesitated. “This is no reason not to give honor to his body,” he decided at last. “We’ll let the elders go ahead and bury him. Then I’ll speak to the Clan.”

“I’ll fetch Mousefur and Longtail,” Leafpool meowed.

Jayfeather waited while the elders appeared from their den and the rest of the Clan gathered around to say farewell to Ashfur. Leafpool must have licked his fur back over the gash in his neck, because none of them seemed to notice it.

When Mousefur and Longtail had left the clearing with the gray warrior’s body dragging between them, Brambleclaw padded up to Firestar. “I’ll take the dawn patrol along the WindClan border,” he announced. “There might be some traces there to tell us what happened.”

“Good idea,” Firestar replied. “But don’t go just yet. There’s something I need to say to the whole Clan.”

Jayfeather picked up the deputy’s puzzlement, then jumped when Lionblaze muttered into his ear: “What’s going on?”

Part of Jayfeather wanted to tell Lionblaze exactly what he had found. But he couldn’t find the words. The discovery was too huge, with too many consequences that he couldn’t begin to imagine. “You’ll know soon enough,” he replied.

He stood beside his brother, his claws working in the earth, while he waited for the elders to return. Hollyleaf came to join them, anxiety boiling out of her like bees buzzing out of a tree. “Something terrible is going to happen,” she whispered.

“I can feel it.”

Eventually Mousefur and Longtail pushed their way through the thorns, back into the clearing. Firestar climbed up to the Highledge; Jayfeather heard his voice raised to carry to every corner of the camp.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting.”

Most of the Clan were already out in the open, though Jayfeather heard movement by the nursery as Daisy and Millie emerged with their kits. Foxpaw and Icepaw scampered into the middle of the clearing, excited rather than worried by the unexpected summons. Jayfeather caught the scent of Squirrelflight standing not far away.

“We’ve discovered more about Ashfur’s death,” Firestar began as soon as all the cats were assembled. “It wasn’t an accident. There was a gash in his throat, and that means he was deliberately killed.”

Yowls of dismay rose up from every part of the clearing.

Jayfeather’s belly churned when he heard the terrible truth put into words; he could feel Hollyleaf and Lionblaze stiffen, and picked up their sense of horror. Fear and distress swept over him from Squirrelf light.

“Did a fox do it?” Dustpelt demanded, raising his voice to be heard over the clamor.

“There was no fox scent.” The noise died down as Firestar spoke again. “And a fox would have eaten him.”

“Did he fall into the stream and cut his throat on a rock or a branch?” Squirrelflight asked; Jayfeather could tell how desperately she wanted that to be true.

“I doubt it,” Firestar told her; there was regret in his voice as if he, too, would have been comforted by that explanation.

“It was a clean wound, like a hunting warrior would make on their prey.”

“You’re saying that a cat killed him?” Cloudtail’s voice rang out disbelievingly.

“WindClan!” Thornclaw yowled. “They must have found him by the border and killed him. We should attack them now!”

Caterwauls of agreement followed his words; it was several moments before Firestar could make himself heard again.

“We mustn’t act too quickly,” he warned his Clan. “There was no WindClan scent on Ashfur’s body. In fact, there’s no evidence at all that he was killed by a cat from another Clan.”

Frozen silence filled the clearing. When Brackenfur broke it, his voice was shaking. “Are you saying that one of us killed Ashfur?”

Jayfeather’s heart thudded as he waited for Firestar’s reply. His littermates tensed beside him, and he could hear Squirrelflight trying not to gulp for air as if she were being smothered.

“Do any of you know a reason why anyone in ThunderClan might want Ashfur dead?” Firestar asked.

Beside him, Lionblaze and Hollyleaf quivered under the weight of what they knew. A little farther away, Squirrelf light held her breath altogether. Jayfeather knew they were all thinking of the scene on top of the cliff, when Squirrelflight’s terrible secret had been shared in storm and fire. That, and that alone, had to be the reason for Ashfur’s murder.

Now, for their own sakes and the sake of their Clan, they must all conspire to keep the truth hidden forever.

Special thanks to Cherith Baldry

ERIN HUNTER is inspired by a love of cats and a fascination with the ferocity of the natural world. As well as having great respect for nature in all its forms, Erin enjoys creating rich mythical explanations for animal behavior. She is also the author of the bestselling Seekers series.

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