The Sight

Hollypaw sniffed at the thorns in Jaypaw’s tail and plucked at one with her teeth.

“I can do that myself,” Jaypaw hissed, flicking his tail away from her.

“Do you want some herbs?” she offered. “I know which ones will soothe the pain and stop infection.” There was pride in her mew.

“No need.” Jaypaw took a bite of mouse, but it felt dry and tasteless. He nudged the mouse over to Lionpaw with his muzzle. “Here, you finish it. I’m not hungry.”

“Wait . . .” Lionpaw began. But Jaypaw padded gloomily away.

He headed toward the apprentices’ den, which was underneath a bushy yew tree growing close to the wall of the hollow. It took him a moment to figure out where the entrance was, and when he had, he nosed his way in cautiously. The unfamiliar scents confused him—moss rich with the smell of different apprentices, the strong tang of yew sap. He had no idea what lay around him or where he should lie down.

“Hey, Jaypaw.” Hazelpaw’s mew came from the far side of the den. “There’s no one here but me. Just head toward my voice. There’s some clean moss next to my nest where you can sleep.”

Jaypaw was too tired and miserable to make a fuss about

being helped. Gratefully, he padded toward Hazelpaw’s nest, and as he did, the scents around him began to fall into place, like a flight of birds settling one by one into a tree. He smelled Poppypaw’s scent, so stale that she had clearly not been in here since sunrise; Berrypaw’s nest had been slept in more recently, and Honeypaw’s smelled warm as though she’d just left it. Jaypaw weaved cautiously among the little patches of scent until he found the clean moss beside Hazelpaw.

“Thanks,” he murmured, settling down.

“No problem,” she answered sleepily.

He was glad she sounded too tired to talk. Right now, all he wanted to do was to tuck his nose under his paw and sleep.

,

Chapter 9

Silverpelt glittered overhead as Jaypaw followed the narrow valley upward. He glanced up at the jagged rocks that lined his path, sharp as fox teeth. Ahead, a stream danced down the mountainside, sparkling in the moonlight. A cold breeze whisked down from the gray peaks and set his fur rippling like water.

It felt as though he had been following this stony path for days, and still he had to follow the stream upward, into the mountains.

A paw jabbed his side, catching him painfully between the ribs. Jaypaw flinched. He blinked open his eyes and saw only darkness.

He had been dreaming.

The paw jabbed him again.

“Watch out!” he complained.

“Sorry!” Lionpaw apologized.

“Why are you so fidgety this morning?” Jaypaw lifted his muzzle. He could smell dew on the leaves and guessed that it was hardly dawn. Only Lionpaw and Berrypaw were stirring.

“We’re going on border patrol with Ashfur and Brambleclaw,” Lionpaw explained excitedly.

“Big deal,” Jaypaw muttered. “Brambleclaw’s only taking you because nothing happens on the borders these days.”

“What about ShadowClan and WindClan leaving extra scent markers?”

“Are you scared of smells?” Jaypaw snapped back.

Lionpaw flinched away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Jaypaw murmured. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Yeah,” Lionpaw agreed quietly. “I’ll see you later.” Without another word he padded out of the den, followed by Berrypaw.

Jaypaw wriggled deeper into his nest, cold now Lionpaw had gone. He tried to go back to his dream but sleep would not come again.

The fresh scent of dawn was filtering slowly into the den when Mousepaw and Hazelpaw began to yawn and stretch.

Hazelpaw nudged Jaypaw. “Stop pretending to be asleep,”

she mewed.

Jaypaw lifted his head reluctantly.

“Has Berrypaw gone already?” she asked him.

“Yes.”

“Oh, well.” Hazelpaw sounded disappointed at missing her brother. “I’ll see him at battle training later.”

“Hazelpaw!” Dustpelt’s deep growl sounded through the den entrance. “The fresh-kill pile is empty. Bring Mousepaw.

We’re going hunting.”

Hazelpaw’s tail fluffed up. “Great,” she mewed. “I thought I was going to have to spend the morning cleaning out the elders’ den!”

Why would they ask you to do that when they’ve got me? Jaypaw thought as she disappeared from the den with Mousepaw.

Daisy’s kits have more important duties than me, and they’re not even Clanborn!

“Hi, Jaypaw!” Poppypaw called. “How was your first night in the apprentices’ den?”

“Fine,” Jaypaw mewed halfheartedly.

Cinderpaw was stirring too. “What are you doing today?”

she asked.

“Well, I’m not patrolling and I’m not hunting,” Jaypaw informed her.

“Perhaps Brightheart has planned battle training for you,”

Poppypaw suggested.

“I hope so!” Cinderpaw put in. “We’re training in the clearing this morning. It’d be great if you could come too.”

Jaypaw did not answer.

“I hope we see you there,” Poppypaw called over her shoulder as she headed out of the den.

And rabbits might fly, Jaypaw muttered to himself.

Only Honeypaw remained in the den, and she was fast asleep. Jaypaw wasn’t going to wait for her to wake up and start chirping like a fledgling about what duties she was looking forward to. Instead he crept from his nest and ducked out of the den.

The frosty ground beneath his paws told him that the skies were clear today. The camp was already busy, even though the sun had not yet begun to warm the hollow. Firestar stood with Brackenfur and Spiderleg, organizing hunting parties

and border patrols. Leafpool was heading for the nursery, and Squirrelflight was sharing tongues with Stormfur and Brook.

There was no sign of Brightheart. She had probably forgotten Jaypaw and gone on the dawn patrol without him.

Resentment rose like bile in his throat. I’ll show her I’m not useless!

He hurried across the clearing to the tunnel leading to where the cats made dirt. As he emerged, he scented Sandstorm heading into the camp. There was no time to go back. Instead he dived forward and plunged behind a clump of bracken. Sandstorm’s pawsteps halted, and Jaypaw could hear her sniffing the air. He held his breath,