Dark River

“Unless they’re so used to crossing the stream by mistake they don’t notice anymore.”

“There was no scent of WindClan in our territory,”

Sandstorm reminded him.

“But why is WindClan chasing squirrels?” Brambleclaw demanded. “They hunt rabbit.”

Hollypaw hissed into Lionpaw’s ear, “Exactly!”

“Not anymore.” Hazelpaw kneaded the ground.

“Breezepaw said that all the WindClan apprentices are being trained to hunt in woodland now.”

Brambleclaw stiffened. “We must re-mark the borders!” he meowed.

“We’ve already done that,” Dustpelt told him.

Sandstorm sat down. “Let’s not make a big thing about this. It was just two young cats—”

Dustpelt cut her off. “Hunting our prey!”

“We should be on our guard,” Brambleclaw advised. “It needs to be reported at the next Gathering.”

Firestar plucked at the ground. “Did any WindClan cats cross the border?”

“No,” Sandstorm replied.

“And there was definitely no scent of WindClan cats on our side of the stream?” Firestar pressed.

“None.”

Dustpelt snorted. “The rain might have washed it clean.”

“Or they’ve never crossed the border,” Firestar pointed out. “I can’t tell WindClan what to hunt on their own territory.” He turned away. “We’ll leave it for now and see what happens.”

Jaypaw narrowed his eyes. “Not again!” he muttered.

Lionpaw glanced at his brother. “What do you mean?”

“Firestar didn’t want to help RiverClan either,” Hollypaw explained. “Even though Jaypaw dreamed they were in trouble.”

“How are the Clans going to respect us if we never do anything?” Jaypaw complained.

Lionpaw frowned. “Does it matter? So long as none of them cross our borders.”

“But there must be balance,” Hollypaw protested. “If one Clan is too weak, we should help them; if one is too strong, we must react so we look strong as well.”

Jaypaw scowled. “I don’t know about balance,” he mewed.

“It just seems like Firestar’s wasted another chance to make ThunderClan look as if we can take care of ourselves.”

Flicking his tail, he padded away.

Hollypaw stared after him. “What do you think, Lionpaw?”

Lionpaw stiffened, suddenly picturing Heatherpaw chasing a squirrel toward the ThunderClan border. Was Hollypaw wondering the same? “What do I think about what?” he stalled.

“Should Firestar challenge WindClan at the next Gathering?” Hollypaw tipped her head to one side. Her clear green gaze was curious. Lionpaw shifted his paws, uncertain what to think about his leader’s decision. If Firestar ignored every problem, ThunderClan might look weak. But the thought of fighting WindClan made his stomach churn. How could he go on meeting Heatherpaw if their Clans were at war?

Suddenly, a breeze ruffled his fur and a voice murmured in his ear. Be honest, Lionpaw. Don’t be afraid of the things you desire. You know what you think.

Lionpaw’s belly twisted with guilt, but Tigerstar was right.

He knew exactly what he thought. A battle with WindClan was the last thing he wanted.

“We should leave WindClan alone,” he mewed.

,

Chapter 9

The full moon rippled on the surface of the lake while clouds bil-lowed on the horizon, gray against the blue-black sky.

Hollypaw shivered as she trekked around the shore to the Gathering. A cold wind was ruffling her pelt the wrong way, tugging at her downy fur. She ducked between Squirrelflight and Brackenfur to hide from the chill.

“It’ll be warmer on the island,” Squirrelflight promised, flattening her ears against the breeze.

Spiderleg and Mousepaw padded ahead, Dustpelt, Brambleclaw, and Squirrelflight beside them, while Thornclaw kept pace with Whitewing, brushing close against her as though shielding her from the wind. Firestar and Sandstorm headed the party while Lionpaw trailed behind with Ashfur and Leafpool. As they followed the edge of the lake, small waves slapped the shore and farther out, foamy crests glowed in the moonlight.

“Get off there!” Brambleclaw’s impatient command rose above the wind.

Hollypaw slipped out from her sheltered spot to see who he was yowling at.

Berrypaw was padding along a log lying in the shallows. A gust of wind whipped in from the lake, flattening Hollypaw’s whiskers against her face. Through narrowed eyes she watched as Berrypaw lost his balance and fell with a splash into the water. He fought his way to his paws and, shaking the water from his creamy pelt, raced back up the shore to join his Clanmates.

Brambleclaw cuffed him around the ears. “That was a mouse-brained thing to do!”

Berrypaw sneezed.

“And don’t think you’re missing any training if you’ve caught a cold!”

The sour smell of horseplace tainted the breeze as the cats neared the end of WindClan territory. The pebbly shore was narrow here, and the wind was blowing spray over it. Firestar led the party up onto the soft grass, skirting the fence.

Beyond it the horses were whinnying in their field. Hollypaw felt a shiver of unease as she gazed at the great dark shapes shifting beyond the fence. Perhaps they don’t like the weather either.

The squally wind promised rain, and plenty of it.

Thud!

A horse stamped its foot close to the fence. Whitewing yowled in surprise, leaping sideways in alarm. She careered into Mousepaw, sending him tumbling down onto the pebbly shore.

“Watch out!” he spat, scrambling to his paws.

Whitewing stared down at him, appalled. “I’m sorry.”

Why is everyone so jumpy and cross? Hollypaw gazed around at

her Clanmates. Few words had passed between them since they had left the camp. Their fur was spiked against the wind, their tails flicking. She felt uneasy herself. Ever since WindClan had been discovered hunting squirrels, there had been rumors of prey-stealing and revenge and worries about invasion. Hollypaw wasn’t convinced that WindClan’s strange behavior had to end in battle. The warrior code didn’t say what Clans could and couldn’t hunt. But she hated the tense atmosphere. And she was still worried about RiverClan.

There had been no news since Jaypaw’s dream at half-moon. She was desperate to speak to Willowpaw tonight, but her paws pricked with anxiety. What if things were so bad RiverClan didn’t come at all?

Lionpaw brushed against her as she followed Brambleclaw down the sandy bank, back onto the shore. “I wish I’d stayed in camp with Jaypaw,” he mewed.

She glanced at him. That didn’t sound like Lionpaw. He looked sleepy.

“Are you okay?” Didn’t he even want to see if Heatherpaw was going to be there?

“Just tired,” he mewed. “Ashfur’s been training me hard.”

Part of her was relieved by his lack of interest in the WindClan apprentice. He must have put his friendship with her behind him at last. But still, it was strange that he’d rather be stuck in camp than going to a Gathering.

Dustpelt halted in front of them, ears pricked. “WindClan!” he warned.

Hollypaw saw a swarm of dark shapes moving against the heather, heading down to the shore. “Do you think Firestar will mention the squirrel-hunting tonight?”

Lionpaw shrugged. “Who knows?”