Tigerstar was gone.
Ashfur narrowed his eyes. “You have been practicing, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Lionpaw mewed quickly.
“Show me.”
Lionpaw performed the move even better than he had with Tigerstar. He finished in a perfect crouch and glanced up at Ashfur. His mentor’s eyes were glowing. “You might make a warrior, after all.” He beckoned to Brambleclaw with his tail. “Come and watch this.”
Brambleclaw bounded to join them, Berrypaw on his heels.
“You be the badger, Berrypaw,” Ashfur ordered.
Berrypaw crouched, and Lionpaw reared up and leaped over him. He spun and flicked out a claw that parted Berrypaw’s fur, then finished by grazing Berrypaw’s hind leg with his teeth.
“A badger wouldn’t stand a chance!” Ashfur meowed proudly.
“He could have jumped higher,” Berrypaw mewed.
“It would have slowed him down,” Ashfur argued.
“Brambleclaw?” Lionpaw was itching to know what his father thought. “Was it okay?” A troubled look seemed to be clouding the ThunderClan deputy’s gaze.
Brambleclaw blinked. “It was great,” he meowed. He turned to Ashfur. “Did you teach him the move with the claw?”
“No, he came up with that by himself.”
“Did you?” Brambleclaw’s gaze seemed to burn into Lionpaw’s.
Lionpaw nodded guiltily. Had his father recognized Tigerstar’s move? “Did you like it?”
“It’s a nice touch.” Brambleclaw stroked his tail along Lionpaw’s flank. “Let’s get back to camp.”
The ThunderClan deputy padded out of the mossy clearing, his striped tail disappearing into the ferns. Berrypaw made a face at Lionpaw before following his mentor into the undergrowth.
“Are you coming?” Ashfur meowed.
“In a moment.” Lionpaw wanted to see if Tigerstar would come back. He wanted to know why the dark warrior was taking so much interest in him. Jaypaw was the one who spoke with their ancestors. As Ashfur slipped into the ferns, Lionpaw scanned the clearing. There was no sign of Tigerstar, not even a scent. The tabby warrior had vanished.
Lionpaw shook away the doubt pricking in his pelt. He should be grateful. Tigerstar seemed to care more about his training than his mentor did.
“Thanks, Tigerstar,” he whispered into the trees, and followed his Clanmates home toward camp.
Chapter 12
Graystripe’s warning was muffled by the bramble stem clasped in his jaws. Hollypaw hopped backward as the trail of brambles swished past her. Millie scurried by, trying to guide Graystripe’s prickly load safely across the clearing.
“I thought the den was finished,” Hollypaw mewed to Hazelpaw, flicking her tail at the addition to the warriors’
den. Its walls were thick and its roof pressed firmly into place.
“It’s not for the warriors’ den.” Hazelpaw shook her gray-and-white head. “They’re reinforcing the nursery.”
Hollypaw’s heart sank. Why was everyone so sure there was going to be a battle?
Ferncloud began shooing Foxkit and Icekit away from the nursery while Graystripe and Millie wrapped the brambles around the already densely tangled bush.
Hazelpaw nodded toward the fresh-kill pile where Mousepaw was choosing his midday snack. “Are you coming?”
Hollypaw shook her head. She wasn’t hungry. Anxiety had been churning in her belly since the Gathering. Besides, she
was hunting with Brackenfur later; she could eat then. She watched Hazelpaw pick a mouse from the pile and settle down beside Mousepaw, their fluffy gray pelts merging into one.
Suddenly, the honeysuckle quivered and Brightheart rushed from the elders’ den. The one-eyed cat was snapping instructions over her shoulder. “Quick, this way!”
Longtail shot out behind her, Mousefur limping after him.
“I don’t see why we have to practice,” Mousefur coughed.
“I know the drill.”
Brightheart halted at the bottom of the tumble of rocks.
“You need to know it by heart in case there’s an attack at night.”
Longtail paused beside Brightheart. “Dark or light, it makes no difference to me.” His sightless eyes sparkled teasingly.
Mousefur padded stiffly past him. “I’ve been in this camp long enough to know the way.” Hollypaw could hear her begin to wheeze as she clambered up the rocks toward the safety of Highledge. Longtail followed closely, nudging her forward whenever her paws slipped. Greencough had left Mousefur weaker than any cat would admit —Mousefur especially. It wasn’t fair to make her drill like this, especially for a battle that might never happen.
Thornclaw and Whitewing padded past Hollypaw.
Thornclaw glanced at her. “Shouldn’t you be helping reinforce the defenses?”
“I’m training with Brackenfur soon,” Hollypaw explained.
“Good.” Thornclaw halted beneath Highledge where
Stormfur and Brook were sharing tongues. “We need our apprentices sharp.”
Brook looked up. “Are you so sure the battle will happen?”
There was anxiety in her husky mountain mew.
“We can’t be too careful,” Thornclaw growled.
Stormfur sat up. “It doesn’t make sense,” he meowed.
“Why would WindClan attack us?”
“Yes!” Brook’s eyes brightened. “RiverClan’s the one they’re going to have trouble with.”
“What happens to RiverClan will affect us all,” Whitewing meowed.
Thornclaw flicked his tail. “If RiverClan is driven from their territory, where will they go?”
“They’ll need to settle somewhere,” Whitewing pointed out.
Stormfur sighed. “None of the borders will be safe.”
Hollypaw’s pelt pricked with anxiety. How could the four Clans survive if RiverClan lost their territory?
“Hollypaw?” Brackenfur was heading toward her.
“Are we going hunting?”
“Change of plan.” Brackenfur nodded toward Mousepaw and Hazelpaw. “We’ll be battle training with your denmates instead.”
He started to hurry away. “I’ll meet you at the training hollow.”
Hollypaw padded halfheartedly to the camp entrance. She didn’t want to train for a battle that might lead to the end of four Clans living around the lake. Stormfur’s words rang in
her ears:
She had to stop this!
She turned and almost crashed into Mousepaw. His green eyes were shining. “Did Brackenfur tell you?”
Hazelpaw clawed the ground behind him. “We’re battle training!”
Hollypaw stared at them. “Go ahead without me,” she whispered.
