Dark River

“Take care,” the she-cat called, landing lightly on the sand.

The tom brushed muzzles with her. “I will see you at dawn, I promise.” He turned to face the cliff and, for the first time, Jaypaw realized there was a crack in the rock immediately behind him.

The tom padded toward it. Jaypaw tried to step out of the way but the tom stepped through him as though he wasn’t there. As their spirits crossed, Jaypaw felt a shudder of foreboding. This cat had never entered the rock before. He was frightened. As his tail disappeared into the shadows, Jaypaw’s belly fluttered with excitement. He had to know where the cat was going. Quickly he slipped in after him.

Darkness swallowed him and for a moment Jaypaw wondered if he had woken up and was blind once more. But then he heard the soft pad of the tom’s paws ahead and Jaypaw sensed space opening into the hillside, a narrow passageway that led straight into the rock.

Fear spiked the air. Yet determination rippled out from the tom’s pelt too. The pounding of his heart seemed to make the air around them tremble and it grew louder as the tunnel opened into a cave. Pale light glowed overhead, streaming through a small gap in the roof. The arching walls were filled with more openings; the tunnels must spread like roots beneath the moor. Rushing water echoed around the rocks.

Jaypaw saw with surprise that there was a river cutting through the cave and flowing away into yet another tunnel, the water black as night.

“Fallen Leaves?”

Jaypaw jerked his head up. An old cat was calling to the tom from a high ledge near the moonlit gap. Fallen Leaves?

The tom jumped.

“I can feel your surprise,” the old cat croaked.

Jaypaw stared at the ancient cat. Its pelt was nothing but a

few tufts of fur, its eyes were white and bulging and stared sightlessly down.

I hope my eyes don’t look like that!

Fallen Leaves knew this cat would be here—Jaypaw could sense understanding and recognition between the two cats—

but the young tom had clearly not expected him to be so ugly.

The old cat ran a paw over something smooth and pale—

a bare branch clasped beneath his twisted claws.

Jaypaw stiffened. My stick! He strained to hear what the ancient cat was saying.

“ . . . I must stay close to our warrior ancestors; those who have taken their place beneath the earth.”

“And for that we thank you,” Fallen Leaves murmured.

“Don’t thank me,” the old cat growled. “It was a destiny I was bound to follow. Besides, you may not feel so grateful to me once your initiation has begun.” He ran a long claw over the lines scratched into the branch.

Fear pulsed from the young tom and swept Jaypaw like an icy wind. What was he so afraid of? Jaypaw looked back up at the ledge.

The old cat was shaking his head. “I cannot help you. To become a sharpclaw, you must guide yourself through these tunnels and find your own way out. I can only send you on your way with the blessing of our ancestors.”

A sharpclaw? Was that like a warrior? Jaypaw suddenly understood the young tom’s fear and his determination. It wasn’t just the darkness he faced, but his future.

“Is it raining?” the old cat asked suddenly.

Jaypaw saw Fallen Leaves stiffen.

“The sky is clear.” But Jaypaw sensed doubt flicker in the young cat’s mind.

The old cat ran his claw once more over the lines etched in the branch. “Then begin.”

Fallen Leaves leaped across the river and headed into the tunnel that opened beneath the old cat’s ledge. Jaypaw bounded after him, relieved that he could see. He wouldn’t want to cross the river blind. He shuddered as he imagined falling in and being sucked into the tunnel. Forcing away the thought, he followed Fallen Leaves into blackness once more.

This way leads up!

Jaypaw felt the realization cross Fallen Leaves’s mind as clearly as if he’d said it out loud. Jaypaw weaved after him through the darkness. The rocky tunnel was smooth beneath his paws. What had made it so slick? It wound upward, narrowing and then widening, turning first one way, then the other.

Jaypaw’s breath quickened. He could hardly believe he was walking with an ancient Clan cat, watching him cross the border from kithood to cathood. The surface of the moor couldn’t be far away now, and then Fallen Leaves would be safe. Safe and a sharpclaw, just like he wanted. A puddle of moonlight splashed the floor ahead of them; Fallen Leaves dashed through it, glancing up. Jaypaw followed and saw a narrow gap above them, too high to reach.

Suddenly, the tunnel narrowed and began to slope downward.

Downward? But they’d nearly reached the open moor!

Doubt bristled in Fallen Leaves’s pelt, but Jaypaw sensed him push it away. The tunnel twisted and Fallen Leaves’s pelt brushed the wall as he swerved to follow the snaking passageway. Jaypaw was impressed how this cat coped with the darkness, much better than any ThunderClan cats would; he must have been trained to find his way with scent and touch alone.

The slope continued downward. Fallen Leaves halted, and Jaypaw sensed uncertainty. The tunnel ahead split. Which way should he take? Fallen Leaves padded slowly into one, then backed up. Jaypaw felt the tom’s tail slide through his formless body. He jerked as it sent a jolt of doubt like lightning through his fur. He scrabbled backward. The young tom was losing his nerve.

Fallen Leaves darted forward, hurrying on once more. He had chosen the other tunnel, though it sloped downward.

Jaypaw could smell heather; Fallen Leaves was following the scent of fresh air. Hope flashed in Jaypaw’s chest. This must be the right way. He saw another pool of moonlight flood the tunnel in front of them. Could they get out here?

Fallen Leaves quickened his pace. Jaypaw felt hope flare in the young tom and then plummet as he reached the moonlight. Jaypaw looked up. The hole was wide but a long way out of reach. And in the shaft of moonlight, drops of rain flickered, spattering down into the tunnel.

Alarm blazed from Fallen Leaves’s pelt. It swept away his disappointment like a cold wind clearing mist. He was scared of the rain! He shot onward, moving faster now, bumping

into the sides of the tunnel more often in his desperation to find a way out. Jaypaw skidded as he followed Fallen Leaves around a sharp bend. The tunnel floor was growing slippery with raindrops. He flicked his tail, recovering his balance, frightened he might lose sight of Fallen Leaves.

The floor was growing wetter and wetter. Rain dripped faster through each hole they passed. A storm must be battering the moor above.

Suddenly, Fallen Leaves skidded to a halt. The tunnel had stopped at a smooth gray wall. He spun around and raced through Jaypaw.

Jaypaw’s fur stood on end.

Fallen Leaves was struggling to keep his terror under con-trol. He raced away, veering down an opening in the side of the tunnel, and Jaypaw’s claws skittered over the floor as he turned and pelted after him. The tunnel dipped sharply.

Jaypaw gasped as water lapped his paws. He followed Fallen Leaves as the tunnel began to slope upward, but still the water came, rushing down the passage, washing up against Jaypaw’s belly.

The tunnels were flooding!

Fallen Leaves swerved through a new opening. It was narrower than the previous tunnels, and the walls pressed in on either side. A hole let in a glimmer of light, but it was too far up to climb out.

Fallen Leaves skidded to a halt. Jaypaw could smell peaty water and hear it sloshing ahead. He peered through the darkness and saw Fallen Leaves recoiling, his forepaws

engulfed. The tunnel sloped down sharply in front of him and disappeared into water so deep it lapped the roof. Jaypaw turned around even before Fallen Leaves began to double back. He was leading now, scrambling back