Dark River

secret—he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d betrayed him as well. They hadn’t exactly been friendly the last time they met. He padded toward the dim light and stepped into the cave.

In the gloom, he could just make out Heatherpaw on the other side of the river.

Breezepaw was pacing the edge of the cave behind her, sniffing at each tunnel in turn. “I’ve lost their scent.”

“Lionpaw!” Heatherpaw sounded surprised.

Breezepaw spun, hissing, to face Lionpaw.

Heatherpaw’s gaze darted anxiously toward her Clanmate as she went on, “H-how did you know about this place?”

Lionpaw understood at once. She was pretending she had never met him here before. It was a sensible plan, but it felt wrong to act like strangers after they’d shared so much time here. “I found it a few days ago by accident,” he lied.

Hollypaw and Jaypaw were creeping out of the tunnel behind him. “I was chasing a rabbit and it led me down a hole and I ended up here.” He flashed a warning glance at Hollypaw.

Breezepaw’s pelt bristled. “These tunnels lead into ThunderClan territory as well?”

“I didn’t realize,” Heatherpaw mewed, wide-eyed. “I’ve only been as far as this cave before.”

“What are you three doing here?” Breezepaw demanded.

Hollypaw padded in front of Lionpaw, lifting her chin.

“When we heard that the kits were missing, Lionpaw guessed they might be here.”

“How did you know there was another entrance in WindClan territory?” Breezepaw flexed his claws.

“It was just a guess.” Lionpaw shrugged. “There are so many tunnels. They might lead to ShadowClan territory as far as I know.”

Breezepaw stared at him. The damp, stuffy air was thick with mistrust. “Is there any scent of the kits in your tunnel?”

“No,” Hollypaw replied, her voice taut.

“We followed their trail here, but it’s disappeared,”

Heatherpaw explained.

Jaypaw had cautiously crept forward and was sniffing at the river. Its usually sleek surface was rippling as though blown by the wind, and dark water lapped over the edges, forming pools in the dimpled rock on either side. “Is the water always this high?” he asked.

“Only after it’s been raining,” Heatherpaw answered.

“Does it get higher?”

Heatherpaw tipped her head on one side, puzzled. “I don’t think so.”

Lionpaw felt hot with embarrassment. Why did Jaypaw keep fussing about the rain? He wanted to find the kits and get out of here.

Breezepaw paced around his Clanmate. “These intruders might as well go home,” he mewed. “We’re looking for the kits.

There’s no need for them to help.” He glared at Lionpaw.

“Why are you bothered about WindClan kits anyway?”

Hollypaw flicked her tail. “There’s going to be a battle over them, or haven’t you heard?”

“Can we stop chatting and get on with the search?”

Heatherpaw snapped.

Breezepaw shot her an angry look. “What about them?”

“We may as well let them come with us,” Heatherpaw mewed. “How are we going to carry three kits by ourselves?”

Before he could answer, she headed for the tunnel nearest her. “We have to find those kits before any of our Clanmates gets hurt.”

“I agree!” Hollypaw leaped the wide river and glanced back at Jaypaw. “The water is about two foxtails wide,” she told him.

Jaypaw crouched, preparing to jump. Lionpaw could see his paws trembling. Let him make it! He tensed, ready to dive into the rushing river if he had to, but Jaypaw sprang high over the river, clearing it with a tail-length to spare.

As Lionpaw jumped after him, Heatherpaw ducked out of the tunnel she had been sniffing. “They haven’t been this way.”

Lionpaw crept into another dark opening, tasting the air.

No scent.

“This way!” Jaypaw was crouching in front of a narrow entrance, his whiskers twitching.

Hollypaw pushed past him and peered at the ground.

“He’s right! There’s a paw print.”

Lionpaw squeezed past her to look. Sure enough, there on the silty ground was a tiny fresh print. “They went this way.”

He glanced up and met Heatherpaw’s gaze. Fear glittered in her hazy blue eyes.

“Oh, Lionpaw,” she whispered. “What have we done?”

,

Chapter 19

“I’ll go first.”

Jaypaw hardly realized he had said the words out loud until he heard Breezepaw snort scornfully.

“You’re blind!”

“And you can see perfectly in the dark, I suppose!” Hollypaw snapped.

Jaypaw sensed Breezepaw bristle, but the WindClan cat didn’t argue. He was glad, because he was on the verge of turning tail and fleeing back along the tunnel to the forest, where rain pattered on leaves and earth and didn’t collect in cold stone tunnels to sweep away everything inside them. . . .

All he could think of ever since he set foot in the first tunnel was racing for his life, terrified, with Fallen Leaves. Images filled his mind: the dark tunnel, the roaring of the water, the shock as the wave hit him and swept him up like a leaf caught in a storm, gasping for air and finding only water to breathe.

Don’t think about it! At least this time there would be no glimmers of light to distract him; instead he could focus on his instincts.

Lionpaw stepped out of the way to let Jaypaw pass. As

Jaypaw brushed past him, he felt relief flooding from his brother’s pelt. He thinks I’ll do better in the dark than he will. I hope he’s right. Cold air blasted over him, making his whiskers tremble. But the breeze carried something else, whispers he felt rather than heard, flooding from deep inside the tunnel like the pulsing of blood in his veins. He padded into the tunnel, feeling the darkness swallow him up. This wasn’t darkness he was used to. Blind in the forest, he could feel the warmth of the sun on his pelt, smell the fresh tangs that flavored the air, hear the wind that rustled the leaves. This darkness was suffocating, musty, and cold, pressing against his fur and filling his nose and mouth. Nothing but blackness, thick as fur, soft as water, drawing him in.

The rock beneath his paws was covered in fine silt, the walls so narrow they grazed his pelt as he crept slowly forward.

“Can’t you go any faster?” Breezepaw’s mew was as jagged as the walls.

“Shh!” He tried to block out the fear pulsing from the other cats, and padded on, feeling the path slope downward, the tunnel widen, cold air jab his pelt as they passed under a slit in the roof. Was this really the right way? The draft flowing through the tunnel like water carried no kit scent, only forest air seeping through fissures in the roof.

Suddenly, a pelt brushed his flank.

Jaypaw bristled. “I’m leading, Breezepaw!” He barged the cat away.