Eclipse

Chapter 7

Lionpaw tugged another sprig of moss from his pelt. Hauling the stuff in and out of dens had left his fur itching. His muscles were knotted from the tedious work. Sighing, he watched the sun sliding behind the trees. The sunset patrol had left without him.

What a boring day! Frustrated, he headed to the apprentices’ den. There was nothing left to do but sleep, though he longed to run through the forest, stretch his legs, and feel the wind in his fur.

He ducked under a branch of the low-spreading yew. Inside, Foxpaw and Icepaw were chattering like sparrows.

“Whitewing taught me how to do a roll,” Icepaw boasted.

“I can fight on my hind paws,” Foxpaw countered. “Do you want to watch me?”

Lionpaw realized the young apprentice was talking to him.

Wearily, he nodded and watched Foxpaw rear up on wobbly back legs and stagger around his nest before toppling onto the moss.

“I was better this afternoon!” Foxpaw scrambled to his paws, looking flustered.

“I’m sure you were,” Lionpaw mewed. He was jealous of Foxpaw’s excitement. Since he’d returned from the mountains it seemed as though life were entirely made up of dull chores. It was all very well feeding the Clan and clearing out its dens, but when would he have a chance to use the power he felt pulsing through his paws?

He curled into his nest.

“Look!” Foxpaw called. “I’m doing it properly this time!”

Lionpaw didn’t bother lifting his head.

“Show him your new hunting crouch,” Icepaw encouraged.

Moss rustled, and Lionpaw jerked as Foxpaw pounced on him, grappling with his tail as though it were a snake. Crossly, Lionpaw heaved the apprentice out of his nest with a shove of his hind paws.

“Hey!” mewed Icepaw, protective of her littermate.

“Keep to your own nest and let me sleep!” Lionpaw growled.

“You’re no fun anymore!” Foxpaw sulked.

The yew rustled as Hollypaw padded into the den.

“Lionpaw’s been pushing Foxpaw around!” Icepaw appealed to Hollypaw.

“I can look after myself,” Foxpaw objected.

“I think Lionpaw’s tired,” Hollypaw soothed. “I’m sure he’ll want to play in the morning.”

She curled in beside Lionpaw, and he felt the gentle lap of her tongue on his pelt. Gratefully he let her wash the last scraps of moss from his fur, calmed by the rhythmic licking.

“Cheer up,” she mewed. “Brackenfur just told me we’re both going out on patrol in the morning.”

Lionpaw pricked his ears.

“Firestar’s sending extra patrols to the WindClan border to check for invaders,” she explained.

At last! Lionpaw felt a dark thrill at the thought of confronting the prey-thieves.

“We’d better get some sleep,” Hollypaw advised. “We have to be at the border by dawn.”

Lionpaw closed his eyes, relieved that at last he could be useful to his Clan in the only way that made sense.

“Lionpaw!” Tigerstar’s deep yowl roused him. He blinked open his eyes to find himself lying on bare ground, surrounded by close, whispering pine trees.

He was dreaming.

Scanning the gloomy forest, he spotted his nighttime mentor padding from the trees. Hawkfrost was already sitting in the needle-strewn hollow, his amber eyes glowing in the half-light.

“I hope you’re ready,” Tigerstar warned. “I’m going to teach you how to knock any warrior off his paws, no matter how big.” He beckoned Hawkfrost forward with a flick of his striped tail.

Lionpaw stretched his claws. “What do I do?”

“You don’t have the weight yet to overpower every cat,” Firestar told him. “That will come in time. Until it does, use your size to your advantage. You’ll have to be fast. Dart underneath your enemy’s belly, slashing the back of their forepaws as you go. They’ll twist, expecting you on one side, but you’ll be at the other to catch them off balance.”

“How do I get to the other side before they slash me?”

Lionpaw wondered.

“I told you. Be fast!” Tigerstar padded around Hawkfrost.

“Try it on him.”

Lionpaw dropped into a crouch as Tigerstar stepped out of the way. He focused on the gap beneath Hawkfrost’s white-furred belly, letting energy build in his muscles. Then he shot forward. Darting underneath the long-legged warrior, he drew a paw, claws sheathed, across his forepaws, as Tigerstar had instructed. He felt Hawkfrost twist above him. The warrior was rearing, ready to crash down on him as soon as he emerged. But Lionpaw backed sharply, pulling out the way he had come, like a rabbit backing out of its hole. He hooked his claws into Hawkfrost’s fur, careful not to prick the skin, and dragged Hawkfrost, now unbalanced, down onto the ground.

“Excellent,” Tigerstar purred.

Hawkfrost scrambled to his paws, shaking pine needles from his fur.

Lionpaw lifted his chin and gazed proudly at Tigerstar.

“Not bad, huh?”

Paws slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground.

Lionpaw struggled, gasping in surprise, but Hawkfrost held him down, his massive paws pressing hard into Lionpaw’s flank.

“Never assume you’ve won until your enemy is dead!”

Tigerstar called.

Hawkfrost leaned in close. “Found out any more about that prophecy?” he sneered.

“I don’t think about it anymore,” Lionpaw lied.

Hawkfrost gave him a pitying look. “Haven’t StarClan made you leader of the forest yet?”

Pain seared his side. Hawkfrost’s claws tore his flesh, then let go.

Jumping to his paws, Lionpaw felt blood welling in his fur.

Anger swelled in his belly. Why didn’t they take the prophecy seriously? It could be his greatest weapon. A shiver of uncertainty ran down his spine. Unless they were right and it was nothing more than Firestar’s dream.

“Wake up!”

Lionpaw felt a muzzle nudging his flank where Hawkfrost had clawed it. He winced in pain and struggled to his paws.

Hollypaw was sitting beside him. “The patrol will be leaving soon.”

The den glowed faintly in predawn light. Light rain pattered on its branches.

Hollypaw licked her nose. “Blood?” She licked it again, glancing anxiously at Lionpaw’s flank where she had nuzzled him.

Shocked, Lionpaw licked the wound Hawkfrost had left.

He hadn’t realized the line between dream and reality was quite so blurred.

“There must be a thorn in your nest,” Hollypaw decided.

She pushed Lionpaw out of the way and began picking through the moss.

Paws began to pace the clearing outside.

“We’ll have to find it later,” Lionpaw mewed. “It sounds like the patrol’s getting ready to leave.”

Hollypaw looked up, eyes shining in the half-light.

“Let’s go!”

Lionpaw was already heading out of the den.

Ashfur and Brackenfur waited in the clearing, their fur slicked flat by the rain.

“You’re awake.” Ashfur shook drops from his whiskers.

“We can leave.”

“Wait.” Firestar bounded down from Highledge. “Remember,” he warned, “you’re only going to look for signs of prey-stealing. I don’t want you fighting any trespassers. If you find intruders, come back and report it.” His eyes glittered with worry. “This is more serious than a simple border skirmish. If there is to be a battle, it must be decisive.” He looked from one cat to another. “Understand?”

Lionpaw nodded along with his Clanmates.

“Good.” Firestar turned and began to climb the rocks back to Highledge.

Brackenfur weaved between Lionpaw and Hollypaw. “Are you two ready?”

Ashfur was already darting through the tunnel. Lionpaw raced after him, his paws slapping the rain-muddied ground.

The tunnel sheltered him briefly; then he was out in the dripping forest. Hollypaw and Brackenfur pounded behind; he could hear their paws skidding on the slippery leaves. He unsheathed his claws, gouging the earth as he ran. Energy surged through him.

Ashfur, streaking through the forest ahead, seemed small among the trees. Lionpaw stretched out, gaining on him. I could reach the border in one leap if I wanted. Power pulsed in his blood. And if we meet WindClan, I could beat every one of them. The pain from the gash in his f lank eased, as though it were healing already. Rain washed the blood from his pelt. Hawkfrost had better watch out next time.

In front of him, Ashfur swerved. He was following the track. But Lionpaw knew a better way. He ran straight on, crashing through a wall of fern. As he exploded from the undergrowth, Ashfur stared in surprise. Lionpaw was ahead now, veering back onto the track and lengthening his stride.

“Get back!” Ashfur ordered. “I’m leading this patrol.”

Lionpaw slowed and let Ashfur shoulder past him. The warrior’s blue eyes flashed with anger. Lionpaw fell in behind, a flash of satisfaction warming his pelt. He’d let Ashfur lead—for now. One day he’d be at the head of every patrol.

Ahead, the border stream glimmered between the trees.

Ashfur quickened his pace, leaping a patch of ground elder before pulling up at the water’s edge. Lionpaw slid to a halt behind him, raindrops dripping from his pelt.

“What in StarClan did you think you were doing?” Ashfur demanded. “You could have run into an ambush! We’d no idea what was waiting for us.”

Hollypaw and Brackenfur caught up.

“I was just taking a shortcut,” Lionpaw defended himself.

“Well, next time, just stay back!”

“Problem?” Brackenfur asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Ashfur snapped.

Hollypaw threw her brother a warning glance.

Lionpaw shrugged. I haven’t given our secret away.

Brackenfur was sniffing the air. “The rain has gotten rid of any scents.”

“There may be other signs,” Ashfur guessed. “Let’s split up and search.”

“Okay.” Brackenfur nodded. “But stay within earshot. We don’t know what we might find.”

While the others padded away, sniffing every leaf and twig, Lionpaw peered downstream. Bushes crowded the bank. Was it possible a WindClan cat had sheltered there from the rain?

If so, the scent might not have been washed away yet.

He padded beneath a dripping red currant bush. The soil was drier inside. He sniffed around the stem. No scent. As he pushed his way out through the soft leaves, holly leaves jabbed his nose. A dense bush spread up the bank, its glossy leaves gleaming with raindrops. Narrowing his eyes against its prickles, he lay flat and wriggled inside. Mud smeared his belly as he squirmed around the branches. Sharp leaves scraped his back.

“What are you doing?” Hollypaw hissed to him from outside. “Hiding from the rain?”

“Shh!” Lionpaw could smell the faintest hint of WindClan scent. He rummaged carefully through the barbed leaves clumped around the roots.

“I’ve found something!” he mewed, wriggling out backward with his pelt ruffled and muddy. “Look!” He dragged out the remains of a blackbird.

“What is it?” Ashfur came hurrying to see, Brackenfur on his heels. He curled his lip as he stared at the carcass. The tangle of bloody bones and feathers was still warm. The scent of WindClan mixed with the scent of fresh-kill: This had been taken by a WindClan warrior and eaten where it was caught, in the shelter of the holly bush.

“We must have just missed them,” Brackenfur growled.

Hollypaw was gazing in silent dismay at the blackbird.

Lionpaw nudged her. “Pretty good find, huh?”

“They’re breaking the warrior code!” She gasped. “They should be taking their fresh-kill back for their elders and queens. Not stuffing their faces as soon as they’ve caught it.”

Lionpaw snorted. “I don’t think cats who steal care much about the warrior code.”

“They must be pretty desperate,” Brackenfur commented.

Ashfur pawed the remains toward Brackenfur. “Take this back and show Firestar. I’ll take Hollypaw and Lionpaw to check upstream.”

“Is there any point?” Brackenfur flicked his tail. The bank behind them was crowded with bushes, most of them bramble. “WindClan aren’t used to fighting their way through that kind of stuff.”

Lionpaw wasn’t ready to go back to camp yet. “They managed to get under that holly bush.” He could still feel the scratches along his spine.

Ashfur nodded. “It’s worth checking.”

“Don’t be too long.” Brackenfur picked up the carcass in his teeth and disappeared into the trees.

Lionpaw gazed along the bank, squinting his eyes against the rain. It was a jungle of brambles from bottom to top, but he was ready to search every tail-length of it. A WindClan warrior might be hiding there. He headed toward a tiny opening in the prickly thicket, tensing his shoulders, ready to batter his way through.

“Wait!” Hollypaw tugged on his tail. “You’ll get torn to shreds if you try squeezing along that mouse path! Let me go.

I’m smaller. I can get through.”

“I won’t get hurt,” Lionpaw assured her. “It’s only thorns.”

Don’t forget the battle in the mountains, he wanted to say. He stopped himself in time, suddenly conscious of Ashfur hovering behind them.

“Come on, Lionpaw,” Ashfur meowed. “Let her pass.”

Frustrated, Lionpaw stepped back and allowed Hollypaw to push her way carefully into the brambles.

“We’ll go this way.” Ashfur led him around the edge of the thicket and started sniffing the rain-slicked roots of a beech clinging to the bank.

“I’ll check closer to the water.” Lionpaw scrambled down the slippery bank. The stream spat and gurgled, splashing his paws as he picked his way along the edge. He sniffed every tuft of grass and pushed back the leaves of each plant to check that nothing was concealed underneath.

A clump of ferns blocked his path. He opened his jaws, letting its scent lick the roof of his mouth. As he reached a paw in among the dripping fronds, a mew came from above him.

“Nothing in the brambles!” Hollypaw’s head was peeping over the top of the bank. Her eyes were wide, her fur fluffed up despite the rain.

“Are you sure?” Lionpaw narrowed his eyes. She seemed pretty excited for a cat who had found nothing.

“Just brambles,” Hollypaw insisted. “Ashfur says we’re to go back to camp.”

Still suspicious, Lionpaw scrabbled up the bank.

Ashfur was waiting there. “WindClan have obviously gone home,” the gray warrior meowed. “We’re wasting our time.”

“Yeah,” Hollypaw agreed quickly. “Let’s go.”

Lionpaw glanced sideways at her. What’s she up to?

But Ashfur was already trotting away through the trees.

Hollypaw chased after him. She found something. But why’s she hiding it? The thought nagged as Lionpaw pounded after his Clanmates.

“Wait!” he called to Ashfur, a few tail-lengths ahead.

Ashfur halted and turned.

Hollypaw spun around, her pelt bristling. “What is it?”

“I heard something on the border,” Lionpaw lied. “I want to go back and check.”

Ashfur tipped his head to one side. “What did you hear?”

“I can’t be sure,” Lionpaw mewed. “Probably nothing, but I’d like to be certain.”

“I’ll go with you,” Hollypaw offered, tail tip twitching.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Lionpaw promised.

Hollypaw looked skeptical.

Lionpaw didn’t meet her gaze. “I’ll probably have caught up with you by the time you reach camp.”

“Go on, then,” Ashfur meowed. “But if you see anything suspicious, come and report it at once. No silly heroics. This is too serious.”

“Okay,” Lionpaw promised. He turned tail and raced back to the thicket of brambles. Hollypaw had made the tiny opening larger. It was easy for him to wriggle inside, but the thorns still tugged his pelt as he followed the twisting path his littermate had made through the bush. At least it was dry inside.

A smell hit his nostrils. Fox! Was that what Hollypaw was so worried about? Why didn’t she tell Ashfur? He pushed on more cautiously through the thicket, remembering the time he had sneaked out of camp with Hollypaw and Jaypaw. They had been only kits, but they had been determined to find the fox threatening their Clan. They had tracked it all the way to its den. He shivered at the memory. How did they possibly believe they could have chased it away when they were so small? In the end, it had chased them.

As the scent grew stronger now, he realized that it was stale. No fox had been here for a while. Suddenly the brambles thinned out and the ground opened into a smooth-edged hole. Hollypaw had found a fox’s den! It hadn’t been used in a while, by the smell of it.

Creeping forward, Lionpaw peered into the darkness. Hollypaw’s scent mixed with that of the fox. She had gone inside!

Impressed by her courage, he crept into the gloom, his heart quickening. The tunnel was narrow, and cold earth brushed his shoulders. It snaked steeply downward almost at once, and Lionpaw’s whiskers twitched as he felt his way through the darkness. The soil beneath his paws was damp and clung to his pads. The tunnel must open out soon, he guessed. The fox’s lair could be only a few steps ahead. The hole plunged onward, and Lionpaw began to wonder if he was wasting his time. But something had spooked Hollypaw, and he had to find out what. He padded on, unnerved by the silence. What could live this far underground?

Suddenly a breeze tickled his nose. There was an opening ahead. He followed the tunnel around a bend, his paws sliding on polished rock. Cold, fresh air spilled over him, stirring his whiskers. The tunnel opened around him, and Lionpaw realized, with a shiver of surprise, that this wasn’t merely a fox den.

Light filtered behind him through the tunnel, enough to see that the walls were stone too, and a jagged roof arched high over his head. The air smelled of rock and water, a scent never found in the forest but achingly familiar all the same. This must lead to the dark river! Memories of Heatherpaw and the flood washed over Lionpaw’s pelt. The fur bristled along his spine. Hollypaw had found another way in!

Why hadn’t she told him? Lionpaw’s claws scraped furrows in the stone beneath his paws. He knew why. Oh, yes, it was as plain as Icepaw’s fur at dusk.

She’s scared I’ll start seeing Heatherpaw again! Anger burned in his belly. I’m a loyal ThunderClan warrior! Won’t she ever trust me?