Eclipse

Chapter 9

Jaypaw blinked open his eyes. He could hear Leafpool stretching in her nest. It must be dawn. The medicine cat sat up and yawned.

Jaypaw waited for her to leave the den to make dirt, as she always did first thing.

The moss from his nest was tickling his nose. He sneezed, then sniffed the air. It was dry and warm and promised sun.

It would be a good day to take Cinderpaw to the lake. Padding from his nest, he tried to ignore the doubt rumbling in his belly. Even if teaching Cinderpaw to swim didn’t heal her leg, it would prove to Leafpool that he hadn’t given up on their patient.

“Jaypaw?” Cinderpaw was calling him. “Leafpool’s gone out.” She sounded nervous. “But she’ll probably be back in a moment. Perhaps we should leave this swimming idea for another time.”

“If we hurry, we can be gone by the time she gets back.” He was nervous too, but he refused to let it stop either of them.

“We have to try this.”

Cinderpaw gave a resigned sigh, and her nest rustled as she struggled to her paws. “Ow!”

“Your leg’s just stiff,” Jaypaw reassured her.

“Could I have a couple of poppy seeds, just to ease the pain?” Cinderpaw begged.

“No.” Jaypaw was firm. “They’ll make you sleepy, and you’ll need all your wits about you if you’re going to learn to swim.”

A pause. Then determination hardened Cinderpaw’s mew.

“Okay.”

Jaypaw slid beside her, pressing his shoulder to hers so that she could lean on him. She was heavy, and he struggled to help her out of the den.

Once outside the bramble-covered entrance he checked the clearing, tasting the air and pricking his ears for any sign of life. Squirrelflight was padding sleepily from the thorn tunnel. She must have been on guard overnight. “Don’t move,” Jaypaw warned Cinderpaw. The pair stood still as Squirrelflight padded into the warriors’ den.

The entrance would be unguarded for a few moments while Squirrelflight woke her replacement. The dawn patrol was due back, and Leafpool was sure to return from dirtplace before long.

“Come on.” He nudged Cinderpaw forward, and they made awkward progress across the clearing. Jaypaw tensed every time Cinderpaw stumbled and growled with pain. He willed her on, praying her courage would hold and hoping no one could hear her. As they reached the thorn barrier, it rustled.

Jaypaw sniffed the air and froze. “Leafpool.” The medicine cat was returning through the dirtplace tunnel at the far end of the barrier.

Quickly, he pressed Cinderpaw against the thorny hedge and flicked his tail across her mouth to silence her gasp. Leafpool’s paws scuffed across the clearing as she headed back to her den. The moment the bramble-covered entrance swished shut, Jaypaw steered Cinderpaw into the thorn tunnel and nudged her onward. “You’re doing really well,” he encouraged.

“I’m not getting much choice,” she grumbled.

She was panting with effort by the time they had cleared the camp. Once they reached the trees, Jaypaw relaxed a little.

They would be out of sight of the camp guard and any patrol here.

“Rest a moment,” he mewed.

Cinderpaw sat down, relieved. “Where are you going?”

“Just scouting for the best route.” He felt his way carefully forward, testing the ground for slippery leaves, checking that no fallen branches blocked the path. Cinderpaw was in a lot of pain, and he wanted to make the journey as easy as possible for her.

When he returned, she had flopped onto her side, but her breathing had eased. Jaypaw sniffed her leg, touching his nose to her fur. It didn’t feel too hot, and the swelling hadn’t grown any worse.

“Your leg’s doing great,” he mewed.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Cinderpaw moaned.

“Imagine we’re going to save a drowning kit,” Jaypaw suggested.

Cinderpaw lifted her head.

“You wouldn’t let a sore leg stop you from getting there.”

She heaved herself to her paws. “No way!”

That’s more like the old Cinderpaw! “Come on, then.” Jaypaw pressed in beside her once more, taking her weight the best he could.

Her whiskers twitched, tickling his cheek. “A blind cat leading the way!”

“I bet you never thought it was possible.” Jaypaw was glad to hear her joking.

The smooth grass beyond the trees was slippery, and they slid and stumbled down the slope toward the lake.

“Are you sure you’re not trying to make me worse?” Cinderpaw mewed through gritted teeth as they fell for the third time.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise.” Jaypaw hoped it was true. Was swimming really the answer? StarClan, let me be right!

A cool breeze lifted their fur as he finally helped Cinderpaw onto the beach. The shingle crunched under their paws.

“The lake’s beautiful today,” Cinderpaw breathed. “With the wind ruffling the water, it looks like soft gray fur.”

Jaypaw padded cautiously forward, expecting to find himself wading at any moment. But the water level had fallen since yesterday. He remembered with a twinge how close he’d come to losing his stick, then hopped backward as the waves lapped unexpectedly at his paws.

“Is it cold?” Cinderpaw mewed anxiously.

“Not too bad.” Jaypaw’s fur along his spine rippled. He’d have to wade in with her. How else could he persuade her there was nothing to worry about? Tensing against the tug of the lake, he padded a tail-length out, trying not to show how much he hated the feel of the water soaking his leg fur. “Come on!”

Water splashed as Cinderpaw limped out after him. “Now what?” she asked, pausing beside him.

“Just keep walking until you can’t feel the stones under your paws anymore.”

Cinderpaw’s fur bristled. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is.” Jaypaw remembered struggling to shore after he was washed out of the tunnels, the terrifying sensation of water dragging him down, how he’d fought to stay afloat. “You’ll know what to do,” he promised Cinderpaw. After all, he’d managed to stay afloat, hadn’t he?

Cinderpaw pressed against him, fear pulsing beneath her pelt. “I can’t.”

Jaypaw tried to picture the lake stretching before her, but his mind was swept into a vision of thick woodland. Vibrant green ferns circled a gray she-cat. Cinderpelt sat inside the medicine cat’s den at the old camp. The night sky arced over her head, flecked with stars. “I’ll do anything to be a warrior,” she whispered, gazing up at the sparkling heavens.

Jaypaw blinked away the vision. “Do you want to be a warrior?” he asked Cinderpaw.

Cinderpaw didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Jaypaw didn’t need to say another word. Cinderpaw was wading deeper into the lake. She gasped as the fur lapped her belly. “You told me it wasn’t cold!” she squeaked.

“You’ll get used to it!”

“The water’s pulling at my fur!” Cinderpaw called.

“You won’t have to wash for days!” Jaypaw joked. He hoped she didn’t hear the tremble in his mew.

“It’s over my back.”

“Keep going, but slowly.”

“It’s soaking through my pelt. I feel heavy as a stone!”

Jaypaw heard splashing. Had he sent her to drown?

“I can’t touch the bottom! Help!”

He rushed forward through the waves till the water soaked his chest. “Cinderpaw!” Blood pounded in his ears. “Come back!”

He could hear Cinderpaw flailing, and water spattered his nose. “What should I do?” She gave a spluttered cry; a wave must have washed straight into her mouth.

“Keep moving your legs!” Jaypaw yowled. “Imagine you’re running. Use your tail for balance.” Anything to keep your nose above water.

The splashing stopped suddenly.

“Cinderpaw!”

No sound. Only the gentle splash of the waves on the shore.

Had she been sucked into the depths?

“Cinderpaw! Are you okay?” he called more desperately.

“I’m swimming!” Cinderpaw’s reply made him gasp with relief.

“Really?”

“What do you mean, really?” Her reproachful mew was drowned as a wave slapped her muzzle and she started to cough.

“Keep moving your paws!” Jaypaw urged.

“I am!” Cinderpaw spluttered. “And it works. It really works! I’m floating!” She coughed again.

“Concentrate on swimming!” Jaypaw ordered. He could hear her rhythmic passage through the water. She was heading along the shore. He splashed through the shallows, keeping level with her.

Suddenly a yowl from the bank made him freeze. “Cinderpaw! What are you doing?”

Leafpool was calling from the beach.

“I’m swimming!” Cinderpaw splashed back toward the shore and padded, dripping, into the shallows beside Jaypaw.

“Jaypaw taught me!”

Jaypaw flattened his ears, waiting for Leafpool to lecture him. But her gaze warmed his pelt. She was intrigued, not angry.

“Go on,” she prompted.

“I figured the water would support her,” he ventured. “So she could strengthen her leg without putting too much weight on it.”

“And how does your leg feel now?” Leafpool asked Cinderpaw.

“It aches,” she mewed. “But it doesn’t hurt like it does when I walk on the ground.” She began to wade back out into the lake. “Can I try some more?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but plunged into the waves.

The shingle shifted as Leafpool reached Jaypaw. “Well done,” she murmured.

He dipped his head. “Cinderpelt couldn’t be a warrior, but Cinderpaw can.”

Leafpool ran her tail along his damp flank. “I hope so.”

Her mew became brisk. “You should come out now, Cinderpaw, before you’re too tired to walk back to camp.” She turned to Jaypaw. “Bring her back slowly; then get some rest. It’s half-moon time, and we’re going to the Moonpool tonight.”

Jaypaw scrambled upward, his claws scraping on the smooth boulders. A few more tail-lengths and I’ll reach the hollow. His paws were aching, heavy as stones, and his head buzzed with tiredness. He had walked Cinderpaw carefully back to camp as Leafpool had asked, and their Clanmates had gathered around them, shocked by Cinderpaw’s dripping pelt.

“You’re wet!” Sorreltail had meowed.

Hollypaw had paced around her friend, prickling with worry. “Did you fall in the lake?”

“I’ve been swimming!” Cinderpaw told them proudly. She was still limping, but she could walk without help now.

“Swimming!” Hollypaw sounded astonished.

“She’s going to swim every day to strengthen her leg,” Jaypaw explained. He guided his patient away from the noise of the clearing and settled her back into her nest.

“Thank you, Jaypaw.” Cinderpaw’s mew was heartfelt.

“Being a warrior is so important to me.”

Jaypaw nodded. “I know.”

“Hurry up!” Leafpool’s mew jolted him back to the present.

He scrambled over the rim of the hollow, a rush of cool mountain air flattening the fur on his face. Following Leafpool, he padded down the well-trodden path to the Moonpool. As usual, the smooth stone, dimpled by the paw steps of ancient cats, felt warm and comforting beneath his paws.

Barkface had hardly spoken during the journey. Leafpool had been no better. The tension between her and the WindClan medicine cat had made the air crackle as though a storm were brewing. Barkface hadn’t brought Kestrelpaw with him, claiming the WindClan apprentice had hurt his paw on a sharp thorn. But Jaypaw could sense a defensive shield around Barkface, as though he’d wrapped himself in brambles. He guessed that the WindClan medicine cat wanted to protect his apprentice from any difficult questions Leafpool might ask about the prey-stealing.

Mothwing, Willowpaw, and Littlecloud seemed oblivious to the tension.

“Next time we come, it’ll be leaf-fall,” Mothwing commented.

Willowpaw shivered. “I’ll miss the warm nights.”

“It’s been a fine greenleaf,” Littlecloud meowed. “But the half bridge has been crowded with Twolegs. Why do they have to be so noisy?”

“At least leaf-fall will mean they’ll stop coming,” Mothwing soothed.

“That is the one comfort of the cold seasons,” Littlecloud agreed.

“Have you chosen your apprentice yet, Littlecloud?”

Willowpaw sounded eager to have a new set of paws join them on this journey.

“I have someone in mind,” Littlecloud purred.

Jaypaw waited for Leafpool to make a comment. Did she long for an apprentice who had always wanted to be a medicine cat? She knew Jaypaw had wanted to be a warrior first. Or maybe one who can see? he thought with a flash of bitterness. But Leafpool said nothing, just swept the tip of her tail lightly over his ears as she passed. Jaypaw felt hot with shame. Sometimes he wasn’t the only cat who could tell what others were thinking.

The cats fanned out around the edge of the Moonpool, Jaypaw padding in Leafpool’s paw steps until she settled at the far side. He sat down beside her, eager to touch his nose to the water. He wanted to talk to StarClan about the prophecy.

He wanted to find out if they knew of the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Would StarClan be able to explain how the Tribe knew about the prophecy?

Jaypaw lifted his muzzle. Another cat was bristling with anticipation. Mothwing.

The RiverClan medicine cat cleared her throat. “Before we share dreams with StarClan, I wish to give Willowpaw her full Clan name.”

“Already?” Willowpaw was thrilled. “Oh, wow! How can I thank you, Mothwing?”

“You have earned your name,” Mothwing replied gently.

“This is nothing but what you deserve.”

“Only thanks to you,” Willowpaw mewed. “You’ve been a great mentor.”

“And I hope I shall continue to be so.”

Jaypaw knew that Willowpaw would be an apprentice to Mothwing for as long as the RiverClan medicine cat lived, but her new name would give her a respect and status in her Clan she had not had before. His tail twitched. How long before Leafpool gave him his Clan name?

Then a thought crossed his mind: How could Mothwing perform the naming ceremony when she didn’t believe in StarClan?

Leafpool’s whiskers brushed his cheek as she leaned close.

“StarClan will hear her, even though she refuses to hear them.”

Jaypaw gasped. “How—”

“I know you better than you think, Jaypaw,” Leafpool purred.

Jaypaw pulled away. He didn’t like the idea that his mentor could second-guess his thoughts.

Mothwing began the ceremony. “I, Mothwing, medicine cat of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the way of a medicine cat, and with your help she will serve her Clan for many moons.”

Was it his imagination or did the starlight feel warm on his pelt? Jaypaw closed his eyes and reached into Willowpaw’s mind. Her joy flooded over him.

“Willowpaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between Clan and Clan, and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do.” Stars swirled in Willowpaw’s mind.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Willowpaw, from this moment you will be known as Willowshine. StarClan honors your loyalty and your compassion. May you use them to serve your Clan for endless moons.”

Jaypaw heard Willowshine’s tongue lap Mothwing’s fur.

“Willowshine! Willowshine!” Leafpool, Barkface, and Littlecloud raised their voices to Silverpelt.

“Willowshine!” Jaypaw joined them, caught up in their excitement.

Jaypaw heard the Moonpool ripple as Willowshine’s paw tips touched the water’s edge.

“Thank you—all of you,” she meowed. “My paws were guided by StarClan in everything I have done, and I hope they will continue to guide me for the rest of my life.”

“May StarClan grant that it is so,” murmured Barkface.

“Congratulations, Willowshine,” Leafpool meowed warmly.

“Well done,” Littlecloud purred. He lay down beside the Moonpool. “StarClan will be eager to share tongues with you, I’m sure.” He touched his nose to the water and grew still.

Fur brushed stone as the other cats followed his lead and lay down to share dreams with StarClan. As Jaypaw rested his belly on the cool rock, Leafpool whispered in his ear.

“Don’t walk in Willowshine’s dreams tonight,” she warned.

“Let her meet StarClan alone.”

I wasn’t going to! He felt a flash of satisfaction. She wasn’t a mind reader after all. Jaypaw had no intentions of sharing any other cat’s dream tonight. He wanted his own meeting with StarClan, to ask them about the prophecy.

He touched his nose to the chilly water, and his mind instantly filled with lush greenery as he entered StarClan’s hunting grounds. There was no hint of leaf-fall in the air here, only trees in full leaf and undergrowth burgeoning with life.

Cats moved through it, some talking, some chasing prey, others simply basking in the sunshine. An orange pelt shimmered beyond a swath of ferns. A tabby groomed a tortoiseshell, while a cat with a black-and-white pelt crept through the long grass, stalking prey. Jaypaw didn’t recognize anyone. Ancestors from the other Clans. Jaypaw was frustrated. He wanted to talk to someone he knew.

His hopes lifted as he recognized a pelt weaving through the long grass ahead of him. Then, with a sigh, he realized it was Littlecloud. He hadn’t meant to be here, in Littlecloud’s dream. He was about to turn away when he noticed a small gray-and-white tom padding toward the ShadowClan medicine cat. The tom’s pelt was flecked with grizzled strands of fur. He must be ancient!

Littlecloud dipped his head in greeting. “Runningnose.”

The tom blinked in reply, his nose glistening between sniffs.

I’m not surprised they don’t touch muzzles. Jaypaw slipped behind a tree and listened. He knew Runningnose had been a ShadowClan medicine cat many moons ago. What kind of medicine cat can’t cure his own cold?

“How are things?” Runningnose asked.

Littlecloud hesitated, and Jaypaw could sense that he was groping for an answer.

“Is the prey running well?” Runningnose pressed. His eyes narrowed as Littlecloud fidgeted in front of him, shifting his weight from one paw to another.

“Prey’s running fine,” Littlecloud answered.

“Are the Twolegs bothering you?”

Littlecloud shook his head.

“What about Tawnypelt’s kits? Are they healthy?” Runningnose sat down, clearly puzzled as Littlecloud’s gaze darted to his paws. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“It’s Blackstar!” Littlecloud blurted out his leader’s name with a guilty glance over his shoulder. He dropped his voice to a whisper so Jaypaw had to prick his ears to catch the rest.

“He’s so…” Littlecloud was still searching for words. “So… distant.”

“Distant?” Runningnose echoed. “Do you mean he’s left the Clan?”

“No!” Irritation edged Littlecloud’s mew. “Distant, as in distracted. He lets Russetfur organize all the patrols, and he’s started to say things.” Littlecloud flicked his tail.

“What sort of things?”

“He says he wonders if StarClan meant to bring us to the lake at all!” Littlecloud burst out.

Runningnose’s gaze darkened. “Then you’re right to be worried.”

“I am?”

“Blackstar is losing his faith,” Runningnose meowed.

Littlecloud’s ears twitched. “How can that be? He’s always believed.”

“It doesn’t matter why or how.” Runningnose rubbed a paw across his muzzle. “You must help him to find his faith again.”

“But how?” Littlecloud sounded dismayed. “What can I do?”

“Help him find his faith again,” Runningnose repeated.

The old tom was fading, growing transparent like the forest around him.

“Help me!” Littlecloud begged. But the forest had disappeared.

Jaypaw blinked open his eyes and found himself in darkness beside the Moonpool. He got to his paws, frustrated.

What did it matter to him if Blackstar was turning into a birdbrain? Surely it was better if ShadowClan were led by a senile old fool?

Leafpool was stirring beside him. “Did you dream of anything?” she whispered.

“No,” Jaypaw replied, still feeling out of sorts. “Nothing that matters.”