Eclipse

Chapter 14

“I can’t stand hearing it and doing nothing.” Ferncloud crouched in the clearing beside Jaypaw. Distant wails and screeches echoed from the forest.

“We need you here in case the camp is attacked again,” Jaypaw pointed out.

“Waiting is worse than fighting,” Ferncloud growled.

“Concentrate on noises inside the camp.”

“What noises?” Ferncloud stiffened beside him as she strained to listen. Couldn’t she hear the murmuring and shuffling from inside Firestar’s den?

Longtail and Mousefur were sheltering there with Millie, Daisy, and the kits. From the sound of it, they were having trouble finding room.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Longtail complained.

“Just stay where you are,” Mousefur croaked. “If you move, you might tread on another kit.”

Another bout of mewling started, followed by Millie’s soothing mew. “It’s all right, little ones. Isn’t it fun to be in the leader’s den?”

“I want to be outside fighting!” Toadkit squeaked. “Not stuck in this hole.”

“You’ll turn your mother’s fur white with talk like that,” Mousefur scolded. “You’re too young to fight. Stop complaining and make yourself useful, like Rosekit.”

Rosekit was mewling softly to the younger kits, helping to quiet them.

“Do you think they’ll attack the camp again?” Daisy fretted.

“Whatever happens, no cat’s going to harm our kits,” Millie growled. But Jaypaw could hear fear in her mew. There was nothing she could do to help her Clanmates fighting out in the forest.

Graystripe, Whitewing, and Icepaw paced outside the barrier, guarding the entrance. They were too busy listening for danger to speak. Icepaw’s fur scuffed against the forest floor from time to time, and her paws scrabbled on the fallen leaves.

She must be practicing battle moves.

Inside the hollow, Brightheart restlessly circled the camp.

Occasionally she stopped, and Jaypaw guessed she was scanning the ledges along the steep rock walls in case any WindClan warriors were trying to sneak down in a stealth attack. Jaypaw trusted her senses; her one eye made her hearing and sense of smell almost as good as his own. No cat could steal past her. And even if they did, Cinderpaw was prowling the clearing, every hair on her pelt bristling.

“Are you sure your leg’s okay?” Jaypaw was worried she’d been pacing on it too long.

“It’s much stronger with all the swimming,” Cinderpaw promised.

“Just rest awhile,” Jaypaw advised.

“I’ll rest on Highledge.”

Jaypaw wondered whether to stop her from struggling up the tumble of rocks, but there was such determination in her voice that it seemed pointless to argue. Leafpool’s memory of the badger flashed in his mind, part of his own memories now—black-and-white fur crashing through bramble walls, snapping jaws, the stench of blood, kits mewling in terror.

Cinderpelt had died to protect them. Was Cinderpaw’s mind echoing with that memory now? If it was, then nothing he could say would stop her from guarding the kits.

He listened to her scrabbling up to Highledge, praying her leg wouldn’t slip on the loose rocks, relieved when she mounted the ledge and settled at the mouth of Firestar’s cave.

Leafpool was in her den, sifting through leaves and sorting herbs. Jaypaw could smell their pungent aromas mingle as she mixed poultices and ointments, ready for the wounded.

“We’ve got everything covered,” Jaypaw comforted Ferncloud. “ThunderClan won’t be taken as easily as Onestar thinks.”

Ferncloud shifted on her paws. “Now tell me what you really think.”

“What do you mean?” It wasn’t like Ferncloud to be skeptical.

“It’s your duty to encourage your Clanmates, but what has StarClan told you about this battle?”

Jaypaw shook his head. How could he tell her that they’d had no warning? Yet he wouldn’t lie to defend his ancestors.

Why had they let ThunderClan down? “StarClan didn’t tell us anything,” he murmured.

“Nothing at all?”

“No.”

Ferncloud huddled into a tighter crouch, her whiskers trembling.

Were StarClan as surprised as ThunderClan by this attack?

Or were they simply on WindClan’s side?

Brambles swished.

“How did Cinderpaw get up there?” Leafpool’s mew was taut with worry.

“She climbed up,” Jaypaw replied.

Leafpool bristled.

“I told her to rest her leg,” Jaypaw explained. “It was the only place she would settle.” Hadn’t he proved already that he knew what was best for Cinderpaw? Why couldn’t Leafpool believe that Cinderpaw’s leg was healing?

Leafpool called up to Cinderpaw, “Don’t try to climb down without help!”

“I don’t need help!” Cinderpaw mewed. “My leg’s fine!”

“She’s smart enough to be careful,” Jaypaw pointed out.

“She’s worked hard to recover, and she knows better than both of us what she can and can’t manage.” He pressed on. “Don’t forget that she wants to become a warrior. She’s not going to do anything that will threaten that.”

Leafpool didn’t reply.

“Just trust her,” Jaypaw urged. And trust me!

Leafpool sighed. “Can you tell what’s going on in the forest?”

Relieved to change the subject, Jaypaw cast his hearing beyond the confines of the hollow, concentrating on the faraway shrieking, and gradually began to recognize yowls and screeches.

“Dustpelt’s patrol is fighting by the lakeside,” he told her.

“Firestar’s patrol has been ambushed near the WindClan border. Brambleclaw’s patrol is under attack near the Twoleg nest.”

He wished she hadn’t asked him. Now his mind swirled with images of cat fighting cat, of blood-soaked pelts, of flesh ripping between teeth. He shivered. “Let me go out there,” he begged.

Leafpool stiffened. “No way!”

“Our Clanmates are getting injured,” he protested. “I could bring them back to the hollow.” He had to do something to help his Clan. He was no use here, even if WindClan attacked.

“But it’s dark,” Leafpool argued.

“Do you think that makes a difference to me?” Jaypaw let his wide, blank gaze rest on her. “In fact, it’ll help. I’ll be able to hear cats when they can’t see me.”

He sensed Leafpool soften. “You will be careful, though?”

“I’m not going to get myself hurt.” I’m too important to let that happen.

“It would be good to start treating the wounded as soon as we can.”

Jaypaw sensed a tremor beneath her mew. There had never been a battle like this before, fought in so many places within a single territory. He reached into her mind and found her thoughts swathed not in fog, but in darkness.

They were all flailing around in the unknown.

Jaypaw stood up. “The sooner I get going, the better.”

Leafpool leaned forward and pressed her muzzle to his cheek. “Be careful,” she whispered.

Outside the thorn tunnel, Jaypaw sensed Graystripe tense with surprise.

“Where are you going?” the gray warrior demanded.

“Leafpool says I can go look for wounded cats.”

Graystripe hesitated.

“Do you want an escort?” Whitewing offered.

“It’ll be easier to stay hidden if I’m on my own,” Jaypaw reasoned.

“Keep low,” Graystripe advised. “If you hear trouble, head away from it.”

“I will,” Jaypaw promised. He padded away from the hollow.

“StarClan be with you!” Whitewing called.

As he weaved through the trees, picking his way over roots and around trailing bushes, Jaypaw wondered if any cats were with him. What about Fallen Leaves’ ancestors? Or the Tribe’s?

He paused. Which battle was closest? Pricking his ears, he heard a wail from the shore. The lake. He’d check there first.

With all that screeching, there were bound to be injuries.

He headed toward the scent of water, his paws slipping on the slope as it steepened toward the top of a low ridge. As he neared the crest he heard a grunt on the other side. A body smacked onto the ground. Jaypaw tasted the air, recognizing the scents of Sorreltail and Honeyfern. Honeyfern hissed, and claws scraped fur. A yowl split the air, and paws scrabbled against the leafy forest floor. Who were they fighting?

He tasted the air again, expecting to smell WindClan. But this scent was different. Watery, with a hint of fish.

RiverClan!

Two of them, by the smell of it.

What in StarClan’s name are they doing here?

Ducking low, he crept forward, nosing his way under a red currant bush. Its soft leaves stroked his pelt. It should give him good cover. He pulled himself forward, careful not to make the bush rustle.

One of the RiverClan cats was taunting Honeyfern. “Call yourself a warrior?”

“Call yourself a cat?” Honeyfern retorted. Pelt brushed pelt, and the two cats rolled, tussling on the ground.

“This is too easy,” the other RiverClan cat hissed.

Sorreltail yelped in pain.

Fresh air bathed Jaypaw’s muzzle. Then a strong smell of fish as a RiverClan pelt brushed his nose. Screeching a battle cry, he shot forward with his claws unsheathed and sank them into the glossy pelt in front of him.

The RiverClan tom screeched in surprise.

“Thanks, Jaypaw!” Sorreltail called.

Jaypaw ducked back as his Clanmates fell upon their attackers. Paws scrabbled in sudden desperation. The RiverClan cats were on the defensive now.

“Thought we were easy prey, didn’t you?” Honeyfern’s growl was followed by a yowl of pain from one of the RiverClan warriors.

“They’re running away!” Sorreltail cheered.

“Let’s chase them home!” Honeyfern yowled. Her paws thrummed the earth as she hared in pursuit of the fleeing warriors.

“Argh!” Sorreltail squealed as she tried to give chase and stumbled to a clumsy halt.

Jaypaw darted out from the bush. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve twisted my paw!”

He sniffed at the forepaw she held gingerly out. It was hot but not swollen. Gently he grasped it between his jaws and lifted it. Then he gave it a soft shake.

Sorreltail gasped but didn’t screech.

Placing it carefully down, Jaypaw told her, “It’s sprained, not broken. But I need to get you back to camp.”

“I can’t go now!” Sorreltail gasped. “RiverClan have joined the attack! There are more of them down on the shore. They attacked us from behind while we were fighting WindClan.”

Her mew was filled with outrage. “What did we ever do but help them? Why are they trying to drive us out of our home?”

Jaypaw couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why any of this was happening, and StarClan wasn’t giving any answers.

“Is Honeyfern all right?” he asked.

“Just a few scratches,” Sorreltail replied. “Once she’s seen those two off, she’ll rejoin the patrol.” She turned to go. “I should get back to them too.”

Jaypaw darted in front of her, ready to block her path, but it wasn’t necessary. She gasped in pain when she tried to put weight on her sprained paw.

“Let’s get that seen to,” he mewed. He pressed against her shoulder and began to guide her up the slope back toward camp. With a pang, he remembered helping Cinderpaw this way after her accident in her warrior assessment. That seemed moons ago now.

Panting, they neared camp, Jaypaw stumbling under her weight. He was relieved when he heard Graystripe pounding toward him.

“Here, let me take over.” The gray warrior nosed him out of the way and supported Sorreltail for the last few paw steps into camp.

Leafpool hurried across the clearing to meet them, comfrey leaves bundled between her jaws. “Lay her here,” she ordered, dropping the comfrey.

She’s in safe paws now. Jaypaw turned, preparing to go out again.

“Wait!” Graystripe blocked his path. “What’s it like out there?”

“RiverClan are fighting with WindClan,” Jaypaw told him.

“I’ll try to find out how far they’ve gotten into our territory.”

He padded past Graystripe, feeling the warrior’s tail touch his back.

“Try to reach Firestar,” Graystripe meowed. “Warn him about RiverClan, but don’t take any risks.”

Jaypaw pushed his way out through the thorn barrier once more and headed inland, toward the border, where he could hear Firestar’s patrol battling the WindClan ambush. Ashfur’s yowl rang through the trees, desperate but determined.

They hadn’t been beaten yet.

Jaypaw weaved through the trees, feeling his way with his whiskers, keeping low. His pelt bristled as he remained alert for any sound other than the distant cries of battle.

“Stupid brambles!”

A sudden unfamiliar mew sent Jaypaw scooting backward into a clump of ferns. They swallowed him and he froze, relieved to be hidden.

“Did you hear that?” The mew was only a few tail-lengths away.

Jaypaw tasted the air. RiverClan again!

“Hear what?”

“That rustling.”

“Everything rustles in this dumb place.”

Four RiverClan cats were making clumsy progress through the woods. One of them tripped, setting a whole bramble bush rattling.

“Could you make any more noise, Reedwhisker?”

“Shut up, Mosspelt! You’re the one that yelped like a kit when you fell down that rabbit hole!”

Jaypaw’s whiskers twitched. Like fish out of water. He waited for them to pass. They’re heading for the WindClan border.

Firestar’s patrol!

He had to get there first. He backed out from the ferns as quietly as he could and darted along a fox trail. He knew it led directly to the border stream. For once he was grateful for the stench of fox; it made it easy to follow the trail and would hide his own scent. The sound of battle grew louder. Jaypaw smelled blood and sensed fear and pain flooding the forest.

He slowed as he heard scuffling ahead and tasted the air.

Lionpaw.

The scent of his brother was strong.

He pricked his ears. Lionpaw was fighting two WindClan warriors single-pawed. Jaypaw unsheathed his claws, wishing he could help. But Lionpaw sounded as though he was doing okay by himself. One of the WindClan warriors was already hopping on three legs, and the other was scrabbling on the ground, backing away in a hurry.

“Run home, cowards!” Lionpaw sneered as the bushes beside Jaypaw exploded and the two WindClan warriors pelted past him.

“Lionpaw?” Jaypaw hissed.

“Jaypaw? Is that you?” Lionpaw darted toward him. “Are you okay?” He was breathing hard, and his pelt smelled of blood. Energy was pulsing from him as though a fire raged in his belly, and Jaypaw could sense that his mind was caught in a whirl of exhilaration.

“Four RiverClan cats are heading this way to help WindClan,” Jaypaw warned.

“RiverClan?” Lionpaw sounded shocked for a moment.

Then his mew hardened. “I’ll sort them out.” He hurried away, leaving Jaypaw blinking in surprise.

“You can’t tackle them on your own!” Jaypaw called after him.

But Lionpaw had vanished among the trees.

“Jaypaw?” Firestar’s mew sounded close to his ear. “What are you doing here?”

“RiverClan have joined WindClan in the battle.”

Firestar drew in a sharp breath. Fear flickered from his pelt for an instant. “Go tell Brambleclaw.” The ThunderClan leader’s mew was grim. “Can you find the way?”

Jaypaw nodded.

“We’re outnumbered here,” Firestar went on. “We may need to retreat to the hollow and defend ourselves there.”

Jaypaw’s heart lurched. That would give WindClan control of the rest of the territory. It would no longer be a question of protecting their borders. They would be fighting for their lives. He longed for Firestar to tell him it would be all right, but the ThunderClan leader had plunged away, back into battle.

Jaypaw lifted his muzzle, finding his bearings. The lake breeze was blowing from behind him. The sound of Brambleclaw’s patrol screeched somewhere ahead. He pushed on through the undergrowth, heading for the noise, whiskers twitching, paws feeling gingerly ahead with each step. He couldn’t risk tripping and hurting himself. He had to warn the Clan deputy about WindClan’s RiverClan allies.

Birds were stirring in the trees, chattering anxiously as the sound of battle unsettled the forest. The air began to taste warm. Dawn must be on its way.

Jaypaw’s forepaws slipped as the ground dipped down steeply in front of him. Unsheathing his claws, he skittered down the slope, half running, half falling into a soft swath of ferns at the bottom. Only tail-lengths ahead, claws scraped against stone. Cats hissed and yowled, and the air smelled of blood.

And of fish. RiverClan were here already.

He’d found Brambleclaw’s patrol too late!

Jaypaw trembled as he sensed exhaustion flooding from his Clanmates. They couldn’t hold out much longer.

“Jaypaw?” Hollypaw was backing through the ferns toward him. “I thought I smelled you.” Her words were slurred, and her pelt was sticky with blood. She was as close to being beaten as he’d ever known. And yet determination still stiffened her battered body.

I should have brought traveling herbs to give her strength.

“What are you doing here?” she panted.

“I came to warn you that RiverClan have come to help WindClan.”

“Thanks, but we know,” she mewed grimly. Suddenly she pushed him back. “Stay out of the way!” Paws were padding toward them. Jaypaw smelled a RiverClan tom advancing.

A growl rumbled in Hollypaw’s throat. Jaypaw sensed the power and energy rippling beneath the RiverClan warrior’s pelt. It was an unfair match! Hollypaw was exhausted. He had to help her. Crouching beside her, he faced the tom and ripped at the ground with his claws.

Then he froze. Another scent was tainting the air.

ShadowClan!

Tawnypelt was fighting close to Brambleclaw. Was ShadowClan battling them too?

Paws pounded up the Twoleg path. More ShadowClan!

Jaypaw felt a wave of despair break over him. How could they possibly fight three Clans? Had StarClan given up on them entirely? He stumbled back into the ferns. There was nothing he could do now to save his Clan.

Fur brushed his pelt. Tawnypelt was beside him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Jaypaw lashed out with a forepaw, aiming for her muzzle, rage burning in his belly. “How can you attack your own kin?”

She blocked his blow with her paw. “We’ve come to help,” she hissed. “Hollypaw fetched us!” She shoved him farther back into the ferns. “Get back to the hollow and stay out of trouble!”

“What about Hollypaw?”

“Snaketail and Scorchpaw will help her.”

Jaypaw tasted the air. Two ShadowClan warriors were fighting alongside Hollypaw now, their scents mingling with the tang of fish-foul blood spraying from her RiverClan attacker. Her paws scrabbled against the path as she leaped forward and, with a yowl of rage and pain, the RiverClan cat pounded away into the forest.

“Go now!” Tawnypelt urged. She turned to head back into the fight, but Jaypaw pressed his paw to her flank.

“Firestar’s outnumbered by the WindClan border, and Dustpelt’s struggling beside the lake.”

“I’ll send warriors to help them,” Tawnypelt promised.

The ferns rustled as she hesitated. “Wait,” she hissed. “Take Mousewhisker with you. His eye’s hurt.” She leaped away and returned a moment later with the young warrior.

“I want to stay and fight,” Mousewhisker was protesting.

“Not with that eye,” Tawnypelt told him.

“I can see out of the other.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Jaypaw smelled blood. “You can come back when I’ve cleaned it up, and fight even better,” he promised.

Mousewhisker hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. “But we have to be quick.”

Tawnypelt plunged back into battle.

“Come on,” Mousewhisker prompted.

Side by side, they ran along the edge of the Twoleg path, back toward camp. Mousewhisker pressed against him, steering him through the undergrowth spilling from the edge of the forest. Jaypaw’s head was full of the sounds of horror and spilling blood. The whole forest seemed alive with wailing and clawing and the ripping of fur.

All four Clans were fighting, and StarClan had told him nothing.