Eclipse

Chapter 6

Hollypaw watched the dawn sky lighten. Was it too early to visit Cinderpaw? Leafpool had shooed her away the night before; her patient had been sleeping.

The thorn barrier rustled. The dawn patrol was returning.

Graystripe and Dustpelt padded into the camp, followed by Whitewing and Icepaw. Whitewing was trying to persuade her apprentice to be quiet. “You’ve been chattering nonstop since we left,” she scolded. “We’re home now, and your Clanmates are still sleeping.”

“But I was only asking Graystripe if I could go with him to tell Firestar.” It had been Icepaw’s first dawn patrol, and the young apprentice was fizzing with energy.

“This is serious news.” Graystripe flicked Icepaw’s ear gently with his tail. “I’m not sure Firestar will want you bouncing around his den while he hears it.”

Hollypaw pricked her ears. “What news?” She padded forward.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Graystripe called as he followed Dustpelt up the rocks to Highledge.

Disappointed, Hollypaw turned away and stared at the medicine cat’s den. I’ll just peek in and see if anyone’s awake. She padded to the cave and nosed her way through the brambles that covered the entrance. Blinking to adjust to the half-light, she saw Leafpool mixing herbs by a cleft in the rock.

Hollypaw entered the den. “Is that for Cinderpaw?” she whispered.

Leafpool nodded without looking up. “Yes, it is.”

“I’ve come to see her,” Hollypaw explained. “Is she awake?”

A croaking mew sounded from a nest in the shadows. “I’ve been awake for ages.” Cinderpaw sounded in pain. Hollypaw hurried over to her friend’s nest. The gray apprentice lay awkwardly on the moss, her injured leg sticking out, her eyes dull.

Leafpool padded across the cave and dropped a mouthful of leaves beside the nest.

Hollypaw gazed anxiously at the medicine cat. “Is she okay?”

“She’s wrenched the muscles in her leg.”

“In that case, she just needs to start using it,” Hollypaw mewed brightly. “To build up her strength.”

“Easy for you to say,” Cinderpaw grumbled.

“Come on, try stretching it,” Hollypaw encouraged.

Trembling, Cinderpaw strained to move her leg. “I can’t!”

Hollypaw’s heart lurched. Cinderpaw had never sounded so miserable.

“It’s bound to be stiff,” Leafpool told her.

Hollypaw narrowed her eyes. There was sharpness in the medicine cat’s voice. Was she frustrated that Cinderpaw was making such a fuss?

“Try stretching it again,” Leafpool meowed.

“Yes,” Hollypaw agreed. “The sooner you start moving around, the better.”

Screwing up her face, Cinderpaw struggled to her feet.

“Try putting a little weight on it,” Leafpool suggested.

Cinderpaw gingerly pressed her paw to the ground. “Ow!”

She flopped back into her nest. “It hurts too much, and I’m too tired.”

“Eat these herbs.” Leafpool nosed the pile of leaves close to Cinderpaw’s face. “I’ll fetch some more ointment to soothe the swelling.” The medicine cat was frowning. Was she worried, or upset?

As Leafpool padded to the other side of the cave, Hollypaw decided to try to distract her friend. “Icepaw’s been on her first patrol.”

“Really?” Cinderpaw sounded uninterested.

Hollypaw searched for something else to tell her. Should she share what Brambleclaw had told her last night? She’s going to find out anyway. “Firestar’s giving Poppypaw and Honeypaw their warrior names today.”

Cinderpaw turned her head away and closed her eyes.

“It’ll be your turn soon,” Hollypaw promised.

“I just want to sleep,” Cinderpaw muttered, without opening her eyes.

“Okay.” Feeling wretched, Hollypaw padded to the entrance.

“Don’t forget to eat those herbs!” she called over her shoulder.

Cinderpaw merely grunted, and Hollypaw pushed her way out through the brambles.

Jaypaw was heading toward the den.

Hollypaw greeted him. “You’re up early.”

“I’ve been checking on Millie.” He halted beside her. “Were you visiting Cinderpaw?”

“Yes.” Hollypaw sighed. “She seems even worse than the last time she hurt her leg.”

“She’ll feel better once the swelling goes down.”

“Will she be able to walk again?” Hollypaw’s ears twitched.

She realized with a jolt that she was terrified of the answer.

Jaypaw blinked. “Of course she will! She’s only wrenched her leg. She should heal quicker this time.”

Is that true? Hollypaw searched his face. “But Cinderpaw won’t even try to move. Last time, we could hardly keep her still.”

“She’s just upset,” Jaypaw mewed. “She was so close to making warrior, and now she’s got to wait.”

“But Leafpool seemed really worried.”

“Leafpool!” Jaypaw snorted angrily and padded past her into the den.

Surprised, Hollypaw watched him go. Had he fallen out with his mentor? But what have they got to fall out over?

“Hollypaw!” Foxpaw’s excited mew made her spin around.

The young apprentice nearly crashed into her as she skidded to a halt. “Firestar’s about to give Poppypaw and Honeypaw their warrior names!”

Hollypaw looked up at Highledge and saw Firestar gazing down at the clearing. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather together!” he called.

Thornclaw and Sandstorm were already waiting below Highledge with Honeypaw and Poppypaw. The young cats looked sleek and shiny from close grooming, and their eyes sparkled.

Hollypaw hurried to join Lionpaw at the edge of the clearing. Her paws were tingling. She was only a moon younger than Poppypaw and Honeypaw. It would be her turn next.

“Can you imagine what it feels like to be made a warrior?” she whispered to Lionpaw.

Lionpaw puffed out his chest. “Every cat will take us seriously then,” he meowed.

Millie, swollen-bellied, padded from the nursery and looked hopefully around the camp. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Graystripe gulping down a mouse beside the halfrock.

He looked up, swallowing. “Sorry.” He burped, hurrying to her side. “I was hungry after the patrol.” He looked anxiously at her. “Have you eaten?”

Millie licked his cheek. “Poppypaw brought us fresh-kill earlier,” she assured him.

They padded to the edge of the clearing, which buzzed with chatter as the Clan gathered for the naming ceremony.

Mousefur padded stiffly from the elders’ den, Longtail beside her. It was hard to tell who was guiding whom.

“At this rate, there won’t be any apprentices left to fetch moss for my nest,” Mousefur complained.

Icepaw was bouncing past the elder and stopped to gaze earnestly up at her. “I’ll always fetch you the softest moss, Mousefur,” she promised. “Even when I’m a warrior.”

Mousefur purred. “Get away with you!” She affectionately shooed the young apprentice away with her muzzle.

Hollypaw nudged Lionpaw. “Icepaw must be crazy.”

Lionpaw’s whiskers twitched with amusement.

Cloudtail and Brightheart had settled in the shadow beneath Highledge. Thornclaw and Sandstorm nodded a greeting to them. The two mentors had backed away from Poppypaw and Honeypaw, and their fur splayed untidily against the rock face. They clearly wanted to give Sorreltail and Brackenfur room to fuss over their kits.

Sorreltail was giving Poppypaw’s ears a fierce lick. “I want you looking nice,” she meowed as Poppypaw scooted backward, out of reach.

Brackenfur purred. “She looks fine.” His proud gaze switched to Honeypaw. “They both do.”

Sorreltail looked at her paws, sadness glazing her eyes.

“Molekit should be here too.” Her only tom-kit had died of greencough before he was out of the nursery.

“And Cinderpaw.” Cloudtail glanced toward the medicine cat den.

The white warrior’s whiskers twitched as the brambles at the entrance stirred, then drooped as Leafpool emerged.

Hollypaw guessed he had been hoping that Cinderpaw would come to watch the ceremony.

Tail flicking, Sorreltail left her kits and hurried to Leafpool’s side. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Leafpool assured her friend. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have left her.” Hollypaw noticed that the worry in the medicine cat’s eyes didn’t match the lightness of her tone.

To Hollypaw’s surprise, Sorreltail nuzzled Leafpool’s flank.

“It must remind you of Cinderpelt’s accident,” she murmured.

Leafpool’s eyes grew round, as though she’d never noticed the connection before. She blinked. “That’s exactly why I won’t let the same thing happen to Cinderpaw.”

“I hope Leafpool’s right this time,” Cloudtail muttered to Brightheart.

Brightheart pressed her muzzle against his cheek. “She will be. It’ll be Cinderpaw’s turn before you know it.”

Icepaw still hadn’t settled. “I can’t wait till it’s my turn!”

She was padding excitedly around her brother outside the circle of cats. “I want to be called Icestorm. Do you think we get to choose?”

“Firestar chooses,” Foxpaw mewed. “But I hope he chooses Foxcatcher for me.”

“That’s a terrible name.” Icepaw gasped.

“No, it’s not!”

“Is so!”

Ferncloud padded over to her two kits. “Are you arguing again?” She licked Icepaw’s head, flattening a bit of fur that was sticking up like a tuft of grass.

“Foxpaw started it,” Icepaw accused.

“I don’t care who started it,” Ferncloud meowed. “Be quiet and let Firestar speak.”

Icepaw looked up in alarm to find Firestar staring sternly down at her. Quickly, she hurried around the edge of the clearing with Foxpaw on her tail, and sat down beside Hollypaw. Hollypaw stifled a purr as Icepaw folded her tail over her paws and tried to sit still.

Firestar stepped to the edge of Highledge. “I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentices.” Hollypaw could feel Icepaw trembling with excitement as Firestar went on. “They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.” He bounded down the tumble of rocks and padded to the center of the clearing. Sandstorm nodded encouragement to Honeypaw, whose eyes were wide with apprehension. Thornclaw nudged Poppypaw forward, and the two apprentices stepped into the clearing.

“Poppypaw and Honeypaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”

“I do,” Honeypaw breathed.

“I do!” Poppypaw’s mew nearly drowned out her sister’s reply.

Envy made Hollypaw’s claws itch. She pushed it away. Not long to wait.

“Then by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior names.” He beckoned Poppypaw with a flick of his tail. She padded toward him, chin high.

Touching his muzzle to her head, Firestar pronounced, “Poppypaw, from this moment you shall be known as Poppyfrost.” He stepped back. “StarClan honors your courage and initiative.”

He glanced at Honeypaw, who stepped forward in her turn. “Honeypaw, you shall be known as Honeyfern. StarClan honors your intelligence and kindness.” He pressed his nose between her ears.

“Poppyfrost! Honeyfern!” The Clan raised their voices to welcome the new warriors.

Hollypaw cheered as loudly as she could, proud of her denmates. But her mew died away as she noticed Honeyfern glance shyly at Berrynose; it was as if she wanted his approval above anyone’s.

She hissed into Lionpaw’s ear, “I wish Honeypaw—I mean Honeyfern—would stop mooning over that know-it-all!”

Lionpaw snorted. “She’ll be worse now that they’re sharing a den again.”

Hollypaw glanced at her brother, surprised to hear him so scornful. After all, he’d had his fair share of heartache. Does he ever think about Heatherpaw? If only Honeyfern were looking at him instead. A relationship with her would tie him even more tightly to the Clan. She remembered with a pang how close his love for Heatherpaw had come to tearing him away from them.

Had he truly forgotten her? He certainly never mentioned her.

That was a good sign. But then, he hadn’t mentioned her when he was sneaking off to meet her in the tunnels.

“Cats shouldn’t get so sappy over each other,” Lionpaw interrupted her thoughts. “It distracts them from trying to be the best warriors they can be.”

Relieved to hear that he finally seemed to have worked out where his loyalties lay, Hollypaw pressed closer to him. She knew how hard it had been for him to say good-bye to Heatherpaw. But it was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do.

As the cheering died away, Firestar lifted his voice once more. “I’m sorry that I cannot give Cinderpaw her warrior name today. But once her leg has healed, I know the whole Clan will be pleased to welcome her as a warrior.”

“Cinderpaw!” Honeyfern and Poppyfrost led the cheering this time, and Hollypaw glanced hopefully at the entrance to the medicine cat den. Had Cinderpaw peeked out to watch after all? There was no sign of the injured apprentice. Hollypaw sighed. Had she even heard the ceremony?

“Brambleclaw!” As the cats began to melt away, returning to their duties or to their dens, Firestar called to his deputy.

“Bring Sandstorm, Brackenfur, and Hollypaw with you.”

Hollypaw didn’t wait to be summoned by her father. She hurried over to the Highledge. Graystripe was already there; Sandstorm and Brackenfur padded beside Brambleclaw to join them.

“What is it?” Brambleclaw asked.

Hollypaw leaned forward, her whiskers twitching with worry. Graystripe’s warning flashed in her memory. This is serious news.

Firestar’s tone was grave. “The dawn patrol picked up WindClan scent on our side of the border again.”

Graystripe nodded. “And this time we found proof that they’re not just chasing prey over the border, but killing it there too.”

A growl rumbled in Brackenfur’s throat. “Proof?”

“There was squirrel fur and blood at the bottom of a tree inside our territory.”

Sandstorm bristled. “How dare they, after the warnings we’ve already given them?”

“We don’t know why they’re doing it,” Firestar meowed.

“But we must find out before we react.”

“It’s obvious why they’re doing it!” Brambleclaw burst out.

“They’re greedy.”

“We can’t be sure of that.” Firestar remained calm.

“We should post a patrol at the border,” Sandstorm declared, “and attack them next time they cross.”

Firestar glanced at his mate, narrowing his eyes. “I know how you feel, Sandstorm. But that’s not the best way to deal with this. I want to avoid bloodshed if we can.”

Sandstorm’s hackles rose. “They’re stealing our food!”

“And we’re not going to let them get away with it,” Firestar insisted. “But there’s no point rushing into battle before we know what’s going on.”

Sandstorm glared back. “Don’t you fight anyone anymore?”

“I’ll fight if I have to!” Firestar held her gaze. “But I won’t spill blood if reason can solve the problem.”

“We’ve tried reasoning with WindClan before,” Brambleclaw argued. “You act like they’re still our allies.”

Firestar shook his head. “I know they stopped being our allies long ago.” Wistfulness clouded his gaze. “The Clans are all rivals now.”

Hollypaw stared at her leader. Is he remembering the Great Journey? Six cats from the Clans traveled together to save them all. Or perhaps he was thinking of their most recent trek into the mountains. Hollypaw felt a tremor of doubt. Perhaps that journey hadn’t been such a good idea. Perhaps the blurring of the Clans led to the blurring of borders. And if borders were blurred, how could prey be shared fairly? There had to be rules, or only those who were prepared to fight all the time would survive! That was why StarClan wanted them to live by the warrior code. We need the warrior code as much as we need food and water! Hollypaw dug her claws into the ground. The Clans depended on the code; it was as simple as that.

“So what’s your plan?” Brambleclaw asked.

“I want you to go to Onestar,” Firestar told him. “Take Sandstorm, Brackenfur, and Hollypaw. Find out why he’s doing this. Tell him we’re increasing border patrols, and that if we catch any prey-thieves, we’ll deal with them, claws unsheathed.”

“Very well,” Brambleclaw agreed. “We’ll leave at once.” The deputy turned and headed for the gorse tunnel, Brackenfur and Sandstorm at his heels.

I’ve got to tell Lionpaw what’s happening! Hollypaw scanned the clearing. Her brother’s tail was sticking out of the elders’ den.

He must be cleaning out their nests.

She darted toward him.

His backside wriggled as he flung old bedding over his shoulder. Balls of moss showered around him, and he was grumbling to himself: “Mousefur was right.” A wad flew past Hollypaw’s ear. “There aren’t enough apprentices to do all the chores, and it’ll be ages till Rosekit and Toadkit are made ’paws!”

“I’m going to WindClan territory,” Hollypaw hissed.

Lionpaw’s tail disappeared as he whipped around. “Why?”

“We’re going to warn Onestar to keep out of our territory.”

He flexed his claws. “I wish I were going!”

Brambleclaw’s impatient mew sounded from the thorn tunnel. “Hollypaw!”

“I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.” Hollypaw dashed away and followed the patrol through the tunnel.

The forest was gloomy. No sunlight flickered through the trees; the sky hung dull and gray above them. The air tasted musty, of dying leaves and rotting bark, and the ground was soft and mushy beneath Hollypaw’s pads. Leaf-fall was closing in. As Brambleclaw and Sandstorm charged ahead, Hollypaw stopped to clean the mud from between her claws on the deeply ridged bark of a fallen tree.

Brackenfur halted beside her. “You’re wasting your time,” he meowed. “We’ve still got to cross the moor.”

“But it feels icky,” she complained.

“You can give them a good cleaning when we get home.”

Brackenfur f licked his tail toward Brambleclaw and Sandstorm as they disappeared over the crest of the slope. “Hurry up; we don’t want to get left behind.”

Hollypaw raced after her mentor, and they caught up to the others at the edge of the forest. As they padded out from the trees, the wind flattened Hollypaw’s fur. It tasted of rain.

She narrowed her eyes against the buffeting breeze. Below them the land sloped down to the border; clumps of heather dotted the hillside as woodland gave way to moorland.

“Why didn’t we go to the border inside the forest?” she asked.

“We’ll get a better view this way,” Brambleclaw told her.

“We should be able to spot a WindClan patrol far inside their territory and call to it without setting paw on their land.”

As he led the way to the border, Hollypaw opened her mouth, tasting for the scent of WindClan markers. The grass beneath her paws grew coarse. She tried to detect the scent line, but a tangier smell was filling her nose. Hollypaw curled her lip. “What’s that stench?”

“Sheep.” Brackenfur plunged through a swath of heather crossing their path.

Of course. As Hollypaw struggled through the heather and emerged on the other side, she recognized the fluffy shapes on the hillside. “Why are there so many?” They swarmed across the moor like clouds across a dusty green sky.

“Must have been a good season for them,” Brackenfur guessed.

Brambleclaw halted. “Here’s the border.”

Hollypaw sniffed at the heather and detected the stale scent of WindClan.

Sandstorm’s ears pricked. “Dogs!”

Hollypaw stiffened. Half-blinded by the piercing wind, she peered at the distant hillside rising up to the gray horizon. She could make out the shape of black-and-white dogs streaking over the heather. A Twoleg stood close by, waving its forelegs and whistling like a shrill bird giving an alarm.

Are the dogs hunting the Twoleg?

She watched more closely. No. The Twoleg seemed to be using the dogs to hunt the sheep; when it pointed with its forelegs, the dogs chased the animals across the grass, sending them into a frightened, bleating huddle. With any luck, the sheep would keep the dogs distracted long enough for the patrol to make it to the WindClan camp.

Brambleclaw was scouring the slope. “No sign of WindClan,” he meowed. “And judging by the markers, they haven’t been here for a while.”

“That’s because they’ve been too busy hunting in our forest,” Sandstorm growled.

“Should we go back and tell Firestar?” Brackenfur wondered.

Brambleclaw flexed his claws. “Not without speaking to Onestar.” He padded across the border and, with a flick of his tail, ordered the patrol to follow.

Hollypaw’s heart was racing as she followed Brackenfur through the heather into WindClan territory. The wind tugged at her fur as Brambleclaw led them on, chin high, ears pricked for danger.

As they crossed a muddy dip and began to climb the slope beyond, Hollypaw felt more and more wary. Something was wrong. She tasted the air, wrinkling her nose against the sheep stench. Where were the birds and rabbits? She sniffed again.

No WindClan, no birds, no rabbits. It was as though the land had been deserted by everything but the sheep and the dogs.

Brambleclaw halted suddenly, his hackles rising. Alarmed, Hollypaw looked up. A boulder rose like a giant paw from the grassy slope, and on it she saw the shape of a cat silhouetted against the hillside. WindClan!

“Stay where you are!”

Hollypaw recognized Harespring, a young brown and white tom.

He crouched, bristling, and glared down at them. “Isn’t there enough prey in ThunderClan territory?”

“How dare he accuse us?” Sandstorm hissed.

“Careful,” Brambleclaw whispered. “We are on his territory.”

Two more cats appeared beside Harespring—Ashfoot, the WindClan deputy, and Owlwhisker. The wind slicked their fur, but there was no doubt they were angry. Their eyes glittered with rage.

Before Ashfoot could speak, Brambleclaw took a step forward. “We’ve come to speak with Onestar.”

“We come in peace,” Sandstorm assured her.

“Go back to your own territory!” Ashfoot ordered.

Brambleclaw held his ground. “Not until we’ve seen Onestar.”

Owlwhisker narrowed his eyes. “ThunderClan should stop thinking they can come and go on WindClan territory as they please!” The light brown tom drew back his lips, his teeth yellow beneath. “I bet you don’t visit Blackstar this often!”

“Just go home,” Ashfoot growled. “Onestar doesn’t owe you any favors.” Her unsheathed claws scratched white marks into the stone.

Brambleclaw took another step forward. “We promised Firestar we’d speak to Onestar. We only want to talk!”

Harespring streaked from the boulder, hurling himself through the air and skidding to a halt in front of Brambleclaw.

“Not another paw step!”

Hollypaw let her claws slide out, her muscles tensing to defend her Clanmates.

“We want to see Onestar,” Brambleclaw repeated evenly.

He lifted his paw to take another step forward.

Harespring lunged at him, forepaws slashing.

With one swipe of his paw, Brambleclaw knocked the young warrior to the ground without unsheathing his claws.

Pinning him there, Brambleclaw glared up at Ashfoot. “We come in peace,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Ashfoot leaped down, staring in dismay at her fallen Clanmate. “Please let him go!” she begged.

Hollypaw was startled by the desperation in her voice.

Brambleclaw stepped back and let Harespring scramble to his paws. The young warrior hissed at the ThunderClan deputy.

Panic f lashing in her eyes, Ashfoot weaved between the two warriors. “You really have to go,” she meowed, half pleading. “Onestar has nothing to say to you.”

Brambleclaw hesitated, then nodded. Turning away, he flicked his tail. At his signal, Hollypaw fell in beside her Clanmates, and the patrol headed back toward the border.

Hollypaw was bristling with indignation. “It’s so unfair,” she snapped at Brackenfur. “We haven’t stolen any prey. We only came to give Onestar a chance to explain himself.”

Brackenfur didn’t respond. “Don’t you think they seemed thin?” he wondered out loud.

“WindClan cats are always thin.” And yet, thinking back, Hollypaw realized he was right: The three WindClan warriors had seemed even skinnier than usual.

Brambleclaw glanced back at Brackenfur. “Could they be in trouble?”

“It would explain why they turned us back,” Sandstorm meowed.

“They didn’t want us to see how weak the Clan was,” Brambleclaw guessed.

Hollypaw remembered the absence of rabbit scent and birds. “But what’s happened to all their prey?” No other Clan was fast enough to steal rabbits from WindClan territory.

Brackenfur tipped his head toward the sheep and dogs mewling and barking on the distant slope. “Perhaps they scared the rabbits and birds away.”

Hollypaw felt her belly tighten. “That doesn’t mean WindClan can steal our prey.” Things couldn’t change. There had to be four Clans around the lake. If WindClan’s territory couldn’t support them, what would happen to the other boundaries?

As soon as they reached camp, Brambleclaw and Sandstorm leaped up to Highledge to report what they’d found.

Hollypaw spotted Lionpaw, tail-down at the edge of the clearing. A large wad of tatty moss hung from his jaws, and scraps clung to his pelt.

“You’re not still cleaning out the elders’ den, are you?” she mewed.

Lionpaw spat out the moss. “I finished that ages ago,” he snapped. “I’m doing the nursery now.”

“Let me help you,” Hollypaw offered.

“I thought you were too busy going on border patrols.”

Hollypaw flicked her brother’s ear with her tail. “Don’t be grumpy! I’ve cleaned out my fair share of nests.”

“I guess.” Lionpaw grunted.

“Let’s get this dirty moss out of the camp and gather some fresh.” She picked up a mouthful of the old moss and padded out through the thorn tunnel. Stopping at a bramble bush not far from the entrance, she dropped it.

Lionpaw flung his wad down beside hers. “I’m sick of moss!”

“We’ll be finished in no time,” Hollypaw soothed. “Look!

There’s fresh moss between the roots of that tree.”

Lionpaw joined her as she began clawing pawfuls of soft, green moss away from the rough bark.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Hollypaw mewed.

Lionpaw sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been in a foul mood since you left. I’m no better than a jealous kit.”

“Well, ask now,” Hollypaw prompted. She was dying to share her news.

“Okay. What happened?” Lionpaw peeled a long strip of moss and let it dangle from his claw.

“Ashfoot turned us back before we got anywhere near the camp.”

Lionpaw dropped the moss. “Turned you back?”

“We didn’t even get a chance to explain,” Hollypaw told him. “They accused us of coming to steal prey.”

“But they’ve been stealing our prey!” Lionpaw was furious.

“I know!” Hollypaw clawed a lump of moss from the root and flung it onto the pile. “But I think we found out why they’re doing it.”

“Who cares why?”

Hollypaw ignored his comment. “Their own prey has disappeared.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“But at least we know what’s wrong now.” We can solve the problem before it spoils everything.

“I hope Firestar sends a patrol to teach them a lesson.”

Hollypaw fought the urge to agree. She must think logically. WindClan had to be stopped from stealing prey, but not weakened. There had to be four strong Clans. “Firestar doesn’t think we should attack them,” she mewed. “He’s just going to post more border patrols.”

Lionpaw lashed his tail. “We’ve done that before. This time we need to show them once and for all that they can’t hunt on our land.” He glared at her so fiercely that Hollypaw found herself leaning away.

“Do you want a battle?” She gasped. Was he even thinking about Clan boundaries?

“Don’t you?”

“I want WindClan to keep to their own territory,” Hollypaw replied. “Boundaries are boundaries.” And if they disappear, what will become of the Clans? Would the warrior code disappear next?

Hollypaw’s pads prickled with fear.

Lionpaw turned away and dug his claws into a fresh patch of moss. The bark shredded beneath it and filled the moss with splinters.

That moss will be used for newborn kits! Hollypaw stared at him, shocked by his recklessness. She could tell by the muscles flexing beneath his pelt that he was thinking of battle, not kits.

Was this what power meant to him? The need to fight for the smallest reason?

Hollypaw shivered. If it did, would any cat be able to stop him?