Chapter 14

Ivypaw shivered. A chilly wind had stripped the flowers from the meadow and driven pale gray clouds across the sky. The ground trembled beneath her paws. The horses were running, crowding along the edge of the meadow, their eyes wild and their ears flat back.

Where was Hawkfrost?

Ivypaw felt nervous. She didn’t want to be alone in the wide pasture today. The breeze was moaning across the dull, dry grass, ruffling her fur the wrong way.

There! A dark rump showed above the grass, thick, bushed tail flicking.

She scampered toward the RiverClan warrior.

“You’re here!” she puffed, relieved when he turned and fixed his familiar dark blue gaze on her. “I thought you weren’t coming! I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

Hawkfrost sat up and gazed at her lazily through half-closed eyes. “Lucky you found me today, then.”

“Teach me something new!” she begged. Cinderheart was already impressed by the progress she had made in training; she wanted to please her mentor again today when they practiced battle moves.

Hawkfrost yawned, hunching his shoulders as he stretched his spine.

“Just one battle move,” Ivypaw pleaded.

“Haven’t I given you enough to practice already?”

“I’ve practiced it all. Now I need something new.” Ivypaw widened her eyes hopefully. “Please!”

Wearily, Hawkfrost stood up. “Do you pester your Clanmates this much?” he murmured.

“They don’t teach me such interesting stuff,” Ivypaw mewed.

“Watch carefully.” Hawkfrost lunged for her, hooking her hind legs under her and rolling her over with his forepaw till she found herself splayed on her back.

“Wow!” she squeaked, springing to her paws. “Let me try it.”

She leaped at Hawkfrost, curling a paw around his hind legs and tugging.

Nothing happened. The broad-shouldered warrior turned his head to look back at her. “Have you started?”

Frustrated, Ivypaw backed away and tried again.

Still, the RiverClan warrior didn’t budge.

Ivypaw put her head to one side. “How did you do that, exactly?”

“Run your paw along my hind legs,” Hawkfrost ordered. “Can you feel the tendon along the back of the joint?”

Ivypaw felt a tough cord behind the crook of his legs, like a stretched mousetail.

“Aim there,” Hawkfrost told her. “A sharp jab. Try to hit both legs at once.”

Excited, Ivypaw crouched down, fixing her gaze, then leaped. She brought her forepaws down hard, hitting the tendon, and Hawkfrost’s legs buckled beneath him. Seizing the advantage, she used her shoulders to shove him sideways. Unbalanced, he toppled over and she threw herself on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

“Good,” he grunted. He got to his paws, shaking her off. “But make more of your advantage. The surprise will last only a moment. You must use that moment. Try again.”

Ivypaw tried the move again, but this time swept his forepaws from under him too. Her teeth were at his exposed throat before he could recover himself.

He shoved her off with a hiss. “Not bad.”

Pride rippled through her pelt.

“We might make something of you after all,” he conceded.

She lifted her chin. “Of course!”

A shadow rippled through the grass some distance away. Ivypaw jerked her head to look at it and saw eyes glinting at her. Some cat was watching. She stiffened. “Who’s that?” As she spoke, the cat ducked lower in the grass and slunk away.

Hawkfrost shrugged. “I mentioned you to a couple of friends,” he meowed. “It was probably one of them. No doubt he wanted to see the apprentice who keeps badgering me for extra training.”

Ivypaw tossed her head. “He probably wanted to learn from me.”

“Yeah, right.” Hawkfrost cuffed her softly over the ear. “Come on, try that move again. See if you can do it twice.”

“Okay!” Ivypaw crouched down. “I want to get it perfect before I show Dovepaw.”

Hawkfrost blinked. “Who’s Dovepaw?”

“My sister.” Ivypaw wriggled her hindquarters, ready to pounce. “The one I told you about. Remember?”

She sprang up, hitting the tendon harder this time, feeling a surge of triumph as the broad-shouldered warrior crumpled and she rolled him to the ground.

Sitting back on her haunches, she wiped a paw over her whiskers while she got her breath back. “All the senior warriors think Dovepaw’s the best apprentice ever.” She shrugged. “They’re always asking her stuff, like she knows something no other cat does.”

Hawkfrost sat down and lapped at his chest. “And does she?” he asked between licks.

“There’s something she’s not telling me, but I can’t figure out what it is.” Ivypaw cocked her head. “I just wish she wouldn’t act like she’s so special. She’s always got her ears pricked like she’s on guard: like no one else in the Clan can keep us safe.”

Hawkfrost finished grooming his chest and ran a claw across a clover leaf. The soft green tissue split and darkened beneath his touch. “Did you tell her about me?”

“I was going to,” Ivypaw mewed, irritation prickling as she remembered their interrupted conversation. “But I didn’t get a chance.” She sniffed. “Now I don’t want to tell her.” The tip of her tail twitched. “Why should I? She has her secrets, so I’ll have mine.”

Hawkfrost plucked at another leaf. “Probably a good idea. It sounds like…” He paused. “Dovepaw—is that her name?”

Ivypaw nodded.

“It sounds like Dovepaw would get jealous and want to learn all your moves.”

Ivypaw unsheathed her claws.

“She’s your littermate,” Hawkfrost pressed. “Not your echo, right?”

“Right!” Ivypaw declared. “Why should I give her the chance to copy me?”

Hawkfrost stretched his hind legs. “No more echoes. Let’s try something new.”

Ivypaw woke up. Her shoulders were stiff. She wriggled them into the soft moss of her nest, wondering if she’d slept awkwardly. Then she remembered: Hawkfrost had worked her hard, until her muscles ached. She sat up, surprised. Wow! What a vivid dream!

Dovepaw was snoring. Curled in her nest, her eyes closed, the gray apprentice looked small and fluffy. Far more like the innocent kit she had been than the knowing apprentice she pretended to be now. With a surge of affection, Ivypaw longed to tell Dovepaw about her dream, just like they used to when they shared a nest in the nursery with Whitewing.

No. Ivypaw pushed away her nostalgia. Dovepaw had a secret. I’m going to have one too. It was probably a far better secret than Dovepaw’s anyway. She was being trained by a StarClan warrior! She was going to be the best warrior ever. She’d be even better than Lionblaze!

“Ivypaw!” Cinderheart’s mew rang through the wall of the den.

Ivypaw crept out into the cold, gray dawn. Blossomfall and Bumblestripe were stretching in their makeshift nests beneath the arching bough of the beech. Cinderheart beckoned them over with her tail.

“You three will be training together today,” she announced.

Blossomfall sat down, yawning. “You want us to train Ivypaw?”

Cinderheart shook her head. “You will be training together.”

“We’re not apprentices!” Bumblestripe shook out his fur, fluffing it against the cold air.

Cinderheart’s gaze flashed to the slope of rocks. Firestar was leaping down into the clearing.

Blossomfall rolled her eyes. “Let me guess,” she grumbled. “A new idea about training.”

Ivypaw could hear Thornclaw’s irritated sigh echoing in her mew. Blossomfall was obviously quoting her denmate.

Firestar halted beside them. “There’s nothing wrong with trying something new,” he meowed.

Blossomfall looked at her paws. “I guess.”

Firestar straightened his tail in the air. “We don’t want the Clan getting stale. And there’s no harm in warriors practicing their skills. Would you rather we started battles to keep our paws nimble?”

“I suppose not,” Blossomfall conceded.

Ivypaw glanced at the apprentices’ den. “What about Dovepaw? Will she be training with us?”

Cinderheart shook her head. “She’ll be training with Lionblaze.”

“Of course.” Ivypaw’s fur pricked along her spine. “Why should she train with ordinary warriors?”

“Pardon?” Cinderheart pricked her ears.

“Nothing,” Ivypaw mewed quickly. She felt hot as she noticed Firestar staring at her. “I just don’t get to train with her much these days.”

Dustpelt, Birchfall, and Leafpool were stirring in their nests beneath the fallen tree.

“I hear Firestar put you in charge today, Cinderheart.” Dustpelt yawned, padding under the snaking branch. “Are we ready to go?”

Birchfall and Leafpool followed him, neither looking excited at the prospect of a training session.

“Yes, we’re ready,” Cinderheart meowed. “Come on; follow me.”

They stopped in a clearing where bracken edged a leafy patch of forest floor. Leafpool flicked her tail restlessly as Cinderheart weaved between the warriors. Ivypaw circled Bumblestripe and sat down.

“It’s weird training with senior warriors,” she whispered in his ear.

“It’s certainly different.” The young warrior’s eyes were bright. “I wonder if we’ll be able to beat them?”

“Maybe.” Ivypaw stretched her claws. The run through the forest had warmed her up and loosened the stiff muscles in her shoulders. She was ready to try out some of Hawkfrost’s moves.

“Now,” Cinderheart began, “we’re going to set up a mock battle.” She flicked her tail toward the hazel bush at one end of the clearing, then at the clump of ferns at the other. “I’m going to split us into two patrols.” She nodded to Dustpelt. “You lead Leafpool, Blossomfall, and Ivypaw. I’ll lead Bumblestripe, Hazeltail, and Birchfall. If that’s okay with you, Birchfall?” The tawny tom dipped his head to the younger warrior. “We’ll try to take the hazel. You”—she nodded again at Dustpelt—“try to take the ferns.”

Ivypaw padded after Bumblestripe into the center of the clearing. She crouched beside him, preparing for the attack, while Leafpool and Dustpelt flanked them. Cinderheart’s patrol lined up opposite, so close that their whiskers almost touched.

Bumblestripe narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the hazel bush a tree-length behind his opponents. Hazeltail and Birchfall pressed their bellies to the earth.

“Remember,” Cinderheart ordered, “claws sheathed. We’re not ShadowClan.”

The warriors nodded and Ivypaw quickly curled her claws away beneath the soft fur of her white paws.

“Go!”

At Cinderheart’s command, Ivypaw rolled over. She heard Cinderheart’s paws thump the ground where she’d been.

“Nice!” Cinderheart’s praise was cut short as Leafpool bowled the gray she-cat over and bundled her with flailing paws to the end of the clearing.

Ivypaw jerked around, ready for an attack. Bumblestripe was wrestling with Blossomfall.

Blossomfall wriggled from his grasp. “Don’t forget I learned all your moves before you were out of the nursery.”

“Bet you don’t remember this one.” Bumblestripe jumped in the air and landed, belly first, flat on her spine.

Blossomfall collapsed, her legs crumpling beneath her. “Hey! That’s unfair. That’s a kit move!”

“But it still works,” Bumblestripe teased, refusing to budge as Blossomfall struggled underneath him.

Ivypaw stiffened. Birchfall was streaking toward the fern clump. If he reached it, his patrol would win. She raced after him, spraying dirt with her hind legs. He was nearly at the ferns. She pounced. Reaching out, she jabbed his hind legs, aiming for the tendons. He stumbled and fell and she leaped onto his shoulders, fighting to cling on with unsheathed claws while he writhed beneath her.

With a fierce shove he flung her away and she landed heavily, the wind huffing from her. Narrowing her eyes, she sprang to her paws. She wasn’t going to let Hawkfrost down! Birchfall was on his paws but looking bewildered, his hind legs trembling. She dived underneath him, curving her body and hooking herself under his belly. With one paw on either side of her, she knocked a foreleg and hind leg out from under him. Then she darted out of the way before he collapsed.

Where was the rest of her patrol? She couldn’t defend the ferns without help. She scanned the clearing.

Leafpool was staring at her, her eyes wide. I bet she’s impressed with my moves, Ivypaw thought.

Leafpool blinked as Dustpelt blindsided her. Rolling over onto her side, the pale tabby warrior scrabbled to escape, but Dustpelt held her down and she could do nothing but lash her tail.

“I give up!” Leafpool yowled.

“You’ve lost anyway!” Cinderheart was standing beside the hazel bush. “I claim this bush for CinderClan!”

Birchfall was scrambling to his paws. He dipped his head to Ivypaw. “Good moves for an apprentice.”

Leafpool struggled out from under Dustpelt and padded across the clearing. “Yes,” she agreed. “Very nice moves. Where did you learn them?”

Ivypaw wasn’t going to give her secret away. “I k-kind of worked them out for myself.” Why shouldn’t her Clanmates think she was as talented as Dovepaw?

“That last one looked like a RiverClan move,” Dustpelt commented, padding over.

Ivypaw shrugged, making her eyes as round and innocent as she could. Dustpelt was wrong. It was a StarClan move!

“Whatever it looked like,” Birchfall meowed warmly, “it was a good one. I’ll remember to look out for it in the future.”

Leafpool was still staring at her quizzically. “Do it again,” she suggested. “We could all learn it.”

Ivypaw opened her mouth. “I—I don’t remember exactly what I did.” She didn’t want to share her secret moves with any cat. Nor did she want Dustpelt analyzing it any more. Leafpool already looked suspicious. They both might have known Hawkfrost when he was alive, and recognized his special technique.

Dustpelt flicked his tail. “Too bad.” He turned and called to Cinderheart, who was still proudly guarding her captured ferns. “Are you going to give us a chance to make it even?”

“Okay,” Cinderheart agreed. “But this time we start from the bracken. Your patrol on one side, ours on the other.”

Relieved that the attention had slipped away from her, Ivypaw followed Blossomfall, Leafpool, and Dustpelt into the bracken on one side of the clearing. She crouched among the brittle branches and peeped out into the clearing.

The bracken opposite trembled as Cinderheart’s patrol prepared for the attack.

“Blossomfall,” Dustpelt hissed. “You’re fast. I want you to race for the ferns while the rest of us stop them from reaching the hazel.”

Blossomfall dropped into a crouch with her haunches bunched underneath her.

“Ready?” Dustpelt whispered.

Before any of them could answer, the bracken on the far side of the clearing crashed apart and Cinderheart’s patrol pelted out.

“Go!” Dustpelt yowled.

Blossomfall dashed toward the ferns while Ivypaw hurtled out beside Dustpelt and Leafpool and raced to block the path to the hazel. Birchfall and Bumblestripe were already charging for it while Cinderheart and Hazeltail rushed to stop Blossomfall from reaching the ferns.

Blossomfall tried to zigzag out of their way, but Cinderheart and Hazeltail brought her down.

“Help her!” Dustpelt yowled to Leafpool. As Leafpool veered away, Ivypaw pelted beside Dustpelt, stretching her stride to match the warrior’s bound for bound. Bumblestripe was almost at the hazel.

You’re not winning again! Ivypaw sprang forward, stretching her forepaws to grasp Bumblestripe’s tail. She tugged it and he stumbled. She hauled herself close enough to nip his hind legs.

“Ow!” He flicked his haunches up out of the way, then spun and swung a clumsy paw at Ivypaw’s muzzle.

She ducked and swerved, hooking a forepaw around his and sending him crashing onto his side.

“Too easy!” she crowed, leaping on top of him.

He didn’t even struggle, but gazed up at her, his eyes dark with sadness.

“What’s up?” Surprised, she sat back on her haunches and let him clamber to his paws.

A yowl sounded behind them. Dustpelt was wrestling with Birchfall. But the battle could wait. Something was wrong with Bumblestripe.

“Are you okay?” Ivypaw prompted.

The warrior was staring sadly at the hazel bush. Was he just trying to trick her? Was he about to make a sudden dash for it? Ivypaw narrowed her eyes, tensing.

“Briarlight would have loved this,” Bumblestripe mewed quietly. Anger flashed in his gaze. “It’s just not fair!” he growled. “She was trying to help Longtail. Why did StarClan have to punish her?”

Ivypaw wished she had an answer. “Sometimes bad things happen.” The words felt lame on her tongue.

“Then what’s the point of StarClan?” Bumblestripe looked utterly defeated.

Ivypaw padded to his side and pressed her head against his shoulder. “Briarlight won’t let this beat her,” she murmured.

“No.” Bumblestripe sighed. “But it didn’t have to happen.”

Feeling her Clanmate’s grief in every shaking breath, Ivypaw imagined Dovepaw dragging herself around the hollow like half-dead fresh-kill. She understood Bumblestripe’s fury. It was so unfair.

“We won!”

Leafpool had captured the ferns. She pressed a frond beneath her paws while Hazeltail circled her, snorting. Cinderheart dipped her head in gracious defeat, then glanced over to Bumblestripe. Her eyes narrowed in puzzlement. She was clearly trying to guess why the two young cats were sitting so close.

Then she blinked and nodded.

She understood.

“Hey! You two!” Cinderheart turned to Dustpelt and Birchfall. The toms were still fighting. Dustpelt thrust Birchfall away with his powerful hind legs, but Birchfall landed on his paws and spun around, ready to attack again.

Cinderheart cleared her throat. “I hate to break it up,” she called. “But the battle’s over.”

Dustpelt and Birchfall halted and stared in surprise at the gray she-cat.

Birchfall sat down, the fur ruffling on his shoulders. “We were just practicing battle moves,” he meowed self-consciously.

“Yes,” Dustpelt agreed. “That’s what training’s all about, isn’t it?”

Cinderheart’s whiskers twitched. “And I suppose if we happen to enjoy it, StarClan won’t mind too much,” she teased.

The sun was lifting over the trees, brightening the sky. “Looks like it’ll be a good day for hunting,” Leafpool commented.

Cinderheart nodded. “Let’s get back to camp and see if Brambleclaw wants us to join a patrol.”

Dustpelt nodded. “The Clan needs fattening before leaf-bare.”

Birchfall led the way through the bracken and disappeared among the trees. Cinderheart, Blossomfall, and Dustpelt followed.

Bumblestripe drew away from Ivypaw, his pelt smooth where she’d pressed it. “Thanks,” he murmured. He hurried to catch up with his sister and fell in beside her.

Ivypaw followed, feeling left out as the two young warriors walked side by side, speaking softly to each other.

“Ivypaw.” Leafpool’s gentle mew made Ivypaw jump. The pale warrior had caught up to her and was padding at her side. Leaves crunched underpaw, golden as Brackenfur’s pelt.

“Those were pretty advanced moves,” Leafpool commented.

Ivypaw glanced sideways but the she-cat’s amber gaze was fixed on the path ahead.

“I guess I just did them accidentally.”

“Lucky,” Leafpool commented.

“I suppose.” Guilt itched in Ivypaw’s pelt.

“And you’re sure you couldn’t do them again?” Leafpool pressed.

Leave me alone! Ivypaw quickened her pace, irritated when Leafpool kept up. Every other cat in the Clan had secrets—including Leafpool. Why wasn’t she allowed to have her own?

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