Fading Echoes

Chapter 5

Dovepaw stretched her aching legs. Her nest rustled as she fidgeted. Her denmates were fast asleep. They’d dozed off by the time the moon had risen above the hollow, tired after their training.

But Dovepaw felt wide-awake. She’d seen Sedgewhisker limping back to camp, supported by her Clanmates. She could smell the blood crusting over Sedgewhisker’s wound, feel the heat pulsing from her swollen leg. She needed to know how badly injured her WindClan friend was!

“Are you okay?” Ivypaw peered over the rim of her nest. Her eyes were round with worry. “Did the fall hurt you?”

“No,” Dovepaw answered honestly. Only her pride had been hurt. Lionblaze was so bossy! And now he was trying to tell her how to use her power. He should respect her, like Jayfeather did, not treat her like some dumb apprentice.

Ivypaw sat up. “You’re not tired at all?”

Dovepaw flicked her tail. “No.”

“Come on.” Ivypaw stepped from her nest. Blossompaw was snoring again. “Let’s go into the forest.”

Dovepaw’s heart gave a jolt as hope flashed through it. She sat up. What was Ivypaw planning?

Briarpaw rolled onto her back, her paws folded in the air like a rabbit’s.

“We haven’t been out at night since you went to find the beavers.” Ivypaw tiptoed to the entrance and slid out. The low branches of the yew den slicked Dovepaw’s fur as she followed eagerly. The starlit clearing glowed like a pool in the center of the shadowy hollow. Dovepaw could smell the forest above, musty with the scent of leaf-fall, damp with night dew.

She cast her senses out past the thorn barrier and scented Rosepetal guarding the camp entrance, her paws shifting on the ground, her breath coming in billows.

“I know a secret way out,” she told Ivypaw.

“Through the dirtplace tunnel?” Ivypaw guessed.

“Better than that.” Dovepaw crept around the edge of the clearing, past the entrance to the medicine den. She squeezed through the tangle of brambles beside it until she reached the rock wall beyond. Stretching up through the twisted stems, she reached for a low ledge and hauled herself up.

“Are you coming?” she hissed down to Ivypaw.

Her sister’s silver-and-white pelt was flashing beneath the bramble. “Coming,” Ivypaw breathed.

Dovepaw jumped up to the next ledge, then the next, until the dens of the camp looked like small clumps of scrub below her. Fizzing with excitement, she scrambled over the lip of the cliff and onto soft grass.

Ivypaw bounded up after her. “How did you find out about that?”

“Lionblaze.” He’d told her in case she ever needed to escape camp without being seen. I bet he didn’t expect me to use it so soon, she thought with a glimmer of satisfaction. I make my own decisions.

A half-moon lit the treetops, filtering through the bare branches and striping the forest floor silver. Breathing the musty scents of the night-damp forest, Dovepaw scampered into the trees.

Ivypaw ran beside her. “I wonder if anyone else is out?”

Dovepaw cast her senses through the trees, feeling for signs of movement. The waves on the lakeshore murmured softly, like the lapping of her mother’s tongue against her fur. Beyond the border, a ShadowClan kit wailed, waking from a bad dream, and across the lake, on the far side of RiverClan territory, Twolegs yowled in their nest.

“Where should we go?” Ivypaw’s question jerked her back. “What about the old Twoleg nest? It’s really spooky. I bet you’re not brave enough!”

No. Dovepaw knew exactly where she wanted to go. She could sense Sedgewhisker stirring in her nest, her eyes flickering as though the pain in her leg wouldn’t let her rest. “Let’s go to the moorland.”

Ivypaw skidded to a halt. “WindClan territory?”

“Right to their camp.” Dovepaw paused beside her. She needed to make a challenge that Ivypaw couldn’t resist.

Her sister stared at her, whiskers quivering as though she’d scented prey. “To their camp?” she echoed breathlessly.

“I haven’t seen Whitetail or Sedgewhisker since I got back from upstream.”

Ivypaw’s tail drooped. “What do you want to see them for?” She sounded puzzled and hurt. “You don’t need friends in WindClan. You’ve got friends here.” She flicked her tail toward the hollow.

“But don’t you want to see if we can make it?” Dovepaw coaxed. She couldn’t explain Sedgewhisker’s injury without giving away her secret. “We can always say we were lost if we get caught. We’re only apprentices. No cat is going to think we’re trying to invade.” She had to see if Sedgewhisker was safe. Just because Lionblaze couldn’t care less doesn’t mean I have to. “Oh, come on,” she pleaded with Ivypaw.

Ivypaw narrowed her eyes, then nodded. “Okay.” She trotted away through the trees, heading toward the WindClan border. “If any WindClan cat catches us”—she ducked under a spreading yew bush—“we can say we were chasing a squirrel and hadn’t realized we’d crossed the border.”

Dovepaw’s belly brushed the ground as she scrabbled under the low branches. “They’d think we’re pretty stupid not to notice we’d run onto moorland,” she pointed out.

“Okay.” Ivypaw skidded down a bank. “We’ll say we were sleepwalking.”

“What, both of us?” Dovepaw wondered if her sister was taking this seriously enough.

“We can’t just tell them we’ve come to visit Whitetail and Sedgewhisker,” Ivypaw mewed.

Why not? They had been on the quest together. “We’ll just have to make sure we don’t get caught,” Dovepaw decided.

They were nearly out of the trees and Dovepaw could smell the moorland. She let her senses reach far out over the peat and heather, relieved that she could detect nothing but the soft breathing of cats tucked up in their nests in the WindClan camp. “I wonder what the camp looks like?” she mewed.

Ivypaw padded from the trees and halted at the top of a steep bank. The wind tugged her whiskers and she shivered. “I’m glad I’m not WindClan.” The border stream gurgled below them. “It must be weird to sleep out in the open.”

“They must have dens.”

“But no trees,” Ivypaw mewed. “Just the open sky.” She slid down the bank, pushing off with her hind legs as she reached the bottom and clearing the narrow waterway in one bound. She looked back at Dovepaw, who had paused on the bank. “Imagine what it must be like when it’s stormy.” She shuddered.

Dovepaw was staring across the moorland rising ahead of them like a giant sleeping cat beneath the pale night sky.

“Hurry up,” Ivypaw urged. “It’s spooky over here.”

Dovepaw bounded down the bank and over the stream. Wind rushed over the grass and heather, buffeting her like a flock of starlings. She shivered, remembering the journey upstream and the exposed territories they’d had to cross to find the beavers. “It was like this when we—” She stopped herself.

“What?”

Dovepaw shook her head. “Nothing.” Ivypaw was still upset that she hadn’t been allowed to go on the quest. No wonder she wasn’t interested in visiting Whitetail and Sedgewhisker.

Ivypaw scanned the moorland, her eyes wide and anxious. The tang of the WindClan scent markers tainted the air. “Do you suppose they have night patrols?”

Dovepaw pricked her ears, searching for WindClan patrols. A monster growled far in the distance and sheep mewled on the hillside, their greasy, pungent smell familiar from the quest, when she’d had to hide between their stinky, mudencrusted legs.

She shook away the memory. There was still no sign of cats roaming the moor. “Nothing,” she reassured Ivypaw. Worried that Ivypaw might wonder how she was so certain, she added, “With the wind blowing toward us, it’ll be easy to scent any patrols.”

Ivypaw’s mouth was already open, tasting the breeze. “Come on.” Her silver-and-white pelt glowed in the moonlight as she began to head up the slope, eyes half closed against the wind.

Dovepaw followed her across the scent line, anxiety yawning in her belly, not daring to speak now that they were on WindClan territory. They weaved up the slope, the wind whipping more fiercely at their fur. A sheep bellowed close by and they both jumped, scooting through a clump of gorse and ducking lower as they pressed on between the heather bushes.

Ivypaw slowed. “Are you sure you want to go right to their camp?” There was a quaver in her mew.

Dovepaw could scent the camp just over a rise in the ground ahead. She could hear the gentle breathing of cats in dens. An image of the camp took shape in her mind: stiff bushes sheltering hollows scooped in the sandy soil; a paw-scuffed clearing; a gorse-shadowed dip, rich with the tang of medicine herbs. “Just a little farther,” she pleaded. She could sense Sedgewhisker clearly. The pale tabby she-cat was lying in a den beside Whitetail. Their denmates surrounded them, a jumble of pelts, warm and sheltered from the wind. Only Sedgewhisker stirred. She kept sniffing gingerly at her wound.

It can’t be too bad if she’s not in the medicine den, Dovepaw reasoned. Still, worry pricked at her pelt. She had to be sure!

But how in the name of StarClan was she going to get Sedgewhisker’s attention without waking the rest of the den?

I’ll worry about that when we get there.

They crested the rise. The earth dipped in front of them, a wide hollow denting the moorland. It was ringed by a grassy slope, edged at the foot by a wall of scrubby bushes. A sandy clearing glowed at the center, just as Dovepaw had imagined.

“That’s it!” Dovepaw could hardly keep her excited mew to a whisper. “The camp!”

Ivypaw flicked her tail across her sister’s mouth. “I bet Bumblepaw or Briarpaw’d never do anything like this!” she breathed. “You’re not really going to look for Sedgewhisker and Whitetail, are you?”

“Of course!” Dovepaw began to slink down the slope.

“You can’t!” Ivypaw protested. “It’s too dangerous.”

Dovepaw glanced over her shoulder. “You can stay at the top if you want!” she hissed.

Ivypaw darted after her. “No way! If you’re going, then so am I! We’re in this together, right?”

Dovepaw knew exactly where the warriors’ den was and crept toward it, the moorland grass slippery beneath her pads.

Ivypaw pressed behind her, hardly breathing. “Is everyone asleep?”

Dovepaw’s tail twitched. “Nearly everyone.”

Ivypaw hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“It’s okay,” Dovepaw urged. “It’s just a guard. He won’t see us.” She could see the silhouette of a single warrior in the clearing, his shoulders bunched with tiredness, his back toward them as he scanned the opposite horizon.

Ivypaw stiffened when she saw him and ducked lower as they slithered into the shadows around the scrubby camp wall. They slid through a gap between the stems and tiptoed toward a wide tangle of shrubs. The warriors’ den.

Slipping into the darkness beneath the branches, Dovepaw felt a glimmer of relief.

Ivypaw was trembling beside her. “What do we do now?”

“Sedgewhisker is asleep just beyond the wall.” Dovepaw touched her tail against the spiny branches, sensing her friend only a tail-length away. “Sedgewhisker!” she hissed.

“What are you doing?” Ivypaw gasped.

Dovepaw ignored her sister’s protest. “Sedgewhisker!” she hissed louder.

Leaves rustled beyond the wall. Sedgewhisker had sat up.

“She’s coming!” Dovepaw whispered to Ivypaw. She could hear Sedgewhisker picking her way between the nests on three legs, her injured leg tucked protectively under her.

The pale tabby appeared beside them like a moonbeam in the darkness. “Great StarClan, Dovepaw! What are you doing here?”

Dovepaw tipped her head to one side. The WindClan warrior sounded cross, not overjoyed to see her old friend from the quest.

“Follow me!” Sedgewhisker hissed, and limped through the camp wall and up the grassy slope. She scrabbled over the top and crouched beyond the rise, wincing with pain.

Dovepaw and Ivypaw scooted after her.

“Are you okay?” Dovepaw looked anxiously at Sedgewhisker’s hind leg, which was swathed in cobweb and reeking of herbs.

Sedgewhisker was scowling. “Why did you come here?”

Dovepaw felt her ears flatten. Wasn’t she pleased they had come? “I-I was worried,” she stammered. “I heard a dog chasing you.” She didn’t dare say more in case she gave away her secret, but it seemed she had said too much already. A growl rumbled in Sedgewhisker’s throat.

“Have you been spying on us?” the WindClan warrior snapped.

Ivypaw swung her head to stare at Dovepaw, her eyes flashing with alarm and confusion. “You didn’t mention a dog!”

Sedgewhisker leaned closer. “How did you know about it?”

Dovepaw flinched away. “I-I heard it while I was training.”

Ivypaw blinked. “When? You didn’t say!”

Sedgewhisker was watching them through slitted eyes.

Dovepaw felt a stab of disappointment. “I was worried you were hurt, that’s all,” she muttered.

Sedgewhisker bristled. “We can take care of ourselves, you know. We don’t need a ThunderClan apprentice to watch out for us!”

A voice grumbled from the shadows outside the bush wall. “What’s going on? Who are you talking to, Sedgewhisker?”

Dovepaw and Ivypaw froze. There was nowhere to hide! Pawsteps padded up the slope toward them. Ivypaw unsheathed her claws while Dovepaw struggled to slow her breathing. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

A lithe ginger shape appeared above the edge of the hollow.

Weaselfur.

His gaze flicked over the two ThunderClan apprentices, and then Sedgewhisker. “What are you up to now?” he mewed wearily. “Haven’t you caused us enough trouble today, getting your patrol tangled up with that dog?”

Sedgewhisker bristled. “I was the only one hurt!”

Weaselfur looked back at the camp. “Invaders!” he called. There was no urgency in his yowl. “Why didn’t you alert the Clan?” he asked Sedgewhisker, hardly paying any attention to Dovepaw and Ivypaw.

“I was handling it,” Sedgewhisker growled.

Ivypaw straightened up, whiskers quivering. “We don’t need handling,” she mewed crossly.

“Hush!” Weaselfur turned on her, his hackles rising.

WindClan cats began streaming through the gaps in the scrub wall and swarmed up the bank.

A blue-eyed tabby she-cat circled them, tasting the air. “ThunderClan!”

“Is it an invasion?” A brown-and-white tom curled his lip.

A tabby tom lashed his tail. “I can’t smell any others.”

“They may have disguised their scent,” snarled a black she-cat.

“Do you really think they’re that clever, Nightcloud?” sneered the tabby.

Breezepelt slunk over the rise, his pelt bristling. “What are you doing here?” His eyes flashed with menace.

Dovepaw blinked hopefully as Onestar appeared and stepped in front of the young warrior. “Harespring!” The WindClan leader nodded to the brown-and-white tom. “Take Leaftail and Owlwhisker and search the area.”

The three warriors raced away, tails down, hackles up.

The blue-eyed tabby watched them leave, her claws kneading the grass. “Can I go too?”

“Calm down, Heathertail,” Onestar ordered. “They’ll call if they need backup.”

Dovepaw’s heart was racing. “We came alone.” She wrapped her tail around Ivypaw and tried to keep her chin high.

Onestar’s gaze was stern. “Why did you come?” he demanded. “Did Firestar send you?”

Dovepaw shook her head.

Sedgewhisker looked at her Clanmates. “She knew about the dog. She knew it chased us.” She flashed a look at Dovepaw. “Though it was nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Onestar widened his eyes. “How did you know?”

Dovepaw was ready for the question. “I heard it from the forest, while I was training.”

Heathertail growled. “How could you tell it was chasing our warriors?”

Dovepaw struggled for words. “I just…er…guessed,” she mewed at last.

“You guessed?” The WindClan leader sounded unconvinced. His Clanmates exchanged doubtful glances.

Breezepelt slid around his leader and glared at the two ThunderClan apprentices. “What else have you guessed about us?”

A small white she-cat appeared over the rise. Whitetail! She bristled when she spotted Dovepaw.

Dovepaw stared at the ground. She didn’t want Whitetail’s disapproval as well as Sedgewhisker’s. What had happened to the friendships they’d made?

Whitetail approached the two ThunderClan apprentices. “The quest is over,” she told Dovepaw. “You must respect boundaries. Your loyalty should be with your own Clan.” There was gentleness in her mew, as if she, at least, understood Dovepaw’s disappointment.

“Don’t they teach ThunderClan ’paws about scent markers?” A young WindClan apprentice was pacing angrily behind Whitetail, his lip curled.

“Of course they do,” Ivypaw replied hotly.

Onestar swept his tail over the heather. “Go back to your dens,” he ordered his Clanmates. “Heathertail and Breezepelt will take these foolish apprentices back where they belong.”

Dovepaw’s pelt flashed with heat. “We’re not foolish!”

Onestar gazed at her. “Then why are you here instead of tucked up in your nest?”

Dovepaw couldn’t meet his gaze. I thought my friends were in trouble! Anger and sadness squirmed in her belly. It was her stupid power’s fault that she’d heard the dog attack Sedgewhisker! She was only trying to be a good warrior. And a good friend. But it seemed friendship counted for nothing. She hung her head as Heathertail nudged her down the flank of the hill.

“Let’s get you home,” the blue-eyed warrior mewed.

Dovepaw shrugged her away and stomped through the heather. Ivypaw padded beside her. “At least they didn’t shred us,” she whispered.

Remorse stripped Dovepaw’s anger away. “I’m sorry I made you come.”

“You didn’t make me do anything!” Ivypaw answered indignantly.

The two WindClan warriors flanked them as they crossed the moor. No one spoke, but a low growl rumbled occasionally in Breezepelt’s throat.

Heathertail swung her head and glared at her Clanmate. “Will you stop making that noise!” she growled.

“Do you want to make them feel welcome?” Breezepelt snapped back.

“I think they got the message from Onestar,” Heathertail pointed out. “They don’t need you snarling at them all the way to the hollow. They’re just apprentices.”

“It’ll teach them not to do it again.”

“Just shut up!” Heathertail snorted. “No one died and made you leader.”

Breezepelt let out a hiss, then was quiet.

The four cats swished through the heather to the ThunderClan scent line, where the stream chattered through the gully dividing the two territories.

“We know the way from here,” Dovepaw told the WindClan warriors.

Heathertail gazed steadily at her. “We’re taking you back to your camp.”

“You can’t do that!” Ivypaw objected.

What would Firestar say if they brought WindClan cats to the heart of their territory? Dovepaw’s fur ruffled along her spine. But the WindClan cats looked determined. She and Ivypaw couldn’t fight them, and she wasn’t going to make this situation more humiliating by begging them not to come.

Breezepelt had already leaped the stream. Reluctantly, Dovepaw led her sister down the bank and jumped the gully. Heathertail bounded after them. With heavy paws, Dovepaw headed toward camp.

“Firestar’s going to kill us,” Ivypaw whispered in her ear.

Dovepaw didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t explain why she had taken Ivypaw to the WindClan camp without revealing her power. The whole Clan was going to think they were mouse-brained and reckless.

The WindClan cats padded ahead of them, weaving along tracks and through bushes as though they knew the forest well. Heathertail veered along a fox track that led them around a wide swath of brambles.

Ivypaw flicked her tail. “How do you know where you’re going?”

Without glancing over her shoulder, Heathertail replied, “We’ve been here before.”

“But—” Ivypaw began to protest.

“She said, we’ve been here before,” Breezepelt growled in a voice that put an abrupt end to the conversation.

As they neared the thorn barrier, Dovepaw scented Rosepetal bounding toward them. “What are you doing here?” she challenged the WindClan warriors, hackles raised.

Breezepelt halted. “This isn’t an attack.”

Heathertail stepped aside. “We’re just returning a couple of strays.”

Rosepetal stared at Ivypaw and Dovepaw in disbelief. “What are you doing out of the hollow? And with them?” She flicked her tail to the WindClan cats.

A cloud crossed the moon. Dovepaw was relieved by the sudden shadow. She stared at her paws, not knowing how to explain.

“We found them outside our camp,” Heathertail told the startled ThunderClan warrior.

Shifting her paws, Rosepetal stared levelly back at Heathertail. “Thank you for bringing them home,” she meowed. “I’ll take them back to their den.”

Breezepelt stepped forward. “We’re coming with them,” he told her. “I want to speak with Firestar.”

Rosepetal bristled. “He’s asleep.”

“So was WindClan before this pair woke us!” Heathertail growled.

Dovepaw felt herself shrivel inside her pelt.

Ivypaw’s tail drooped. “I didn’t think it could get worse.”

Breezepelt glared at her. “I don’t want any accusations that we took ThunderClan apprentices prisoner.”

Ivypaw bristled. “We wouldn’t lie!”

Rosepetal sighed and dipped her head. “Very well.” She turned and led the WindClan cats through the thorns.

Dovepaw trailed after, her heart quickening as she heard Rosepetal’s paws on the rock pile. She’s gone to wake Firestar.

Cats were stirring in their nests, den walls trembling as they got to their paws and slid out to see what was happening. The nursery shivered and tiny pawsteps pattered across the clearing. “What’s going on?” squeaked Cherrykit.

Poppyfrost’s nest rustled and the queen’s fur scraped the brambles as she followed her kit out of the nursery.

Dovepaw tried not to hear what any of the cats were saying. Her Clanmates were gathering to witness her humiliation. How could she explain? With a rush of frustration that tightened her throat, she wished fiercely that there were no such thing as the prophecy, and that she didn’t have any powers at all.

Why can’t I just be an ordinary cat?