Long Shadows

Chapter 20

As soon as Lionblaze had caught more prey, he headed back toward the old Twoleg nest. Dropping the fresh-kill in the tree trunk, he noticed that the rest of the catch he had brought earlier had disappeared, and some cat had scratched earth over the soggy leavings. Slightly reassured that the sick cats were back to their normal routine, he doubled back and headed deeper into the forest toward the entrance to the tunnel.

Fear raised every hair on his pelt, but Lionblaze quickened his pace until he was racing through the trees. He felt sick at the thought of going through the tunnels in the dark. He wanted to do it while there was still some chance of daylight.

He halted a few fox-lengths away from the tunnel mouth, glancing around warily with his ears pricked and his mouth open to pick up any trace of his Clanmates. No cat must know what he was about to do. This was his and Jaypaw’s secret, because the tunnels between the Clans represented nothing but invasion and bloodshed. To his relief, the only ThunderClan scent was stale; he guessed that the dawn patrol had passed this spot earlier in the day.

Flattening himself to the ground until his belly fur brushed the grass, Lionblaze crept through the undergrowth and into the tunnel. A couple of tail-lengths down he encountered the thorn barrier he and his Clanmates had put there after the battle, to stop WindClan coming back that way. By the time he had scrabbled his way through the obstacle he had scratched shoulders and pricked pads, and left tufts of golden fur on the thorns behind him.

StarClan, please don’t let any cat come here to check before I get back.

Darkness closed around Lionblaze as he walked along the passage. There was no sound except for his soft paw steps and rapid breathing, but his heart seemed to be thudding loudly enough to be heard in the WindClan camp. It wasn’t the WindClan warriors he was afraid of, though. If he met any of them, he would fight and take the consequences afterward when Onestar complained to Firestar. The vision of his dream was what scared him, and he seemed to smell the reek of Heatherpaw’s blood already.

At last Lionblaze realized that the darkness was giving way to a gray light. Ahead of him he could hear the sound of rushing water. Moments later he stepped out into the cave where the river flowed, its surface faintly reflecting the light from the gap in the roof. He glanced up at the ledge where Heatherpaw used to sit when she was Heatherstar, leader of DarkClan, but it was empty now.

Lionblaze felt a stabbing pain in his heart as if an enemy had sunk teeth into it. He couldn’t wish for those days to come back again, when he was lying to his Clan and losing so much sleep that he couldn’t train properly. He didn’t want to remember them, either, not after Heatherpaw had betrayed him.

He shook himself vigorously as if he was scattering raindrops from his pelt, then headed for the tunnel that led up into WindClan territory. Soon he saw the crack ahead of him, a shaft of daylight breaking through it. Beyond he could see more rock and tough moorland grass.

Lionblaze paused, alert again, this time for the sound or scent of WindClan. But all he could hear was the faint whine of the wind as it brushed through the grass, and there was no scent of WindClan cats at all. Padding forward, he dared to poke his head out of the tunnel.

The place was just as Jaypaw had described it: a tumble of rough, lichen-covered rocks, with wiry moorland grass growing between them. A spring of water welling up between two rocks…

Lionblaze’s ears pricked, and he made out the sound of a tiny trickle.

Checking once again for scent, he picked up a new trace of WindClan, but couldn’t see or hear any cats. Warily he emerged from the tunnel and crept toward the sound, pressing himself flat to the ground and taking advantage of all the cover the rocks offered him. Every hair on his pelt was bristling; he imagined his scent spreading all over WindClan territory, drawing every cat toward him, and the faint brush of his paws through the grass sounded as loud as an owl’s screech.

Lionblaze felt as if several moons had passed, but it was only a few moments before he crawled around the base of a rock and spotted the stream that Jaypaw had told him about.

It welled up from a crack into a tiny pool; huge clumps of catmint grew around it. He felt a pang of envy that another Clan had so much, when ThunderClan cats were dying for need of it.

Padding forward, Lionblaze buried his nose in one of the clumps, resisting the temptation to roll in the herb and soak his pelt in the clean, sharp scent. That wasn’t why he had come. Working quickly, he bit off the stems until he had a massive bundle, as much as he could carry.

Gathering the herbs into his jaws, Lionblaze headed back to the tunnel. The catmint drowned any other scent, but he kept his ears pricked, and his gaze flickered all around him, alert for rival warriors.

He saw no cat. Slipping back through the crack into the tunnel, he relaxed, thankful to be away from the risk of the accusing gaze of WindClan cats.

Quickening his pace, Lionblaze bounded along as the tunnel grew wider, to halt abruptly when he burst into the cave.

Standing in front of him, her light brown tabby pelt bristling and her blue eyes blazing, was Heatherpaw.

“Thief!”

Lionblaze’s jaws dropped open, letting the catmint fall.

“Heatherpaw!”

“Heather tail,” the she-cat snarled. “You thought you’d got away with it,” she went on, her voice scathing. “But I spotted you, creeping among the rocks. I guessed you would use the tunnels to get back to your own territory.”

“Then… then why didn’t you call for a patrol?” Lionblaze stammered.

Heathertail’s eyes flashed and her lip curled. “You’re not worth it. You may think that you’re the best fighter in all the Clans, but you don’t scare me.”

The red glare of blood surged through Lionblaze’s mind, filling his eyes. “Traitor!” he yowled, leaping for Heathertail with his paws outstretched. He could feel his claws slicing through her throat, and the blood pouring out, soaking her fur and his own, pooling out on the cave floor. A rasping sound of horror came from his throat. The blood was hot and thick on his fur, the reek of it choking his nose.

Then as the red tide ebbed he saw Heathertail watching him, her fur unruffled and her gaze icy. Lionblaze shuddered.

The vision had been so real, and yet he hadn’t moved a paw.

Heathertail padded past him and paused in the mouth of the tunnel that led up into WindClan. “Go, and don’t come back,” she hissed. “You can take the catmint. I’ve no quarrel with ThunderClan; I don’t want to see cats suffer, whatever you might think. Just be careful you don’t end up a bully like your kin, Tigerstar.”

Flicking her tail disdainfully, she vanished into the tunnel.

As he gathered up the scattered stems of catmint, her parting words echoed in Lionblaze’s mind, and his belly churned with fear that they might be true. His dream had nearly come true—he had nearly killed her—and Heathertail had known.

The difference between him and Tigerstar was fading, and Lionblaze was more scared than he had ever been in his life.