Night Whispers

Chapter 15

Ivypaw opened her eyes. Mouse dung! It was night, and she was still in the apprentices’ den. She wanted to be in the Dark Forest. She wanted to perfect the complicated move that Hawkfrost had shown her last night. She pricked her ears.

Silence. Dovepaw wasn’t in her nest.

Ivypaw sighed and rolled over. Did Dovepaw think no one was going to notice her disappearing night after night, returning just before the dawn patrol and pretending to wake in her nest as though she’d never been gone?

I know what you’re up to. Ivypaw tucked her nose under her tail. You’re sneaking off to practice by yourself in the woods. You’ve realized that I’m better than you, and you don’t like it.

It was Dovepaw’s turn to play catch-up, for a change.

Ivypaw closed her eyes and pictured Mapleshade’s move. If I put a hind paw there and a forepaw there… Her thoughts drifted into a dream.

“Get back, Thornclaw! You might get hurt.” She growled at her Clanmate and turned to face the ShadowClan patrol alone. With a single paw, she sent Oakfur flying over her shoulder, then lunged at Smokefoot, kicking out with her hind legs to scratch Crowfrost’s snapping muzzle.

Pain tore through her dream as two spiked paws gripped her shoulders. The ShadowClan warriors vanished from her thoughts. This enemy wasn’t imagined. The sting of claws in her flesh was real. Ivypaw swallowed a wail of pain as they hooked her pelt and flung her to the ground.

“That’ll teach you to pay attention!”

Thistleclaw’s rancid breath hit her nose. The Dark Forest swam into focus. With her muzzle pressed into the dank earth, she could just make out the shadowy trunks through the hanging mist.

“Get off me!” she screeched.

“I don’t know if begging works on the battlefield.” Thistleclaw dug his claws deeper into her neck.

Panicking, Ivypaw flapped her hind legs. Her paws hit something solid. It must be a root. She pushed against it, thrusting herself forward. Thistleclaw flinched, gasping. In a moment she was on her paws and rearing up at the tabby warrior, claws unsheathed, a snarl curling her lip.

“Very good.” Hawkfrost’s approving growl echoed nearby.

Ivypaw glanced sideways as he stalked from the trees. Suddenly she didn’t care about the stinging of her neck or the welling of blood on her fur. Hawkfrost had praised her.

Thistleclaw hissed at her, his back arched and his teeth bared. “You’ll be watching for me next time,” he snarled.

Ivypaw met his stare. “You might want to start watching for me,” she spat. “I won’t be an apprentice forever.” Her gaze darted back to Hawkfrost. “He’s always picking on the apprentices,” she hissed. “Why don’t you give him one of his own so he might leave the rest of us alone?”

Hawkfrost’s eyes glinted. “Do you want me to give him you?”

Ivypaw lashed her tail. At that moment, she felt ready to take on anything. “If you want. But then you’d have to find a new apprentice and start from scratch.”

Amusement lit the tabby warrior’s eyes. “I guess I would,” he conceded.

“I used to have my own apprentice,” Thistleclaw muttered. “She didn’t pass the final assessment.”

In spite of her burst of confidence, Ivypaw shivered. Something in his tone suggested that failing to pass the assessment meant something more final than trying again after more training.

“Come on, ’paw.” Hawkfrost dismissed Thistleclaw with a curt nod and turned his attention to Ivypaw. “We’re practicing water fighting tonight.”

“Why?” Ivypaw asked as she followed him between the trees. “I’m not a RiverClan cat.”

“But you may fight one someday.” Hawkfrost flicked his tail. “Hurry up. They’re waiting on the shore.”

Ivypaw caught sight of pelts through the trees. Antpelt sat with his tail curled over his paws. Beside him was Shredtail. Hollowpaw, a RiverClan apprentice she recognized from Gatherings, paced beside Snowtuft. Ivypaw looked for the river but saw nothing beyond the warriors except shadow. She pricked her ears but only heard the wind whining softly through bare branches. “Where’s the river?”

Hawkfrost halted as he reached the other cats. “There.”

Ivypaw stared at the flood of dark liquid sliding silently past them. “That’s a river?”

A strange sickly stench rose from it. Hollowpaw wrinkled his nose. “It’s the best they’ve got.”

“This should be funny.” Antpelt scowled at Ivypaw. “I’ve never seen a ThunderClan cat get wet.”

“And I suppose WindClan is always splashing around in the lake,” she shot back. She glanced through the trees. “Is Tigerheart here?” She kept her tone casual. She didn’t want anyone to guess how much she wanted to see the ShadowClan warrior. The thought of getting her pelt wet, especially in that sludgy river, woke butterflies in her belly. She felt safer around Tigerheart. Like the time when they’d trained on the tree trunk and Thistleclaw had knocked Sparrowfeather to the ground.

She frowned, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t seen Sparrowfeather since.

Hawkfrost strode to the riverbank. “Are you ready?”

Ivypaw stiffened.

“Before we try it in the water, I’ll show you what we’re going to practice.” Hawkfrost beckoned Antpelt to step forward.

The WindClan warrior lifted his chin and stood stiffly in front of the dark-furred tom. With a quick, low lunge, Hawkfrost knocked Antpelt’s hind legs out from under him. Antpelt stumbled and scrabbled back onto all four paws.

A shadow slid from the trees. “Easy to recover on dry land.” It was Darkstripe. “But in running water, it’s not so easy to regain your balance.”

Ivypaw’s fur pricked. She didn’t like Darkstripe. There was something sly about the skinny black-and-silver warrior that made her nervous. He’d once bitten Tigerheart after they had finished a training match, and then denied it.

Hawkfrost greeted Darkstripe with a brisk nod and went on. “When you’re in the water, it’s best to keep your claws tucked in. It may feel more natural to try and grip the riverbed, but loose stones rolled by the current may catch a claw and rip it out.”

Ivypaw shuddered.

Hawkfrost flicked his tail. “Antpelt, try the move out on Shredtail in the water.”

Antpelt padded tentatively into the thick, slow-flowing river. He waded up to his belly, then farther, until the water reached his shoulders. It slapped against him, making a sound unlike any water Ivypaw had heard before.

“Snowtuft, you work with Hollowpaw,” Hawkfrost ordered.

Snowtuft nodded, eyes glinting in the half-light.

Hollowpaw waded in. “This isn’t water!” he grumbled. “It’s too slimy.”

Snowtuft shoved the RiverClan apprentice with his muzzle. Hollowpaw stumbled, losing his footing. His shoulders dipped blow the surface as he struggled to find his paws, but he kept his nose high and clear of the dark water.

Ivypaw scanned the forest, wishing Tigerheart would come. She hadn’t seen the young ShadowClan warrior for several nights. Had he been training in a different part of the forest?

Darkstripe blocked her view. “I’ll partner with Ivypaw if you like, Hawkfrost.” He shrugged. “Since you’re supervising.”

Ivypaw straightened and lifted her chin. “Okay.” She waded into the shallows, hoping the cold water would soothe the stinging scratches on her neck. She was dismayed to find it flowing warm and thick around her legs, tugging at her fur like invisible weeds. She grimaced as she headed deeper, trying to glimpse the riverbed through the murky water.

Darkstripe slid through the water beside her. “Come on, slow slug.”

Ivypaw pushed on, shuddering as the slimy water seeped through her pelt and touched her flesh. It rose up past her belly and swallowed her shoulders. She was straining every muscle now, fighting the current to stay standing. She wished she were taller. Darkstripe’s spine was hardly covered, while she struggled to keep her head above water.

Suddenly a stone rocked beneath her paws, and she slipped. The water sucked her under before she could take a breath. Paws churning, Ivypaw panicked.

It’s not that deep, she told herself sharply, and struck out, finding the riverbed with her paws. Her head broke the surface, whiskers dripping, eyes streaming. She spat out the water she’d nearly swallowed. It tasted rank, like crow-food but worse.

Darkstripe watched her, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I can see you’re no RiverClan cat,” he meowed smoothly.

“And I wouldn’t want to be!” Ivypaw’s defiant reply was ruined as she lost her footing again and slipped under the water once more. She struggled, reaching for the bottom, but a lithe shape slid beneath her and knocked her hind legs from under her just as Hawkfrost had demonstrated.

Darkstripe! He’d started the training before she’d had a chance to take a breath.

Ivypaw rolled in the current and floundered with her paws flailing. She fought the urge to breathe in, but her lungs ached for air. Then a paw pressed down on her spine, and she was trapped on the bottom of the river. The water flowed over her. Panic swelled in her chest. She had to breathe. She tried to struggle, but Darkstripe pressed harder, pushing the last gasp of breath from her.

StarClan, help me!

A shadow moved beside her, just recognizable through the muddy water. It was the pale, sleek-furred belly of a RiverClan cat.

Hollowpaw!

The apprentice grabbed Ivypaw’s scruff and heaved her clear of Darkstripe’s paws. Through the murk, Ivypaw could make out the shadowy outline of the Dark Forest warrior fishing around the riverbed with swiping paws. Close beside her, Hollowpaw signaled toward Darkstripe’s hind legs with his muzzle, bubbles spilling from his nose. Ivypaw understood. Though her lungs screamed for air, her panic had faded. She could last a little longer. Together they turned and pulled themselves along the riverbed like a pair of otters and knocked Darkstripe’s hind paws out from beneath him.

As he collapsed into the water, Ivypaw shot skyward and broke the surface, gasping. Hollowpaw bobbed up next to her, and they shared a yowl of triumph. Downstream, the water splashed and frothed as Darkstripe struggled to find his footing.

As Darkstripe fought his way clumsily upstream to join them, Hollowpaw whispered to Ivypaw, “Stay clear of his paws.” Then the RiverClan apprentice swam back toward Snowtuft.

Ivypaw called innocently to Darkstripe, “Do you want to try the move out on me?”

The tabby warrior narrowed his eyes. Water dribbled from his chin. “Okay.” Was that wariness in his gaze?

Ivypaw leaned into the current, bracing her paws against a rock on the riverbed. She wasn’t going to cheat. She waited for Darkstripe to take a breath and prepared to feel his paws knock out her hind legs. As he pulled them out from under her, she darted forward like a fish, escaping his reach. She didn’t even go under.

Amazed that she felt so at ease in the warm, greasy water, she turned, ready to try the move again on Darkstripe. Utterly focused now, she swiped his paws from under him and swam clear in one clean, quick move. She felt a surge of pride. No other ThunderClan warrior was trained to fight in water.

Breaking the surface, she saw Hawkfrost beckoning the trainees from the bank with his thick, mackerel-striped tail. “Not bad,” he called as they padded, drenched, from the river.

Ivypaw shook out her pelt, not caring that she sprayed Darkstripe.

“Though I expected better of you, Darkstripe,” Hawkfrost sneered at the skinny warrior. “I would have thought you could hold your own against an untrained apprentice.”

Darkstripe snorted and slunk away into the trees.

“Ivypaw?” Tigerstar’s mew made her jump. She jerked around to see the dark warrior slide from the water and pad up the bank.

“All ThunderClan cats should learn to get their paws wet.” He shook out his pelt. “You had some nice moves there.”

Ivypaw dipped her head. “Thanks.”

“Have you seen Tigerheart?”

The question took her by surprise. “Me?” Did Tigerstar know that she always kept her eyes open for the young tom when she was in the forest? “No.”

“He’s late again,” he growled. “He’s been coming later and later every night. Is he sick?”

“I can ask at the next Gathering,” Ivypaw offered. Her ear twitched.

“I’ll track him down.” Tigerstar’s tone made Ivypaw shiver. Was Tigerheart in trouble for staying away?

Hawkfrost cleared his throat. “Time to leave.” Far away through the trees, beyond the edge of the Dark Forest, the sky was lightening. Ivypaw stifled a yawn as she turned and headed away from the river.

“See you tomorrow,” Hollowpaw whispered before vanishing into shadow.

The trees around Ivypaw melted into ferns, and she found herself curled in her nest. She could hear Dovepaw breathing.

She’s back.

But only in the last few moments. Her breathing was fast, as though she’d just settled down, and the scent of snow was fresh on her pelt. Ivypaw’s nose twitched. There was another scent in Dovepaw’s fur, too. A familiar one. Ivypaw tried to remember what it reminded her of, but her eyes were growing heavy. Exhausted, she slid into sleep.

“What’s this?” Whitewing’s shocked mew woke Ivypaw.

She jerked up her head. “What?”

“Blood!” Her mother’s eyes were round. “Blood in your nest.” The white warrior ducked down to sniff at the moss sticking out among the twigs and gasped. “It’s on you, too! Are you hurt?”

Ivypaw flinched away. “What are you doing in here?”

“The dawn patrol left ages ago, and neither of you was up, so I came in to wake you.”

Dovepaw climbed blearily out of her nest. “I guess we’ve been training hard.”

“Is that why there’s blood in your nest?” Whitewing was staring at Ivypaw, her eyes dark with worry.

The ferns rustled, and Bumblestripe poked his head in. “What’s all the noise?” he demanded.

“Get Jayfeather,” Whitewing ordered. “Ivypaw’s hurt.”

“No!” Ivypaw protested, “I’m fine.” But Bumblestripe had already gone.

Ivypaw felt hot under her fur. No one needed to know about the scratches Thistleclaw had left on her neck. She thought the river had washed them clean, but clearly they’d still been oozing when she’d returned from the Dark Forest. She glanced down at the moss. It was dark where blood had soaked it. Her gaze caught Dovepaw’s.

“It must be a thorn in the moss,” Ivypaw mewed quickly.

Come on, Dovepaw! Back me up.

Dovepaw shrugged. “Yeah, a thorn,” she mewed before pushing her way out of the den.

Thanks a lot! Ivypaw was fuming that Dovepaw had left her to calm down their mother by herself. “Maybe there’s a sharp stone in my nest.”

“Let me look.” Whitewing bundled Ivypaw out of the way and began sifting through the moss with her paws. “I can’t feel anything.”

Jayfeather nosed his way into the den, carrying a folded leaf. Bumblestripe and Cinderheart barged in after. Ivypaw backed away from her nest.

Jayfeather dropped the leaf at her paws and opened it. It was smeared with thick green ointment. “Let me check you over,” he ordered.

Ivypaw shuffled away. “It’s just a scratch.” He knows I visit the Dark Forest. He’ll guess this isn’t a thorn scratch.

Cinderheart was sniffing in Ivypaw’s nest. “All that blood from a thorn?”

“This might hurt a bit.” Jayfeather began smearing thick pulp onto Ivypaw’s scruff.

Please don’t tell. Fear throbbed harder than pain.

Jayfeather sighed. “It’s nothing too serious, but I can smell some infection.” He wiped another pawful of pulp from the leaf wrap. “You should be more careful.”

Ivypaw shrank under her pelt. There was an edge in his mew. He knew exactly where she’d gotten the wound.

“Will she be okay?” Cinderheart fretted.

Whitewing pushed closer. “Has the bleeding stopped?”

Go away! Ivypaw’s ears pounded. The cuts were stinging where Jayfeather was rubbing in ointment. Just leave me alone!

“She’ll live.” Jayfeather sat back on his haunches and refolded the leaf. “Come for fresh ointment tonight.” He picked up the leaf in his teeth and headed out of the den.

As he left, Dovepaw slid back in.

“Have you come to watch, too?” Ivypaw snapped.

Dovepaw leaned past Cinderheart into Ivypaw’s nest, rummaged for a moment, and then sat up. “Is this what you were looking for?” She spat a long thorn onto the ground.

Whitewing pawed it gingerly. “No wonder there was so much blood!”

Cinderheart frowned. “How did that get in there without you noticing?”

Ivypaw felt a flood of warmth for her sister. As Dovepaw stretched forward and sniffed at her wounds, Ivypaw whispered in her ear, “Thank you.”

Dovepaw grunted. “This isn’t over.” She pulled away.

“Come on.” Whitewing flicked Bumblestripe gently with her tail. “Let’s leave Ivypaw to rest.” She guided the young warrior out of the den. Dovepaw followed, her tail flicking as she disappeared through the ferns.

Cinderheart was staring anxiously at Ivypaw.

“What?” Ivypaw snapped.

Cinderheart sighed. “If those scratches are infected already, they must be deep.”

Ivypaw climbed into her nest. All she wanted to do now was sleep.

Cinderheart’s tail twitched. “You must be tired.” She touched Ivypaw’s head with a gentle paw. Ivypaw felt it tremble.

“Is anything wrong?” Cinderheart whispered, leaning closer. “You can tell me anything, I promise. Those wounds couldn’t have been caused by a thorn. You’d have been awake and out of your nest at the first prick.” She sat back and gazed at Ivypaw. “And a thorn wouldn’t have caused infection so quickly, no matter how deeply it scratched. Besides…” She peered at Ivypaw’s wounds. “Thorn scratches don’t rip at the flesh like that.”

Ivypaw had grown stiff as dead prey. What could she say? Her mind whirled while her body froze.

“Tell me the truth,” Cinderheart pressed quietly. “I won’t be angry. I just need to know how I can help you.”

Ivypaw took a deep breath. “I’ve been practicing at night.”

“Practicing?”

“I want to be the best ThunderClan warrior ever.” And I’m going to be!

“Oh.” The word escaped Cinderheart as a sigh. “I understand.” She sounded relieved. “Of course you want to be the best. And you’ve been out in the forest training by yourself.”

“Yes.” Ivypaw cringed. She hated lying to her mentor, who had done nothing but treat her fairly. It’s close to the truth, she told herself. “Dovepaw’s so good at everything. Everybody treats her like a warrior already. Firestar asks her for advice, and Lionblaze never does anything without her…”

Cinderheart stiffened. “You’re every bit as good as Dovepaw!” she hissed. “I couldn’t be prouder of you! If you want to do more training, we’ll fit it in during the day. You’re a growing cat; you need your rest.”

Ivypaw nodded dutifully.

“Will you promise me that you won’t go out again at night?” Cinderheart prompted. “There’s no one to look out for you when the Clan’s sleeping. Who knows what might happen? What if that fox came back?” Worry edged her mew. “You’re as good as any warrior. You don’t need to sneak around training in secret.” Cinderheart’s eyes burned into Ivypaw’s. “Promise me you won’t leave the camp at night again!”

Ivypaw stared at her paws, guilt pricking her belly. “I promise,” she muttered.