Sign Of The Moon

Chapter 5

Ivypool thought her paws might drop off as she stumbled into her den and flopped down on her nest of moss and bracken. “I’m glad that’s over! I could sleep for a moon.”

“But it was worth it,” Dovewing mewed as she curled herself around her sister. “We’re warriors!” As Ivypool pressed gratefully into her warm pelt, she added softly, “Don’t go to the Dark Forest tonight. You need to rest.”

I wish I had the choice, Ivypool thought wearily. Didn’t Dovewing understand that she couldn’t control her visits to the Place of No Stars? I’d give anything not to have to wake up there ever again. But she didn’t speak the words aloud. She didn’t want to make Dovewing even more worried about her safety.

Warmed by her sister’s fur, Ivypool drifted into sleep. When she opened her eyes she hoped for a heartbeat that she would see her familiar den around her, with sunlight filtering in through the grasses that overhung the entrance. Instead, she found herself surrounded by the pale, sickly light of the Dark Forest. She was crouching in the shadow of a clump of bracken, the dead gray fronds arching over her head. A narrow path wound through the undergrowth a tail-length in front of her paws.

Ivypool let out a sigh. I should have known.

Before she could move, she heard approaching meows and the sound of several cats brushing through undergrowth. Ivypool waited as the first of them burst into the open.

“Did you see the move Thistleclaw taught me?” Breezepelt boasted. “Wait till I get the chance to try it out on one of those ThunderClan mange-pelts!”

“Thistleclaw’s great.” His Clanmate Sunstrike followed Breezepelt into the open, along with a gray-and-white apprentice Ivypool didn’t recognize. “I can’t believe he was ever a ThunderClan cat!”

The WindClan cats raced past Ivypool without noticing her and vanished into the distance. Of course, it’s dawn, she thought. They’re going home. She was about to emerge from the clump of bracken when she heard the paw steps of more cats approaching, and picked up ShadowClan scent.

Tigerheart!

Ivypool stayed in the shadows as Tigerheart skirted a nearby bramble thicket and padded toward her. Ratscar and Applefur were with him. As he drew level, Tigerheart hung back, letting his Clanmates go on without him. He waited, nostrils flaring, until they were out of earshot.

“I can smell you,” he meowed at last. “So there’s no point hiding.”

Ivypool sprang out of the gray bracken clump and faced the tabby warrior. “I wasn’t hiding!” she retorted. “I only just got here.”

“And why are you here now?” Tigerheart asked icily. “Do you think you can avoid me if you come here at a different time? But it’s too late for that,” he went on before Ivypool could reply. “I know the truth about you. What would Dovepaw say if she knew that you were prepared to kill an innocent cat?”

For a heartbeat Ivypool froze at the terrible memory of how Brokenstar had tried to make her kill Flametail, wandering in unexpectedly from StarClan, as proof of her loyalty.

Would I have done it, if Tigerheart hadn’t interrupted?

“I had no choice—” she began.

Tigerheart lashed his tail. “There is always a choice,” he hissed.

Anger pulsed through Ivypool like a fire through dry grass. “You mean, like you had a choice about using my sister to find out about ThunderClan’s store of herbs? No wonder she doesn’t want to see you anymore!”

“I didn’t use her.” Tigerheart’s amber eyes grew shadowed. “But I don’t expect you to believe me.” He spun around and stalked after his Clanmates.

Ivypool watched him until he disappeared around a bend in the path, then turned and padded in the opposite direction. She had covered only a few fox-lengths when she rounded a clump of thornbushes and almost crashed into Thistleclaw.

“How good to see you,” the gray-white warrior purred. “So glad that you decided to join us after all, Ivypaw.”

“My name’s Ivypool,” she retorted with a flash of pride. “I’m a warrior now.”

“Not here, you’re not,” Thistleclaw told her. “Not until I say so.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “And that won’t be for a long time if you can’t be bothered to turn up on time for practice.”

“I’ve been keeping my vigil.” Ivypool kept her head up, though inwardly her belly fluttered.

“Follow me” was all he replied. Leaving the path, Thistleclaw led her through thick undergrowth until they came to a clearing overhung by gnarled oaks. In the middle of the clearing was a heap of fallen trees, covered by slimy moss. Pale fungus grew on the trunks, seeming to give off its own sickly light.

“Now—” Thistleclaw began.

He was interrupted by the sound of a cat pelting through the bracken; Ivypool picked up WindClan scent a heartbeat before Antpelt burst into view.

“Sorry, Thistleclaw!” he panted. “Onestar sent me on a moonlight patrol. I’ve only just gone to sleep.”

A chill crept through Ivypool’s pelt. Just like her, Antpelt had been awake all night. It was daylight in the waking world, with the pale sun of leaf-bare angling through the trees. But darkness still covered the Dark Forest.

Is it always night here? she wondered.

“I’ve got a new task for you,” Thistleclaw meowed, ignoring Antpelt’s apology. “See these fallen trees? You’re going to attack them, and you”—he swung around to Ivypool, his mottled gray-and-white muzzle a mouse-length from her face—“are going to defend. Antpelt, you’ve won if you can force Ivypool up to the top of the heap.”

Obeying a flick of Thistleclaw’s tail, Ivypool bounded onto the lowest tree trunk. A tingle of anticipation ran through her from ears to tail-tip. She was proud of her battle skills. I’ll show this WindClan warrior what ThunderClan cats are made of!

Antpelt leaped at her, his claws sheathed as if this was a Clan training session. Ivypool reared up, balancing briefly on her hind paws while she batted him over the ears with her forepaws, her own claws sheathed, too. Antpelt took a pace back, then dived at her again, trying to unbalance her by crashing into her side. Ivypool sidestepped neatly and raked a soft paw over his shoulder.

“What? Are you kits?” Thistleclaw snarled. “I said fight!”

Antpelt launched himself at Ivypool again. His claws were out this time and his teeth bared as he leaped on her and tried to grab her by the scruff. Pain clawed at Ivypool’s flank as she swiped at him; he was too close for her blows to count, and as she struggled to free herself Antpelt shoved her up onto the next log.

Thistleclaw let out a hiss. “Is this the sort of warrior ThunderClan is training now?” he jeered.

Furious, Ivypool hurled herself at Antpelt with an earsplitting screech. But as she leaped, her paw slipped on one of the pale patches of fungus and she fell clumsily sideways, the breath driven out of her as she landed on the lowest log. Ivypool braced herself for Antpelt to renew his attack, but when she looked up he had stepped to one side, waiting for her to get up and continue the fight.

Giving him a grateful nod, Ivypool struggled to her paws, but before she could attack again Thistleclaw leaped past her, his teeth bared in a snarl. Antpelt’s eyes stretched wide and he backed away from the furious warrior until he balanced precariously on top of the heap of trunks.

“Coward!” Thistleclaw taunted, lashing at him with one immense forepaw. “Show some courage, can’t you?”

Snarling, Antpelt leaped on the gray-white tom, sinking his teeth into Thistleclaw’s scruff and raking his claws across his shoulder. Thistleclaw threw him off like a dead leaf and pinned him against the logs. Antpelt battered at him with his hind paws, scattering tufts of Thistleclaw’s belly fur.

“That’s better!” Thistleclaw growled. “Now you’re fighting like a warrior!”

His powerful claws sank into Antpelt’s shoulders and he shook him like a fox. Ivypool watched in dismay as blood sprang into the WindClan warrior’s fur; the hot reek of it caught in her throat.

“Thistleclaw, that’s enough!” she yowled.

The warrior ignored her. Stretching out his neck he fastened his teeth in Antpelt’s scruff and tossed him down the heap, to land hard on the ground in front of Ivypool.

Antpelt was moving feebly, trying to rise to his paws, only to flop down again with a groan. Horrified, Ivypool crouched beside him, reaching out to part his fur and find out where the blood was coming from.

“Leave him!” Thistleclaw ordered from the top of the heap. “He lost the battle, that’s all.”

“But he’s hurt!” Ivypool protested.

“He’ll mend,” the warrior growled. He began pacing down the trunks toward the two young warriors.

Before he could reach them, Ivypool bent over Antpelt and whispered close to his ear, “Wake up! You’re not really here, you’re in your nest in WindClan.”

Thistleclaw’s paw steps were growing closer.

“Quick!” Ivypool hissed.

Antpelt replied with a whimper. Ivypool stroked her paw across his shoulder and to her relief he let out a long sigh and his eyes closed. As he sank into sleep, his shape quivered, then vanished, leaving nothing behind but a few clots of blood on the grass.

At the same moment, Thistleclaw sprang to the ground, his green eyes blazing with fury. “Coward!” he spat, glaring at the spot where Antpelt had vanished. “Is that why WindClan cats run so fast—so they can flee?”

“I always knew he was fox-hearted.” Ivypool was well aware that she had to agree with Thistleclaw. “Now I haven’t got any cat to practice with.”

“Oh, yes, you have.” Thistleclaw turned his gaze on her and swiped his tongue around his lips as if he was anticipating a particularly juicy piece of prey. “You can fight me.”

Ivypool’s heart began pounding so hard that she thought it would leap out of her jaws. “Okay,” she mewed, trying to sound eager.

Before she could take a breath, the warrior hurled himself at her, carrying her off her paws so that she landed with a thump on the ground, his weight on top of her. His claws lashed at her shoulders. Instinctively, Ivypool went limp. When she felt Thistleclaw relax she wriggled out from under him and aimed a couple of swift blows to his side before she sprang out of range.

Her head was spinning with weariness and her paws felt heavy as stones, but Thistleclaw’s hiss of annoyance gave her strength. As he swung around to attack her again, she crouched down, waiting for him, her tail lashing from side to side. When Thistleclaw leaped, Ivypool slid forward underneath his belly and came up behind him, clawing his hindquarters. His tail lashed across her face and she bit down on it hard, rejoicing to hear his yowl of pain. Yanking his tail free, Thistleclaw spun around on her faster than she would have thought possible. Through blurred, tired vision Ivypool watched him, trying to work out where he would spring. As he launched himself into the air she dodged aside, but he flung out one paw and batted her to the ground. Ivypool let out a screech as they rolled on the grass together, clawing at each other’s fur.

Pushing her head against Thistleclaw’s neck, Ivypool struggled to sink her teeth into his throat. With a grunt of effort he flung her off, and she slammed against the bottom of the log pile. Fighting for breath, Ivypool clawed her way upward, moss and fungus crumbling in her fur, until she stood on the topmost tree trunk.

“I win!” she yowled.

Thistleclaw scrambled to his paws and glared up at her. “The cat on top of the heap loses, mouse-brain,” he spat.

“But you didn’t force me up here,” Ivypool meowed triumphantly. “I climbed up myself. And I’m ready to leap down on you again—so I win!”

“I set the rules—” Thistleclaw began.

“The young one is right.” A growl interrupted him, and the shadowy form of Mapleshade stepped out from behind one of the old oaks. Ivypool wondered how long she had been standing there. “Admit defeat, Thistleclaw. Go lick your wounds.”

Thistleclaw let out a snort of disgust and spun around. As he stalked across the clearing and into the trees Ivypool was delighted to see that he was limping.

Mapleshade padded up to the bottom of the log pile and flicked her ears at Ivypool, a signal for her to descend. “I had my doubts about your loyalty,” Mapleshade rasped as Ivypool joined her. “But I’m starting to change my mind. When the battle comes, you will fight alongside me.”

“When will the battle be?” Ivypool asked, trying to sound eager in the hope that Mapleshade would give her some information she could take back to Jayfeather and Lionblaze.

“Not so fast,” Mapleshade murmured with a glint of approval in her eyes. “You may have beaten Thistleclaw, but you still have more to learn before you can take on the Clans’ most experienced warriors.”

“I just want to be ready,” Ivypool assured her.

“You will be,” Mapleshade promised. “And it won’t be long now…”

To Ivypool’s relief, Mapleshade gave her a nod of farewell and faded away into the trees. Weakened by fighting and loss of sleep, Ivypool slumped to the ground, feeling the Dark Forest fade around her as she closed her eyes.

The dusty tang of dry moss and her sister’s familiar scent tickled her nose. Letting out a long sigh, Ivypool opened her eyes. Dovewing was still asleep, lying close beside her with one paw flung over her belly. Careful not to wake her, Ivypool wriggled out from her sister’s grasp and limped out into the clearing. The sky was gray, but she guessed it must be close to sunhigh. Brackenfur, Sorreltail, and Spiderleg were gossiping beside the fresh-kill pile. Ferncloud was dozing in the entrance to the nursery while just outside the elders’ den Purdy was sitting beside Mousefur; Ivypool guessed the former loner was telling her one of his endless stories.

Brambleclaw emerged from the gorse tunnel with a squirrel dangling from his jaws, followed by Birchfall and Whitewing, both carrying mice. Rosepetal brought up the rear with a vole.

It’s all so peaceful, Ivypool thought.

But her mind was filled with images of the final battle: cats screeching, claws lashing, blood soaking into the earth floor of the hollow, cats lying dead with their pelts ripped off…

Is it up to me to prevent the battle? What if I can’t? Will I really be able to save my Clanmates?