The Sight wpot-1 Page 10

  “There’s no way I’m letting you wander off by yourself again,” Crowfeather insisted. “Whitetail, you take Heatherpaw and Breezepaw back to camp.” He laid his tail firmly on Jaypaw’s shoulder and began to guide him up the beach.

  “See your medicine cat as soon as you get home!” Whitetail called after him.

  Crowfeather hardly spoke as they trekked back into ThunderClan territory and headed toward the camp. He only meowed curt warnings when they came across rabbit holes or roots that might trip the ThunderClan apprentice.

  Jaypaw was content with the silence. The ground was unfamiliar, and he was too furious to concentrate on anything but Crowfeather’s occasional instructions. He resented Crowfeather’s tail resting lightly on his shoulder, but he did not complain. He was in far too much trouble already. Once again his attempt to prove he was as good as any other cat had ended in disaster.

  I know this place, he thought suddenly . The sloping earth beneath his paws was strewn with twigs. Trees rustled overhead. They were nearing the top of the hollow. Jaypaw’s heart sank. How was he going to explain why he wasn’t with Brightheart? What would his father say? He scented a ThunderClan patrol and realized that Squirrelflight, Stormfur, and Brook were heading straight for them. He tensed his shoulders.

  “Crowfeather?” Stormfur’s surprised mew sounded from the bracken ahead.

  Paws raced toward them. “Jaypaw!” Squirrelflight’s mew was shrill with relief and anger as she pressed her muzzle into his damp fur. “What in StarClan happened to you?” She licked him ferociously between the ears. “Where did you find him?” she asked Crowfeather.

  “He’d wandered into WindClan territory,” Crowfeather explained gruffly. “I had to fish him out of the lake.”

  Jaypaw bowed his head, his pelt burning with embarrassment. To make it worse, he could tell Squirrelflight was feeling an awkwardness that strengthened as Crowfeather went on. “Do your kits always go out by themselves?”

  “I’m not a kit; I’m an apprentice!” Jaypaw snapped. He felt his mother’s tail brush his muzzle, silencing him.

  “Crowfeather,” she meowed coolly, “I believe WindClan once had cats who went wandering farther than they should.”

  Her mew was laced with a meaning that Jaypaw didn’t understand. But Crowfeather clearly did. The WindClan warrior flicked his tail away from Jaypaw’s shoulders and snorted.

  “You should get him back to camp,” he meowed. “He almost drowned, and the water was freezing.”

  “Yes, I should,” Squirrelflight agreed. She nudged Jaypaw down the slope that led to the thorn barrier.

  To Jaypaw’s surprise, Crowfeather accompanied them back to the hollow. Squirrelflight did not question it, and Jaypaw sensed positive joy in Stormfur’s step as he padded alongside the WindClan warrior.

  Brook fell into step beside Jaypaw. “Do not be ashamed,”

  she purred in his ear. “I got up to far worse when I was still training.” She pressed her warm flank against his cold, wet pelt. He knew the mountain cat was trying to make him feel better, but it didn’t help.

  Suddenly he heard the thorn barrier rustle, and Mousepaw rushed out of the camp entrance. “You found him!” the

  apprentice called, delighted.

  Squirrelflight sighed. “Yes, we found him.”

  “Go and find Brightheart’s patrol and tell her to stop searching,” Stormfur told Mousepaw. “Ask Cloudtail if you can take Cinderpaw with you.”

  “Yes, Stormfur,” Mousepaw mewed, dashing back into the camp.

  Squirrelflight led the way through the tunnel. Jaypaw clenched his claws and followed her into camp.

  “Go straight to Leafpool,” Stormfur advised him softly.

  “I’ll come and see you once I’ve spoken to Brambleclaw,”

  Squirrelflight mewed. “He’ll want to know you’re safe.”

  Feeling lower than a worm’s belly, Jaypaw slunk toward the medicine cat’s den. Crowfeather padded after him. Jaypaw blinked in confusion. Was the WindClan warrior determined to follow him wherever he went? Surely Crowfeather had no business with ThunderClan’s medicine cat? But he wasn’t going to challenge the warrior. Instead he tried to sense what Crowfeather was feeling, but it was like trying to reach into a bramble bush—he could sense nothing but prickles.

  Leafpool spun around as Jaypaw padded through the entrance to her den. She hurried to his side, and he felt her relief like a blast of air. “You’re safe.”

  She tensed suddenly, jerking her head to stare at Crowfeather as he pushed his way through the brambles.

  Jaypaw’s fur pricked as tension set the air crackling like lightning in greenleaf.

  “Hello, Crowfeather,” Leafpool meowed. She sounded as though she had a burr caught in her throat.

  “Leafpool.” Crowfeather’s greeting was curt, but for the first time Jaypaw sensed some feeling other than irritation stir beneath the WindClan warrior’s pelt. “I was out with Breezepaw and his mentor when we found him.”

  Leafpool stiffened. “Your son’s an apprentice already?”

  Her mew was brittle.

  “He is,” Crowfeather replied, his voice strangely flat.

  “Jaypaw!” Hollypaw rushed up and rubbed her muzzle against his cheek. “You look half-drowned!”

  Tiredness suddenly swept through Jaypaw, and he let himself sink down to the ground.

  “Fetch some thyme, Hollypaw,” Leafpool ordered.

  Hollypaw darted away to the back of the den and returned a moment later, breathless and flustered, her jaws full of leaves. Jaypaw recognized the scent of feverfew, not thyme.

  “He hardly needs cooling down,” Leafpool meowed impatiently. She hurried to the herb piles herself and grabbed a mouthful of thyme.

  Crowfeather stood and watched silently.

  “And why am I giving him thyme?” Leafpool prompted Hollypaw, dropping the leaves beside Jaypaw.

  “To make him warm?” Hollypaw ventured.

  Leafpool shook her head. “You can warm him by lying next to him,” she meowed.

  Hollypaw crouched down and pressed her body against Jaypaw’s.

  Leafpool nosed the thyme leaves toward Jaypaw. “The thyme will calm him and help with the shock,” she explained.

  She licked Jaypaw’s cheek. “Eat them all,” she encouraged.

  “They don’t taste too bad, and I’ll send Hollypaw for a nice fresh mouse to wash the taste away once you’ve begun to warm up.”

  Jaypaw swallowed the leaves without complaint. He felt too cold and tired to object to anything. He let his eyes close and felt the warmth of his sister’s body seep into his. He was still vaguely aware of the piercing emotion that raced between Crowfeather and Leafpool, but even that slid away as he slipped into the comforting stillness of sleep.

  Chapter 10

  Lionpaw glanced up at the moon shining full and bright into the hollow. Clouds aren’t going to stop this Gathering.

  Dustpelt, Spiderleg, and Ashfur were already waiting by the camp entrance. Firestar stood beneath Highledge with Sandstorm and Brambleclaw, talking quietly to them.

  “Why are we hanging about?” Hollypaw fussed, tearing the grass with her thorn-sharp claws.

  “It can’t be much longer,” Lionpaw mewed. He felt every bit as excited as his sister. This was their first Gathering, their first chance to meet apprentices from rival Clans, to swap stories and compare training—knowing that the next time they met might be in battle, with claws unsheathed and teeth bared.

  “It looks like Firestar’s waiting for Leafpool,” Hazelpaw put in.

  “Why’s it taking her so long?” Hollypaw complained.

  “She’s only sorting through the new herbs we gathered before sunhigh.”

  “She might sort them quicker if she had her apprentice helping,” Berrypaw pointed out.

  “I tried helping!” Hollypaw protested. “But Leafpool said it would be quicker if she did it herself.”

  Mousepaw’s whiskers twitched. “Are you
sure you’re cut out to be a medicine cat?”

  “Of course I am,” Hollypaw snapped. “One day you’ll be waiting for me to come out of the medicine den!”

  “They’re only teasing you,” Lionpaw soothed her. He thought it was odd that Daisy’s kits were all going to the Gathering, while the Clanborn kits, Cinderpaw, Honeypaw, and Poppypaw, were staying behind. I guess it’s only fair, he decided. Three Clanborn apprentices and three non-Clan. He sighed.

  At least, it would have been three, if only . . .

  He looked at Jaypaw, crouching in the entrance of their den, and sighed. He had been sitting there since sundown, forbidden to go to the Gathering as punishment for the adventure that had ended with his half drowning in the lake.

  Now he glowered angrily out of the shadows, his sightless blue gaze fixed on his brother and sister joking with Daisy’s kits as they waited to leave.

  Why did he have to be so reckless? It was harder now that they were apprentices—Lionpaw’s duties kept him so busy that he could not keep an eye on Jaypaw, as he used to when they were kits. He felt a flash of guilt but pushed it quickly away. His first responsibility was to the Clan now. Jaypaw would have to learn to be more sensible.

  He padded over to his brother and smoothed the fur

  between his ears with his tongue. “I wish you were coming,”

  he mewed.

  “You’re the only one who does,” Jaypaw grumbled.

  “You know that’s not true,” Lionpaw argued. “It’s your own fault you’ve been confined to camp.”

  “Perhaps Firestar just doesn’t want a blind cat at the Gathering.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it doesn’t look good having an apprentice like me in the Clan,” Jaypaw growled.

  Was that true? Before Lionpaw could say anything, he heard Firestar’s call.

  “I have to go,” he told Jaypaw. “But I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”

  He ran after the other apprentices, who were already racing toward the entrance. Firestar padded to the head of the party and, with a sharp nod, bounded away through the tunnel. Lionpaw charged after his Clanmates, his heart soar-ing as their paws drummed the forest floor. He felt Hollypaw’s pelt brushing his, rippling with excitement. A moment later they burst out of the tunnel and charged up the slope.

  They raced past Sky Oak and down to the lake. The pebbles on the shore clattered beneath their paws. The stones grazed Lionpaw’s pads but he didn’t care; he could already see the island on the far side, rising from the water, crowded with trees. Their slender leafless branches reached up to the

  star-pricked sky, trembling like whiskers, and Lionpaw flicked his tail excitedly.

  As the cats began the long trek through WindClan territory, Firestar steadied the pace. They passed the horseplace, where Daisy used to live, and crossed into RiverClan territory, always keeping within five tail-lengths of the waterline, as agreed by all the Clans. The ground became muddier as they neared the island. Lionpaw slowed down after he nearly slipped. He didn’t want to arrive covered in mud. He could make out dark shapes streaming over the fallen tree that bridged the gap between shore and island. The scent of WindClan mingled with the scents of ShadowClan and RiverClan; the other Clans were arriving.

  “Will you mention the border markers?” Lionpaw heard his father meow. He peered past Mousepaw and Spiderleg and saw Brambleclaw keeping pace with Firestar.

  “Do you mean the fact that ShadowClan and WindClan have marked every tree and blade of grass on our borders?”

  Firestar asked.

  “Yes,” Brambleclaw replied.

  “I can’t dictate what the other Clans do in their territory,”

  Firestar reminded him.

  “But it’s an open show of hostility!” Brambleclaw growled.

  “We’re not going to react,” Firestar told him. “Yet.”

  “Firestar’s right.” Ashfur hurried to catch up with them. “It would be better to send out more frequent border patrols than give the other Clans the satisfaction of knowing they’ve got us worried.”

  “It takes more than the stench of ShadowClan to worry us!” Firestar declared. He broke into a run, bounding the last few tail-lengths to the fallen tree, and skidded to a halt by the withered roots.

  Lionpaw stared up at the trunk that bridged the water between the shore and the island. The air was filled with the scents of WindClan, ShadowClan, and RiverClan. “We must be the last to arrive!” he whispered to Hollypaw. Suddenly he felt shy about facing all three Clans at once. “Do you suppose Ferncloud’s nursery stories about ShadowClan are true?”

  “You don’t actually believe they let their elders starve, do you?” Hollypaw mewed scornfully.

  “Well, no,” Lionpaw murmured. “But what if all the other apprentices are bigger than us?”

  “We’ve been apprentices for only a quarter moon,”

  Hollypaw pointed out. “There’re bound to be some apprentices bigger than us.”

  Firestar leaped up onto the fallen trunk, picked his way carefully across to the far shore, and jumped down. The pebbles swished beneath his paws as he turned to watch his Clanmates cross. Brambleclaw followed him, then Dustpelt, and before he knew it, Lionpaw was watching Hollypaw leap up ahead of him onto the tree. The smooth, black water flowed beneath her, lapping gently at the dead branches that held the tree fast in the lakebed. She weaved her way through the stubby twigs and knots until she reached the other end.

  Then she jumped down and turned to watch Lionpaw cross.

  Trembling with excitement, he scrambled up onto the

  branch. The bark was surprisingly slippery and his paws slithered in all directions. He felt the tree jerk and looked back to see that Ashfur had leaped up behind him. Ahead of him was a jutting shard of bark where a smaller branch had once sprouted. He curved his body around it, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the far end of the tree.

  Suddenly his forepaw slipped and his paw shot off the trunk. He felt himself begin to fall and stared in horror at the water shining cold and dark beneath him.

  A gray pelt flashed behind him, and Lionpaw felt the nudge of a muzzle against his flank. It pushed him up, supporting him until he regained his balance. His mentor had saved him from a humiliating start to his first Gathering.

  “Thanks!” Lionpaw gasped.

  “It’s always tricky the first time,” Ashfur meowed.

  Lionpaw unsheathed his claws and gripped the trunk like a squirrel the rest of the way. He jumped down onto the beach, happy to be on solid ground once more. The pebbles felt good on his tingling pads.

  “Thought you were fish food for a moment there,”

  Hollypaw welcomed him.

  “Me too!” Lionpaw purred.

  He longed to race into the trees, impatient to see what was there, but he forced himself to wait while the others crossed.

  Hazelpaw weaved her way among the jutting twigs; Berrypaw pushed his way through with his powerful shoulders, while Spiderleg slipped around them like a snake, clearly accus

  tomed to the crossing. Lionpaw felt very small and inexperienced, but he lifted his chin and forced his fur to lie flat.

  Finally, all the ThunderClan cats stood on the beach.

  Firestar swept his gaze over them, then, with a single nod, turned and padded into the trees. At last! Lionpaw raced between the shadowy trunks, bracken scraping his pelt. His ears twitched with anticipation as the trees thinned and a clearing opened ahead.

  There were cats everywhere. Lionpaw had never seen so many different shades of pelts. Some were lithe, some broad-shouldered. Most seemed much bigger than him. There were more cats here than Lionpaw had imagined could live around the lake, and these were just a few from each Clan! At the far edge of the clearing, with the lake behind it sparkling distantly through the leaf-bare forest, he saw the Great Oak, the center of every Gathering.

  “Is it what you expected?” Hollypaw whispered.

  “I didn’
t realize there would be so many cats.” Lionpaw stared at a RiverClan tom, his pelt so sleek that it shone in the moonlight as he flexed his well-muscled shoulders.

  “Imagine meeting him in battle! I’m going to train twice as hard from now on.”

  “How can you be thinking about fighting?” Hollypaw scolded. “There’s a truce tonight. You should be trying to work out whether he thinks like a ThunderClan warrior.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If you know how your enemy thinks, then you have already won half the battle.”

  Lionpaw glanced sideways at his sister. Where did she come up with this stuff? Here he was, wondering if he could match any of these cats in a fight, and she was already working out battle strategies like she was a Clan leader.

  Mousepaw’s eyes twinkled. “Why not go and ask him?”

  Hollypaw gasped. “Can we really just go up and talk to any cat?”

  “Well,” Mousepaw cautioned, “you’d be better off talking to the apprentices.” He dipped his head toward a group of smaller RiverClan cats. “The warriors from the other Clans aren’t dangerous or anything, but they won’t be pleased to have some young apprentice pestering them.”

  “What if they talk to us?” Lionpaw asked.

  “Just be polite and don’t give too much information away,”

  Hazelpaw warned. “Some of the warriors might use your inexperience to find out what’s happening in ThunderClan.”

  “Did you spill any secrets at your first Gathering, Mousepaw?” Hollypaw asked.

  “Of course not!” Mousepaw sniffed.

  “Yeah, right!” Berrypaw interjected sarcastically. “If I hadn’t clamped my tail over your mouth you would have told Russetfur that Firestar was about to give up the land by the river before Firestar had a chance to announce it himself.”

  “But she’s the ShadowClan deputy!” Mousepaw argued. “I couldn’t just ignore her.”

  “You didn’t have to tell her your Clan’s whole history either,” Berrypaw mewed, his whiskers twitching.

  “Well,” Hollypaw mewed suddenly, “I’m going to see what everyone else is talking about.”

  She began to head toward the group of wide-eyed RiverClan apprentices when a small, pale tabby came hurtling toward her across the clearing.