by Erin Hunter
“Hey, Hollyleaf!” he called; he didn’t want to go over to her and get stuck talking to the others.
Hollyleaf came bounding over to him; his belly rumbled as he caught the scent of fresh mouse clinging to her pelt. “Did something happen?” she asked; he could feel her urgency crackling like lightning.
“We’ve got to talk. Where’s Lionblaze?”
“Still asleep in the warriors’ den,” Hollyleaf mewed.
“Get him. I’ll meet you in back.”
Jaypaw slid into the gap behind the warriors’ den, his claws flexing impatiently until Hollyleaf and Lionblaze squeezed into the narrow space beside him.
“We’ve got to find a better place to meet,” Lionblaze grumbled. “If we get any bigger we’ll never fit in here.”
“Stop complaining,” Jaypaw snapped, wriggling to make sure he got his fair share of the space. “This is important.”
“Tell us, then!” Hollyleaf meowed.
Jaypaw told them about his dream at the Moonpool, his meeting with Midnight the badger and then with Raggedstar and Runningnose.
“StarClan asked you for help?” Hollyleaf queried, awe in her voice. “That’s amazing!”
Jaypaw gave a faint hiss of annoyance. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”
“Do you think you can do what they want?” Lionblaze asked. “We’ll help, you know that.”
“I had an idea,” Jaypaw began. “We have to make ShadowClan believe in their warrior ancestors, right? So what they need is a sign from StarClan—a clear sign that every cat can see.”
“If StarClan could do that, wouldn’t they have done it already?” Hollyleaf asked doubtfully.
“Yes, I think so.” Jaypaw’s pelt prickled with excitement. “So, if StarClan can’t do it, we’ll have to do it for them.”
There was a short silence. Then Lionblaze mewed, “Make a sign from StarClan?”
“Why not?”
“I dunno.” Lionblaze sounded puzzled. “It just seems…wrong, somehow. Besides, if we’re more powerful than StarClan, why does it matter that ShadowClan believe in their warrior ancestors?”
“Of course it matters, mouse-brain!” Hollyleaf spat. Jaypaw felt all her muscles bunch as if she would have leaped on her brother for a couple of mouse tails. “All four Clans have to stick to the warrior code.”
“Okay, calm down,” Lionblaze muttered.
Hollyleaf ignored him. “Jaypaw, I don’t know how we’re going to do this, but I know we can. I’ll do whatever it takes to save ShadowClan from Sol!”
Her voice shook with intensity, and Jaypaw could imagine fire blazing in her green eyes. A shiver crept on mouse feet down his spine. It was clearer and clearer that nothing mattered to Hollyleaf more than the warrior code, and for the first time in his life he felt a little afraid of her.
CHAPTER 6
The sound of coughing woke Hollyleaf. Raising her head, she peered across the warriors’ den. A few tail-lengths away, Thornclaw was sitting up, his head bent as he coughed.
His sister Brightheart pressed her muzzle into his shoulder fur. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “I’ll fetch you something from Leafpool to make you feel better.”
“Get a move on,” Spiderleg rasped. “Then maybe the rest of us can get some sleep.”
“Yeah, it’s like trying to sleep with a monster in here,” Berrynose added.
Brightheart gave them a furious glare, her teeth drawn back in a snarl. “See if I help you if you get ill,” she snapped, and slid out between the branches.
Thornclaw coughed again. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to the stupid furballs,” Hollyleaf told him. “If they don’t like it, they can go out and do something useful.”
Both Spiderleg and Berrynose ignored her, curling up again and wrapping their tails over their ears. Thornclaw lay down, too, but a cough shook him every time he tried to breathe.
Hollyleaf was too anxious to go back to sleep. She curled up in her nest, listening to the rain beating steadily on the branches of the den. How many more cats would fall ill before Leafpool got the greencough outbreak under control?
Her thoughts jumped to what she and Lionblaze had discussed with Jaypaw the day before. Did they truly need to fake a sign to make ShadowClan believe in StarClan again? Wouldn’t that make StarClan angry with them? Perhaps they ought to find another way to show that Sol wasn’t a worthy leader.
Unwillingly, Hollyleaf remembered how she had felt when Sol talked to her; she had basked in the warmth of his gaze, and his calm, deep voice made her feel as if everything would be fine as long as she listened to him.
And yet he had taken a whole Clan away from StarClan. That couldn’t be right! StarClan has always been there! None of the Clans should turn away from them.
Arguing with herself was making Hollyleaf dizzy. In spite of the pounding raindrops, she got up and squeezed out through the branches of the den. Rain had turned the floor of the clearing to mud; it splashed up over Hollyleaf’s legs and belly fur as she sprinted across to the thorn tunnel and stood shivering in its shelter. Her paws itched to race through the forest, as if she could find the answers she was looking for by tracking them down like prey.
Gray dawn light seeped reluctantly into the hollow. No other cat was stirring, until Brightheart emerged from Leafpool’s den and pelted back across the clearing with some leaves in her mouth. Soon after, movement on the Highledge caught Hollyleaf’s eye and she spotted Sandstorm leaping down the tumbled rocks. The ginger she-cat headed for the dirtplace tunnel, then swerved when she saw Hollyleaf and bounded over to join her.
“What are you doing up so early?” she meowed. “There won’t be any patrols until the sun is up.” Twitching her tail, she added, “With any luck, the rain will ease off by then.”
“Thornclaw was coughing,” Hollyleaf replied, aware that she wasn’t telling the whole truth.
Concern filled Sandstorm’s green eyes. “The last thing we need is illness in the camp. A lot of the cats are still weak from the battle—especially Squirrelflight.”
Hollyleaf flinched. Her mother had been terribly injured in the battle; her wound was only just beginning to heal. Although she wasn’t sleeping in Leafpool’s den anymore, she wasn’t allowed to leave the camp. If she caught a bad cough she wouldn’t have the strength to fight it.
Sandstorm bent down and nuzzled Hollyleaf’s head; for a heartbeat Hollyleaf felt like a kit again, safe and comforted. “Don’t look so worried,” the older cat purred. “There are plenty of warriors to take care of the Clan, and Leafpool’s a great medicine cat. You just need to concentrate on learning everything you can to serve ThunderClan.”
“That’s what I try to do,” Hollyleaf meowed, painfully aware of how far she fell short of what she would like to be.
“You made a great start in the battle,” Sandstorm encouraged her. “Firestar is very proud of you. But you mustn’t take on more responsibility than you need to.”
Hollyleaf stifled a snort of bitter laughter. Sandstorm had no idea what responsibilities she had to cope with.
“Don’t forget what I said.” Sandstorm stroked her tail-tip gently over Hollyleaf’s shoulder, then pushed her way out of the tunnel and headed for the dirtplace.
The morning light was growing stronger, though clouds still covered the sky and rain still hissed down into the clearing. Hollyleaf saw Graystripe bound across the clearing to Leafpool’s den, though he didn’t go farther than the bramble screen.
Checking on Millie, Hollyleaf guessed.
A couple of heartbeats after Graystripe, Ashfur emerged from the warriors’ den, closely followed by Cloudtail and Cinderheart. All three cats headed for the tunnel.
Ashfur gave Hollyleaf a nod as they approached, curiosity in his blue eyes. “You look frozen,” he meowed. “Do you want to come on the border patrol to warm up?”
“Sure!” She didn’t want to go back to the warriors’ den, and she knew Jaypaw wouldn’t plan anything about the
fake sign without her.
Ashfur led the way out into the forest, making for the old Twoleg path. The rest of the patrol followed him, the rain muffling their paw steps. Cinderheart fell in beside Hollyleaf. There was a hint of nervousness in her blue eyes. “I don’t like going this way,” she confessed. “It reminds me too much of the battle.”
Hollyleaf let out a murmur of agreement. Her memories disturbed her, too, especially when they came in sight of the abandoned Twoleg nest. The blood had been washed away from the stones, but it was easy to imagine that the stench still hung in the air, and the shrieks of battling cats still echoed from the crumbling walls. Hollyleaf’s neck fur rose as she eyed the moss-covered walls and thick clumps of bracken, half expecting WindClan warriors to leap out at them.
“Stop!” Cloudtail’s command jerked her back to the present. The white warrior was standing with his tail raised to halt the rest of the patrol. “There’s something up ahead.”
“Can you tell what it is?” Ashfur asked softly. “WindClan?”
Cloudtail shook his head; his jaws gaped as he tasted the air.
Ashfur signaled with his tail for Hollyleaf and Cinderheart to fall back and let Cloudtail take the lead. Hollyleaf knew that the white tom was the best tracker in ThunderClan; he would soon find out what was waiting for them.
Cloudtail slunk along the edge of the Twoleg path, close to the rain-battered undergrowth, and slid under the overhanging stems to disguise his white pelt. Ashfur followed him, with Hollyleaf and Cinderheart in the rear. As she crept behind the senior warriors, Hollyleaf caught a trace of unfamiliar scent. She stiffened, her pelt beginning to bristle, and exchanged an alarmed glance with Cinderheart.
ShadowClan!
Hollyleaf tried to convince herself that the scent was left behind from the battle, but she knew that it was fresh, and it grew stronger as she padded forward. Her belly churned. Surely Sol wouldn’t have ordered ShadowClan to invade ThunderClan’s territory?
Wouldn’t he? Hollyleaf thought she could hear Jaypaw’s voice, drily sarcastic.
Cloudtail and Ashfur dropped into a crouch, ready to leap into battle; Hollyleaf and Cinderheart hastily copied them. The rain had almost stopped, though the wind still blew spatters into Hollyleaf’s face. She could hear sounds now, of cats pushing their way through the rain-soaked undergrowth, heading for the Twoleg path.
Then she heard a plaintive squeak. “Mother, that fern dripped water all the way down my neck!”
“Hush,” came the reply. “We’ll be there soon.”
“Tawnypelt! Flamepaw!” Hollyleaf bounded forward, ignoring Ashfur’s hiss of anger.
Fronds of bracken parted at the side of the path, and the ShadowClan she-cat pushed her way through. All three of her kits followed, shaking water from their pelts as they reached the open ground.
“It’s you!” Tawnypelt exclaimed in relief, touching noses with Hollyleaf. “Thank StarClan it’s some cat I know.” Turning away, she dipped her head to Cloudtail and Ashfur. “Greetings,” she meowed. “I’ve come to—”
“You’ve no right to be here,” Ashfur interrupted, the fur along his spine sticking straight up. “What do you want? Are you alone, or have you brought the rest of your Clan?”
“Hang on.” Cloudtail slapped his tail over the gray warrior’s mouth. “Let her get a word in edgewise.”
Tawnypelt blinked gratefully at Cloudtail. “I’ve brought my kits to ThunderClan.” Her voice was low, so that her kits couldn’t hear; all three of them were huddled together at the side of the path, staring around with huge eyes. “I don’t want to be part of a Clan that doesn’t listen to their warrior ancestors anymore.”
While she was speaking, Hollyleaf noticed how tired and hungry she looked. Her voice quivered; she was far from the tough, resourceful warrior Hollyleaf had known on their journey to the mountains.
“And what makes you think—” Ashfur began, still hostile.
“Try not to be more of a mouse-brain than you can help.” Cloudtail spoke over him. “What have we got to be afraid of? It’s only a queen and her kits.”
“We’re apprentices!” Flamepaw piped up indignantly.
Cloudtail twitched his ears. “Whatever. In any case, you can all come back to the camp. Firestar will be interested to hear about what’s going on in ShadowClan.” He shot a glance at Ashfur. “And it’s Firestar who’ll make the final decision.”
Fury still burned in Ashfur’s blue eyes. “All right,” he snapped. “We go back to camp. And if WindClan decides to cross the border because we didn’t finish our patrol, don’t blame me.”
He led the way back along the path, stalking ahead of Cloudtail and Tawnypelt. Cinderheart followed, while all three apprentices crowded around Hollyleaf.
“Hi, Hollypaw!” Tigerpaw mewed.
“I’m Hollyleaf now,” she told them.
“Wow, you’re a warrior!” Dawnpaw’s eyes stretched wide. “Congratulations.”
“Hollyleaf! Hollyleaf!” Flamepaw called out, and his brother and sister joined in.
Cinderheart glanced back, blue eyes brimming with amusement. “It sounds as if you’ve got three new apprentices,” she murmured.
“Stop that,” Hollyleaf mewed. Every hair on her pelt felt hot with embarrassment. “I can’t move without tripping over you. We’ll get left behind.”
The young apprentices stopped squeaking and began trotting along beside Hollyleaf with their tails stuck straight up in the air.
“What’s that?” Dawnpaw asked, as they passed the abandoned nest.
“Twolegs used to live there,” Hollyleaf explained. “But they haven’t been there for a long time,” she added, as the three apprentices exchanged anxious glances. “Can you scent any Twolegs here?”
All three of them opened their little mouths to taste the air, then shook their heads solemnly. “Not a thing!” Tigerpaw announced.
“Well done,” Hollyleaf meowed, wondering if this was how it felt to be a mentor.
“Where is the rest of your Clan?” Flamepaw asked as they hurried to catch up to the other cats.
“In camp, mostly,” Hollyleaf replied. “We were the dawn patrol. There might be patrols out hunting by now, but it’s still pretty early.”
“Can we hunt?” Dawnpaw asked. “We’re starving!”
“Don’t be such a stupid furball,” Tigerpaw scolded her, flicking her ear with the tip of his tail. “You don’t hunt in another Clan’s territory.”
“Well, I asked,” Dawnpaw retorted.
“There’s no time to hunt now,” Hollyleaf replied, wondering how skillful the apprentices would be. They were still very young; they couldn’t have had much training. “I expect you’ll be able to eat when we get to camp.”
Flamepaw’s eyes gleamed. “Thank you!”
Looking at them more closely, Hollyleaf realized that Dawnpaw might have really meant it when she said they were starving. They were all very thin; every one of their ribs was visible through their pelts. Tawnypelt, too, looked thin and hollow, and her fur looked as if it hadn’t been groomed for a moon. Was there a problem with the prey in ShadowClan?
“Do you think Sol knows we’re here?” Tigerpaw asked as they veered off the Twoleg path toward the stone hollow.
Hollyleaf wasn’t sure what to answer. Sol had known all about her and her littermates, and he had known that the sun would vanish. But Jaypaw had told her that he’d found out a lot of things from Midnight. Could he possibly know where Tawnypelt and her kits were now? And would he be angry that they had left for another Clan?
“I don’t know what Sol knows,” she admitted. “Your mother didn’t tell him you were leaving?”
“No way!” Dawnpaw shuddered, her eyes wide with fear. “He would never have let us go.”
Hollyleaf was saved from having to find a response, as they rounded a stand of hazel bushes to see the thorn barrier across the entrance to the camp. Brambleclaw was standing outside, tasting the air, his dark tabby fur still rumpled
from sleep. When the patrol came into sight he stared at Tawnypelt for a heartbeat, then bounded over to her and pressed his muzzle into his sister’s shoulder.
“It’s good to see you,” he meowed. “Are you and your kits okay? How are things in ShadowClan?”
“Everything’s fine,” Tawnypelt replied with a cautious glance at Ashfur. “Prey is running well in ShadowClan territory.”
Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes and gave his sister a long look. Hollyleaf could see that he didn’t believe Tawnypelt was telling them everything. If there was plenty of prey, why did she and her kits look so thin? “You’d better come into camp,” he mewed eventually. “I’ll tell Firestar you’re here.”
He led the way through the barrier. The three apprentices dived eagerly after their mother, but when they stepped into the clearing they hesitated, their fur bristling as they gazed around.
“It’s okay,” Hollyleaf reassured them. “Brambleclaw said you could come in, so no cat will hurt you.”
The three young cats relaxed a little; Tigerpaw’s eyes gleamed as he spotted the fresh-kill pile. “Can we have some?” he asked Hollyleaf. “We’re so hungry!”
“You’d better ask Brambleclaw,” Hollyleaf replied.
Brambleclaw, who was talking to Tawnypelt a tail-length away, had heard the plaintive question. “Help yourselves,” he invited with a wave of his tail. “There’s plenty.”
Hollyleaf followed the three apprentices as they bounded across to the fresh-kill pile. “Don’t gulp your food or you’ll get bellyaches,” she warned them.
Flamepaw gave her a hasty nod and dived into the pile beside his brother and sister. They clawed away the soaking wet fresh-kill on top of the pile to find the drier, juicier pieces underneath, and crouched down to eat with purrs of enthusiasm.
Taking a mouse for herself, Hollyleaf was just starting to eat when Lionblaze emerged from the warriors’ den, followed by Jaypaw. Both her littermates padded across the clearing toward her; their ears flicked up in surprise when they noticed the ShadowClan apprentices.