Fading Echoes

by Erin Hunter

  She scrambled off him and jumped to her paws. “Sorry!”

  The shock on her face brought a purr to his throat, banishing his frustration. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be surprised, not you!” he teased.

  Pelt ruffling with embarrassment, Ivypaw scrabbled back up the tree.

  “Careful, Dovepaw!” Cinderheart warned. “That branch is too narrow. It won’t hold your weight!”

  Wood cracked high overhead.

  Heart lurching, Lionblaze looked up. “Dovepaw!”

  The gray apprentice was gripping a thin, broken branch halfway up the tree. “I can’t hang on!” she wailed. Her paws were sliding down the narrow strip of wood.

  “Try to land on the branch below!” Cinderheart called up to her as Dovepaw reached the tip of the branch and tumbled down onto the next. She scrabbled for a grip, yelping as she fell again.

  “Keep your claws out!” Lionblaze yowled.

  “I am!” Dovepaw cried as she slid from branch to branch like a pebble bouncing down a slope. “I can’t get a grip.”

  Lionblaze relaxed. The branches slowed Dovepaw’s fall until she plopped out of the tree like a pigeon landing clumsily. She stood up and fluffed out her fur.

  Lionblaze shook his head. “When Jayfeather told me it was going to rain today, he didn’t warn me it was going to rain cats!”

  Dovepaw brightened as she saw the glimmer of amusement in his eye. “I’ll do better this time,” she promised, dashing back to climb the tree once more.

  Lionblaze padded away through the trees. He could hear the leaves rustling overhead as Cinderheart guided them from one branch to another.

  While he was waiting for their “surprise” attack, he decided to hunt. With leaf-fall setting in, any extra prey would be welcomed in camp. He sniffed among the rain-soaked roots of the oak. Fresh squirrel dung made him wrinkle his nose. He climbed silently around the wide trunk, moving snakelike over the roots twining from the ground. The scent dipped between them and ran a few tail-lengths along a dried streambed fracturing the forest floor.

  Lionblaze froze.

  Rooting beneath the oak’s dripping branches was a fat gray squirrel. Its back was toward him and it was so intent on nibbling a nut that it didn’t even pause to sniff the air as Lionblaze dropped into a hunting crouch.

  Whiskers stiff, tail just skimming the leafy ground, Lionblaze crept closer. A tail-length away he paused, waggled his hindquarters, and pounced. The squirrel struggled in his paws for a moment until he snapped its spine with a fast, clean bite. Pleased, he sat up with the fresh-kill hanging from his jaws.

  A swish sounded above him. He looked up, his mouth full of squirrel fur. Two shapes dropped, landing one after another on his shoulders. He spat out the squirrel as his legs collapsed beneath him.

  “We did it!” Dovepaw’s triumphant mew sounded close to his ear.

  Lionblaze shook her off, letting Ivypaw slither from his back. “Deafening the enemy,” he meowed, his ears ringing. “Great strategy!”

  Cinderheart scrambled down the trunk, looking pleased. “You didn’t have a clue we were up there, did you?” She glanced at the squirrel lying at his paws. “Nice catch, by the way.”

  “Can we try it again?” Ivypaw begged.

  “Why not?” Cinderheart flicked her tail back toward the trunk. “Up you go.”

  Ivypaw leaped for the tree, but Dovepaw had stiffened and was staring, ears pricked, into the trees.

  She’s heard something! Lionblaze could see anxiety darkening his apprentice’s eyes.

  “You climb with Ivypaw,” he told Cinderheart quickly. “There’s a hunting technique I’ve been meaning to show Dovepaw.”

  “Can I learn it too?” Ivypaw called.

  “One at a time is easier,” Lionblaze lied. “I’ll show you another time.”

  Ivypaw shrugged. “Okay.” She leaped up the trunk and disappeared into the branches with Cinderheart.

  Beckoning with his tail, Lionblaze guided Dovepaw away from the oak. “What did you hear?” he demanded once he was sure they were out of earshot.

  “Dogs!”

  The fur rose along Lionblaze’s spine. “In the forest?”

  Dovepaw shook her head. “In WindClan territory.”

  “That’s okay. Twolegs use dogs to chase sheep up there,” Lionblaze explained.

  But Dovepaw’s eyes were still round. “They’re not chasing sheep; they’re chasing cats.” She stared in alarm at Lionblaze. “We have to help them.”

  “No.” Lionblaze was firm. “WindClan cats are used to it. Don’t forget they can outrun rabbits if they want. They’ll be fine.”

  “But Sedgewhisker is one of the cats being chased!” She froze, her eyes suddenly wild. “One of the dogs has caught up to her! It’s biting her!”

  Lionblaze stiffened. “Where are her Clanmates?”

  Dovepaw frowned. “They’re with her….” She spoke slowly, describing the scene as it happened. “They’re attacking the dog.”

  Lionblaze let out a sigh of relief. “Then Sedgewhisker will be safe.”

  “How do you know that?” Dovepaw hissed.

  Lionblaze’s heart sank. He’d been waiting for something like this to happen. Dovepaw was clinging to the friendships they’d made on the long journey; Sedgewhisker had traveled with them to destroy the beavers’ dam. Dovepaw had to understand that they were back in their own territories now. “We’re home,” he told her. “Your loyalty lies with your own Clan. You can’t be as close to Sedgewhisker or the others as you were before.”

  Dovepaw stared at him. “Why not?”

  “Because the warrior code tells us we shouldn’t make friends outside our Clan.”

  Her blue eyes flashed. “How can you be so cold?”

  “I’m not being cold!” Lionblaze insisted. “Things have changed.”

  “I haven’t changed,” Dovepaw snapped. “I’m the same cat I was on the journey upstream.” She kneaded the ground with her front paws. “What’s the use of knowing what’s happening far away if I can’t do something about it?”

  “Maybe you should figure out how to limit your senses to ThunderClan territory,” he suggested.

  Dovepaw looked at him as though he’d grown another head. “The prophecy is bigger than the warrior code, right?”

  Lionblaze nodded, wary of where she was heading.

  “So my powers aren’t just for ThunderClan’s benefit, are they?”

  “We’re ThunderClan cats,” he reminded her. “That’s where our loyalties should lie.”

  Dovepaw glared at him. “So am I loyal to the prophecy, or the warrior code?” The fur fluffed around her ears. “You and Jayfeather had better make your minds up before I decide myself.” Without waiting for an answer, she pelted back to the oak and disappeared up the trunk after Cinderheart and Ivypaw.

  Lionblaze watched her go, his heart sinking. He was only just beginning to understand Jayfeather’s abilities; now he was faced with another cat whose powers were beyond anything he could imagine. Stretching his ears, he strained to listen as hard as he could, but all he could hear was rain pattering on the dying leaves.

  Ivypaw’s mew sounded from high in the oak. “This branch keeps bobbing in the wind.”

  “Just hang on tight,” Cinderheart advised.

  “It’s making me feel sick!”

  Lionblaze’s own power was far simpler. He could fight in battles, unscathed, fearless and stronger than any opponent. Did that seem strange and frightening to his Clanmates? He knew Hollyleaf had always felt uncomfortable about his readiness to fight, as though she didn’t quite believe he wouldn’t get hurt.

  But then, she had no power of her own. She was never one of the Three.

  And he had been hurt once. Tigerstar had drawn blood in their last dream encounter. Lionblaze glanced behind him, the fur lifting on his shoulders. Was the dark warrior watching him now? Ferns swished beside him and he swung around, uncurling his claws.

  “Sorreltail!” He coul
dn’t hide the relief in his voice. “Are you looking for Cinderheart?”

  Sorreltail shook her head. “I’m joining Graystripe’s hunting patrol. Jayfeather just told me that my shoulder’s healed.” The tortoiseshell warrior had wrenched it a few days earlier when her paw had caught in a rabbit hole. “Is Cinderheart with you?” She followed Lionblaze’s gaze up to watch her daughter beckoning Ivypaw farther out along a branch. Cinderheart was balancing skillfully as the branch swayed beneath her paws.

  Pride glowed in Sorreltail’s eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day when she’d be strong enough to climb trees like a squirrel.” She sighed gently and watched a moment longer before pulling her gaze away. “Leafpool healed her so well. She was a wonderful medicine cat.”

  There was an edge to her mew. Did she blame Lionblaze for Leafpool’s decision to leave the medicine den and become a warrior? His pelt itched. It wasn’t his fault Leafpool had thrown everything away by breaking the warrior code! She was the one who’d had kits with a cat from another Clan and then lied about them!

  He held his tongue as Sorreltail headed away; then, remembering Sedgewhisker, he called hopefully, “Where are you hunting?”

  “By the WindClan border.”

  Good. If the WindClan cats were really in trouble, the hunting patrol would notice; Graystripe could decide whether to help them or not.

  As Sorreltail disappeared through a dripping wall of fern, Lionblaze scraped dirt over his catch and padded to the bottom of the oak. “How are you doing?” he called to his Clanmates.

  “They’re doing very well.” Cinderheart landed lightly beside him, Ivypaw and Dovepaw dropping down after her. “I think we can try something harder.”

  Ivypaw pricked her ears.

  “Let’s teach them to cross from one tree to another,” Cinderheart suggested.

  “Like squirrels!” Ivypaw squeaked.

  “Yes, like squirrels.”

  Lionblaze’s tail drooped. He wasn’t a natural climber. “We could teach them battle moves instead,” he suggested hopefully. “There are plenty they don’t know yet.”

  “Firestar wants us to practice tree hopping,” Cinderheart reminded him.

  We’re cats, not birds! Lionblaze always felt big and clumsy in trees. He’d rather be on the ground, fighting. Why sit up in the branches like a bunch of owls, watching the enemy, rather than tackling them head-on like warriors?

  “Come on. Let’s start in this maple.” Cinderheart flashed him a determined glance. She knew he didn’t like tree climbing. “In the old territory, Longtail swears he once crossed from the Great Sycamore to camp without touching the forest floor.”

  “How far was that?” Dovepaw sounded impressed.

  “About the same as from here to the hollow,” Cinderheart meowed.

  Lionblaze snorted. How do you know? Cinderheart had been born by the lake, like him. She had never seen the old territory!

  “I bet I could do that,” Ivypaw boasted. She swarmed up the trunk of the maple, eyes half closed against the rain dripping down through the branches. Cinderheart followed, Dovepaw on her tail.

  Lionblaze stared up, wishing that the rain would stop. It was going to be hard enough without slippery bark. Sighing, he heaved himself up the trunk, digging his claws deep into the bark to stop himself from sliding down.

  Cinderheart was waiting on the lowest branch, while Ivypaw and Dovepaw were already halfway to the end.

  “We won’t even have to jump this one,” Dovepaw reported over her shoulder. The branch wove into the lowest branches of a neighboring willow.

  “Perhaps we should take a different route,” Lionblaze called to her. The willow had slender branches. “That might not take our weight.”

  “Your weight, you mean!” There was a sharpness in Dovepaw’s reply. She was still angry with him for not helping Sedgewhisker. Lionblaze let it pass, though irritation pricked his pads.

  Cinderheart nodded toward the willow. “It’s an old tree.” Dovepaw and Ivypaw had already crossed into its branches. “It’ll be strong enough.”

  She was right. Lionblaze padded through its boughs easily, relieved to find them wide and sturdy. “Slow down!” he called. Dovepaw and Ivypaw were rushing on ahead, as though each wanted to be first to make it back to camp without touching the forest floor.

  Dovepaw was balancing at the tip of the willow’s longest branch. An ancient oak sprouted beyond it, gnarled and twisted with age. “I’m going to try this one,” she mewed over her shoulder.

  “The bark’s very rough,” Lionblaze warned. “It looks old. There may be cracks in the branches you can’t see.” He quickened his pace, leaping past Cinderheart. “Wait until I’ve checked it!”

  Too late!

  Dovepaw was already leaping onto a branch of the oak. It cracked as she landed, snapping like a dry twig, and, with a yelp, she plummeted downward.

  It was only three tail-lengths to the soft forest floor and she landed on her paws. But Lionblaze knew what was coming next.

  “Look out!” He leaped from the willow, skidding across the forest floor and grabbing Dovepaw by the scruff.

  “What?” she squawked as he dragged her backward. A moment later the ancient oak branch came crashing down.

  Lionblaze screwed up his eyes, shielding Dovepaw with his body. When the branch had stopped rocking he turned on her angrily.

  “However much you think you know, sometimes I’m right, okay?” he growled.

  Dovepaw lifted her nose and sniffed. Then she turned and stalked away.

  CHAPTER 5

  Dovepaw stretched her aching legs. Her nest rustled as she fidgeted. Her denmates were fast asleep. They’d dozed off by the time the moon had risen above the hollow, tired after their training.

  But Dovepaw felt wide-awake. She’d seen Sedgewhisker limping back to camp, supported by her Clanmates. She could smell the blood crusting over Sedgewhisker’s wound, feel the heat pulsing from her swollen leg. She needed to know how badly injured her WindClan friend was!

  “Are you okay?” Ivypaw peered over the rim of her nest. Her eyes were round with worry. “Did the fall hurt you?”

  “No,” Dovepaw answered honestly. Only her pride had been hurt. Lionblaze was so bossy! And now he was trying to tell her how to use her power. He should respect her, like Jayfeather did, not treat her like some dumb apprentice.

  Ivypaw sat up. “You’re not tired at all?”

  Dovepaw flicked her tail. “No.”

  “Come on.” Ivypaw stepped from her nest. Blossompaw was snoring again. “Let’s go into the forest.”

  Dovepaw’s heart gave a jolt as hope flashed through it. She sat up. What was Ivypaw planning?

  Briarpaw rolled onto her back, her paws folded in the air like a rabbit’s.

  “We haven’t been out at night since you went to find the beavers.” Ivypaw tiptoed to the entrance and slid out. The low branches of the yew den slicked Dovepaw’s fur as she followed eagerly. The starlit clearing glowed like a pool in the center of the shadowy hollow. Dovepaw could smell the forest above, musty with the scent of leaf-fall, damp with night dew.

  She cast her senses out past the thorn barrier and scented Rosepetal guarding the camp entrance, her paws shifting on the ground, her breath coming in billows.

  “I know a secret way out,” she told Ivypaw.

  “Through the dirtplace tunnel?” Ivypaw guessed.

  “Better than that.” Dovepaw crept around the edge of the clearing, past the entrance to the medicine den. She squeezed through the tangle of brambles beside it until she reached the rock wall beyond. Stretching up through the twisted stems, she reached for a low ledge and hauled herself up.

  “Are you coming?” she hissed down to Ivypaw.

  Her sister’s silver-and-white pelt was flashing beneath the bramble. “Coming,” Ivypaw breathed.

  Dovepaw jumped up to the next ledge, then the next, until the dens of the camp looked like small clumps of scrub below her. Fizzing with excitement,
she scrambled over the lip of the cliff and onto soft grass.

  Ivypaw bounded up after her. “How did you find out about that?”

  “Lionblaze.” He’d told her in case she ever needed to escape camp without being seen. I bet he didn’t expect me to use it so soon, she thought with a glimmer of satisfaction. I make my own decisions.

  A half-moon lit the treetops, filtering through the bare branches and striping the forest floor silver. Breathing the musty scents of the night-damp forest, Dovepaw scampered into the trees.

  Ivypaw ran beside her. “I wonder if anyone else is out?”

  Dovepaw cast her senses through the trees, feeling for signs of movement. The waves on the lakeshore murmured softly, like the lapping of her mother’s tongue against her fur. Beyond the border, a ShadowClan kit wailed, waking from a bad dream, and across the lake, on the far side of RiverClan territory, Twolegs yowled in their nest.

  “Where should we go?” Ivypaw’s question jerked her back. “What about the old Twoleg nest? It’s really spooky. I bet you’re not brave enough!”

  No. Dovepaw knew exactly where she wanted to go. She could sense Sedgewhisker stirring in her nest, her eyes flickering as though the pain in her leg wouldn’t let her rest. “Let’s go to the moorland.”

  Ivypaw skidded to a halt. “WindClan territory?”

  “Right to their camp.” Dovepaw paused beside her. She needed to make a challenge that Ivypaw couldn’t resist.

  Her sister stared at her, whiskers quivering as though she’d scented prey. “To their camp?” she echoed breathlessly.

  “I haven’t seen Whitetail or Sedgewhisker since I got back from upstream.”

  Ivypaw’s tail drooped. “What do you want to see them for?” She sounded puzzled and hurt. “You don’t need friends in WindClan. You’ve got friends here.” She flicked her tail toward the hollow.

  “But don’t you want to see if we can make it?” Dovepaw coaxed. She couldn’t explain Sedgewhisker’s injury without giving away her secret. “We can always say we were lost if we get caught. We’re only apprentices. No cat is going to think we’re trying to invade.” She had to see if Sedgewhisker was safe. Just because Lionblaze couldn’t care less doesn’t mean I have to. “Oh, come on,” she pleaded with Ivypaw.