Night Whispers

by Erin Hunter

  “Where have you been?” Cinderheart’s mew made her jump, and Ivypaw spun around. Was that suspicion in her mentor’s eyes? “Dovepaw’s been back for ages.”

  “I wanted to practice my stalking till I got it right.” Ivypaw wasn’t going to admit she’d been sitting by the lake silently fuming. I’m as loyal as any ThunderClan warrior. More loyal! I’m the only one who trains to fight for my Clan even in my dreams.

  “You must be hungry,” Cinderheart meowed. “Get something to eat. Then you can help Dovepaw and Leafpool with the warriors’ den.”

  Ivypaw looked at her paws. “Isn’t there something else I can do?”

  Cinderheart leaned forward. “Have you been quarreling with your sister again?” Her whiskers brushed Ivypaw’s cheek. “You shouldn’t be jealous of her, you know. You’re just as good at hunting and fighting as she is.”

  Of course I am! I’ve been trained by the best!

  “I was proud of you yesterday,” Cinderheart went on. “You fought like a warrior.”

  “Thanks,” Ivypaw grunted. Hawkfrost hadn’t wasted time with flattery. He’d watched her fight in the battle, and when they’d met in the Dark Forest afterward, he’d shown her how she could fight better next time. So what if she’d sprained her paw; she’d learned so much!

  “Get some fresh-kill.” Cinderheart nudged her toward the pile of prey. It smelled fragrant, and Ivypaw’s belly growled.

  “Take what you want.” Birchfall was flinging the kill from the top of the pile into a shallow hole beside it. “What you don’t eat will get buried for later.”

  Ivypaw plucked out a fat shrew and gulped it down. As she licked her lips, she noticed Leafpool heading toward her with Foxleap.

  “Cinderheart said you’d help finish the new section of the den,” Leafpool meowed.

  Foxleap could hardly keep his paws still. “It’s going to be great once we’ve finished,” he mewed. “There’ll be room for Blossomfall and Bumblestripe.”

  “Okay, I’ll help,” Ivypaw sighed. She couldn’t avoid her sister forever. Twigs were heaped beside the fresh-kill pile, and she grabbed a bunch in her jaws.

  “I’ll help too!” Rosepetal bounded across the clearing.

  “I’m just fixing that patch.” Foxleap nodded toward a gap in the den wall where long stems of beech had already been bent and planted into the earth. “You can hardly tell it’s a fallen tree anymore.”

  Rosepetal nodded. “It’s become part of the camp now.”

  “Mind you, there’s hardly any hollow left,” Foxleap muttered, squeezing past a branch that was sticking out.

  “There’s enough,” Rosepetal mewed. “And it’s much less drafty in camp now.”

  Ivypaw dropped her mouthful of twigs beside Dovepaw. “Here you go.” Before Dovepaw could thank her, Ivypaw trotted around the bulging wall and began weaving twigs between the gaps.

  “You’ve got nimble paws.” Blossomfall settled beside her and began to help. “Here.” She poked a long whip of willow through a hole in the branches. “You guide it, and I’ll pull.”

  Ivypaw poked another twig into a gap in the wall. “Why isn’t any cat talking about the battle? It’s like they don’t remember it happened.”

  “Why should they?” Blossomfall used her paws to squeeze the woven sticks tighter. “We won. What else should we be doing?”

  “We should be learning how we could have fought better.”

  Blossomfall stared at her. “But we won!”

  “That doesn’t mean we’ll win next time,” Ivypaw pointed out. “And you can bet that ShadowClan warriors are training harder than ever to make sure that next time they win.”

  “How do you know?”

  Ivypaw looked away. “They’re ShadowClan.”

  Blossomfall snorted. “Well, we’re ThunderClan, and leaf-bare is here, and there’s more to worry about than just fighting.”

  Ivypaw sniffed. No wonder Hawkfrost doesn’t visit your dreams.

  Ivypaw huffed wearily as she circled in her nest. She’d eaten fresh-kill with Blossomfall and had crept into her nest instead of washing, hoping she’d be asleep before Dovepaw followed her in. Now that Bumblestripe and Blossomfall had moved to the warriors’ den, it would be hard to ignore her only denmate.

  Ivypaw shoved her nose under her paw and closed her eyes.

  “Ivypaw?” Dovepaw nosed her way through the ferns and settled in her nest. “Ivypaw?”

  Ivypaw slowed her breathing, pretending to be asleep. It had been a long day, and not even the niggling ache in her heart could keep her awake. Soon sleep dragged her deeper into her nest and wrapped her in its warmth.

  She opened her eyes into a dream. Mist swirled around her paws, and yowls rang in the cold, dead air. For the first time, her heart sank when she found herself in the Dark Forest. She wanted to sleep all night for once. Her scratches from the battle were stinging, and her paw hurt. Training day and night was exhausting. She closed her eyes, hoping the dream would fade, but the cold mist nipped harder at her paws.

  With a sigh, she opened her eyes. A stretch of short, bare grass sloped ahead of her, and the sky above loomed black and starless. Ivypaw stretched, preparing herself for the training session. At least her Dark Forest Clanmates never compared her to Dovepaw.

  Paws brushed the grass behind her, and she turned. A brown tom with a black ear—small, lithe, clearly from WindClan—approached. He halted and nodded a curt greeting. Ivypaw frowned, trying to remember who he was. She’d seen him at Gatherings. As she groped for the name, a voice beyond the crest of the slope called to him.

  “Antpelt!”

  Antpelt. That was it.

  As the brown warrior raced toward the voice, Ivypaw reared up on her hind legs, trying to glimpse who had greeted him. Pain shot through her sprained paw. Before she could spot another cat in the shadows, she dropped, landing heavily, back onto all fours.

  A mew behind her made her jump. “You look tired.”

  “Hi, Tigerheart.” She was pleased to see a cat she instantly recognized. His thick tabby pelt rippled over his powerful frame, but his eyes looked weary. “You look tired too,” she sympathized.

  “I wouldn’t mind one night’s rest.” He yawned.

  “I guess they want to toughen us up.”

  Tigerheart didn’t seem to hear her. “I don’t suppose Dovepaw came with you tonight, did she?”

  Ivypaw bristled. “They chose me, not her!” Not waiting for a response, she charged up the slope toward the trees, following the trail of crushed grass Antpelt had left. Breaking through the tree line, she hurtled into the shadows, rage pulsing in her ears. So much for being free from her sister here!

  Why did Tigerheart want to see Dovepaw anyway? Did he have a crush on her?

  She snorted. He’s wasting his time. There was no way Dovepaw would have anything to do with a cat from another Clan. She liked hearing Lionblaze tell her how amazing she was too much to risk breaking the warrior code.

  Growling, Ivypaw swerved among the trunks. She saw the matted orange-and-white pelt too late, and slammed into the side of a thick-furred she-cat. Recovering her balance, she turned on the warrior who’d blocked her way. “That was a dumb place to sit!” Ivypaw snarled, still seething.

  Before Ivypaw could draw breath, the orange-and-white she-cat leaped on her. Ivypaw felt claws at her neck, and her breath shot from her chest as the warrior thumped her to the ground and pinned her there. Terror flooded Ivypaw as she struggled for air. She froze as the warrior leaned slowly closer.

  With stinking breath and lips drawn back, the orange-and-white she-cat snarled, “Show some respect, apprentice.” She curled her claws until the thorn-sharp tips sank into Ivypaw’s skin. “You don’t want to die in a place like this. There’s nowhere beyond here, you know. Only darkness.”

  A tabby pelt flashed at the edge of Ivypaw’s vision. “All right, Mapleshade.”

  Ivypaw fell limp with relief as she recognized Hawkfrost’s meow.

  �
�Let her go.” There was a menacing growl in his voice, and Mapleshade released her grip.

  Ivypaw drew a long gulp of air and began to cough. Hacking, she scrambled to her paws, her belly brushing the earth as she crouched and tried to catch her breath. She was shaking from nose to tail.

  “Pull yourself together,” Hawkfrost snapped.

  Mapleshade flicked her tail. “Try to keep your visitors under control.” She turned and stalked away, muttering, “I preferred it here when it wasn’t overrun with wide-eyed idiots.”

  Ivypaw blinked up at Hawkfrost. “Sorry.”

  “Never mind Mapleshade,” he answered briskly. “She’s been here a long time. But not for much longer.”

  Ivypaw glanced nervously at the departing warrior. The shadows seemed to be swallowing her, and Ivypaw realized with a start that the she-cat’s outline hung in the air like mist. She could clearly see the trees on the other side of Mapleshade, where she should only have been able to see the warrior’s sturdy body. Ivypaw shivered. “Do all cats fade away?”

  “Eventually,” Hawkfrost growled. “If they survive long enough.”

  He headed away through the trees. Ivypaw hesitated for a moment, her belly tight. She never wanted to fade away. She shook out her fur and bounded after Hawkfrost.

  “Are you okay?” Hawkfrost was frowning at her hind paw as she caught up.

  Ivypaw remembered the sprain. “Fine, thanks.”

  Hawkfrost leaped a narrow gully in the forest floor. “If you’re not up to training, go home.”

  Ivypaw jumped after him, gritting her teeth as her paw jarred on landing. “You should be glad I’m here. Jayfeather knows.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. She hadn’t planned to tell, but she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

  Hawkfrost turned his head. “Knows what?”

  “That I come here,” Ivypaw confessed. “Dovepaw told me.”

  “So she knows, too.” Hawkfrost paused and stared at Ivypaw. “And?”

  What does he want me to say? Ivypaw shrugged. “And . . . nothing.”

  Hawkfrost nodded and set off again.

  “After all, I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?” Ivypaw hurried to catch up. “They should be grateful I’m doing extra training. ThunderClan warriors don’t seem to care about fighting. I spent all day building dens.”

  Hawkfrost’s pelt brushed the smooth bark of a tree. “You’re not doing anything wrong at all,” he told her. “Don’t you think I’d warn you if you were?”

  He led her into a clearing, where a gray-and-black rock jutted from the earth like the hunched back of an ancient badger. Cats circled the stone, and Ivypaw recognized Antpelt and Tigerheart. Tigerheart nodded a greeting, but Ivypaw ignored him. She was too busy looking for other cats she knew. She had never seen so many Clan cats in the Dark Forest before. She spotted the sleek, dark gray pelt of the RiverClan she-cat Minnowtail, and farther along, Breezepelt paced beneath a lightning-blasted pine tree.

  Ivypaw halted beside a small white tom. She shivered when she saw the long scar that parted his belly fur and curled over his shoulder to the tip of his ear like a bulging pink snake.

  Hawkfrost introduced them. “This is Snowtuft.”

  Ivypaw nodded shyly, trying not to stare at his scar.

  “That’s Shredtail, and that’s Sparrowfeather.” Hawkfrost flicked his tail toward two more Dark Forest warriors. Shredtail’s dark tabby pelt was crisscrossed with old wounds, and Sparrowfeather, a small mottled she-cat, had a muzzle that looked as though it had been savaged by a dog. Ivypaw curled her claws and lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to let her new Clanmates know how nervous she was feeling.

  “Thistleclaw!”

  Hawkfrost’s greeting made Ivypaw jump. She’d heard nursery tales about Thistleclaw. He’d been Tigerstar’s mentor, and some cats said it was Thistleclaw who’d first taught Firestar’s old enemy the meaning of cruelty. She jerked around to see a large tom pad slowly into the clearing. Uneven patches of gray mottled his white face. His white shoulders rippled with strength, and he lashed his long gray tail.

  “Good evening, Hawkfrost.” His sharp green eyes flashed at his Dark Forest ally. “Not many with us tonight.”

  “Only the best,” Hawkfrost replied.

  Thistleclaw slowly circled the rock. Ivypaw held her breath. What kind of training session would this be? She lifted the weight from her aching paw, hoping it would hold out.

  “You.” Thistleclaw nodded to Shredtail. “Get on the rock.”

  Shredtail scrambled up quickly and stood on the broad, smooth stone.

  Thistleclaw’s green gaze glittered. “I want you to work together,” he ordered. “You’ve got to knock him from the rock without letting him strike a blow to your heads.” He stared at Shredtail. “Do you understand?”

  Shredtail nodded.

  Thistleclaw stepped back. “Begin.”

  Sparrowfeather leaped first. She was small, but she was strong, and she unbalanced Shredtail momentarily with a savage blow to his face. Ivypaw bristled. Blood was welling on the warrior’s cheek. Were they supposed to train with unsheathed claws? She crouched down and launched herself at Shredtail, but she was knocked aside by Antpelt, who was making his own attack.

  “I said work together!” Thistleclaw yowled. He clouted Antpelt’s ear. Ivypaw felt something hot spatter against her neck, and smelled the salty tang of blood. She deliberately didn’t look at Antpelt, didn’t want to see how he had been punished for getting in her way. Instead she darted around the rock to where Tigerheart was standing on hind paws, batting at Shredtail and ducking to keep his head from being battered in return. Ivypaw reared up beside him and joined in.

  Shredtail was becoming frantic as cats swiped at him from every side. Whipping one way and then another, he tried to reach them with carefully aimed blows. Ivypaw ducked as he hooked a paw toward her, then reared as he turned to defend his back. She sprang forward and knocked him with both paws, delight rushing through her as she felt him stagger.

  Got you!

  But Shredtail spun and faced her, a snarl twitching on his lips. Ivypaw jerked backward as Shredtail slashed at her eyes with outstretched claws. He missed, but he was close enough for Ivypaw to feel her eyelashes shiver.

  Shock pulsed through her. He could have blinded me! As she dropped, trembling, onto four paws, Shredtail’s eyes suddenly widened in surprise, and he collapsed onto his belly as his hind legs were yanked out from under him. Ivypaw looked up to see Sparrowfeather hauling the young warrior from the rock, her teeth sunk deep into his flesh. Shredtail wailed in agony, his claws scraping over rock as he fought to cling on.

  “No!” Thistleclaw roared, and swung a paw that knocked Sparrowfeather off her feet. With a yowl she crashed, sprawling onto the grass.

  Ivypaw gasped. She’s not moving!

  The gray-and-white warrior swung his head around, his gaze swooping over the trembling cats. “I told you to knock him off.” His voice was terrifyingly soft. “Not drag him.” He glanced at Sparrowfeather. The small brown cat twitched and lifted her head. “You cheated,” Thistleclaw hissed.

  “Sorry.” Sparrowfeather’s mew was little more than a croak.

  Thistleclaw circled her slowly, then jabbed her with a paw. “Get up,” he growled. “It’s your turn.” He watched as she dragged herself to her paws and began to haul herself up onto the rock.

  “And this time, don’t cheat.”

  Chapter 8

  Flametail was bone tired.

  Clumsily he hauled himself over the lip of the hollow and followed the dimpled rock path that curved down to the Moonpool. He hadn’t slept in two days, and he flopped like a defeated warrior beside the water, his paws frozen and raw.

  The stone walls of the hollow glittered with ice. A sharp wind made the star-flecked pool shiver. Closing his eyes, Flametail rested his chin on his paws and let the tip of his nose touch the water. At once flames burst around him. The ice on the rock walls hissed and spat as the fire hi
t it.

  Flametail shot to his paws, spinning in panic. A sheet of dazzling orange flames blocked the path that led up from the pool. He cringed away, heart pounding, ears flattened. StarClan, help me! Blindly, he raced for the pool.

  “No, you fool!” A yowl made him halt.

  He turned, squinting as he spotted a feline shape, dark against the wall of fire. “Who are you?” As the cat approached, Flametail could make out the gray tabby pelt of a tom. It wasn’t any cat that he knew, though his fur smelled faintly of ShadowClan pines.

  “Stay away from the water,” the gray cat growled.

  “Don’t be afraid. Palefoot only wants to help.” Now a she-cat shimmered into view. The flames threw flickering shadows over her snowy pelt. Flametail recognized Sagewhisker, the ancient ShadowClan medicine cat.

  The StarClan warriors gazed at him calmly.

  “Can’t you see the flames?” Flametail wailed.

  “Look around you,” Sagewhisker murmured.

  Flametail stared around the fiery hollow. And gasped.

  Star-pelted cats lined the ledges and stone shelves of the hollow walls. Fire encircled them, making their fur shimmer, but not a flame touched them. Flametail tasted the air. Frost nipped his tongue. The air was cold. His pelt felt nothing but the icy night breeze. The fire was nothing more than a vision. It flamed silently around him, no more than cold light, illuminating the hollow.

  Fear drained from him. Breathing deeply with relief, Flametail scanned the ranks of his ancestors and recognized Runningnose, Nightpelt, and Fernshade. With a rush of joy he saw Russetfur. She looked young and strong, as she must have before he’d been born, her dark red fur sleek, her tail curled neatly over her paws. The light of the flames reflected in her dark, steady gaze.

  “Who do you see?” Sagewhisker prompted gently.

  “Runningnose, Fernshade . . .” he began. Why is she asking? She can see for herself. “Russetfur, Crowtail . . .” He began to recognize more pelts. “Stonetooth, Foxheart . . .” All long-dead ShadowClan warriors he’d met beside the Moonpool. “Just our ancestors.” Why was Sagewhisker staring at him so intently?