Night Whispers

by Erin Hunter

  Suddenly a stone rocked beneath her paws, and she slipped. The water sucked her under before she could take a breath. Paws churning, Ivypaw panicked.

  It’s not that deep, she told herself sharply, and struck out, finding the riverbed with her paws. Her head broke the surface, whiskers dripping, eyes streaming. She spat out the water she’d nearly swallowed. It tasted rank, like crow-food but worse.

  Darkstripe watched her, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I can see you’re no RiverClan cat,” he meowed smoothly.

  “And I wouldn’t want to be!” Ivypaw’s defiant reply was ruined as she lost her footing again and slipped under the water once more. She struggled, reaching for the bottom, but a lithe shape slid beneath her and knocked her hind legs from under her just as Hawkfrost had demonstrated.

  Darkstripe! He’d started the training before she’d had a chance to take a breath.

  Ivypaw rolled in the current and floundered with her paws flailing. She fought the urge to breathe in, but her lungs ached for air. Then a paw pressed down on her spine, and she was trapped on the bottom of the river. The water flowed over her. Panic swelled in her chest. She had to breathe. She tried to struggle, but Darkstripe pressed harder, pushing the last gasp of breath from her.

  StarClan, help me!

  A shadow moved beside her, just recognizable through the muddy water. It was the pale, sleek-furred belly of a RiverClan cat.

  Hollowpaw!

  The apprentice grabbed Ivypaw’s scruff and heaved her clear of Darkstripe’s paws. Through the murk, Ivypaw could make out the shadowy outline of the Dark Forest warrior fishing around the riverbed with swiping paws. Close beside her, Hollowpaw signaled toward Darkstripe’s hind legs with his muzzle, bubbles spilling from his nose. Ivypaw understood. Though her lungs screamed for air, her panic had faded. She could last a little longer. Together they turned and pulled themselves along the riverbed like a pair of otters and knocked Darkstripe’s hind paws out from beneath him.

  As he collapsed into the water, Ivypaw shot skyward and broke the surface, gasping. Hollowpaw bobbed up next to her, and they shared a yowl of triumph. Downstream, the water splashed and frothed as Darkstripe struggled to find his footing.

  As Darkstripe fought his way clumsily upstream to join them, Hollowpaw whispered to Ivypaw, “Stay clear of his paws.” Then the RiverClan apprentice swam back toward Snowtuft.

  Ivypaw called innocently to Darkstripe, “Do you want to try the move out on me?”

  The tabby warrior narrowed his eyes. Water dribbled from his chin. “Okay.” Was that wariness in his gaze?

  Ivypaw leaned into the current, bracing her paws against a rock on the riverbed. She wasn’t going to cheat. She waited for Darkstripe to take a breath and prepared to feel his paws knock out her hind legs. As he pulled them out from under her, she darted forward like a fish, escaping his reach. She didn’t even go under.

  Amazed that she felt so at ease in the warm, greasy water, she turned, ready to try the move again on Darkstripe. Utterly focused now, she swiped his paws from under him and swam clear in one clean, quick move. She felt a surge of pride. No other ThunderClan warrior was trained to fight in water.

  Breaking the surface, she saw Hawkfrost beckoning the trainees from the bank with his thick, mackerel-striped tail. “Not bad,” he called as they padded, drenched, from the river.

  Ivypaw shook out her pelt, not caring that she sprayed Darkstripe.

  “Though I expected better of you, Darkstripe,” Hawkfrost sneered at the skinny warrior. “I would have thought you could hold your own against an untrained apprentice.”

  Darkstripe snorted and slunk away into the trees.

  “Ivypaw?” Tigerstar’s mew made her jump. She jerked around to see the dark warrior slide from the water and pad up the bank.

  “All ThunderClan cats should learn to get their paws wet.” He shook out his pelt. “You had some nice moves there.”

  Ivypaw dipped her head. “Thanks.”

  “Have you seen Tigerheart?”

  The question took her by surprise. “Me?” Did Tigerstar know that she always kept her eyes open for the young tom when she was in the forest? “No.”

  “He’s late again,” he growled. “He’s been coming later and later every night. Is he sick?”

  “I can ask at the next Gathering,” Ivypaw offered. Her ear twitched.

  “I’ll track him down.” Tigerstar’s tone made Ivypaw shiver. Was Tigerheart in trouble for staying away?

  Hawkfrost cleared his throat. “Time to leave.” Far away through the trees, beyond the edge of the Dark Forest, the sky was lightening. Ivypaw stifled a yawn as she turned and headed away from the river.

  “See you tomorrow,” Hollowpaw whispered before vanishing into shadow.

  The trees around Ivypaw melted into ferns, and she found herself curled in her nest. She could hear Dovepaw breathing.

  She’s back.

  But only in the last few moments. Her breathing was fast, as though she’d just settled down, and the scent of snow was fresh on her pelt. Ivypaw’s nose twitched. There was another scent in Dovepaw’s fur, too. A familiar one. Ivypaw tried to remember what it reminded her of, but her eyes were growing heavy. Exhausted, she slid into sleep.

  “What’s this?” Whitewing’s shocked mew woke Ivypaw.

  She jerked up her head. “What?”

  “Blood!” Her mother’s eyes were round. “Blood in your nest.” The white warrior ducked down to sniff at the moss sticking out among the twigs and gasped. “It’s on you, too! Are you hurt?”

  Ivypaw flinched away. “What are you doing in here?”

  “The dawn patrol left ages ago, and neither of you was up, so I came in to wake you.”

  Dovepaw climbed blearily out of her nest. “I guess we’ve been training hard.”

  “Is that why there’s blood in your nest?” Whitewing was staring at Ivypaw, her eyes dark with worry.

  The ferns rustled, and Bumblestripe poked his head in. “What’s all the noise?” he demanded.

  “Get Jayfeather,” Whitewing ordered. “Ivypaw’s hurt.”

  “No!” Ivypaw protested, “I’m fine.” But Bumblestripe had already gone.

  Ivypaw felt hot under her fur. No one needed to know about the scratches Thistleclaw had left on her neck. She thought the river had washed them clean, but clearly they’d still been oozing when she’d returned from the Dark Forest. She glanced down at the moss. It was dark where blood had soaked it. Her gaze caught Dovepaw’s.

  “It must be a thorn in the moss,” Ivypaw mewed quickly.

  Come on, Dovepaw! Back me up.

  Dovepaw shrugged. “Yeah, a thorn,” she mewed before pushing her way out of the den.

  Thanks a lot! Ivypaw was fuming that Dovepaw had left her to calm down their mother by herself. “Maybe there’s a sharp stone in my nest.”

  “Let me look.” Whitewing bundled Ivypaw out of the way and began sifting through the moss with her paws. “I can’t feel anything.”

  Jayfeather nosed his way into the den, carrying a folded leaf. Bumblestripe and Cinderheart barged in after. Ivypaw backed away from her nest.

  Jayfeather dropped the leaf at her paws and opened it. It was smeared with thick green ointment. “Let me check you over,” he ordered.

  Ivypaw shuffled away. “It’s just a scratch.” He knows I visit the Dark Forest. He’ll guess this isn’t a thorn scratch.

  Cinderheart was sniffing in Ivypaw’s nest. “All that blood from a thorn?”

  “This might hurt a bit.” Jayfeather began smearing thick pulp onto Ivypaw’s scruff.

  Please don’t tell. Fear throbbed harder than pain.

  Jayfeather sighed. “It’s nothing too serious, but I can smell some infection.” He wiped another pawful of pulp from the leaf wrap. “You should be more careful.”

  Ivypaw shrank under her pelt. There was an edge in his mew. He knew exactly where she’d gotten the wound.

  “Will she be okay?” Cinderheart
fretted.

  Whitewing pushed closer. “Has the bleeding stopped?”

  Go away! Ivypaw’s ears pounded. The cuts were stinging where Jayfeather was rubbing in ointment. Just leave me alone!

  “She’ll live.” Jayfeather sat back on his haunches and refolded the leaf. “Come for fresh ointment tonight.” He picked up the leaf in his teeth and headed out of the den.

  As he left, Dovepaw slid back in.

  “Have you come to watch, too?” Ivypaw snapped.

  Dovepaw leaned past Cinderheart into Ivypaw’s nest, rummaged for a moment, and then sat up. “Is this what you were looking for?” She spat a long thorn onto the ground.

  Whitewing pawed it gingerly. “No wonder there was so much blood!”

  Cinderheart frowned. “How did that get in there without you noticing?”

  Ivypaw felt a flood of warmth for her sister. As Dovepaw stretched forward and sniffed at her wounds, Ivypaw whispered in her ear, “Thank you.”

  Dovepaw grunted. “This isn’t over.” She pulled away.

  “Come on.” Whitewing flicked Bumblestripe gently with her tail. “Let’s leave Ivypaw to rest.” She guided the young warrior out of the den. Dovepaw followed, her tail flicking as she disappeared through the ferns.

  Cinderheart was staring anxiously at Ivypaw.

  “What?” Ivypaw snapped.

  Cinderheart sighed. “If those scratches are infected already, they must be deep.”

  Ivypaw climbed into her nest. All she wanted to do now was sleep.

  Cinderheart’s tail twitched. “You must be tired.” She touched Ivypaw’s head with a gentle paw. Ivypaw felt it tremble.

  “Is anything wrong?” Cinderheart whispered, leaning closer. “You can tell me anything, I promise. Those wounds couldn’t have been caused by a thorn. You’d have been awake and out of your nest at the first prick.” She sat back and gazed at Ivypaw. “And a thorn wouldn’t have caused infection so quickly, no matter how deeply it scratched. Besides . . .” She peered at Ivypaw’s wounds. “Thorn scratches don’t rip at the flesh like that.”

  Ivypaw had grown stiff as dead prey. What could she say? Her mind whirled while her body froze.

  “Tell me the truth,” Cinderheart pressed quietly. “I won’t be angry. I just need to know how I can help you.”

  Ivypaw took a deep breath. “I’ve been practicing at night.”

  “Practicing?”

  “I want to be the best ThunderClan warrior ever.” And I’m going to be!

  “Oh.” The word escaped Cinderheart as a sigh. “I understand.” She sounded relieved. “Of course you want to be the best. And you’ve been out in the forest training by yourself.”

  “Yes.” Ivypaw cringed. She hated lying to her mentor, who had done nothing but treat her fairly. It’s close to the truth, she told herself. “Dovepaw’s so good at everything. Everybody treats her like a warrior already. Firestar asks her for advice, and Lionblaze never does anything without her . . .”

  Cinderheart stiffened. “You’re every bit as good as Dovepaw!” she hissed. “I couldn’t be prouder of you! If you want to do more training, we’ll fit it in during the day. You’re a growing cat; you need your rest.”

  Ivypaw nodded dutifully.

  “Will you promise me that you won’t go out again at night?” Cinderheart prompted. “There’s no one to look out for you when the Clan’s sleeping. Who knows what might happen? What if that fox came back?” Worry edged her mew. “You’re as good as any warrior. You don’t need to sneak around training in secret.” Cinderheart’s eyes burned into Ivypaw’s. “Promise me you won’t leave the camp at night again!”

  Ivypaw stared at her paws, guilt pricking her belly. “I promise,” she muttered.

  Chapter 16

  Dovepaw barged out of the apprentices’ den after Whitewing and Bumblestripe. Let Cinderheart fuss over her! I found her a thorn. She can explain the rest.

  But her rage quickly ebbed. She wasn’t angry. She was scared. Every night she went to sleep wondering what wounds Ivypaw would wake with. And what if Ivypaw started thinking like a Dark Forest warrior? She needed to talk to Jayfeather. He had to help. She headed for his den.

  She stalked past the fresh-kill pile, where Purdy was turning over a muddy-looking mouse. “Do you think this will appeal to Mousefur?” he rasped.

  Dovepaw paused. “What?”

  “It doesn’t look like much.” Purdy dangled the scrawny mouse from a claw. “But it might tempt her.”

  “Isn’t she hungry?” Dovepaw was surprised. Surely every cat in the Clan must be hungry?

  Squirrelflight hurried over. “Does she have a fever?”

  Purdy shook his head. “She just seems tired and sad.” His shoulders drooped. “I was hoping there would be something on the fresh-kill pile to cheer her up.”

  “One of the hunting patrols should be back soon,” Squirrelflight meowed. “They might bring something.” She glanced at Dovepaw. “Isn’t Lionblaze taking you out?”

  Dovepaw shrugged. “When he’s ready.” Besides, I have something else to do first. She glanced toward the medicine den, hoping Bumblestripe wouldn’t be hanging around there long.

  Purdy let the mouse fall with a soft thud into the snow. “If I were a few seasons younger, I’d go out myself.” He stared dreamily up to the top of the hollow. “I was quite a hunter in my youth. I could catch rabbits.” He puffed out his chest. “And pheasants, although . . .” His whiskers twitched. “Pheasants aren’t that hard to catch. They prefer eating to flying.”

  Dovepaw blinked, her attention snatched from Jayfeather. “You caught pheasants?” Purdy wasn’t small, but even he must have been outweighed by a pheasant.

  “When I was younger, nothing was too big for me.” Sighing, the old cat headed away toward the elders’ den.

  Dovepaw dipped her head to Squirrelflight and hurried to the medicine den.

  Bumblestripe was pacing beside Briarlight’s nest. “You should have seen it! So much blood. All from one thorn. And she’d been sleeping on it all night and hadn’t noticed.”

  Jayfeather was soaking his pulp-stained paws in the pool. “Don’t exaggerate, Bumblestripe.” He snatched them out and began licking them. “It was nothing more than a couple of scratches.”

  “I’m going to be checking moss for Jayfeather now,” Briarlight announced proudly. “I’m the thorn patrol.” She looked across at the medicine cat. “Perhaps I should check the moss for the nursery before it goes in the nests.”

  Dovepaw was about to call to Jayfeather, but he was already crossing the den toward her. “I’m sure Daisy and Poppyfrost would appreciate you checking the kits’ moss,” he told Briarlight as he passed her nest. “I’ve got to go out for a while. Bumblestripe, keep Briarlight company. But no more wild stories, please.”

  Jayfeather swished past Dovepaw. “Come on,” he whispered, pushing through the brambles. “We need to talk.”

  Finally! Was Jayfeather going to start taking Ivypaw’s visits to the Dark Forest seriously? She hurried after him. Without breaking his stride, Jayfeather nodded to Lionblaze. The golden warrior broke away from Firestar and Brambleclaw and bounded after them. Firestar watched, eyes narrowed, as the three padded out of camp.

  “Right.” Jayfeather halted in a clearing on the bracken-covered slope outside the hollow. He fixed his blind stare on Dovepaw. “You’ve got to stop Ivypaw coming back from the Dark Forest in such a state. She’s going to give everything away.”

  Dovepaw stared at him, openmouthed. Rage roared up from her belly. “I’ve got to stop her?” she spat. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do? And not just because all her scratches and swellings and sprains might give away our secret.” She thrust her muzzle into Jayfeather’s face. “Because I’m scared she’s going to get killed!”

  “Calm down.” Lionblaze wove between them. “You’re right, Dovepaw. Ivypaw is getting hurt too often, and it’s our duty to protect her.”

  Dovepaw let out a slow breath.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along!”

  “But,” Lionblaze added, “we can’t follow her into her dreams.”

  “Jayfeather can!” Dovepaw pointed out.

  Lionblaze shook his head. “Tigerstar’s already warned him away from the Dark Forest once. We can’t risk him going there again.”

  “But you can risk Ivypaw going there night after night,” Dovepaw fumed.

  “She’s one of them,” Jayfeather reminded her. “They won’t hurt her on purpose, as long as they think she’s on their side.”

  “Can’t you just talk to her?” Dovepaw looked pleadingly from Jayfeather to Lionblaze. “Tell her she can’t go. She might listen to you.”

  Lionblaze ran his tail along Dovepaw’s spine. “Do you really think she’d listen?”

  Dovepaw’s heart sank. No. Ivypaw seemed convinced that Tigerstar was making her a great warrior. She’d never give that up.

  “Besides,” Jayfeather sat down and tucked his tail over his paws, “we need her in the Dark Forest more than ever.”

  Lionblaze’s attention flashed toward his brother. “Why?”

  “Yellowfang visited me and warned me that we must fight the Dark Forest alone.”

  Lionblaze cocked his head. “Alone?”

  “All the medicine cats are being told the same thing. We must cut all ties to other Clans and face the danger alone.”

  “Do the other Clans know about the Dark Forest warriors?” Lionblaze flattened his ears.

  “No.” Jayfeather shifted his paws. “StarClan seems to know, but they’re keeping it from the medicine cats.”

  “Why?” Dovepaw demanded.

  “They might not want to scare them.” Jayfeather shrugged. “They might simply not know who to trust anymore.”

  “Why don’t you tell the medicine cats?” Dovepaw asked.

  “Yellowfang ordered me to keep my mouth shut.” Jayfeather shifted his paws. “And when I tried to warn Kestrelflight and Willowshine, I had a vision.”