by Erin Hunter
Why didn’t StarClan tell me?
He blinked, focusing on which way the bubbles around him were drifting, then headed upward with a surge of hope. His paws thudded against a solid wall.
No!
He could see light beyond the whiteness, and scrabbled toward it. This time his claws ripped against the jagged underside of the ice. He saw movement above him, shadows over the ice. He heard yowls and mews calling his name as paws thundered above him.
Then the water began to pull him down. He was too tired to fight it. As the noise and chaos faded, Flametail felt numbness spread through his body. He let his paws grow still, allowed the water to cradle him.
Such quiet.
Such calm.
Suddenly the water started to churn. Flecks of ice and bubbles floated around him. He saw silky gray fur wafting near him.
Jayfeather? Had the ThunderClan medicine cat fallen in, too? It’s quiet here. He wanted to reassure his fellow medicine cat that everything was okay. Don’t fight it.
Suddenly claws tugged Flametail’s fur. Jayfeather had grabbed hold of him. He was trying to pull him up. Where did you learn to swim underwater?
Through the darkening depths, Flametail could see Jayfeather’s eyes; though blind, they seemed to be pleading with him. He stared back. It’s hopeless. The ice has blocked us in.
The current was pulling harder now, drawing them down despite Jayfeather’s flailing and struggling.
Then Flametail saw another pair of eyes. Bulging and white. There was a third cat in the water. A grotesque creature. Hairless and scarred. Flametail stared at it as it seemed to float beside them. A tiny part of his mind wondered if this was a StarClan cat he hadn’t met yet. But did any warriors, past or present, ever look like that?
The ugly cat reached toward Jayfeather.
Let him go!
Flametail heard the voice in his head. It wasn’t speaking to him. It was speaking to Jayfeather.
It is his time to die, not yours. Let him go!
Flametail felt Jayfeather’s claws unhook from his pelt. He began to sink, gazing up at the fading light.
Darkness swept over Flametail and the sunlight vanished forever.
Chapter 25
Ivypaw spotted a shrew scampering over the snow. She shot after it, lunging and pinning it by its tail before it realized what was happening. She muttered her thanks to StarClan and bent to give the killing bite.
The shrieking from the lake swelled. Now a shrill edge sharpened the yowls. Ivypaw lifted her head. The prey dangled from her jaws as she strained to hear, and she wished for a moment that she had her sister’s abilities. Then she unwished. It must be a real nuisance to have such power. How did Dovepaw ever manage to sleep?
The screeches from the lake echoed strangely in the frosty air. Ivypaw had wanted to go and play on the ice with Blossomfall and Rosepetal. But she’d promised herself she’d hunt for the Clan until she’d caught enough to make up for the herbs she’d cost her Clanmates. She knew she had to take at least half the blame for getting caught on the ShadowClan border. And it sounded like ThunderClan already owed Dovepaw more than they could ever repay.
She padded to a gnarled oak and began to dig between its roots. Beneath the snow lay a mouse and sparrow. She’d hunted since before sunhigh, and now weariness weighed down her paws. Scooping the two bodies out, she picked them up gently between her teeth and headed back to camp.
By the time she reached the barrier of thorns, the sun had dipped behind the treetops, and shadows enfolded the camp. Her Clanmates milled beneath Highledge, their pelts ruffled.
Jayfeather was padding toward his den. Ivypaw saw with surprise that his pelt was drenched. Leafpool fluttered around him and followed him through the brambles.
Ivypaw dropped her catch on the solitary squirrel and skinny starling that made up the fresh-kill pile. Graystripe came to admire her contribution. “Nice catch.”
“I’ve been hunting all day,” Ivypaw confessed.
Firestar’s mew rang across the clearing. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath Highledge.”
Thornclaw and Dustpelt padded from the warriors’ den. Poppyfrost hurried from the nursery while Daisy shooed the kits back inside the bramble den. Foxleap was already pacing, fur standing on end, at the foot of the rocks. Rosepetal watched him, her eyes round and dark, while Berrynose barged past Toadstep and Icecloud to sit at the front. Brambleclaw settled at the bottom of the rock tumble and stared at his paws, while Squirrelflight sat down a few tail-lengths away.
Ivypaw spotted her sister scurrying from the dirtplace tunnel. She joined her beside Whitewing. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
Whitewing shook her head and sighed.
“I have bad news,” Firestar began. “Flametail was playing on the lake and fell through the ice,” the ThunderClan leader announced.
Poppyfrost gasped. “Is he dead?”
“His body has not been found.” Firestar glanced toward the medicine den. “Jayfeather tried to save him, but Flametail was too heavy.”
Squirrelflight’s pelt bristled. “Is Jayfeather all right?”
Firestar nodded. “He’s cold, but Leafpool is with him. She’ll know what to do.”
Brambleclaw’s eyes darkened. Flametail was his littermate’s son. Ivypaw knew he’d feel the loss most sharply.
“In the future”—Firestar’s mew hardened—“any cat caught on the ice will be severely punished.”
Foxleap’s whiskers twitched. “Yeah,” he whispered. “By death.”
Squirrelflight hushed him with a flick of her tail.
Ivypaw felt her mother’s tail slip around her. “Promise you won’t go on the ice,” Whitewing murmured.
“Of course not,” Dovepaw meowed.
“No way.” Ivypaw shuddered, remembering her terrible panic when Mapleshade held her underwater in the black river.
Firestar leaped down from the Highledge and headed for the medicine den.
“Did any other ShadowClan cats fall in?” Dovepaw called to Foxleap as the young tom headed for the fresh-kill pile.
He shook his head. “Just Flametail.”
Ivypaw shuffled closer to Dovepaw. “Are you all right?”
Her sister’s ears were twitching. “We nearly lost Jayfeather,” she murmured.
“But he’s alive, right?”
Dovepaw nodded. “What if it had been Tigerheart?” Her eyes clouded.
“But it wasn’t.” Ivypaw brushed Dovepaw’s flank with her tail. “I bet you can hear him now.”
Dovepaw lifted her muzzle. Ivypaw could see her ears twitch as she strained to listen. Her sister’s faraway gaze softened. “He’s sitting vigil with the others.” She snapped her attention back to Ivypaw. “It’s like I can hear the emptiness where Flametail was.” Dovepaw pressed closer. “It must be awful to lose a littermate.” She wrapped her tail around Ivypaw. “You don’t have to go to the Dark Forest, you know.”
Ivypaw’s chest tightened. She wasn’t sure that she had any choice. It wasn’t like in the beginning, when her dreams had carried her to the meadow and she’d chosen to follow Hawkfrost into the woods. Now she opened her eyes straight into darkness whether she wanted to or not. But she had promised she would do this.
She wanted to help her Clan.
She wanted to help Dovepaw.
As she settled into her pile of moss, Ivypaw felt her sister bend over her.
“I’ll sleep next to you in your nest if you want,” Dovepaw offered. “Then I can wake you up if you seem to be in trouble.”
Ivypaw shook her head. “I’ve been there loads of times before, remember?” she mewed under her breath. “I’ll be okay.” I hope. She closed her eyes.
It was a long time before sleep overtook her. Dovepaw’s breathing had slowed by the time Ivypaw’s weary limbs relaxed and she slid into darkness. She opened her eyes and tasted the air. For the first time, her paws trembled.
“Hello, Ivypaw.”
Tigerstar watched her a moment. “Have you seen Tigerheart?”
“He’s sitting vigil for Flametail,” she mewed. “He may not come tonight.”
“Flametail, eh?” Tigerstar shrugged. He clearly knew all about the medicine cat’s death. “That’s one less, I guess.”
You fox-heart!
Tigerstar padded around her, letting his tail sweep her flank. “I’m glad you came.”
“What are we practicing tonight?” Ivypaw prayed the brightness in her mew was convincing.
“We may train later, but first I thought we should all get to know each other a little better.” He padded away between the soaring trunks. Mist puddled around his paws, swirling as he walked. “Are you coming?”
Ivypaw trotted after him. She felt sure her heart was pounding hard enough for anyone to hear. I must keep calm. I’m doing this for Dovepaw and my Clan.
She saw shapes in shadows around her. The dark outlines of warriors. As she followed Tigerstar deeper into the forest, she became aware that cats were everywhere, waiting in the mist, their paws scuffing the earth as they paced.
Were these Clan cats or Dark Forest warriors? She peered through the shadows, trying to recognize pelts. There was Mapleshade, scowling from the darkness. Scarred and ragged warriors circled her, growling and muttering to each other.
“I—I didn’t know there were so many cats here,” she mewed to Tigerstar.
“There are enough to match StarClan,” he answered calmly.
The trees opened into a gloomy clearing. She recognized the boulder they’d trained on almost a moon before. Thistleclaw was sharpening his claws on the smooth rock, admiring their clean tips between each scratch. Hawkfrost nodded a greeting to Ivypaw, while Darkstripe paced behind him. Shredtail and Snowtuft were there too. And, in the boulder’s shadow, unmoving and watchful, sat Brokenstar.
Ivypaw was relieved to see Hollowpaw, Antpelt, and Breezepelt. She’d begun to fear she was the only Clan cat here. Tigerstar glanced back at her. “You may as well sit with your friends,” he murmured. “I’ve an announcement to make.”
They’re not my friends! Yet she hurried toward the familiar faces and felt less nervous as she settled among them.
Tigerstar jumped onto the boulder. “Gather all cats old enough to catch their own prey.” There was a sneer in his voice, and the cats circling the rock purred in mocking amusement.
“The time is close!” Tigerstar growled.
Shapes moved from among the trees. More warriors began to stream from the shadows. Ivypaw’s heart pounded harder, and she huddled closer to Antpelt.
“The day is nearing!” Tigerstar’s growl became a hiss. “We are going to invade the world of the Clans and destroy them and their warrior code, once and for all.”
Ivypaw felt Antpelt tense beside her. Was he shocked? She searched his face, then Hollowpaw’s and Breezepelt’s. Their eyes were shining! It was as if they were truly Dark Forest warriors. Struggling to hide her horror, Ivypaw scanned the clearing. Cats filled every tail-length, yowling in fury.
“We’ll kill them all!”
“The days of the Clans are over.”
Mapleshade reared and slashed at the air. “They’ll be sorry we ever kitted them!”
Ivypaw pricked her ears. When were they going to attack? But Tigerstar only bared his teeth and slid, hissing, from the boulder. He slipped into the throng of cats, and Ivypaw lost sight of him. The air crackled with excitement as the cats paced and wove around each other, bristling.
A pair of eyes glinted at Ivypaw, and she found herself unsheathing her claws as Darkstripe padded toward her.
“Are you ready for the battle of your life?” There was a taunt in his mew.
Ivypaw glanced at the forest, wishing she could disappear into its shadows.
“Or do you want to leave?” Darkstripe seemed to guess what she was thinking.
“N-no, of course not.”
“Good.” He circled her, letting his tail slither over her spine. It felt like a snake, cold and heavy. Ivypaw wished Tigerheart were with her.
“Ivypaw!”
She looked up hopefully, disappointed when she saw Brokenstar heading toward them. The massive, scarred tom dipped his head to her. “Greetings, Ivypaw. I’ve been watching you train.” He shouldered Darkstripe out of the way. “Very impressive.”
Ivypaw met his gaze, keeping Darkstripe at the edge of her vision. Why was Brokenstar singling her out? Was he trying to make Darkstripe jealous?
“I have a special mission for you,” Brokenstar went on.
Ivypaw blinked. “Really?” Maybe it was a kind of assessment.
“Follow me.” Brokenstar headed into the trees.
Ivypaw trotted after him, her breath quickening as the dark tom climbed over a low rise and jumped down into an empty streambed. The gully meandered between twisted trunks and led them under low-slung branches that dripped with dusty gray moss. Ivypaw ducked beneath them, shuddering as the moss left cobwebby smears on her pelt.
She paused. Something was flitting through the brittle ferns on the bank. She peered through the mist, stiffening when she recognized Darkstripe’s pelt.
“Go away, Darkstripe!” Brokenstar’s yowl made Ivypaw jump. She wasn’t the only one to have spotted the shadow.
The scrawny outline froze, then slid from sight.
“He’s no better than a whining kit,” Brokenstar muttered. He flicked his tail toward the nearest tree. “Show me your climbing skills.”
“Okay.” Ivypaw leaped onto the lowest branch and clawed her way up the thick, knotted trunk. When her paws started to ache, she stopped to catch her breath and looked up. There was still no sign of sky. How tall is this tree? Far below, she could see Brokenstar watching from the streambed.
“Not bad!” Brokenstar called. “See if you can get down faster, though.”
Concentrating hard, Ivypaw let herself drop a tail-length at a time, clutching at the bark to control her fall. As the ground grew near, she pushed away from the tree and landed nimbly on a patch of slimy grass at the edge of the gully.
Brokenstar bounded up the bank and joined her. “Now show me an attack lunge.”
Ivypaw crouched down, unsheathed her claws, and focused on a clump of moss a few tail-lengths ahead. She sprang and hit the moss squarely, then flipped over, lashing out with her hind legs before jumping back onto all fours.
“You’re fast.” Brokenstar faced her. “How are your defensive moves?” The words still hung in the air as he pounced.
Just in time, Ivypaw saw his claws flash and ducked. With a jerk of her spine, she rolled out of his way. She guessed he’d anticipate her and shot forward as soon as her paws hit the ground.
She was right. Brokenstar’s claws pierced the spot where she’d been a half moment earlier. She spun around and confronted him, hackles up, teeth bared, prepared for another attack.
Brokenstar sat down. “Nice.”
Ivypaw’s heart was thudding so loud she was convinced Brokenstar would be able to hear it. Where was her mission? Was he just testing her skills?
“I have one final task for you before you can fight alongside your new Clanmates.”
Ivypaw pricked her ears. This was an assessment! “What is it?”
Something moved in the shadows at the edge of the clearing.
Darkstripe?
“Come out!” Brokenstar called.
Ivypaw gripped the earth as an orange-colored cat padded out of the ferns.
“Flametail?”
The ShadowClan medicine cat’s eyes were stretched wide. “Did you fall through the ice, too?”
Ivypaw shook her head. “I—I . . .” Words choked in her throat. How could she explain why she was here? “H-how did you get here?”
“I was in StarClan.” He squinted, puzzled, up through the branches. “I heard a noise in the bushes and followed it. It kept moving ahead of me, whispering my name, so I followed it until I got here. But . . . but this doesn’t feel like StarClan anymore.” He shifted his paws. “Do you know the way back?”
Ivypaw stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“Kill him.” Brokenstar’s order cut through the silence.
A bolt of panic shot through Ivypaw. “What?”
He can’t mean it!
Then she understood. It was a trap—one that she wasn’t going to fall into like a dandelion-brained rabbit. “I can’t.” She looked triumphantly at Brokenstar. “He’s already dead.” He’s not catching me out with stupid questions.
Brokenstar’s whiskers quivered. “So young, so innocent,” he growled. “No cat stays in StarClan forever. They all fade in the end.” His gaze ran over Flametail as if the medicine cat were a juicy piece of prey. “Unless someone kills them first.”
Ivypaw narrowed her eyes. “That’s not true! This is where cats come for the rest of all the moons!”
“Oh, it’s true,” Brokenstar assured her. “It’s also unimaginably painful to give up the last dying echo of one’s life.”
Ivypaw started to back away. “I’m not killing him.”
Brokenstar’s muzzle was suddenly a whisker from hers. His hot, rancid breath stung her eyes. “Why?” he hissed. “Are you a Dark Forest warrior or not?”
Ivypaw blinked. “I—I . . .”
Brokenstar’s gaze scorched her. “I don’t know why Hawkfrost chose you,” he snarled. “I think your loyalties will always be with your Clanmates beside the lake.” He stepped closer. “Which makes you dangerous.”
“I thought you wanted dangerous cats,” Ivypaw spat back. If she could defend herself convincingly, surely Brokenstar would let Flametail go?
Brokenstar’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what your sister is.”
“So?”
“You’re her littermate.”
“If you know so much,” Ivypaw hissed, “then you must know that I’m not part of the prophecy.”
“But you share her blood. Would you really betray that? Or should I kill her instead, to be sure that your loyalties are not divided?”