by Erin Hunter
He paused at the top, listening for the voices that had guided him last time. But the only sound was the wind spiraling into the hollow and the trickling of water as it echoed around the rocks. He padded down the paw-dimpled stone to the Moonpool, stopping when he felt cold water lap the tips of his paws.
The breath of the other cats warmed the air as they ringed the pool.
“StarClan!” Leafpool called up to the sky. “I bring you Jaypaw, my apprentice, and pray you accept him as you once accepted me.”
Jaypaw heard the soft chafing of fur on stone as the cats settled down at the water’s edge, and he lay down beside Leafpool, tucking his paws under his chest. He did not touch
his nose to the water immediately. Instead he listened until the other cats’ breathing fell into the deep rhythm of sleep.
Only then did he close his eyes and lower his head until the icy water stung his nose.
In an instant he was in StarClan’s hunting grounds, the undergrowth pricking his pelt. He blinked, adjusting to the shock of sight, letting his eyes get used to the chaotic colors until they fell into shapes he could recognize. Trees soared around him, their green leaves trembling against a bright blue sky.
Does it look like this to Willowpaw? he wondered. He pricked his ears, listening for her. Do we share the same forest when we dream?
Sniffing, he searched for her scent and it appeared on the breeze, almost as if he had drawn it to him. He padded quietly toward her, keeping low, somehow aware that he was trespassing.
“Mudfur?” her soft voice was calling.
Jaypaw peered over the root of an oak and saw her gazing around a clearing. She was smaller than he had imagined. Her body was sleek and lithe, and her tabby markings were hardly more than delicate stripes along her pelt.
“Yes, little one?” A mottled tom padded out from the ferns and greeted her, touching his muzzle to hers.
Jaypaw ducked down.
“It is good to see you, Mudfur,” Willowpaw mewed.
“You dealt well with Dapplepaw’s stomachache.”
“Was I right to give her reassurance rather than herbs?”
Willowpaw sounded anxious.
“Yes. She got better on her own, and the herbs can be saved for a cat with greater need,” Mudfur praised her.
Jaypaw peeped over the root again. Willowpaw was flicking her tail happily. “Have you news to share with RiverClan?” she asked.
“Beware the Twolegs upstream. Their kits are trying to block the water that feeds the Clan.”
“I’ll warn Mothwing,” Willowpaw promised.
Jaypaw’s whiskers tingled. Why didn’t Mudfur tell Mothwing himself? Had the two cats argued? Would he share tongues only with Willowpaw?
He backed away from the oak tree. If Willowpaw was dreaming of Mudfur, what was Mothwing dreaming of? He opened his mouth to taste the air, searching out Mothwing’s scent.
He smelled nothing. Willowpaw’s scent had disappeared, as though her dream had slipped from his paws. He tried to draw Mothwing’s scent to him, as he had done with Willowpaw, but nothing came. He closed his eyes and allowed the forest to slide from his consciousness, letting himself fall back to the hollow. When he opened his eyes, the Moonpool was shining far below him. He could see the other cats still sleeping around the pool—including him. Mothwing was breathing more heavily than the others, her body twitching while the others lay motionless.
Closing his eyes, Jaypaw focused on her mind, willing himself into her thoughts. He smelled prey, and then water, and opened his eyes to find himself among reeds at the edge of a
lake. Mothwing was a few tails ahead of him, stalking a frog.
She pounced on it as it hopped, then let it go and watched it hop again, her whiskers twitching with amusement as it struggled clumsily among the reeds. A butterfly fluttered above her head, and she sprang up and grabbed it from the air, holding it close so that its wings tickled her nose.
With a jolt, Jaypaw realized this was not StarClan’s hunting grounds. This was the shore of the lake that stretched between ThunderClan and RiverClan. The RiverClan medicine cat was dreaming the ordinary dreams of any Clan cat.
Chapter 20
Were any more of the medicine cats dreaming ordinary dreams?
Jaypaw let his vision flit back to StarClan’s hunting grounds.
He wanted to see the other cats, find out which ones truly shared with StarClan. Sunlight flickered once again through the trembling canopy of leaves and warmed his pelt.
He was back.
“Spottedleaf was right.” A rasping purr sounded from the long grass beside him. The grass quivered as a disheveled she-cat padded out. Her long, pale fur was matted in places, and her pawsteps were heavy. Jaypaw recognized her broad, flat face at once. It was the face that had stared directly at him from the ranks of StarClan when he had first seen them at the hollow.
“What did Spottedleaf say?” he asked.
“She warned me not to leave you to your own devices too long.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” he mewed defensively.
“I’ve lived long enough to learn the look of mischief on a kit’s face,” she grunted.
“I’m not a kit!” Jaypaw retorted.
“At my age, you all appear like kits.” The old cat’s mew croaked with amusement.
“Who are you?” he meowed.
“Yellowfang. I was ThunderClan’s medicine cat before Cinderpelt. You’ve heard of Cinderpelt, I assume?”
“Of course,” Jaypaw mewed, lifting his chin. “Leafpool keeps looking for her among StarClan, but she can’t find her.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Have you seen her?”
“Yes, I’ve seen her,” Yellowfang answered. “But I didn’t come here to talk about Cinderpelt.” She cleared her throat.
“You’re trying to walk in other cats’ dreams, aren’t you?”
“So what if I am?”
“You should be careful,” she warned. “A cat with big ears sometimes hears more than he should.”
“And who decides what I should and should not hear?”
Jaypaw countered.
“You do.” Yellowfang’s gaze burned into his. “But you are young, and curiosity can be dangerous. Be careful where you tread.”
Jaypaw bristled. Why was this old fleabag telling him what to do? “Leafpool knows I can walk in other cats’ dreams,” he snapped. “She told me it was a special gift.”
“It is,” Yellowfang agreed.
“Then why shouldn’t I use it?”
“You have claws?” Yellowfang’s eyes glinted as she asked him the question.
“Of course!”
“Then why don’t you silence me by shredding me with them?”
What a stupid question. “You’re a member of StarClan!” he retorted. “I wouldn’t attack you.”
“Why not?”
“It would be wrong!” What did she think he was? A weasel? “You’re my ancestor and my elder—”
“And I’m three times your size.” Amusement rumbled once more in Yellowfang’s mew.
Jaypaw stared at her. What was she trying to say?
“There are many reasons why we don’t use every power we have. Sometimes the warrior code guides us, sometimes instinct, sometimes common sense.” She leaned closer toward Jaypaw, and he tried not to shrink away from her stale breath. “You have a remarkable gift, Jaypaw, but you must think before you use it.”
Was she calling him stupid? Jaypaw lashed his tail mutinously.
Yellowfang narrowed her eyes and sighed. “Kits!” she muttered. “I’m wasting my breath.” She turned, ready to leave.
“Wait!” Jaypaw wasn’t going to lose a chance to speak with StarClan. He wanted to solve the puzzle of Mothwing. “Do you often share things with the medicine cats?”
Yellowfang glanced back at him, her eyes glittering with suspicion. “Sometimes. Why?”
“Have you spoken with Mothwing?”
Yellowfang’s ears twit
ched. “You want me to waste more
words on answers you won’t understand?”
“I just want to know if you’ve spoken to her.”
“You are driven only by curiosity,” Yellowfang hissed.
“That is not a good enough reason.”
Jaypaw plucked at the ground with annoyance. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because,” Yellowfang growled, “if the answers are there, you will find them anyway.”
Before he could say anything else, the old cat stalked away into the grass. It quivered, then fell still, and her scent disappeared like mist in the wind.
Jaypaw itched with crossness. There was so much he wanted to know; why couldn’t StarClan just be open with him? Well, he decided, if the answers are there to be discovered, I’ll discover them!
He padded through the trees, trying to draw the scent of another medicine cat to him. A WindClan odor, earthy as moorland air, hit him.
Barkface.
Eagerly, Jaypaw followed his scent. He ducked low and crept through a clump of ferns, weaving carefully between the stems so as not to set them rustling. Peeking out the other side, he spied Barkface. The medicine cat’s eyes were shadowed with worry. Another tom stood with him—WindClan by his scent, his pelt black and white.
“How many dogs will come, Tallstar?” Barkface asked fearfully.
“I don’t know,” Tallstar replied.
“When will they reach us?”
“The Twolegs will bring them when they bring the sheep to eat the newleaf grass,” Tallstar told him. “You must be ready.”
“I will warn Onestar.”
As Jaypaw watched Barkface dip his head to the Clan leader, he felt soft fur brush his pelt. Startled, he jerked his head around.
Spottedleaf was beside him. “This is not your dream,” she mewed sharply.
Jaypaw bristled. Everywhere he went, there were cats telling him what to do! “I’m only watching,” he objected.
“You were not given this gift so you could spy on other Clans,” Spottedleaf scolded.
“Then tell me why I was given this gift at all,” Jaypaw demanded.
Before Spottedleaf could answer, another voice called his name.
“Jaypaw?”
He felt a muzzle nudging his shoulder.
“It’s time to wake up.” Leafpool’s warm breath ruffled his fur.
He opened his eyes to darkness. The forest was gone and the Moonpool lapped at his paws. He could hear the other cats stirring. Littlecloud and Barkface were padding around the Moonpool, while Leafpool stood quietly at his side.
“Did you dream?” he asked her.
“Yes.”
Jaypaw’s whiskers twitched with curiosity. Shadows were clouding Leafpool’s thoughts. “What did you dream about?”
“A medicine cat does not discuss what StarClan shares with her unless there is good reason to,” she told him.
Did that mean he couldn’t tell her about Onestar’s warning to Barkface? Then he’d tell Firestar as soon as he reached camp. It was his duty. His tail trembled with anticipation.
Firestar would be impressed.
Mothwing was yawning on the other side of the
Moonpool, as though she had enjoyed her sleep. Jaypaw leaned forward, focusing on her thoughts, but he could per-ceive only a careful blankness in her mind.
Willowpaw’s excitement suddenly flitted across the Moonpool, breaking his concentration like a warm breeze disturbing fallen leaves. I bet she’s dying to pass on Mudfur’s message.
He felt her curious stare graze his pelt, and wondered if she had noticed him eavesdropping in her dream. He turned away from her quickly.
“Come on, Willowpaw!” Mothwing called. “It’s too cold to hang around.”
“We should get home,” Leafpool meowed.
“Have you got something important to tell Firestar?”
Mothwing asked.
“I want to be back in camp before the dawn patrol leaves,”
she replied. “Or they’ll waste time searching for us before they check the borders.” She turned and followed Barkface and Littlecloud to the top of the ridge. Jaypaw padded after her. At the top he glanced backward, finding only stillness and silence.
“You go first,” Mothwing meowed. She waited for him to scramble down after the others and caught up with him as he followed them down the narrow valley.
“How’s your training going?” she asked.
“Okay, I suppose,” Jaypaw replied. He thought for a moment. “The best bit is sharing with StarClan.” He held his breath, waiting to see how she would react.
“Of course,” came the unsatisfying reply. “Any tough cases?” Jaypaw noticed she changed the subject immediately.
He thought of Stormfur. “One warrior has a scratch that won’t heal.”
“What are you treating it with?”
“Honey-and-horsetail poultices,” he replied. “But he rubs them off as quickly as I put them on. His nest is sticky with honey, and there’s a trail of it over half the camp.”
“Have you tried covering the scratch with catchweed after you’ve put on the poultice?”
Jaypaw recalled the feel of the fuzzy green balls on long, clinging stems. The tiny catchweed burrs would stick to Stormfur’s thick pelt without hurting and stop the poultice from being rubbed. “Thanks,” he mewed. “I’ll try it.”
“It helps to share ideas,” Mothwing commented.
“Does StarClan give you good advice, too?” he asked inno-cently, but Mothwing appeared not to hear. She was already hurrying to catch up with Willowpaw.
Jaypaw’s mind buzzed with curiosity as they trekked to the WindClan border. Mothwing kept a few pawsteps ahead of him, until the cats paused at their meeting place.
“Good-bye,” Littlecloud meowed as he turned toward the lake.
“See you at the Gathering,” Mothwing added, dipping her head to Leafpool.
“Travel carefully,” Leafpool called as Littlecloud, Mothwing, and Willowpaw headed lakeward together. “I’ll remember to leave those herbs for you, Littlecloud.”
“Thanks, Leafpool,” the ShadowClan cat called over his shoulder.
Barkface crossed the border into his own territory. “Take care,” he meowed.
And you. Jaypaw heard the heather rattle as the WindClan cat hurried home.
Left alone with Leafpool, Jaypaw was aware that the air had grown colder. He fluffed out his pelt. Frost was forming, stiffening the grass beneath his paws. Dawn must be coming.
He padded beside Leafpool into the forest. “Do you ever know what other cats dream about?” he asked, trying to sound as if he weren’t really bothered.
“I told you,” she answered, “we don’t discuss it.”
“But all medicine cats have dreams, don’t they?” he pressed. Did she know about Mothwing?
“Each medicine cat’s relationship with StarClan is different.” Leafpool spoke carefully, like a cat picking its way through a briar patch.
“But sharing tongues with StarClan is the most important part of being a medicine cat, isn’t it? Any cat could learn to heal his Clanmates, but a true medicine cat has to be able to
pass on messages from StarClan.”
“There is more to being a good medicine cat than interpreting signs,” Leafpool told him firmly. “Come on.” She broke into a run. “The dawn patrol will be heading off soon.”
She ran the rest of the way through the forest, checking to make sure Jaypaw was keeping up, but moving fast enough to keep him too busy to talk.
She knows more than she’s telling me, he thought as he followed her scent through the undergrowth.
They arrived at the camp just as the dawn patrol was preparing to leave. Brambleclaw was pacing restlessly. Ashfur kneaded the ground, and Brackenfur sat washing his paws, his eagerness to be off showing in every urgent lick. Brambleclaw halted as Leafpool and Jaypaw padded through the thorn barrier; Jaypaw sensed his father’s relief at their safe return.
“All well?” he called to Leafpool.
“Everything’s fine,” she replied as she padded away to her den.
Now was Jaypaw’s chance to share what he’d learned. He scrambled up the tumble of rocks to Highledge. “Firestar!” he called, rushing into the leader’s den.
Firestar twitched in surprise. “Jaypaw?” he meowed.
Sandstorm woke up on the other side of the cave. “What is it?”
“I had a dream about StarClan,” Jaypaw began. “WindClan is going be attacked by dogs.” He sensed Firestar’s tail bristling and went on. “This would be a great chance to take some of WindClan’s territory! They’ll be distracted at the
other end of the ridge, and there won’t be any patrols around to stop us. We can take the strip of trees, the stream. . . . We could become stronger than the other Clans. ShadowClan would never dare invade us again.”
“Did StarClan tell you this?”
Why did Firestar sound so wary?
Jaypaw nodded eagerly. “About the dog attack, yes.”
Sandstorm fixed Jaypaw with her steady green gaze. “Are you sure that this is what StarClan meant? That we should use the dog attack against our neighboring Clans?”
“Why else would they let me hear Tallstar’s warning?”
Then Firestar spoke. “We will not take advantage of WindClan’s troubles,” he meowed.
“But surely StarClan let me share this so we could take advantage of it!” Jaypaw argued.
“Are you sure they didn’t just want to warn us that dogs were loose nearby?”
Jaypaw’s tail twitched with indignation. “You weren’t there!” he snapped. “How do you know what StarClan meant?”
He marched out of the den and bounded down the rocks back to the medicine den. Why don’t they believe me? he thought furiously. I’m the one who shared with StarClan! What’s the point of being a medicine cat if they don’t listen to me?
Chapter 21
“Dog attack! Dog attack!”
Whitewing’s yowl jerked Lionpaw from his nest. Instantly awake, he scrambled to the entrance of the den. Berrypaw and Mousepaw had already shot outside. Hollypaw pressed behind him—her tail was bushed out, her ears flattened—