by Erin Hunter
“You don’t have any choice,” Jayfeather snapped.
“Do you think we asked for this?” Lionblaze heaved a deep sigh. “I wish every day that I could just be an ordinary warrior, doing my best to help my Clan.”
“But we’ve had to accept it,” Jayfeather mewed.
He heard a scuffling sound from Dovepaw, as if the apprentice was flexing her claws in and out of the soil. “I don’t have to accept it,” she muttered mutinously.
“You do. Because of what you did today,” Lionblaze meowed. Jayfeather could tell that he felt a strong sympathy for his apprentice. “You couldn’t have made it clearer if you’d gone and yowled it from the Highledge.”
Now Dovepaw was silent, and Jayfeather could sense her anger fading, replaced by uncertainty and fear. He let out a sigh, knowing what he had to tell her, even though he had hoped there would be no need. “You must have heard that we once had a sister,” he began. “Hollyleaf. We—we thought that she was part of the prophecy, one of the Three.”
“But she wasn’t.” To Jayfeather’s relief, Lionblaze took up the story. “She tried so hard to figure out her special power, and how she could use it to help her Clan.”
“So what made you realize that she wasn’t one of the Three?” Dovepaw asked.
Grief and shame swept over Jayfeather, as sharp as when he first discovered that he wasn’t the son of Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw. He could sense that his brother felt the same. What could they possibly tell this apprentice without tearing open the wounds that had threatened to destroy their Clan?
“How much do you know about Hollyleaf?” he asked Dovepaw.
“Not much.” The young cat’s voice was curious now. “I know she was your sister and she died in an accident in the tunnels. Ivypaw and I used to hear cats talking about her sometimes, but when they saw us listening they always changed the subject.”
I’m not surprised, Jayfeather thought.
“We just realized that the prophecy didn’t include her,” Lionblaze stated flatly, in a tone that warned Dovepaw not to ask any more questions.
“So you made a mistake!” Dovepaw retorted. “How do you know that you’re not making the same mistake again? Firestar has loads of kin in ThunderClan, not just Cloudtail and Whitewing!”
“Because—” Jayfeather began.
“I don’t want to listen!” Dovepaw’s voice was angry, and Jayfeather could picture her glaring at him with her neck fur bristling. He sensed deep fear within her, which she was trying to bury under her anger. “I don’t care about special powers, unless they can help me to be a loyal warrior to ThunderClan. I don’t want any part of any prophecy, especially one that’s so vague you can’t even be sure which cat it refers to!”
“Listen, you stupid furball!” Jayfeather spat. “Do you think we wanted things to be like this?” All his anger and frustration came spilling out, like a storm breaking over the forest, and he didn’t even try to stop it. “We didn’t choose to be part of the prophecy! We lost our sister because of it!”
His paws were shaking so much that he had to sit down. Who sent the prophecy? he wondered, yet again. And why should we listen to it, when it causes so much pain?
“I—I’m sorry,” Dovepaw stammered. “But if it’s so hard, why don’t you ask Firestar about it?”
“Firestar has never spoken to us about it,” Lionblaze replied. “He doesn’t even know that we know he received the prophecy in the first place.”
“Then how…?” Dovepaw’s voice was bewildered.
“I walked in his dreams,” Jayfeather explained reluctantly. He could tell how his intensity was scaring the young she-cat, and how hard she would find it to accept the darkness within his powers. But something was urging him on, an inner voice that seemed to warn him there was no time to wait for her to understand. “We don’t know what the prophecy requires us to do,” he went on, trying to keep his voice calm, “but we need to be ready. And that means having the courage to face up to our powers, whatever they are.”
Dovepaw hesitated; Jayfeather could feel uncertainty coming off her in waves. “Wouldn’t StarClan want me to learn to be a warrior first?” she meowed at last.
“I don’t know. I’m not even sure that the prophecy comes from StarClan.” Jayfeather hated to admit that, but it was true; no StarClan warrior had ever confirmed the prophecy for him.
“But you’re right, Dovepaw.” Lionblaze’s voice was warm with approval. “The best thing you can do is get on with your warrior training. Let’s go and get some more hunting practice, before the other cats send out a search party for us.”
“Yes!” Dovepaw immediately sounded more cheerful. Jayfeather knew she was trying to push the prophecy to the back of her mind.
“Carry on,” he mewed. “I’ll stay here and take care of my plants. There are a few dead leaves that could do with pulling off.” He heard Lionblaze’s paw steps retreating, with Dovepaw following him; at the edge of the garden she halted and turned back.
“Jayfeather,” she began hesitantly, “I had a dream. This StarClan cat took me down to the lake, and it was full of water again.”
“What was the cat like?” Lionblaze asked.
“Scary! She had messy gray fur and yellow eyes. And her teeth were all snaggly.”
“That was Yellowfang,” Jayfeather told her. “She used to be ThunderClan’s medicine cat when the Clan lived in the old forest.”
“Firestar talks about her sometimes,” Lionblaze reassured his apprentice. “He says she’s not as scary as she looks.”
“Did she say why she came to you?” Jayfeather prompted.
“No…” Dovepaw sounded uncertain again. “If she did, I can’t remember.”
“And is this the only dream you’ve had?”
“The only one from StarClan. Do you think it’s important?” Dovepaw mewed.
“Yes, but I don’t know why.” Jayfeather scraped his paw over the damp scented soil. “Let me know if you have any more, okay? Oh, and welcome to the Three.”
CHAPTER 8
Lionblaze pushed his way through the thorn tunnel and padded across the clearing toward the warriors’ den. As soon as the sun had set, Brambleclaw had called him to patrol along the ShadowClan border, to make the best use they could of the cooler evening. Now Lionblaze felt as if his paws were going to drop off. He was so tired he wasn’t even sure if he could make it as far as his den.
Moonlight washed over the clearing; Lionblaze shivered when he looked up at the sky and saw the moon swelling to the full. There’ll be a Gathering tomorrow night, he thought. It’s been a whole moon since Leopardstar laid claim to all the fish in the lake. And things are no better—they’re worse.
With a massive effort he pushed his weariness away and veered from the warriors’ den to head for the tumbled rocks that led up to the Highledge. I’ve got to talk to Firestar.
On the Highledge he paused for a moment, making sure he knew what he wanted to say, then called out softly, in case his leader was asleep. “Firestar?”
“Come in.”
Firestar’s voice was weary, and when Lionblaze stepped into the den, he was shocked to see how thin and troubled the Clan leader looked. He crouched among the moss and bracken of his nest, his green gaze fixed on his paws. He blinked slowly as he raised his head to face Lionblaze.
“I’m sorry, Firestar,” Lionblaze stammered, beginning to back out again. “You look tired, so—”
“No, I’m fine,” Firestar reassured him. “If you want to talk, this is a good time.”
Slightly encouraged, Lionblaze padded into the den, dipped his head to his leader, and sat beside the nest with his tail wrapped around his paws.
“How is Dovepaw’s training going?” Firestar asked.
“Er…fine.” Lionblaze wondered if Firestar had made the connection between Dovepaw and the prophecy. He must have heard about the story she had told earlier, about the brown animals blocking the river. Would Firestar believe her? And if he did, would h
e take this as a sign of great power? “She works hard. I think she’s going to be one of the best hunters in the Clan.”
Firestar nodded. “She has a good mentor,” he mewed.
Lionblaze squirmed. “I do my best.”
The Clan leader turned his brilliant green gaze on Lionblaze, moonlight reflecting in his eyes. “Just as Brambleclaw did,” he murmured, “when he raised you as his own son.”
Catching his breath, Lionblaze felt a hot core of rage beginning to grow in his belly, as if he had swallowed a burning acorn. Why is Firestar bringing that up again now? I don’t want to talk about it!
“I know you and Jayfeather are angry that you were lied to,” Firestar went on quietly. “I can understand that. But you shouldn’t forget that you couldn’t have had a better mother and father than Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw. Things could have been very different.”
“I’m not mad at Brambleclaw,” Lionblaze retorted. “He’s a noble cat. I was proud when I thought he was my father. And he suffered from the lies just like the rest of us.”
“Leafpool and Squirrelflight did what they thought was best for you and your littermates,” Firestar meowed. “Would the truth have been easier to live with?”
“We have to live with it now,” Lionblaze pointed out, making an effort not to lash his tail.
“I know.” Firestar sighed. “Secrets never stay hidden forever. It takes a good deal of courage to face the truth.” He paused with a brooding look, as if he was remembering something long past. “You don’t need to punish Leafpool any more than she has already been punished,” he went on. “She has lost everything she ever loved. And Squirrelflight has lost her mate. Do you think that’s easy for her?”
They both deserved it! It took all Lionblaze’s self-control not to hiss the words aloud. His anger threatened to overwhelm him; he didn’t want to think about what Leafpool might be feeling.
“I take it that’s not what you came to talk about?” Firestar asked, tilting his head to one side.
Lionblaze seized on the change of subject, glad to speak to his leader as a warrior of ThunderClan, not Firestar’s troubled kin. “Have you heard the story Dovepaw told, about the brown animals blocking the stream that marks the ShadowClan border?”
Firestar nodded.
“I think she might be right,” Lionblaze continued.
The ThunderClan leader blinked in surprise, opened his jaws to speak, then seemed to consider the possibility more carefully. “If she is, I don’t see how she knows,” he replied. His eyes narrowed, and Lionblaze suppressed a shiver at his piercing green gaze. How much does Firestar know about us?
“StarClan might have sent her a dream, I suppose,” Firestar mewed after a moment. “She didn’t mention that to you, did she?”
Lionblaze wished he could have said yes. It would be such a convenient explanation. But lying to his Clan leader would create more problems than it would solve. “No, she didn’t,” he replied.
“Hmm…” Firestar’s whiskers quivered; he was obviously thinking deeply. “What she says makes sense,” he continued eventually. “I don’t mean about the brown animals. But there could be something blocking the stream so that the water doesn’t reach us anymore.”
“That’s what I thought.” Lionblaze was relieved to have a good reason for believing Dovepaw that meant he didn’t have to reveal the truth about her senses.
“There’s nothing in our territory,” Firestar went on in a murmur, half to himself. “And there can’t be anything in ShadowClan’s territory either, or they would have unblocked it.”
“It must be much farther upstream,” Lionblaze mewed. “Let me take a patrol to investigate. There might be something we can do.”
“No, it’s too dangerous.” Firestar shook his head. “We don’t know what might have caused the blockage. Besides, we would need to travel through ShadowClan territory. Blackstar would claw our ears off, and I couldn’t blame him.”
“So every cat has to suffer without water?” Lionblaze challenged him. “Jayfeather is doing his best to keep the Clan going, Firestar, but there’s a limit to what any medicine cat can do. Much more of this, and cats are going to die of thirst.”
“I know.” Firestar let out a long sigh that told Lionblaze of his despair more clearly than words. “But journeying upstream…it’s too much to take on, when we don’t know for sure that the stream has been blocked.”
“Then what are we going to do? Sit around waiting for rain?” Lionblaze’s anger was flaring up again, until he felt as if it would shrivel every hair on his pelt. “StarClan hasn’t sent us any messages to tell us when the drought might end. It’s time we took our destiny into our own paws!” Frustrated, he scraped his claws along the rock floor of the den. Words hovered, unspoken: You know that I’m more powerful than StarClan! Why won’t you believe me when I tell you we can fix this? But Lionblaze managed not to say them out loud.
“Very well, then,” Firestar responded wearily. “If you’re convinced that Dovepaw is right, I’ll let you look into it. There doesn’t seem to be anything else we can do to help. But I still won’t allow a patrol of ThunderClan cats to travel upstream alone. You would never reach the blockage, even if it exists.”
“But—” Lionblaze began.
“I said alone,” Firestar interrupted. “If ShadowClan would join us, the mission would be a lot less dangerous. In fact, it would be best if we could form an expedition from all the Clans. Four Clans working together would be much stronger than one patrol alone.”
“Would they agree?” Lionblaze asked doubtfully.
“We’re all suffering from the lack of water.” Firestar sounded more energetic now, as if the plan was renewing his strength. “Why shouldn’t we all do something about it?”
Lionblaze shrugged. He found it hard to imagine Blackstar, Leopardstar, and Onestar agreeing to send warriors off into the unknown when life was so tough around the lake. But maybe they were desperate enough to consider it. And if it’s the only way to ease the drought, he decided, I’m sure I won’t be the only cat who’s up for it.
“I will propose it at tomorrow’s Gathering,” Firestar mewed decisively.
When Lionblaze climbed down the tumbled rocks into the clearing, he found Dovepaw and Jayfeather waiting anxiously for him.
“I heard you in there with Firestar!” Dovepaw whispered. “What did he say?”
“If you heard us, don’t you know what he said?” Lionblaze asked, disconcerted to realize that his apprentice might have been listening to everything that he and Firestar had discussed.
“I don’t eavesdrop!” Dovepaw twitched her whiskers indignantly. “That would be wrong.”
“So what did he say?” Jayfeather prompted.
“He wants to send a patrol from all four Clans upstream, to see if we can unblock the stream,” Lionblaze replied. “He’s going to mention it at the Gathering tomorrow night.”
“All the Clans?” Dovepaw’s eyes stretched wide with dismay. “But—but what if they don’t believe me?”
“Don’t worry.” Lionblaze rested his tail on his apprentice’s shoulder. “Firestar isn’t going to say it was your idea.”
“He’ll probably tell the other Clans that we should explore the area upstream, to find out where the water has gone.” To Lionblaze’s surprise, Jayfeather’s eyes were gleaming.
Lionblaze couldn’t share his brother’s enthusiasm. Forcing the Clans to cooperate with one another seemed likely to cause more trouble than he was prepared to deal with. “You sound very keen on this idea,” he commented.
“Of course.” Jayfeather waved his tail. “All the Clans are suffering. It makes sense that we should work together to solve the problem.”
CHAPTER 9
Lionblaze gazed up at the full moon hanging above the empty bowl of the lake. It outlined the WindClan cats in silver as they headed around the shore on their way to the Gathering. They looked thinner than ever, and they trudged along with their heads down and thei
r tails drooping as if they were too tired to go on putting one paw in front of another.
Lionblaze looked around at his Clanmates and realized they were just as exhausted. Only Dovepaw seemed to have any energy. Her fur was fluffed up with excitement, and every so often she would run on a few paces, then wait for Cinderheart and Lionblaze to catch up. Her ears were pricked and her whiskers quivering. Lionblaze wondered what she could sense, whether she was already listening to murmurs from the island.
There was no need to use the fallen tree to cross the lake to the island. There was no water left in this narrow channel; the lake bottom was exposed to the stars, tumbled with pebbles and bits of wood. Firestar led the way down, jumping gracefully through the scattered debris, his paws silent on the stones.
“I don’t know why we came all this way around,” Foxleap muttered. “We could have just walked straight across the lake from our own territory.
“I suppose so,” Cinderheart agreed. “But we’ve always done it this way. Somehow it doesn’t seem respectful to change.”
Foxleap shrugged with a tired sigh.
Moonlight showed the lake robbed of all its old magnificence, reduced to a bowl of dust and stones. It felt strange to Lionblaze to be padding over an arid waste of pebbles where deep water had once rippled. Above him, the fallen tree didn’t seem so high, either, as when he had to balance carefully on it with the dark lake lapping hungrily below.
The undergrowth on the island was brown and brittle all the way down to the shore. ThunderClan and WindClan mingled together as they padded quietly through it toward the clearing. Lionblaze spotted the WindClan deputy, Ashfoot, pacing beside Crowfeather; the deputy was Crowfeather’s mother, Lionblaze remembered, with a sudden shock at the realization that he had more kin in WindClan.
He dropped back, hoping that Ashfoot and Crowfeather hadn’t noticed him, and found himself walking just behind Squirrelflight and Thornclaw. Cinderheart was beside him, with Birchfall on his other side and Ivypaw and Dovepaw following. Together they pushed through the bushes that surrounded the clearing and emerged in the cold starlight, circled by pine trees. ShadowClan had already arrived. They greeted ThunderClan and WindClan with subdued nods. The shadows that flitted over the ground were as light and frail as fallen leaves; was it Lionblaze’s imagination, or were the cats really making less noise with their half-starved paws?