The Fourth Apprentice

by Erin Hunter

  When he returned to the den, the waning moon was reflected in a pair of eyes staring up at him.

  “Dovepaw!” he murmured, not wanting to wake the other cats. “You don’t have to stay awake, you know.”

  “Don’t I?” Dovepaw’s voice was low but challenging. “If the dogs come back, I’m the one who’ll hear them first.”

  “You’re not responsible for our safety on your own,” Lionblaze told her with a stab of sympathy. “We can help. Now go to sleep.”

  For a heartbeat he thought that Dovepaw might argue and he would have to remind her that he was her mentor. Then she let out a faint sigh and curled up, closing her eyes and wrapping her tail over her nose. Within moments, her steady breathing told Lionblaze that she was asleep.

  Lionblaze sat beside her, separated from her only by the thin wall of bracken, and watched her as well as his surroundings. I know what it’s like to have a power no other cat understands, he thought. It’s the loneliest feeling in the world.

  CHAPTER 14

  As soon as the thorn barrier stopped quivering after Brambleclaw, Lionblaze, and Dovepaw pushed their way out of the hollow, Jayfeather turned and headed back to his den. Every hair on his pelt was tingling with doubt. Eight cats are setting out on a quest based on what Dovepaw thinks she can see, hear, sense, or whatever, up a dried-out stream. It’s hardly a prophecy from StarClan.

  What really bothered Jayfeather was that their warrior ancestors had said nothing to him about the quest, or about the brown animals that were blocking the stream. At the last meeting at the Moonpool, none of the other medicine cats had mentioned it, either. Is StarClan waiting to see if the prophecy of the Three will save us? It’s greater than them, after all. Halting, Jayfeather lifted his nose to the sky he couldn’t see. Are any of our warrior ancestors watching us now? he wondered.

  The scamper of paws sounded from behind him, startling him out of his thoughts.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” Ivypaw’s voice was raised in protest.

  What now? Jayfeather asked himself, sighing.

  “Well, stop being so grumpy,” Briarpaw retorted. “No cat put ants in your pelt.”

  “You’d be grumpy if your littermates went off to save the Clans,” Ivypaw snarled, “and left you doing stupid dumb training!”

  Jayfeather heard the sound of a pebble being kicked, followed by an indignant yowl from Mousefur. “Watch it! Can’t a cat go to make dirt anymore without being pelted with rocks?”

  “Sor-ree…” Ivypaw muttered.

  Jayfeather heard the elder padding away, annoyance buzzing out of her like bees from a hollow tree. He couldn’t help feeling some sympathy with Ivypaw. I’ve been left behind, too.

  “Ivypaw, control that bad temper right now!” Cinderheart came bounding up. “You should show respect to our elders.”

  “Sorry,” Ivypaw repeated, sounding more miserable than angry now.

  “I should think so. Later on we’ll find a really good piece of fresh-kill for Mousefur, and you can take it to her. But not yet,” Cinderheart continued, “because all of you are going to do battle training this morning.”

  “Oh, big deal!” Ivypaw wasn’t impressed.

  “No, it’s great.” Briarpaw sounded excited. “I’ll help you, Ivypaw. I’ll be doing my final assessment soon.”

  “Hey, slow down.” Thornclaw padded up behind his apprentice. “Your assessment isn’t for a couple of moons yet. Ivypaw’s mentor will do her training. You need to concentrate on that leap and twist I showed you last time. You haven’t got it quite right yet.”

  “Okay.” Briarpaw seemed untroubled by her mentor’s rebuke.

  Hazeltail and Mousewhisker came up to join Blossompaw and Bumblepaw, and the whole crowd of mentors and apprentices headed out of camp, with plenty of pushing and excited squealing from the young cats.

  Jayfeather sighed. Sometimes I feel as old as Rock.

  The hollow felt very empty once the cats had gone. Jayfeather stood still for a moment longer, listening to the faint creak of branches above his head, then gave his pelt a shake. Striding forward, he crossed the clearing and followed Mousefur into the elders’ den. Longtail was curled up asleep, his breath whistling through his nose, while Mousefur was settling into her nest with a crackle of dried bracken.

  Purdy sat beside her. “I was just rememberin’ the time when a couple o’ rats tried to move into my Upwalker’s den,” he began. “I reckon you’d like to hear about that, so—”

  “Hang on a moment, Purdy,” Jayfeather interrupted. “I need to have a word with Mousefur.”

  “What now?” the old she-cat demanded. She still sounded annoyed; either she hadn’t got over being hit by the pebble, or maybe it was the thought of listening to one of Purdy’s interminable stories.

  “I just need to check where the stone hit you,” Jayfeather explained.

  Mousefur let out a sigh. “I’ll be fine, Jayfeather. There’s no need to fuss.”

  “I’m only doing my job, Mousefur.”

  Another long sigh. “All right.” Jayfeather heard the rustle of bracken as Mousefur stretched out in her nest. “It was just there, at the top of my leg.”

  Jayfeather padded forward and sniffed carefully. To his relief, he couldn’t find any trace of a wound; Mousefur’s skin hadn’t even been broken. “I think you’re fine,” he mewed.

  “I told you that,” Mousefur snapped. “Young cats, thinking they know everything.”

  “Even so, if you feel any pain or start limping, let me know right away. Okay?”

  “I’ll see she does,” Purdy put in. “Don’t you worry none.”

  “Thanks, Purdy.” Jayfeather headed out of the den, but before he could leave, the old loner spoke again.

  “Don’t dash off like that, young ’un. You’ll enjoy hearin’ this story as well. There were these rats, see…”

  Jayfeather stood fidgeting impatiently near the entrance to the den. As soon as he heard movement in the clearing, he broke into Purdy’s rambling tale. “Sorry. Gotta go. Could be an emergency.” Without waiting for an answer, he squeezed under the branches of the elder bush and padded into the hollow.

  Brambleclaw had returned from seeing off the questing cats; as Jayfeather drew nearer, he heard Firestar leaping down the tumbled rocks to join his deputy in the center of the camp.

  “Well?” the Clan leader asked eagerly. “How did it go?”

  “Fine,” Brambleclaw replied. “All four Clans sent their cats, and they all set off upstream.”

  “Which cats have been chosen?”

  “Toadfoot and Tigerheart from ShadowClan,” Brambleclaw began. “Sedgewhisker and Whitetail from WindClan, and Rippletail and Petalfur from RiverClan.”

  Jayfeather’s ears flicked up in surprise. That doesn’t sound as if Leopardstar sent her strongest warriors. Doesn’t she realize what dangers they’ll be facing?

  If Firestar thought the same, he gave no sign of it. “I hope they can all get on together,” he commented.

  “They will,” Brambleclaw promised. “They’ll learn to rely on one another, and they’ll come back stronger cats for the experience.”

  “We can only pray to StarClan that they come back at all,” Firestar meowed. “And that they find out what happened to the water.” He sighed, then went on in a brisker tone, “Meanwhile, we’d better start with the patrols before the day gets too hot. I’ll lead a hunting patrol; can you organize the rest?”

  “Sure, Firestar.”

  Jayfeather heard both cats pad away and begin calling to others inside the warriors’ den. He listened briefly as his Clanmates pushed their way out through the branches, yawning and stretching, and then he turned away toward his den. Before he reached it, Firestar led his hunting patrol past him. Dustpelt brought up the rear; as he brushed past, Jayfeather felt a stab of pain at the base of the tabby warrior’s spine. Pricking his ears toward the patrol, he detected a slight unevenness in Dustpelt’s paw steps.

  “Hey, Dustpelt!�
�� he called. “Hang on a moment!”

  “What?” Dustpelt sounded even more crabby than usual as he retraced his steps. “I’m supposed to be hunting with Firestar, so make it quick.”

  “Have you hurt your back?” Jayfeather asked.

  The brown tabby tom hesitated. “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m a medicine cat,” Jayfeather retorted drily. “If you’re hurt, I’ve got some herbs that will help you.”

  “I don’t need herbs,” Dustpelt retorted; Jayfeather pictured his neck fur bristling up. “Save them for cats who are really ill.”

  “I’ve got plenty of what you need,” Jayfeather assured him. He wasn’t going to let Dustpelt deprive himself of medicine out of misplaced selflessness. His back would only get worse, and then he wouldn’t be able to hunt at all. “Come see me when you get back.”

  “Okay, I will.” Jayfeather thought he could sense relief behind Dustpelt’s brusque tone. Quietly he added, “Thanks, Jayfeather.”

  “Make sure you don’t forget!” Jayfeather called as Dustpelt bounded away to catch up to Firestar and the rest of the patrol. He reminded himself to have a word with Ferncloud if her mate didn’t turn up for the herbs. Heading for his den once again, Jayfeather became aware of a cat’s warm gaze resting on him. Leafpool! He could sense his mother’s pride in him, for the way he had detected Dustpelt’s injury and avoided wounding the warrior’s dignity or sense of duty when offering him the herbs.

  I don’t want your pride, Jayfeather thought.

  Suddenly the hollow felt as if it were closing in on him. He couldn’t stay here a moment longer with the stone cliffs pressing around him, trapping him beneath watchful eyes. He spun around and raced across the clearing, pushing through the thorn tunnel in the wake of the patrols. Once in the forest, he headed for the lake, missing the scents of cool, damp air that always drifted to meet him when he took this path. Now the forest felt strange and restless, crackling in the hot, dry breeze.

  When he emerged on the bank of the lake, a tail-length from where the water used to lap against the shore, an unfamiliar emptiness stretched in front of him. He was used to sensing the cold, wet weight of the lake on his fur when he took a breath, but now there was nothing except dust. Pausing at the edge of the trees, Jayfeather located patrols from ThunderClan and WindClan heading for the lake. They must have come for the water. Farther out, he could hear a ShadowClan patrol arguing with the RiverClan warriors who were guarding the shrinking lake.

  “You don’t own the water,” Russetfur snapped. “Every cat has the right to drink.”

  “And we have the right to the fish,” Graymist retorted. “Touch so much as a single scale, and I’ll claw your ears off.” In spite of her threats, the RiverClan she-cat’s voice was dull and fretful, as if she had little strength left.

  It can’t be much fun, stuck out here with no shade or rest, Jayfeather thought. He padded out onto the dried-up bed of the lake, feeling the pebbles rolling underneath his paws. Somewhere nearby, he knew, must be the opening from the tunnels where the underground river had washed them into the lake. But no cat had mentioned finding a hole in the lakebed; perhaps it had been filled up by one of the many mudslides, like the one Rainstorm had fallen into.

  Jayfeather shivered in spite of the heat, remembering the mudslide that had trapped his sister, Hollyleaf, when the roof of the tunnel had fallen in. For a heartbeat he was standing there again in the rain-battered forest, desperately calling out to her. Then he shook himself, pulling himself away from the terrible memory.

  “Hey, Poppyfrost!” Icecloud’s cheerful voice brought him back to the scorched lake. The ThunderClan water patrol had arrived, Berrynose and Brightheart padding along with her.

  There were more paw steps behind him, and Jayfeather realized that Poppyfrost had ventured out onto the lake bottom as well; she trotted up to the patrol, her steps sounding slow and heavy with the weight of her kits.

  “Hi,” she panted. “Isn’t it hot? The lake is—”

  “Shouldn’t you be in the nursery?” Berrynose interrupted before his mate had the chance to mew more than a few words.

  Jayfeather sensed that Poppyfrost was taken aback. “I just wanted to stretch my legs,” she explained, “and see if the lake has shrunk any more.”

  “You’re supposed to be resting,” Berrynose pointed out with an edge to his voice. “What about our kits?”

  “But I want a drink,” Poppyfrost protested.

  “Icecloud will bring you some water,” Berrynose meowed, before padding on toward the distant lake.

  Brightheart’s and Icecloud’s embarrassment was so strong that Jayfeather could almost taste it. “Sure, Poppyfrost,” Icecloud mumbled. “I’ll bring you some moss.”

  “Thanks, but I can get my own.” Poppyfrost sounded tense and brittle. “I’ll see you later.”

  She trudged away from the patrol, following Berrynose, but not trying to catch up to him. When she passed Jayfeather, she halted. “It’s okay for me to leave the nursery, isn’t it?”

  “Of course,” Jayfeather replied. “Your kits aren’t due for another moon.”

  “I thought so,” Poppyfrost mewed. “Daisy said I wouldn’t do them any harm if I took a walk.” She let out a weary sigh. “Berrynose seems to want me to stay in the nursery forever! He says there isn’t enough room for me in the warriors’ den now.”

  Jayfeather scuffed the hot ground with his paw. “I’m sure he just wants to take care of you.”

  Poppyfrost didn’t reply; she just let out a disbelieving snort and headed for the water.

  Putting the tension out of his mind, Jayfeather returned to the shore and located his stick, carefully wedged under some elder roots a tail-length or so from the bank. Settling down in the shade of the elder bush, he ran his paw along the scratch marks. Faint whispers wreathed around his ears, and he recognized some of the voices from the time he spent with the ancient clan. He strained to hear what they were saying, but they were too quiet. A pang of sadness pierced him, like a thorn, that he had left them behind. They had been his friends, once—and he had helped to send them away from the lake forever. The spirits of the ancient cats seemed to be all around him now, brushing their tails along his pelt, mingling their scents with that of the dry lake.

  What do you want? Jayfeather asked, sensing their anxiety.

  But there was no reply.

  Yowls from the edge of the water distracted him. Shoving the stick back under the roots, he crawled out from under the elder bush and rose to his paws.

  “This is WindClan’s part of the lake!” Jayfeather stiffened as he recognized Breezepelt’s voice. “Get back to your own side.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Icecloud protested. “Our territories end three tail-lengths from the shore.”

  “The shore is where the water starts,” Breezepelt growled. “And that makes this part of the lake WindClan territory. So get your tails out of here!”

  “Do you want to make us?” That was Berrynose’s voice; Jayfeather could imagine the cream-colored warrior squaring up for a fight, his fur bristling and his teeth bared in a snarl.

  A fight is the last thing we need! Jayfeather bounded forward, his belly fur brushing the dust and loose pebbles of the dry lakebed. “Stop!” he yowled, thrusting himself between the two warriors. “What value does the lakebed have to any Clan?”

  He heard an enraged snarl and scented Breezepelt nose to nose with him. “You would say that, half-Clan cat!”

  Jayfeather was jolted by the wave of hatred coming from the WindClan warrior. He took a step back, his nostrils flaring. “What has that got to do with—” he began.

  Breezepelt pushed his face even closer to Jayfeather’s. “Your mother betrayed my father as well as her Clan,” he hissed. “You have no right to be a medicine cat. No right even to live among the Clans. I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done! Never!”

  Jayfeather was too stunned to reply. He was aware of Berrynose bristling nex
t to him. “I’ll claw him for you if you want, Jayfeather!” the young warrior growled.

  Jayfeather shook his head. What would that change? He heard paw steps approaching and scented Ashfoot, the WindClan deputy.

  “What’s going on here?” she demanded.

  “Nothing,” Breezepelt replied. “Just a misunderstanding about getting to the water.”

  Ashfoot turned to Jayfeather. “You should advise your warriors to keep to your own side of the lake,” she warned. “To avoid future misunderstandings.”

  Jayfeather wasn’t about to quarrel, not with Breezepelt breathing venom at him. “Very well,” he mewed, dipping his head to the deputy. Anger rose inside him as he picked up the smug feelings of triumph radiating from Breezepelt. “Come on,” he added to the ThunderClan patrol. “We’re doing no good here.”

  He could feel the fury of the ThunderClan cats as they padded beside him toward their own territory.

  “I can’t believe that mangy WindClan cat!” Icecloud spat. “How dare he tell us where we can and can’t go?”

  “You should have let me get him!” Berrynose snarled.

  “There was no call for what he said to you.” Brightheart’s mew was quieter, but Jayfeather could sense her shock.

  He shrugged, not wanting to discuss the accusations Breezepelt had hurled at him, and to his relief Brightheart said nothing more. Leaving the patrol to head for the distant water, Jayfeather turned toward the shore, the hot wind ruffling his pelt. In spite of the heat, cold struck through him, bone-deep, and he felt the ancient cats wreathing around him once more.

  Beware, Jay’s Wing, one of them whispered. Stormclouds are gathering on a dark breeze.

  CHAPTER 15

  A dry, dusty breeze swept over Dovepaw, rattling the branches above her head. She blinked awake and stretched her jaws in a huge yawn. For a couple of heartbeats she couldn’t remember where she was. This isn’t the apprentices’ den! Where’s Ivypaw?