by Erin Hunter
“Breezepelt!” Poppyfrost sounded shocked. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s not very friendly.” The WindClan cat’s voice was soft. “The Moonpool isn’t ThunderClan territory, you know.”
“Leave us alone,” Jayfeather snapped, trying to conceal the fear that was trickling like icemelt down his spine. “We don’t need you here.”
“Oh, I think you do.” The soft voice was drawing closer. “I’m willing to help Poppyfrost get to StarClan, even if you’re not.”
Jayfeather gulped, picking up a wave of fear and bewilderment from Poppyfrost, as if the young she-cat couldn’t understand why the WindClan warrior was threatening her. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he meowed. “You won’t kill her, not when I’m here.”
“Oh, really?” Breezepelt snarled; he was only about a tail-length away now. “And you, a blind medicine cat, think you can stop me, do you? When her body is found drowned in your precious pool, it’ll be your word against mine. I was never here tonight. My Clanmates can lie as well as yours, Jayfeather.”
Poppyfrost let out a gasp. Jayfeather stepped in front of her, guarding her from Breezepelt. The waves of hatred coming from his half brother were almost enough to knock him off his paws—and he realized that Breezepelt would do anything to punish him for being born.
“Your quarrel is with me, Breezepelt,” he growled. “Let Poppyfrost go.”
Breezepelt gave a snort of contempt. “Sending you to StarClan isn’t enough of a punishment. You need to know what it’s like to have every cat in your Clan stare at you, whisper about you. You need to know that you’re surrounded by lies and hatred and things that should never have happened.”
“You think we don’t know that?” Jayfeather challenged him. “The worst of the lies were told about us. We didn’t even know who our real parents were.”
For a heartbeat he felt the force of Breezepelt’s hatred falter. But the moment did not last.
“Don’t try to talk your way out of this,” Breezepelt hissed. “You’re nothing but a coward.”
StarClan help me! Jayfeather thought, knowing there was only one way forward. Unsheathing his claws, he sprang at Breezepelt. He felt the WindClan cat’s surprise as he was bowled over; Jayfeather landed on top of him and battered at his neck and ears, ripping his claws down his pelt.
Breezepelt let out a yowl of pain and fury. But Jayfeather knew that he couldn’t hope to win a fight against a seasoned warrior. The WindClan cat threw him off and flipped him over onto his back. Holding him down with one paw, Breezepelt landed several hard blows on Jayfeather’s belly. Wriggling in a vain attempt to escape, Jayfeather realized dully his adversary was keeping his claws sheathed.
He’s playing with me. He’ll finish me off when he’s ready.
Poppyfrost’s terrified wail came close to Jayfeather’s ear. “Stop it! You can’t kill a medicine cat!”
“Watch me,” Breezepelt growled.
Poppyfrost aimed a blow at his shoulder, but she was heavy with her kits and clumsy; Jayfeather could tell the blow had no force behind it.
“Get out of here!” he gasped as another blow to his belly winded him. “Think of your kits!”
Poppyfrost backed away, whimpering, but she didn’t try to leave.
In the next heartbeat Breezepelt sprang away from Jayfeather, who scrambled, half-dazed, to his paws. Standing still, he tried to locate the WindClan cat, but between pain and fear he was losing control of his senses.
Then Breezepelt leaped back in front of him, lashing out with his paws, claws still sheathed as he just brushed Jayfeather’s ears and muzzle. “Go on, see if you can hit me!” he taunted.
Jayfeather sprang forward, but before he reached the WindClan cat a heavy weight landed on him from behind and claws raked across his shoulders.
Another cat? Oh, great StarClan, no!
Remembering his battle training, Jayfeather let himself go limp, flopping down on the edge of the pool with the strange tom crushing him down. He lashed out with all four paws, clawing frantically at the other cat’s belly.
Who is it? How many cats want to kill me?
The newcomer’s scent was all around him, but Jayfeather didn’t recognize it. The tom didn’t belong to WindClan, or to any of the other Clans. But he’s not a rogue or a loner. I ought to recognize that scent, but I don’t.
The unknown tom’s weight suddenly vanished; Jayfeather struggled to his paws, only to stagger as a massive paw swiped him toward the pool. Breezepelt blocked him and shoved him back; for a few heartbeats the two cats batted Jayfeather between them like a pair of kits playing with a ball of moss.
Poppyfrost was still hovering close by. “Breezepelt, don’t!” she pleaded. “StarClan will be angry if you kill a medicine cat.”
“Like I care!” Breezepelt snarled.
Yowling in fury, Jayfeather tried to lash out, but his blows were too wild and uncontrolled to do any damage. He felt blood start to trickle from one shoulder as Breezepelt scratched him.
They’re getting tired of this. They’ll finish me off soon.
He was close to keeling over with exhaustion when he felt another cat leap down beside him. His last hope died at the thought of yet another enemy attacking him. Then he heard a startled screech from Breezepelt, and he realized that the latest arrival had sprung at the WindClan cat, driving him back.
“Hi, Jayfeather,” the new cat hissed through clenched teeth. “Having trouble?”
“Honeyfern!” Jayfeather gasped.
The StarClan warrior’s scent wreathed around him as she jumped back to his side. The massive tom bore down on them again; this time Jayfeather slashed with rapid blows at his ears, while Honeyfern dealt the WindClan warrior a hard blow to the belly.
Jayfeather heard a furious growl coming from the unknown cat as he backed off.
“Get away!” Honeyfern snarled. “You’re not wanted here! And as for you, Breezepelt—” She swung around to face the WindClan cat again. “You get out of here, too. Or do you want a couple of shredded ears?”
“You might have won this time,” Breezepelt spat. “But don’t think this is over, Jayfeather, because it’s not.”
Jayfeather heard his paws retreating up the spiral path; his scent faded. Breathing hard, Jayfeather turned to Honeyfern and realized that he could see her. She was sitting at the edge of the pool, with starlight shimmering in her pale tabby fur. Rows and rows of starry cats had appeared behind her, clustering around the Moonpool and up the sides of the hollow. Jayfeather didn’t dare look at them too closely, in case he saw Hollyleaf among them. Or didn’t—which might mean she was somewhere much, much worse.
Instead, he padded up to Honeyfern. “Thankyou,” he panted. “I thought I was going to join you in StarClan for sure.”
Honeyfern twitched her tail. “It isn’t your time yet, Jayfeather,” she replied. “You still have much to do.” Stretching forward, she gave his ear a friendly lick. “Thank you for saving my sister.”
“Can she see you?” Jayfeather asked, with a glance at Poppyfrost, who was crouched a little way up the spiral path.
Honeyfern shook her head sadly. “Please tell her that I miss her just as much as she misses me. And I will love her kits as if they were my own.” Her eyes glowed with love and sympathy as she went on. “Berrynose does love her. He’s just scared of losing her as he lost me. I am watching over both of them.”
Dipping her head once more, she melted back into the crowd of starry warriors. Another cat came forward, her tousled fur like smoke in the starlight.
“Yellowfang,” he sighed.
“I know who was helping Breezepelt,” the former medicine cat told him, without wasting time on any greetings.
“You do? Who was it?”
Yellowfang blinked her amber eyes. “You don’t need to know that yet. But his presence is a sign of great trouble to come.”
Jayfeather’s belly twisted. “What do you mean?”
“Honeyfern fought beside yo
u today,” Yellowfang meowed. “And so will every warrior of StarClan when their turn comes. But the empty hearts of our enemies have filled up with hatred and hunger for revenge, and that gives them strength that cannot be measured.”
Jayfeather stared at her in horror.
“The forces of the Dark Forest are rising.” Yellowfang’s voice vibrated with foreboding. “I am afraid that it will take a power greater than StarClan to defeat them.”
CHAPTER 21
Lionblaze and Toadfoot lowered Rippletail’s body into the hole they had scraped out under an oak tree. Beyond the undergrowth, Dovepaw could just make out the pool behind the dam, glittering in the morning sunlight. She hoped that Rippletail’s spirit was down there now, swimming and fishing just as he had wanted to.
Rage burned like a slow fire in her belly. Rippletail shouldn’t have died on this journey! She wanted revenge on the beavers now, wanted it like a starving cat longed for a bite of fresh-kill. We have to destroy the dam! The water belongs to the Clans!
As she stepped up to the edge of the grave and began to push soil and leaf mulch down onto Rippletail’s body, she paused to listen to the beavers. They were moving around quietly inside the lodge, and she imagined them smug and gleeful because they’d chased off the cats in such an easy victory.
Lionblaze’s voice distracted her from her thoughts. “We can’t fight the beavers again.”
“I told you so,” Woody muttered from where he sat on one of the oak tree’s gnarled roots.
Lionblaze flicked an ear to show the loner he had heard, but he didn’t reply. “We need to find a different way to free the water,” he went on.
Petalfur looked up from covering her Clanmate’s body. Her eyes were still stunned with grief, but her voice was hard and determined. “We could try luring the beavers away.”
“And then what?” Toadfoot asked.
“Then we destroy the dam,” Petalfur replied.
“But it’s huge!” Tigerheart objected. “It would take days. We can’t keep the beavers away for that long.”
“We don’t have to destroy it all.” Petalfur sounded confident. “If we can move enough of the top branches that the water spills over, the force of the stream will wash the rest of the logs away.”
Dovepaw nodded. “I see,” she mewed. She supposed that a RiverClan cat would know what she was talking about when it came to water. She cast her senses as far as the dam, feeling for the way the trunks and branches were woven together, and she realized that Petalfur’s idea might work.
“We must do it quickly,” Whitetail put in, with a glance up at the sky. “The weather is going to break soon, and besides”—her gaze flickered to Petalfur—“we need to get back to our Clans to tell them what’s happened.”
“That’s true,” Lionblaze agreed.
“I know what we can do!” Tigerheart was looking around the clearing. “Let’s practice moving these fallen branches. If we figure how to do that without losing our balance, we’ll be able to dismantle the dam much quicker.”
Toadfoot gave his Clanmate a nod of approval. “Good idea.”
Dovepaw was impressed, too. Tigerheart could be annoying sometimes, but she had to admit he wasn’t stupid.
When they had finished filling in Rippletail’s grave, the Clan cats scattered through the clearing and began trying to lift the branches. To Dovepaw’s surprise, Woody went to help Petalfur. “I shouldn’t have let you attack the beavers,” he muttered as he stood beside her and helped her roll a moss-covered log. “I should have known they were too strong for you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Woody,” Whitetail called to him. Petalfur said nothing, just concentrated on rocking the heavy branch onto its side.
Dovepaw followed Lionblaze across the clearing to a lightning-split tree trunk lying on the ground. Shock slashed through her when she saw that he was limping. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Lionblaze nodded. “I don’t get hurt in battles, remember?” he hissed. “But I can’t let the others know that.”
Dovepaw sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to keep everything a secret.”
“It’s for their own good.” Lionblaze turned to face her, pinning her with his compelling amber eyes. “They have to let us help them, and they might not do that if they think we’re different.”
Dovepaw glanced over her shoulder at the other cats, who were spread out over the clearing, struggling with logs. Would they really be afraid of me if they knew what I can do? Probably, she decided sadly. After all, if I hadn’t sensed the beavers, we would never have come, and Rippletail would still be alive.
She and Lionblaze began to roll the log; it was heavy, and the grass growing up around it made it hard to shift.
“Let’s try flipping it over,” Lionblaze suggested. “You go to that end, and I’ll lift it up from here.”
“Okay.” Dovepaw gave the log a doubtful glance. It’s so big! And some of the logs on the dam are even bigger!
She watched as Lionblaze thrust his paws under one end of the log and started to heave it upward. “I’m going to push it up from this end,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You keep it steady, then push from your end and it should go over.”
Dovepaw tried to get a grip on the log, but as soon as it started to move, her paws slipped; the log banged her chin as it dropped to the ground again. “Sorry,” she puffed. “Let’s try again.”
But the second attempt was no better. This time the log rolled over toward Dovepaw, and she barely saved her paws from being crushed as she sprang backward.
Lionblaze lashed his tail in frustration. “I can’t move it on my own,” he snarled, though Dovepaw knew that he was more angry with himself than he was with her. “It’s too heavy.”
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” Dovepaw jumped, startled to see that Toadfoot had padded over to them. “We’ll need at least three cats to lure the beavers away,” he went on, flopping down beside the log with a tired sigh. “That leaves just five to dismantle the dam, even if Woody helps. We’ll never do it.”
Dovepaw glanced across the clearing to see that all the others had given up trying to shift the logs and branches. They looked exhausted, especially Petalfur, whose eyes were still dark with grief for her Clanmate.
This is hopeless! What are we going to do?
Lionblaze rose to his paws. “We can’t give up now,” he growled. “We need help.”
“But that’s mouse-brained,” Whitetail protested. “We can’t go all the way back to the lake to fetch more cats. It’s too far. We need water now!”
“There are cats who can help us much closer than that,” Lionblaze reminded them with a flick of his tail.
Toadfoot’s eyes stretched wide with astonishment. “You mean the kittypets?”
Lionblaze nodded. “It’s worth a try. We only need to go downstream as far as that Twoleg nest with the rabbits.”
“Yeah, but…they’re kittypets,” Tigerheart pointed out.
Whitetail murmured in agreement. “If you go looking for them and they won’t come, then we’ve wasted time.”
“That’s the risk we take,” Lionblaze responded.
Dovepaw’s belly churned. If the rest of the patrol won’t agree, what can Lionblaze do?
After a few heartbeats, Sedgewhisker broke the silence. “I think we have to try,” she mewed. “We owe it to Rippletail.”
Petalfur nodded. “I don’t want to think that he died for nothing.”
The cats looked at one another, and Dovepaw knew that all of them were grieving for Rippletail, regardless of their Clan.
“Then go for it,” Toadfoot meowed. “I can’t think of anything better.”
“Right.” Lionblaze pricked his ears. “Dovepaw, you can come with me. The rest of you, keep practicing. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
Dovepaw followed her mentor as he raced down the slope to the pool and leaped down into the streambed below the dam. As she followed him along the pebbly channel,
she realized that her pads had grown tough and hard from their long journey. She didn’t even feel any pain when she trod on a sharp-edged stone.
The day was approaching sunhigh by the time they reached the copse where they had stopped to hunt. Lionblaze slowed his pace. “Snowdrop followed us here,” he mewed. “Maybe she comes here often. Dovepaw, can you sense her?”
Dovepaw was already feeling confused by the sounds of the Twolegplace: monsters, Twolegs yowling, and the strange, harsh clatter of their lives. She longed to block it out as she had done before, concentrating just on the ground in front of her paws and the leaves rustling closest to her, but this time she knew she couldn’t. She had to listen to everything, take in all the information that was filtering through her ears and her nose and her paws, until they found the cats. She cast out her senses, searching in particular for Snowdrop, but she couldn’t pick up any trace of the white kittypet.
“Never mind,” Lionblaze told her. “She’s probably by those rabbits, or inside the Twoleg nest.”
As they trotted downstream, Dovepaw soon picked up the scent of rabbit, and the two cats climbed out of the stream at the end of the Twoleg territory. The rabbits were still nibbling the grass behind their shiny fence, but there was no sign of the kittypets. Dovepaw couldn’t pick up anything except a fading scrap of Jigsaw’s scent.
“Where have they gone?” she wailed. “I thought they lived here.”
Lionblaze’s eyes reflected her own anxiety. “I thought this part would be easy,” he muttered. He hesitated, then added, “They probably see the whole of this Twolegplace as their territory. Do you think you can find where they are?”
Dovepaw’s belly lurched. Three kittypets? In a place as big and noisy as this? But she had found the beavers—and now she realized that she could do this, too. She had to use her senses again to make their journey worth Rippletail’s loss. “I’ll try.”
Crouching down, she closed her eyes and let her senses range out through the Twolegplace. This territory was so unlike anything she’d seen before that at first she had only a very fuzzy idea of what lay between the Twoleg nests. Gradually she began to build up a picture of rows and rows of nests, with Thunderpaths between them, the roar of monsters echoing off the hard red walls. Twolegs were running and shouting and carrying things around….