Heatherpaw leaped over the river and began to sniff at one of the openings.
Lionpaw jumped after her. Dank, stale air seeped from the tunnel and he shivered.
“Do you think one leads into ShadowClan territory?”
Heatherpaw wondered.
The fur along Lionpaw’s spine lifted. “I hope not.”
“We could explore.”
Lionpaw backed away. “There’s no hurry. We have enough fun here.” He glanced around the cave. Getting here still made his paws quiver. There was something spooky about the tunnels and he was always relieved to find Heatherpaw waiting for him in the moonlit cave.
Heatherpaw’s eyes sparkled. “There might be all sorts of terrible creatures down there with big teeth and sharp claws—”
Lionpaw nudged her. “Shut up!”
She darted away. “Come on!” she called. “You still have to prove you’re a warrior!” She crossed the river with a graceful leap.
Lionpaw dived after her. As he landed, his hind paws slipped backward into the dark water. The splash echoed around the cave. Lionpaw’s heart lurched as he felt the strong tug of the current and he scrambled forward, shaking droplets from his paws.
“Careful,” Heatherpaw warned. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Lionpaw gulped at the thought of being dragged away into the tunnels by the river. Seeking comfort in Silverpelt, he glanced up at the gap in the roof. The sky outside was lightening. “We have to go.”
Heatherpaw sighed.
“Tomorrow night?” Lionpaw mewed hopefully.
“Can’t.” Heatherpaw wove around him, brushing her light tabby pelt against his. “I have a training assessment the day after. I don’t want to be too tired.”
“Okay.” Lionpaw shrugged; he understood. She had to put her Clan first. But he would still miss her.
“Bye.”
They hurried away, each to their separate tunnel. Lionpaw was relieved that he knew the path well enough now to be able to run all the way. Jaypaw would be surprised to know how fast his brother could race through the blackness, using only his whiskers to guide him. He burst from the entrance, relieved to smell fresh air once more.
This is my part of the forest! He wriggled happily under the brambles and pulled himself out the other side. The older warriors acted like they had created ThunderClan territory because they had brought the Clans to the lake, but Lionpaw knew that they hadn’t explored every paw step of it yet. The fact that he knew about the cave proved that there were still places left to find. It would be the young cats who would do that, who would make this land their own.
Through the leaves he could see that the star-studded sky was growing pale. He began to race through the forest. He had to get home before the camp woke.
“Greetings, Lionpaw.” A deep mew sounded in his ear and fur brushed his flank.
Lionpaw bristled with alarm. He glanced sideways and saw the faint outline of a cat keeping pace with him. Am I dreaming?
“We have been watching you.” The outline shimmered beside him—a huge tabby tom with amber eyes which shone in the half-light. The tom’s massive shoulders seemed strangely familiar.
Something brushed his other flank. Lionpaw turned, his heart pounding. Another shadowy cat was running beside him—a second tabby tom with ice-blue eyes, but the same massive shoulders.
“W-who are you?” he stammered.
“We are kin,” answered the amber-eyed tom.
Lionpaw glanced anxiously from one to the other. “Are you from StarClan?”
“We were warriors once,” the blue-eyed tom growled.
Lionpaw’s tail pricked. “T-Tigerstar? Hawkfrost?” Why had they come to him?
Hawkfrost stiffened, jerking his huge head around to stare away into the forest. “Someone’s coming,” he warned.
Lionpaw ducked behind a hazel tree.
Paw steps beat the forest floor—real, solid paw steps. As Lionpaw crouched, hardly daring to breathe, Spiderleg raced past, stirring the air so that it tugged at Lionpaw’s pelt. The long-limbed black tom bounded away, disappearing into a swath of ferns.
Lionpaw crept out from behind the hazel. “Tigerstar?” He glanced around. “Hawkfrost?”
The ghostly warriors had gone.
“Wait!” Lionpaw called in a whisper. “Come back.” He had to know why they had chosen to appear to him.
The ferns rustled where Spiderleg had disturbed them.
Then the forest fell silent, except for the call of the birds, heralding the dawn.
Lionpaw crept, yawning, through the dirtplace tunnel.
The camp lay in silence. Relief flooded his paws. Then guilt.
Away from Heatherpaw’s side he was suddenly aware how sneaky he was being. No cat was up. No sign of the dawn patrol preparing to leave yet. He shouldn’t feel so pleased that he’d be able to creep to his nest unnoticed and get some much-needed sleep. He scooted around the edge of the clearing, clinging to the shadows, then slipped into the apprentice den. Stepping lightly, he began to tiptoe toward his nest.
“Lionpaw?” Hollypaw lifted her head. “Is that you?”
Panic seared his paws, then irritation. “Yes,” he hissed.
“Where are you going?” she yawned.
Lionpaw hesitated. He couldn’t use the dirtplace excuse again. She’d think he was ill. “Dawn patrol,” he answered quickly.
Hazelpaw sat up groggily and blinked. “I thought I was doing that with Honeypaw?”
“I’m coming too,” Lionpaw mewed, “just for the experience.” His pelt burned. So many lies!
Hollypaw tucked her nose back under her paw. “Rather you than me,” she murmured.
“We’d better get a move on.” Hazelpaw prodded Honeypaw. “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s time to go.”
Lionpaw glanced longingly at his nest, his paws as heavy as stones, but Hazelpaw was already brushing past him, leading the way out of the den. He padded after her, leaving Honeypaw stretching in her nest.
“You’re up early, Lionpaw.” Sandstorm, sitting by the entrance with Dustpelt, looked surprised to see him.
“I wanted to join the patrol,” Lionpaw mewed.
“Good for you.” Dustpelt looked up at the clear dawn sky.
“It’s going to be a great day for hunting. I think I’ll take Hazelpaw out again once we’ve checked the borders.”
Birds twittered noisily at the top of the ravine. Lionpaw stifled a yawn and stretched.
“Are you ready, Honeypaw?” Sandstorm asked. Her apprentice was stumbling from the den, blinking the sleep from her eyes.
Honeypaw nodded.
“Come on, then.” Sandstorm padded out of the camp.
Back out in the forest, Lionpaw gazed longingly at every patch of moss, wishing he could lie down and rest. He trotted after the patrol, trying not to trail too far behind as they followed the ShadowClan border, renewing the scent markers.
“All clear here,” Dustpelt meowed at last.
Great, now we can go home!
Sandstorm sniffed the air. “Let’s check the WindClan border.”
Lionpaw’s heart sank.
The patrol turned and headed back through the forest.
Lionpaw felt his eyes glazing with tiredness. Suddenly, a movement caught his eye. Far off through the trees, something was stirring.
Tigerstar! He scanned the forest, but it was only a fern flickering in the light breeze. Why had they come that morning?
Tigerstar had said they’d been watching him. They must know I’ve been meeting Heatherpaw. His paws tingled. Did they think he was doing something wrong? But they had warned him about Spiderleg. Perhaps they only wanted to help him. But why?
The patrol neared WindClan’s territory. A small gully marked the border, a stream trickling at the bottom between tangled ferns and brambles. Beyond it, the forest stretched farther before opening onto the moorland. Dustpelt stopped to mark a tree. Honeypaw clambered down into the gully for a drink, disappearing beneath thick brambles.