“Ashfoot turned us back before we got anywhere near the camp.”
Lionpaw dropped the moss. “Turned you back?”
“We didn’t even get a chance to explain,” Hollypaw told him. “They accused us of coming to steal prey.”
“But they’ve been stealing our prey!” Lionpaw was furious.
“I know!” Hollypaw clawed a lump of moss from the root and flung it onto the pile. “But I think we found out why they’re doing it.”
“Who cares why?”
Hollypaw ignored his comment. “Their own prey has disappeared.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“But at least we know what’s wrong now.” We can solve the problem before it spoils everything.
“I hope Firestar sends a patrol to teach them a lesson.”
Hollypaw fought the urge to agree. She must think logically. WindClan had to be stopped from stealing prey, but not weakened. There had to be four strong Clans. “Firestar doesn’t think we should attack them,” she mewed. “He’s just going to post more border patrols.”
Lionpaw lashed his tail. “We’ve done that before. This time we need to show them once and for all that they can’t hunt on our land.” He glared at her so fiercely that Hollypaw found herself leaning away.
“Do you want a battle?” She gasped. Was he even thinking about Clan boundaries?
“Don’t you?”
“I want WindClan to keep to their own territory,” Hollypaw replied. “Boundaries are boundaries.” And if they disappear, what will become of the Clans? Would the warrior code disappear next?
Hollypaw’s pads prickled with fear.
Lionpaw turned away and dug his claws into a fresh patch of moss. The bark shredded beneath it and filled the moss with splinters.
That moss will be used for newborn kits! Hollypaw stared at him, shocked by his recklessness. She could tell by the muscles flexing beneath his pelt that he was thinking of battle, not kits.
Was this what power meant to him? The need to fight for the smallest reason?
Hollypaw shivered. If it did, would any cat be able to stop him?
Chapter 7
Lionpaw tugged another sprig of moss from his pelt. Hauling the stuff in and out of dens had left his fur itching. His muscles were knotted from the tedious work. Sighing, he watched the sun sliding behind the trees. The sunset patrol had left without him.
What a boring day! Frustrated, he headed to the apprentices’ den. There was nothing left to do but sleep, though he longed to run through the forest, stretch his legs, and feel the wind in his fur.
He ducked under a branch of the low-spreading yew. Inside, Foxpaw and Icepaw were chattering like sparrows.
“Whitewing taught me how to do a roll,” Icepaw boasted.
“I can fight on my hind paws,” Foxpaw countered. “Do you want to watch me?”
Lionpaw realized the young apprentice was talking to him.
Wearily, he nodded and watched Foxpaw rear up on wobbly back legs and stagger around his nest before toppling onto the moss.
“I was better this afternoon!” Foxpaw scrambled to his paws, looking flustered.
“I’m sure you were,” Lionpaw mewed. He was jealous of Foxpaw’s excitement. Since he’d returned from the mountains it seemed as though life were entirely made up of dull chores. It was all very well feeding the Clan and clearing out its dens, but when would he have a chance to use the power he felt pulsing through his paws?
He curled into his nest.
“Look!” Foxpaw called. “I’m doing it properly this time!”
Lionpaw didn’t bother lifting his head.
“Show him your new hunting crouch,” Icepaw encouraged.
Moss rustled, and Lionpaw jerked as Foxpaw pounced on him, grappling with his tail as though it were a snake. Crossly, Lionpaw heaved the apprentice out of his nest with a shove of his hind paws.
“Hey!” mewed Icepaw, protective of her littermate.
“Keep to your own nest and let me sleep!” Lionpaw growled.
“You’re no fun anymore!” Foxpaw sulked.
The yew rustled as Hollypaw padded into the den.
“Lionpaw’s been pushing Foxpaw around!” Icepaw appealed to Hollypaw.
“I can look after myself,” Foxpaw objected.
“I think Lionpaw’s tired,” Hollypaw soothed. “I’m sure he’ll want to play in the morning.”
She curled in beside Lionpaw, and he felt the gentle lap of her tongue on his pelt. Gratefully he let her wash the last scraps of moss from his fur, calmed by the rhythmic licking.
“Cheer up,” she mewed. “Brackenfur just told me we’re both going out on patrol in the morning.”
Lionpaw pricked his ears.
“Firestar’s sending extra patrols to the WindClan border to check for invaders,” she explained.
At last! Lionpaw felt a dark thrill at the thought of confronting the prey-thieves.
“We’d better get some sleep,” Hollypaw advised. “We have to be at the border by dawn.”
Lionpaw closed his eyes, relieved that at last he could be useful to his Clan in the only way that made sense.
“Lionpaw!” Tigerstar’s deep yowl roused him. He blinked open his eyes to find himself lying on bare ground, surrounded by close, whispering pine trees.
He was dreaming.
Scanning the gloomy forest, he spotted his nighttime mentor padding from the trees. Hawkfrost was already sitting in the needle-strewn hollow, his amber eyes glowing in the half-light.
“I hope you’re ready,” Tigerstar warned. “I’m going to teach you how to knock any warrior off his paws, no matter how big.” He beckoned Hawkfrost forward with a flick of his striped tail.
Lionpaw stretched his claws. “What do I do?”
“You don’t have the weight yet to overpower every cat,” Firestar told him. “That will come in time. Until it does, use your size to your advantage. You’ll have to be fast. Dart underneath your enemy’s belly, slashing the back of their forepaws as you go. They’ll twist, expecting you on one side, but you’ll be at the other to catch them off balance.”
“How do I get to the other side before they slash me?”
Lionpaw wondered.
“I told you. Be fast!” Tigerstar padded around Hawkfrost.
“Try it on him.”
Lionpaw dropped into a crouch as Tigerstar stepped out of the way. He focused on the gap beneath Hawkfrost’s white-furred belly, letting energy build in his muscles. Then he shot forward. Darting underneath the long-legged warrior, he drew a paw, claws sheathed, across his forepaws, as Tigerstar had instructed. He felt Hawkfrost twist above him. The warrior was rearing, ready to crash down on him as soon as he emerged. But Lionpaw backed sharply, pulling out the way he had come, like a rabbit backing out of its hole. He hooked his claws into Hawkfrost’s fur, careful not to prick the skin, and dragged Hawkfrost, now unbalanced, down onto the ground.
“Excellent,” Tigerstar purred.
Hawkfrost scrambled to his paws, shaking pine needles from his fur.
Lionpaw lifted his chin and gazed proudly at Tigerstar.
“Not bad, huh?”
Paws slammed into his side, knocking him to the ground.
Lionpaw struggled, gasping in surprise, but Hawkfrost held him down, his massive paws pressing hard into Lionpaw’s flank.
“Never assume you’ve won until your enemy is dead!”
Tigerstar called.
Hawkfrost leaned in close. “Found out any more about that prophecy?” he sneered.
“I don’t think about it anymore,” Lionpaw lied.
Hawkfrost gave him a pitying look. “Haven’t StarClan made you leader of the forest yet?”