Fur brushed his pelt. Tawnypelt was beside him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Jaypaw lashed out with a forepaw, aiming for her muzzle, rage burning in his belly. “How can you attack your own kin?”
She blocked his blow with her paw. “We’ve come to help,” she hissed. “Hollypaw fetched us!” She shoved him farther back into the ferns. “Get back to the hollow and stay out of trouble!”
“What about Hollypaw?”
“Snaketail and Scorchpaw will help her.”
Jaypaw tasted the air. Two ShadowClan warriors were fighting alongside Hollypaw now, their scents mingling with the tang of fish-foul blood spraying from her RiverClan attacker. Her paws scrabbled against the path as she leaped forward and, with a yowl of rage and pain, the RiverClan cat pounded away into the forest.
“Go now!” Tawnypelt urged. She turned to head back into the fight, but Jaypaw pressed his paw to her flank.
“Firestar’s outnumbered by the WindClan border, and Dustpelt’s struggling beside the lake.”
“I’ll send warriors to help them,” Tawnypelt promised.
The ferns rustled as she hesitated. “Wait,” she hissed. “Take Mousewhisker with you. His eye’s hurt.” She leaped away and returned a moment later with the young warrior.
“I want to stay and fight,” Mousewhisker was protesting.
“Not with that eye,” Tawnypelt told him.
“I can see out of the other.”
“That’s not good enough.”
Jaypaw smelled blood. “You can come back when I’ve cleaned it up, and fight even better,” he promised.
Mousewhisker hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. “But we have to be quick.”
Tawnypelt plunged back into battle.
“Come on,” Mousewhisker prompted.
Side by side, they ran along the edge of the Twoleg path, back toward camp. Mousewhisker pressed against him, steering him through the undergrowth spilling from the edge of the forest. Jaypaw’s head was full of the sounds of horror and spilling blood. The whole forest seemed alive with wailing and clawing and the ripping of fur.
All four Clans were fighting, and StarClan had told him nothing.
Chapter 15
Lionpaw lunged at the last RiverClan warrior. The other three had fled wailing into the forest already, but this one was cornered, backed up against a bramble so tangled that even a ThunderClan cat would think twice about trying to escape through it.
Mosspelt. Lionpaw recognized the blue-eyed tortoiseshell from Gatherings. But this wasn’t a Gathering, and he was going to make her sorry she’d ever set paw on his land.
She crouched, trembling, in front of him as he padded toward her, rage darkening his vision until all he could see was her round, frightened eyes.
“Lionpaw!” Firestar’s sharp mew made him freeze.
Mosspelt darted past him and disappeared into the trees.
“Now look what you’ve done!” Lionpaw turned on his leader. “I could have finished her off.”
Wariness glittered in Firestar’s eyes. “I think she knew she was beaten.”
Lionpaw glanced down at his fur, clumped with blood, some fresh, some drying. What had he done? In the heat of battle he wasn’t always sure how he fought. He simply smelled blood and felt flesh tear beneath his claws.
“What about WindClan?” Lionpaw wondered if the rest of the invaders had been beaten yet.
“We’ve just seen the last one back over the border,” Firestar told him.
Ashfur and Berrynose slid from the undergrowth, Spiderleg and Poppyfrost beside them. Ashfur was sticky with blood.
One of Berrynose’s ears was shredded at the tip. Spiderleg was limping badly, and Poppyfrost, ruffled and bleeding, was round eyed with shock.
“What about the other patrols?” Lionpaw insisted. “We should go help them now that we’ve finished here.”
Firestar flicked his tail. “Spiderleg’s got a bad belly wound.
We need to get him back to camp before we check the rest of the territory.”
Spiderleg was lying down, flanks heaving and blood oozing onto the forest floor. Ashfur dug his nose under his denmate’s shoulder and pushed him to his paws. “Come on,” he encouraged. “We’ll get you back to Leafpool.” Berrynose pressed against Spiderleg’s other flank, and, between them, the two warriors began to half guide, half carry their injured Clanmate back toward the hollow.
“I’ll go see if I can help the other patrols while you take Spiderleg back.” Lionpaw wasn’t ready to return home. He could hear the other battles raging in the distance. He ought to be there, fighting.
“I can’t let you go into the forest alone,” Firestar told him.
Was that fear in his eyes?
Frustrated, Lionpaw joined his Clanmates as they headed for home. He tried to hurry them on by padding ahead, but Firestar kept calling him back. Spiderleg was panting, groaning with each step. Hurry up!
At last they headed down the slope toward the thorn barrier. Lionpaw halted at the entrance to let Ashfur and Berrynose help Spiderleg through. Firestar followed them in, but Lionpaw hesitated. He could hear rustling in the bushes behind him.
He stared in surprise. “Jaypaw?” His brother was trotting out of the trees with Mousewhisker.
“Are you okay?” Jaypaw called. His nose was twitching. “I can smell blood.”
Lionpaw shrugged. “It’s not mine.”
Mousewhisker’s eye was closed and swollen to the size of an apple.
“Is he okay?” Lionpaw asked.
“The cut just needs cleaning,” Jaypaw told him.
“Apart from a few scratches, it’s my only injury,” Mousewhisker meowed proudly. Jaypaw guided the injured warrior into camp, and Lionpaw trailed after them. His claws itched to be fighting again.
“RiverClan have come to help WindClan,” Jaypaw was reporting to Firestar. “But Blackstar has sent some cats to help us.”
Surprise lit Firestar’s eyes. “Blackstar’s helping us?”
“He sent a whole patrol.”
Firestar drew in a deep breath. “Then all four Clans are fighting on our territory.”
Jaypaw nodded.
“You’d better help Leafpool treat the injured.”
Leafpool was already crouching over Spiderleg, pressing leaves to his belly to stanch the bleeding.
Firestar turned back to the entrance, signaling to his patrol with his tail.
At last! Lionpaw flexed his claws and followed his leader through the barrier, refusing to step aside when he felt Ashfur pressing on his heels.
His mentor slid past him as they emerged from the tunnel.
“You should clean yourself up,” he meowed, glancing at Lionpaw’s sticky pelt.
“There’ll be plenty of time for that after the battle,” Lionpaw replied.
Ashfur veered away from the patrol, shadowing its flank, his dark pelt rippling as he slid through the undergrowth. The sun was up now, rising above the trees into a pale, empty sky.
Ashfur paused, pricking his ears, and Firestar signaled for the rest of the patrol to halt.
“Cats approaching from WindClan’s direction,” Ashfur hissed.
Lionpaw tasted the air.
WindClan.
A whole patrol.
He stiffened, tasting the air again to be sure.
Heatherpaw!
He bolted toward the approaching patrol, ignoring Firestar’s cry for him to stop. As he darted like a bird through the undergrowth, his paws skimmed the ground. The sunlight glittered golden through the trees, making it easy to spot the WindClan patrol slinking like weasels through the forest.
They were heading for the lake, hoping to finish off Dustpelt’s patrol, no doubt.