Millie nodded. “I am rather tired.” She curled around her kits and closed her eyes.
As Daisy followed Toadkit and Rosekit out of the den, Lionpaw began picking through her bedding, pulling out stale scraps of moss. Millie’s breathing was hoarse, and the air around her smelled sour.
Lionpaw pawed together the dirty moss and gathered it in his jaws. Then he wriggled backward out of the nursery and dropped it outside. Cinderpaw was trotting through the thorn tunnel, fresh moss dangling from her jaws.
“I haven’t done Millie’s nest yet,” Lionpaw called. “I think she’s sick.”
Graystripe, sunning himself beneath Highledge, scrambled to his paws. “What’s wrong?”
“She has a cough,” Lionpaw mewed. “I was just going to fetch Leafpool.”
Graystripe was already hurrying toward the nursery. “Be quick,” he ordered, his tail bushing out.
Lionpaw padded to the medicine cats’ den. A strong smell of herbs drifted through the brambles. He nosed his way in, blinking to adjust his eyes to the gloom.
“Leafpool?”
The medicine cat was crouching beside Spiderleg, her paws green with ointment. “What is it?”
“I think Millie’s sick.”
Leafpool rubbed her paws on the moss of Spiderleg’s nest.
“I’ll put some more on later,” she promised the warrior.
“I’m feeling much better,” Spiderleg assured her.
“Good,” Leafpool meowed. “But stay in your nest. You’re healing quickly, but I want to be sure you’re completely healed before you go back to the warriors’ den.” She turned back to Lionpaw. “Are the kits okay?”
“They seem fine.”
Leafpool was rinsing her paws in the pool when Jaypaw padded into the nursery with a bunch of leaves in his jaws.
“Sort them out for drying,” Leafpool told him. “I have to check on Millie.” The medicine cat pushed her way out through the brambles.
Jaypaw began to lay out the leaves beside a gap in the cave wall.
“Did you sleep okay?” Lionpaw whispered. He wondered if StarClan had told Jaypaw anything about the vanishing sun.
“You mean, did I dream?” Jaypaw snapped. “Why can’t you just say what you’re thinking?”
Lionpaw blinked, surprised by Jaypaw’s tone. “Have you got a thistle stuck in your tail?”
“Sorry,” Jaypaw mewed. “It’s been a busy night.”
Lionpaw glanced at Squirrelflight sleeping in her nest at the back of the den. “Is she better?”
“She’s getting there,” Jaypaw mewed. “But I have to change the dressing a lot to stop infection.”
“Do you want me to fetch some more cobwebs?” Lionpaw offered.
“Cinderpaw brought back plenty this morning, thanks.”
While I was sleeping. Lionpaw’s pelt prickled with guilt. He should be doing more to help his Clan. He padded to his mother’s nest and sniffed at her fur, comforted by her familiar scent.
“Lionpaw?” Squirrelflight opened her eyes. A purr caught in her throat. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Lionpaw mewed.
“Firestar said you fought like a warrior in the battle.” Squirrelflight lifted her head to look at him through sleep-misted eyes. “You don’t seem to have a scratch on you.”
Lionpaw shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” His belly rumbled.
“You should have something to eat,” Squirrelflight murmured, resting her head down again.
“I will.” Lionpaw licked her ear gently as she closed her eyes.
Jaypaw was still sorting through the leaves he’d brought back.
Had StarClan really not shared anything with him? Or was he just keeping it to himself? “Are you hungry?” Lionpaw asked. Perhaps they could share some prey. It might make him more talkative.
Jaypaw didn’t look up. “I’ve already eaten.”
Sighing, Lionpaw headed out of the den.
Hollypaw was stretching outside the apprentices’ den.
When she spotted Lionpaw, her whiskers twitched. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she demanded, trotting toward him.
“You seemed so tired.”
“No more tired than you!”
Lionpaw snorted. “I was trying to help!” Why were his littermates so snappy with him? “If you’re so desperate to clean out the nursery, then go ahead.” He stomped to the fresh-kill pile and picked a shrew from the top. Crouching to gulp it down, he heard Dustpelt.
“We haven’t had a battle like that in moons.” The brown tabby warrior was sitting beside the halfrock with Ashfur and Poppyfrost.
“It was like the old days back in the forest,” Ashfur agreed.
Poppyfrost’s eyes widened. “You’ve had battles like that before?”
“Worse,” Dustpelt meowed. “Do you remember the battle against BloodClan, Ashfur?”
Ashfur’s tail twitched. “Now, that was a battle!”
“Did the sun go out then?” Poppyfrost mewed.
Dustpelt sighed. “No.”
“I hope this was the worst battle I’ll ever see,” Poppyfrost went on. “I was fighting two warriors at a time! I know we’d covered it in training, but I never imagined I’d have to do it.”
“You fought well,” Ashfur purred.
“Not as well as Lionpaw,” Poppyfrost breathed. “Did you see him? And there’s not a scratch on him!”
Ashfur stopped purring. “He’s ready to become a warrior.”
Lionpaw glanced up from his shrew. Ashfur was staring at him.
“There’s little else I can teach him.” The pale gray warrior got to his paws. “Lionpaw, are you ready for the patrol?”
Lionpaw swallowed and sat up. “Yes.”
Ashfur signaled to Sorreltail and Whitewing, who were sharing tongues outside the warriors’ den. They leaped to their paws and followed Ashfur to the thorn tunnel. Lionpaw hurried after them.
The forest was brighter now that the leaves were beginning to fall. Sunlight streamed through the branches and pooled on the forest floor. As they padded toward the WindClan border, Lionpaw dropped back. Was he really ready to become a warrior? Since he was a kit, he had dreamed of being the greatest warrior ThunderClan had ever known. But back then it had been a dream. Now the battles were real. He remembered with a shiver the blood pulsing from Crowfeather’s neck, and Heatherpaw’s terror. He had done that, possessed by some strength he seemed unable to control. Was that what being a warrior meant? Would he ever learn to control the power he felt in his paws?
Lionpaw shivered as the woods darkened. Clouds had covered the sun. He could hear his Clanmates rustling through the undergrowth ahead, but something moved in the ferns nearer. He paused. A shape rippled between the trees beside him. A dark-striped pelt.
Tigerstar.
The warrior growled from the shadows. “I watched the battle.” Tigerstar shouldered his way through the bushes and stepped onto the path in front of Lionpaw. “You fought well.
You were a credit to your ancestors.” His amber eyes gleamed.
Lionpaw looked past Tigerstar, searching for Hawkfrost.
“I came alone,” Tigerstar told him. “I have no patience for Hawkfrost’s sneering. He thinks you actually believe this prophecy. But I know you’re too smart to believe Firestar’s mouse-brained dreams.”
Lionpaw shifted his paws, uncomfortable under Tigerstar’s unblinking gaze. “Did you see the sun vanish?”
“It seems the Clans have displeased StarClan.” Tigerstar’s whiskers twitched. “Those starry-eyed fools never had the heart for battle. Unlike you.”
“Ashfur says I’m ready to be a warrior.”
“Really?” Tigerstar circled him. “You think you have learned all there is to learn?”