Hawkfrost would have sneered at such a clumsy catch. For a moment the scent of night washed over Ivypaw’s tongue, bringing a vivid image of the warrior tom to her mind and the dark forest musk that clung to his thick pelt.
Was he a StarClan cat? Had he come especially to teach her?
Dovepaw has never been visited by StarClan! Ivypaw felt a prick of satisfaction. She would have told me.
Rain began to patter on the canopy high overhead as Dustpelt and Thornclaw caught up. Dustpelt was carrying Ivypaw’s squirrel. He dropped it and nodded toward the blackbird. “Nicely caught.”
Thornclaw shrugged. “Whatever Firestar says, I don’t see the point of hunting in pairs. Blossompaw would have caught it if Ivypaw were somewhere else catching her own prey.” He snorted. “Seems like a waste of warriors.” He glanced up as the rain grew heavier and began to drip through the branches. It splashed on his nose, making him sneeze.
“Come on,” he meowed, shaking his head. “I think we’ve seen enough. Let’s get back to camp before the downpour starts.”
Blossompaw lashed her tail. “But I’ve only caught one bird!”
The rain began to pound through the trees until the pine needles bounced on the forest floor.
“We’ve seen enough,” Thornclaw repeated. He flicked his tail toward the squirrel. “You may as well carry your own catch,” he told Ivypaw.
Pleased at the thought of walking into camp carrying such a fat piece of prey, Ivypaw grasped the squirrel in her jaws and began to head through the trees.
By the time they reached the thorn barrier, the forest was drenched. Ivypaw could hardly see her Clanmates through the fog of rain. Her paws squelched on the muddy forest floor, each sucking pawstep filling with water behind her. After so many moons of drought, the elders couldn’t complain now. There was enough water to fill the lake even if every stream dried up.
Blossompaw trotted past Ivypaw, quickening her pace to enter camp first, and tripped on the wing of the blackbird. “Fox dung!” She cursed through her mouthful of feathers. “One wretched bird while you have to catch a squirrel!” She glared at Ivypaw. “If I fail this assessment, it’s all your fault.”
She ducked into the tunnel, leaving Ivypaw startled. At the start of the morning Blossompaw had been complaining that she’d be no help. Now she was upset because Ivypaw had been too much help.
Ivypaw dragged the squirrel through the thorn tunnel. Whitewing and Millie hurried to greet them.
“You’re the first back,” Millie meowed.
Whitewing’s eyes glowed with pride as she gazed at the squirrel hanging in her daughter’s jaws. “Well done!”
Millie glanced at Blossompaw’s blackbird. “You two obviously work well together.”
Yeah, right!
Ivypaw lifted her chin to keep the squirrel out of the mud as she carried it to the fresh-kill pile.
Dovepaw ducked out from the apprentices’ den, her shoulders hunched against the battering rain. “Great catch!” she called. “It’s nearly as big as you!”
“Thanks.” Pride rushed through Ivypaw as she dropped the squirrel beside Blossompaw’s blackbird. She wanted to tell Dovepaw about Hawkfrost. She glanced around the clearing. Millie and Graystripe were crowding around Blossompaw to find out how the assessment had gone, while Thornclaw and Dustpelt sheltered beneath Highledge, conferring with Firestar.
“Come with me.” Ivypaw beckoned with her tail before scooting toward the thorns.
“Why?” Dovepaw sounded puzzled as she hurried after her. “What’s going on?”
Wait till she hears how a StarClan cat taught me how to hunt!
Ivypaw was bubbling with excitement. She slid through the tunnel and waited in the clearing outside, pummeling the muddy earth impatiently till Dovepaw caught up.
“What is it?” Dovepaw’s eyes were wide.
Ivypaw glanced around, making sure no cat was listening. “A StarClan cat came to see me,” she breathed.
“When?” Dovepaw blinked away raindrops.
“In my dream!” Ivypaw explained. “He was teaching me how to hunt!”
Dovepaw leaned closer. “Tell me more.”
Suddenly Ivypaw felt self-conscious. Did Dovepaw believe her or was she humoring her? Perhaps it had just been an ordinary dream. “This cat…” She fumbled for words. “He taught me some new hunting moves…”
Dovepaw was staring at her. “Who was it?”
“It was…”
The undergrowth shivered. “What are you doing out here?” Brightheart burst from a clump of ferns, panting. She was clearly racing for the shelter of the hollow. “You’ll catch your death!” She circled them, pressing them toward the thorn tunnel. “Inside, both of you! What would Whitewing say? Or Jayfeather? We don’t want to start leaf-bare with a medicine den full of sneezing apprentices!”
Sparking with frustration, Ivypaw allowed herself to be herded into camp. Praying the apprentices’ den would be empty, she headed straight for it, beckoning to Dovepaw. Her sister kept close as they slipped into the dry den and shook the rain from their fur.
Ivypaw turned and started to explain about Hawkfrost. “He was a warrior…”
“Dovepaw!” Lionblaze was calling through the den wall.
Ivypaw unsheathed her claws. Can’t he wait?
“Sorry.” Dovepaw looked apologetic as she backed outside. Ivypaw ripped a pawful of bracken from her nest and flung it down. Dovepaw was always racing off to talk to warriors without her. Didn’t she care about her? And since when did the least experienced cats run the Clan? Couldn’t Lionblaze manage a few moments without his precious apprentice?
The yew bush shivered as Blossompaw, Briarpaw, and Bumblepaw came bouncing in, water spraying from their pelts. “We passed! We passed!”
“Great!” Ivypaw slunk into her nest. “Congratulations!” She closed her eyes, blocking her ears to the mews of excitement as her denmates congratulated one another. If she went to sleep, Hawkfrost might teach her some more hunting moves until she wasn’t just as good as her sister—she was better. Then the Clan might start paying some attention to her as well.
Chapter 11
Rain dripped at the mouth of Firestar’s den. As Jayfeather slid in, he brought a scattering of raindrops with him. Lionblaze shuffled closer to Dovepaw.
“Any news?” Firestar asked. He glanced uneasily at his den entrance, as though he was afraid they would be disturbed.
Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Dovepaw shook their heads.
“No word from StarClan,” Jayfeather mewed.
“No more ShadowClan scents on our side of the border,” Lionblaze reported.
“Dovepaw?” The ThunderClan leader gazed at the pale gray apprentice. “Have you sensed anything?”
She stared at her paws. “Nothing,” she mumbled.
Lionblaze guessed she was uncomfortable being used as a spy. It seemed that, while Jayfeather secretly relished being able to creep into other cats’ minds, Dovepaw wasn’t used to following her senses farther than any ordinary cat could go.
She’d better get used to it. She’d been given her power for a reason.
“ShadowClan is up to something,” Firestar warned. “Border incursions are bad enough, but telling lies about them is low, even for ShadowClan.”
“They’ve always been sneaky,” Lionblaze reminded him.
“We must be even more vigilant,” Firestar growled.
“Extra border patrols?” Jayfeather suggested.
Firestar shook his head. “They’ll see it as provocation.”
Outside, the haze of rain that had obscured the camp all morning was lifting; sunshine was arcing into the hollow. But the gale that had blown the clouds away was roaring through the forest and buffeting the dens. It whined at the den entrance.