“Really?” Jaypaw forced himself to sound mildly interested, when what he really wanted to do was bounce up and down caterwauling in triumph.
“Yes, there’s—”
Just in front of the two apprentices, a rabbit started up out of a gorse thicket and streaked away across the moor. Kestrelpaw broke off what he was saying and raced after it, his belly fur brushing the coarse grass.
“Thanks, rabbit,” Jaypaw murmured.
He waited until the WindClan apprentice had disappeared, then scrambled down the slope to the rocks. Sniffing the air, he picked up the scent of water and a strong smell of catmint. A few heartbeats later he found it: a spring welling up between two of the rocks, with thick clumps of catmint growing all around it.
For a moment Jaypaw stood still, breathing in the scent of the precious herb. He wished desperately that he could tear off a bundle of the stalks and carry them back to his Clan, but he was still dreaming. Some cat would have to come here in the waking world, and steal some of the herb from WindClan.
It’s not really stealing, he told himself. Not when we need it so badly.
And WindClan has plenty.
Gradually Jaypaw realized that the catmint was not all he could smell. A familiar scent clung around the rocks, the scent of caves and earth and deeply buried water. Scrambling among the stones, he tried to find where the scent was strongest.
Finally he found it: a narrow gap between the rocks, leading down into darkness.
This must be an entrance to the underground tunnels! Maybe this is the way WindClan came when they raided our territory.
In the mud in front of the gap he could see the traces of several paw prints. Taking a quick glance around, he padded forward and squeezed himself through the gap. The passage quickly grew wider, and Jaypaw could make out the scent of WindClan cats clinging to the stones.
“Jaypaw! Jaypaw!”
Jaypaw stiffened; had Kestrelpaw spotted him going into the tunnel and become suspicious?
“Jaypaw!” A paw prodded him sharply in the side. “Jaypaw, Millie’s fever is worse. Can you fetch her some moss soaked with water?”
Jaypaw opened his eyes on darkness and scrambled out of his nest, shaking himself to dislodge scraps of moss and bracken from his pelt. The chill of early dawn filled the den, together with Leafpool’s fear scent; at the other side he could hear Millie’s harsh breathing and Briarkit mewling pitifully.
“She’s going to die, isn’t she?” The little kit sounded terrified. “And I’ll never see her again, ’cause I don’t know the way to StarClan.”
“We’re doing all we can.” Leafpool moved away, and Jaypaw pictured her bending her head to comfort the frightened kit. “And even if she does die, you’ll see her again one day.
When she’s in StarClan, she’ll know the right time to come and fetch you.”
“Are you sure?” Briarkit still sounded uncertain.
“I promise you,” Leafpool reassured her.
Jaypaw’s legs started to shake with fear. Leafpool was acting as if she was resigned to watching every one of her Clanmates die. We have to get that catmint now! “I’ll fetch the moss,” he mewed, and whisked out of the den.
As soon as he had delivered the dripping moss to Millie, he slipped out again and crept through the branches into the warriors’ den. The air was full of the warm scent of sleeping cats; it was so early that hardly any of them were stirring.
Jaypaw located Lionblaze by his scent, and woke him with a sharp prod in the shoulder.
“Uhhh…?” Lionblaze’s muscles flexed and he raised his head. “Jaypaw? Is something wrong?”
Jaypaw bent his head to whisper in his brother’s ear. “I know where there’s a supply of catmint.”
“Really?” Jaypaw could sense Lionblaze’s excitement.
“Where?”
“In WindClan, near the entrance to a tunnel. You have to go and fetch some.”
The excitement Jaypaw could feel in Lionblaze changed abruptly to horror and disgust. “No,” he mewed hoarsely. “I’ll never go to WindClan. Never!”
Chapter 13
Lionblaze felt cool grass brushing his belly fur as he crept forward.
The scent of WindClan was in his nostrils. Leaves scraped his pelt and left raindrops on his ears and whiskers, but he was concentrating too hard to flick them away. Every muscle in his body was focused on what he could see in front of him.
Now! Pushing off with his powerful back legs, Lionblaze leaped. The squirrel fled, but it was too late. Lionblaze’s claws sank into its shoulders and he killed it with a swift bite to the throat.
As the squirrel went limp, Lionblaze’s vision blurred. A lake of scarlet, sticky blood spread out across the grass and leaves of the forest floor; he could taste the stench of it. The squirrel became a gray-furred she-cat. Lionblaze found himself looking down at Heatherpaw’s dead body; her blood clogged his paws.
“No… oh, no,” he whispered.
Ever since Jaypaw had asked him to fetch the catmint from WindClan, two sunrises before, Lionblaze had felt guilty. But he couldn’t do it. He was too scared that his dream would come true, and he would end up killing Heatherpaw.
He shuddered, staring at the dreadful vision of the dead cat he had once loved. Yet again, he wished that he could be an ordinary warrior, without the powers that terrified him more and more as they grew stronger.
If only I could tell Jaypaw how I feel… But he couldn’t show weakness to his brother, not when Jaypaw was depending on him to fulfill his part of the prophecy. He only knew that he couldn’t risk going into WindClan territory, especially not through the tunnels. Heatherpaw had betrayed him; Lionblaze desperately wanted to believe her story that it was the kits who had given away the secret of the tunnels, but he couldn’t be sure that was true. Heatherpaw was his enemy now, because he was completely committed to ThunderClan. Why should he trust a cat from another Clan? He would never forgive Heatherpaw, but he still didn’t want her blood on his paws.
As the vision faded, Lionblaze straightened up with his prey in his jaws. Ashfur was approaching through the bracken from the stream that marked the WindClan border, carrying a couple of voles by their tails. Spiderleg followed him with a mouse.
“Well done.” Ashfur nodded at Lionblaze, dropping his prey nearby. “Have you seen Sorreltail? We’ve caught as much as we can manage.”
“Here.” Sorreltail staggered through the undergrowth, dragging a rabbit nearly as big as she was. “Whew!” Dropping her prey, she spat out a clump of fur. “Some other cat can carry that back.”
As they padded back to the stone hollow, Lionblaze’s worries started to creep back into his mind. So far leaf-fall had been mild and prey was running well, but there weren’t enough warriors fit to hunt. When he had left the camp that morning, Brightheart was coughing, and he had spotted Honeyfern heading toward the medicine cats’ den. How long before so many cats are sick that there aren’t enough of us left to take care of them?
The fresh-kill pile was ominously low when Lionblaze dropped his prey on it.
“We’ll go out again right away,” Ashfur announced, “but we should all eat something first, to keep our strength up.”
“I’m fine,” Sorreltail meowed. “One of the sick cats can have mine.”
Ashfur padded up to her. “You will eat. What good will you be to your Clan if you get sick too?”
Sorreltail stared back at him rebelliously for a heartbeat, then dropped her gaze. “Okay. You’re right.” But Lionblaze noticed that she chose the smallest mouse from the pile.