Paws brushed the grass behind her, and she turned. A brown tom with a black ear—small, lithe, clearly from WindClan—approached. He halted and nodded a curt greeting. Ivypaw frowned, trying to remember who he was. She’d seen him at Gatherings. As she groped for the name, a voice beyond the crest of the slope called to him.
“Antpelt!”
Antpelt. That was it.
As the brown warrior raced toward the voice, Ivypaw reared up on her hind legs, trying to glimpse who had greeted him. Pain shot through her sprained paw. Before she could spot another cat in the shadows, she dropped, landing heavily, back onto all fours.
A mew behind her made her jump. “You look tired.”
“Hi, Tigerheart.” She was pleased to see a cat she instantly recognized. His thick tabby pelt rippled over his powerful frame, but his eyes looked weary. “You look tired too,” she sympathized.
“I wouldn’t mind one night’s rest.” He yawned.
“I guess they want to toughen us up.”
Tigerheart didn’t seem to hear her. “I don’t suppose Dovepaw came with you tonight, did she?”
Ivypaw bristled. “They chose me, not her!” Not waiting for a response, she charged up the slope toward the trees, following the trail of crushed grass Antpelt had left. Breaking through the tree line, she hurtled into the shadows, rage pulsing in her ears. So much for being free from her sister here!
Why did Tigerheart want to see Dovepaw anyway? Did he have a crush on her?
She snorted. He’s wasting his time. There was no way Dovepaw would have anything to do with a cat from another Clan. She liked hearing Lionblaze tell her how amazing she was too much to risk breaking the warrior code.
Growling, Ivypaw swerved among the trunks. She saw the matted orange-and-white pelt too late, and slammed into the side of a thick-furred she-cat. Recovering her balance, she turned on the warrior who’d blocked her way. “That was a dumb place to sit!” Ivypaw snarled, still seething.
Before Ivypaw could draw breath, the orange-and-white she-cat leaped on her. Ivypaw felt claws at her neck, and her breath shot from her chest as the warrior thumped her to the ground and pinned her there. Terror flooded Ivypaw as she struggled for air. She froze as the warrior leaned slowly closer.
With stinking breath and lips drawn back, the orange-and-white she-cat snarled, “Show some respect, apprentice.” She curled her claws until the thorn-sharp tips sank into Ivypaw’s skin. “You don’t want to die in a place like this. There’s nowhere beyond here, you know. Only darkness.”
A tabby pelt flashed at the edge of Ivypaw’s vision. “All right, Mapleshade.”
Ivypaw fell limp with relief as she recognized Hawkfrost’s meow.
“Let her go.” There was a menacing growl in his voice, and Mapleshade released her grip.
Ivypaw drew a long gulp of air and began to cough. Hacking, she scrambled to her paws, her belly brushing the earth as she crouched and tried to catch her breath. She was shaking from nose to tail.
“Pull yourself together,” Hawkfrost snapped.
Mapleshade flicked her tail. “Try to keep your visitors under control.” She turned and stalked away, muttering, “I preferred it here when it wasn’t overrun with wide-eyed idiots.”
Ivypaw blinked up at Hawkfrost. “Sorry.”
“Never mind Mapleshade,” he answered briskly. “She’s been here a long time. But not for much longer.”
Ivypaw glanced nervously at the departing warrior. The shadows seemed to be swallowing her, and Ivypaw realized with a start that the she-cat’s outline hung in the air like mist. She could clearly see the trees on the other side of Mapleshade, where she should only have been able to see the warrior’s sturdy body. Ivypaw shivered. “Do all cats fade away?”
“Eventually,” Hawkfrost growled. “If they survive long enough.”
He headed away through the trees. Ivypaw hesitated for a moment, her belly tight. She never wanted to fade away. She shook out her fur and bounded after Hawkfrost.
“Are you okay?” Hawkfrost was frowning at her hind paw as she caught up.
Ivypaw remembered the sprain. “Fine, thanks.”
Hawkfrost leaped a narrow gully in the forest floor. “If you’re not up to training, go home.”
Ivypaw jumped after him, gritting her teeth as her paw jarred on landing. “You should be glad I’m here. Jayfeather knows.” The words tumbled out of her mouth. She hadn’t planned to tell, but she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.
Hawkfrost turned his head. “Knows what?”
“That I come here,” Ivypaw confessed. “Dovepaw told me.”
“So she knows, too.” Hawkfrost paused and stared at Ivypaw. “And?”
What does he want me to say? Ivypaw shrugged. “And… nothing.”
Hawkfrost nodded and set off again.
“After all, I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?” Ivypaw hurried to catch up. “They should be grateful I’m doing extra training. ThunderClan warriors don’t seem to care about fighting. I spent all day building dens.”
Hawkfrost’s pelt brushed the smooth bark of a tree. “You’re not doing anything wrong at all,” he told her. “Don’t you think I’d warn you if you were?”
He led her into a clearing, where a gray-and-black rock jutted from the earth like the hunched back of an ancient badger. Cats circled the stone, and Ivypaw recognized Antpelt and Tigerheart. Tigerheart nodded a greeting, but Ivypaw ignored him. She was too busy looking for other cats she knew. She had never seen so many Clan cats in the Dark Forest before. She spotted the sleek, dark gray pelt of the RiverClan she-cat Minnowtail, and farther along, Breezepelt paced beneath a lightning-blasted pine tree.
Ivypaw halted beside a small white tom. She shivered when she saw the long scar that parted his belly fur and curled over his shoulder to the tip of his ear like a bulging pink snake.
Hawkfrost introduced them. “This is Snowtuft.”
Ivypaw nodded shyly, trying not to stare at his scar.
“That’s Shredtail, and that’s Sparrowfeather.” Hawkfrost flicked his tail toward two more Dark Forest warriors. Shredtail’s dark tabby pelt was crisscrossed with old wounds, and Sparrowfeather, a small mottled she-cat, had a muzzle that looked as though it had been savaged by a dog. Ivypaw curled her claws and lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to let her new Clanmates know how nervous she was feeling.
“Thistleclaw!”
Hawkfrost’s greeting made Ivypaw jump. She’d heard nursery tales about Thistleclaw. He’d been Tigerstar’s mentor, and some cats said it was Thistleclaw who’d first taught Firestar’s old enemy the meaning of cruelty. She jerked around to see a large tom pad slowly into the clearing. Uneven patches of gray mottled his white face. His white shoulders rippled with strength, and he lashed his long gray tail.
“Good evening, Hawkfrost.” His sharp green eyes flashed at his Dark Forest ally. “Not many with us tonight.”
“Only the best,” Hawkfrost replied.
Thistleclaw slowly circled the rock. Ivypaw held her breath. What kind of training session would this be? She lifted the weight from her aching paw, hoping it would hold out.
“You.” Thistleclaw nodded to Shredtail. “Get on the rock.”
Shredtail scrambled up quickly and stood on the broad, smooth stone.
Thistleclaw’s green gaze glittered. “I want you to work together,” he ordered. “You’ve got to knock him from the rock without letting him strike a blow to your heads.” He stared at Shredtail. “Do you understand?”
Shredtail nodded.