A shadow moved beside her, just recognizable through the muddy water. It was the pale, sleek-furred belly of a RiverClan cat.
Hollowpaw!
The apprentice grabbed Ivypaw’s scruff and heaved her clear of Darkstripe’s paws. Through the murk, Ivypaw could make out the shadowy outline of the Dark Forest warrior fishing around the riverbed with swiping paws. Close beside her, Hollowpaw signaled toward Darkstripe’s hind legs with his muzzle, bubbles spilling from his nose. Ivypaw understood. Though her lungs screamed for air, her panic had faded. She could last a little longer. Together they turned and pulled themselves along the riverbed like a pair of otters and knocked Darkstripe’s hind paws out from beneath him.
As he collapsed into the water, Ivypaw shot skyward and broke the surface, gasping. Hollowpaw bobbed up next to her, and they shared a yowl of triumph. Downstream, the water splashed and frothed as Darkstripe struggled to find his footing.
As Darkstripe fought his way clumsily upstream to join them, Hollowpaw whispered to Ivypaw, “Stay clear of his paws.” Then the RiverClan apprentice swam back toward Snowtuft.
Ivypaw called innocently to Darkstripe, “Do you want to try the move out on me?”
The tabby warrior narrowed his eyes. Water dribbled from his chin. “Okay.” Was that wariness in his gaze?
Ivypaw leaned into the current, bracing her paws against a rock on the riverbed. She wasn’t going to cheat. She waited for Darkstripe to take a breath and prepared to feel his paws knock out her hind legs. As he pulled them out from under her, she darted forward like a fish, escaping his reach. She didn’t even go under.
Amazed that she felt so at ease in the warm, greasy water, she turned, ready to try the move again on Darkstripe. Utterly focused now, she swiped his paws from under him and swam clear in one clean, quick move. She felt a surge of pride. No other ThunderClan warrior was trained to fight in water.
Breaking the surface, she saw Hawkfrost beckoning the trainees from the bank with his thick, mackerel-striped tail. “Not bad,” he called as they padded, drenched, from the river.
Ivypaw shook out her pelt, not caring that she sprayed Darkstripe.
“Though I expected better of you, Darkstripe,” Hawkfrost sneered at the skinny warrior. “I would have thought you could hold your own against an untrained apprentice.”
Darkstripe snorted and slunk away into the trees.
“Ivypaw?” Tigerstar’s mew made her jump. She jerked around to see the dark warrior slide from the water and pad up the bank.
“All ThunderClan cats should learn to get their paws wet.” He shook out his pelt. “You had some nice moves there.”
Ivypaw dipped her head. “Thanks.”
“Have you seen Tigerheart?”
The question took her by surprise. “Me?” Did Tigerstar know that she always kept her eyes open for the young tom when she was in the forest? “No.”
“He’s late again,” he growled. “He’s been coming later and later every night. Is he sick?”
“I can ask at the next Gathering,” Ivypaw offered. Her ear twitched.
“I’ll track him down.” Tigerstar’s tone made Ivypaw shiver. Was Tigerheart in trouble for staying away?
Hawkfrost cleared his throat. “Time to leave.” Far away through the trees, beyond the edge of the Dark Forest, the sky was lightening. Ivypaw stifled a yawn as she turned and headed away from the river.
“See you tomorrow,” Hollowpaw whispered before vanishing into shadow.
The trees around Ivypaw melted into ferns, and she found herself curled in her nest. She could hear Dovepaw breathing.
She’s back.
But only in the last few moments. Her breathing was fast, as though she’d just settled down, and the scent of snow was fresh on her pelt. Ivypaw’s nose twitched. There was another scent in Dovepaw’s fur, too. A familiar one. Ivypaw tried to remember what it reminded her of, but her eyes were growing heavy. Exhausted, she slid into sleep.
“What’s this?” Whitewing’s shocked mew woke Ivypaw.
She jerked up her head. “What?”
“Blood!” Her mother’s eyes were round. “Blood in your nest.” The white warrior ducked down to sniff at the moss sticking out among the twigs and gasped. “It’s on you, too! Are you hurt?”
Ivypaw flinched away. “What are you doing in here?”
“The dawn patrol left ages ago, and neither of you was up, so I came in to wake you.”
Dovepaw climbed blearily out of her nest. “I guess we’ve been training hard.”
“Is that why there’s blood in your nest?” Whitewing was staring at Ivypaw, her eyes dark with worry.
The ferns rustled, and Bumblestripe poked his head in. “What’s all the noise?” he demanded.
“Get Jayfeather,” Whitewing ordered. “Ivypaw’s hurt.”
“No!” Ivypaw protested, “I’m fine.” But Bumblestripe had already gone.
Ivypaw felt hot under her fur. No one needed to know about the scratches Thistleclaw had left on her neck. She thought the river had washed them clean, but clearly they’d still been oozing when she’d returned from the Dark Forest. She glanced down at the moss. It was dark where blood had soaked it. Her gaze caught Dovepaw’s.
“It must be a thorn in the moss,” Ivypaw mewed quickly.
Come on, Dovepaw! Back me up.
Dovepaw shrugged. “Yeah, a thorn,” she mewed before pushing her way out of the den.
Thanks a lot! Ivypaw was fuming that Dovepaw had left her to calm down their mother by herself. “Maybe there’s a sharp stone in my nest.”
“Let me look.” Whitewing bundled Ivypaw out of the way and began sifting through the moss with her paws. “I can’t feel anything.”
Jayfeather nosed his way into the den, carrying a folded leaf. Bumblestripe and Cinderheart barged in after. Ivypaw backed away from her nest.
Jayfeather dropped the leaf at her paws and opened it. It was smeared with thick green ointment. “Let me check you over,” he ordered.
Ivypaw shuffled away. “It’s just a scratch.” He knows I visit the Dark Forest. He’ll guess this isn’t a thorn scratch.
Cinderheart was sniffing in Ivypaw’s nest. “All that blood from a thorn?”
“This might hurt a bit.” Jayfeather began smearing thick pulp onto Ivypaw’s scruff.
Please don’t tell. Fear throbbed harder than pain.
Jayfeather sighed. “It’s nothing too serious, but I can smell some infection.” He wiped another pawful of pulp from the leaf wrap. “You should be more careful.”
Ivypaw shrank under her pelt. There was an edge in his mew. He knew exactly where she’d gotten the wound.
“Will she be okay?” Cinderheart fretted.
Whitewing pushed closer. “Has the bleeding stopped?”
Go away! Ivypaw’s ears pounded. The cuts were stinging where Jayfeather was rubbing in ointment. Just leave me alone!
“She’ll live.” Jayfeather sat back on his haunches and refolded the leaf. “Come for fresh ointment tonight.” He picked up the leaf in his teeth and headed out of the den.
As he left, Dovepaw slid back in.
“Have you come to watch, too?” Ivypaw snapped.
Dovepaw leaned past Cinderheart into Ivypaw’s nest, rummaged for a moment, and then sat up. “Is this what you were looking for?” She spat a long thorn onto the ground.
Whitewing pawed it gingerly. “No wonder there was so much blood!”
Cinderheart frowned. “How did that get in there without you noticing?”
Ivypaw felt a flood of warmth for her sister. As Dovepaw stretched forward and sniffed at her wounds, Ivypaw whispered in her ear, “Thank you.”