“That should keep the rabbits away,” Birchfall meowed with satisfaction.
Dropping the stick, Ivypool felt a brief claw-scratch of worry. “I hope we did the right thing. What if other foxes smell fox scent here? Will they think this is their territory?”
Birchfall shrugged. “They’re mouse-brained if they do. But we’d better tell the patrols what we’ve done, or they’ll be bringing back reports of fox invasion.”
Ivypool nodded. “I’ll find Brambleclaw and tell him.” I hope this was a good idea, she thought, misgiving stabbing her like a thorn in her pad. We’ve just brought the scent of our worst enemy into the heart of our territory.
She headed for the trail back to the camp, with Birchfall just behind her. “Let’s go back the long way, by the stream on the WindClan border,” he suggested. “I want to wash the fox stink off my paws.”
On their way to the border, they pushed through clumps of cool green ferns, the fresh green tang beginning to mask the fox scent on their fur. Ivypool felt herself relaxing in the familiar surroundings. But heading down the slope toward the stream she failed to see a branch lying in the grass. As she tripped over it, pain stabbed her leg where she had been wounded in the training exercise the night before.
“Mouse dung!” she muttered, wincing.
“You’ll need to be quicker next time,” Birchfall commented; clearly he knew exactly how she had gotten her injury. “You should watch where you’re putting your paws. It would be a shame if you couldn’t fight anymore because of a stupid accident. You must know how tough the training is.”
Ivypool gave him a swift glance. “Yeah.”
Her pads prickled with the strangeness of sharing her nocturnal life with a Clanmate, especially when that Clanmate was her father. Birchfall must think I want to be part of Tigerstar’s plans, she thought uneasily. He doesn’t know that I’m spying for ThunderClan. And he can’t find out, she added to herself uncomfortably.
Ivypool knew that the Dark Forest cats meant to destroy the Clans. But she found it hard to believe that Birchfall and Blossomfall were enemies of ThunderClan. They must have been tricked. I know Birchfall only wants to do the best he can for his Clan. And yet she couldn’t entirely stifle her doubts, like a small worm of unease eating into her.
Trying to push her disturbing thoughts away, Ivypool reached the bank of the stream and stood beside Birchfall, gazing down into the water. “Do we really have to get down into there?” she asked.
“We could go back to camp stinking of fox,” Birchfall replied. “Not much of a choice, really.”
Reluctantly he slid down the bank until his paws splashed into the water. Ivypool followed, wading a little farther into the stream and flinching as the cold current flowed around her legs. She rubbed one paw against another to get rid of the clinging scent. Behind her, Ivypool could hear Birchfall splashing around. Suddenly the sounds stopped.
“Uh-oh,” Birchfall muttered. “We’ve been spotted.”
Four cats were looking down at them from the WindClan side of the stream. Narrowing her eyes against the light, Ivypool recognized Breezepelt and his apprentice, Boulderpaw, and beside them Heathertail with her apprentice, Furzepaw. Neither Breezepelt nor Furzepaw showed any signs of exhaustion after their training session in the Dark Forest the night before, when Ivypool had faced them in a drawn-out mock battle.
“What are you doing in our stream?” Breezepelt demanded. “Get out!”
Birchfall stood his ground. “It’s not your stream,” he pointed out. “We have as much right to be here as you do.”
“Your territory ends at the bank,” Heathertail snapped. “That’s where you’ve put your scent markers.”
“And you’ve put yours on your own bank,” Birchfall retorted. “As if any cat can put scent markers in running water!”
Ivypool felt completely stupid standing belly-deep in the stream and tilting her head up to see the cats on the bank. She waded back to Birchfall and touched his shoulder with her tail. “Let’s get out of here,” she murmured.
Birchfall didn’t move. “The stream doesn’t belong to either Clan,” he insisted. “We can wash our paws here if we want.”
Breezepelt rolled his eyes and leaned farther over the bank so that he could talk to them without Heathertail hearing him. “Look, I don’t want to fight you over this,” he muttered. “But I’ll have to if you keep arguing. Just clear out, okay?”
Birchfall looked as if he might have agreed, but just then Heathertail stepped forward. “Why are you wasting time talking?” she hissed. “We should fight them if they don’t leave. Furzepaw, why are you hanging back there?”
“I’ll fight them!” Boulderpaw announced.
“No, Boulderpaw,” Breezepelt told his apprentice. “This isn’t a battle worth fighting. These are just a couple of ThunderClan fleabags.”
Ivypool realized with a pang of anxiety that the WindClan Dark Forest warriors were allying themselves with her and Birchfall, not with their own Clanmates. That can’t be right!
“They’re fleabags who are trespassing on our territory.” Heathertail padded forward and gazed down into the stream. Her eyes glittered with fury. “Leave now, or fight.”
“Come on,” Ivypool urged Birchfall. “We don’t want any more trouble.”
“No, we don’t,” Birchfall agreed. “But we’re not the cats who are causing it.” His neck fur fluffed up with anger as he met Heathertail’s gaze. “I’m not going to back down when we’re not doing anything wrong.”
To Ivypool’s dismay, he waded across the stream and leaped up onto the bank on the WindClan side. Breezepelt let out a snarl and came to stand beside his Clanmate. “Mouse-brain!” he hissed at Birchfall. “Now I’ll have to fight you! Just wait until I see you in the Dark Forest. You need to be taught where your loyalties lie.”
“Yeah, we’ll get you then as well!” Furzepaw added, his paws tearing up the grass as he crouched for a pounce.
To Ivypool’s relief, Heathertail seemed so focused on Birchfall that she wasn’t paying attention to her Clanmates, and their voices were so soft that she would have had to strain to overhear what they were saying.
Reluctantly Ivypool waded across the stream. I have to support my Clanmate! Am I going to spend the rest of my life fighting, awake or asleep?
But before Ivypool could leap up onto the opposite bank, she heard the sound of cats crunching over dry leaves in ThunderClan territory. Sorreltail appeared from behind a hazel thicket, with her patrol hard on her paws: Bumblestripe, Hazeltail, and Berrynose. All four cats were carrying prey.
“What’s going on?” Sorreltail asked, dropping her vole.
Thank StarClan! Ivypool turned to face the tortoiseshell warrior. “Birchfall and I were washing our paws in the stream,” she explained. “Then this WindClan patrol came along and told us to get out, so—”
“So you’re going to fight,” Sorreltail sighed. “Over cats washing their paws. I never heard anything so ridiculous! Ivypool, Birchfall, get over here right now.”
Ivypool obeyed with relief, climbing out of the stream and shaking water from each leg in turn. Birchfall was more reluctant, giving Heathertail and Breezepelt a baleful look before he slid down into the stream again and waded back to his own territory.
Horror clawed at Ivypool’s belly. My father never used to be so battle-hungry, she thought. The Dark Forest is changing him!