Tallstar's Revenge (8 page)

C
HAPTER
7

“Wake up, sleepy slug.”

Tallpaw felt a paw brush his ear. Blinking, he jerked up his head. Sunshine was streaming under the gorse, flooding his nest. It silhouetted Dawnstripe at the den entrance.

“I didn't think
anyone
could sleep longer than Shrewpaw.” Dawnstripe flicked her tail. “But he's been pacing the entrance with Hareflight since the sun touched the heather.”

“He's just showing off,” Tallpaw growled under his breath. He hauled himself to his paws. His muscles ached after yesterday's trek and his pads were still sore. Why hadn't Shrewpaw woken him? They were supposed to be training together.

“Hurry up.” Dawnstripe turned and stalked away.

Pelt pricking with irritation, Tallpaw clambered out of his nest. It wasn't as soft as his nest in the nursery, or as warm. The gorse bush that overhung the apprentices' den didn't stop the breeze from swirling in straight over Tallpaw's nest. By leaf-bare it would be freezing. Stagpaw, Doepaw, and Ryepaw had already made nests at the back of the den, pressed against the smooth boulder that held back the roots of the bush. Tallpaw eyed his denmates' nests jealously and decided to collect heather and snagged wool as soon as he got the chance, to make his own nest so deep and well protected that no wind could reach through it.

“Stop dawdling, Tallpaw!” Hareflight called.

Shrewpaw was pacing beside his mentor while Dawnstripe talked quietly with Cloudrunner, muzzles close. Stagpaw and Doepaw were at the prey heap sifting through yesterday's catch, and Ryepaw was hauling a wad of sheepswool toward the elders' den.

Everyone's been awake for ages!
Tallpaw shook out his pelt and hurried toward Dawnstripe. He ached all over. “My legs hurt,” he complained.

“They need exercise.” Dawnstripe's gaze flicked toward him briefly before returning to Cloudrunner.

“But they feel—”

Dawnstripe cut him off. “You'll be okay once we're out on the moor.”

Tallpaw twitched his tail crossly. Palebird would have fussed over him. Sandgorse would have told him that it was growing pains and that he was turning into a fine warrior.

Where
is
Sandgorse?
Tallpaw scanned the clearing. He hadn't seen his father since his naming ceremony. He'd gone to his nest straight after training yesterday and was asleep by the time Sandgorse's patrol had returned from the tunnels.

“You managed to wake up, then, Wormpaw.” Shrewpaw was staring at him.

“Yeah, bug-breath,” Tallpaw hissed back.

Dawnstripe spun around. “Only kits name-call,” she snapped.

“Shrewpaw started it,” Tallpaw defended himself.

Dawnstripe looked at him sternly.

Shrewpaw's whiskers twitched. “Perhaps
tattle
paw should go back to the nursery.”

Tallpaw dug his claws into the ground. He wanted to rake Shrewpaw's nose.

Dawnstripe stepped between them. “We're meeting up with the older apprentices later, to help with their final assessment.”

Tallpaw blinked. “How?” He pictured himself being mauled in a mock battle.

“They need a lure for their tracking exercise,” Dawnstripe told him.

Shrewpaw wove around Cloudrunner. “Can I help, too?”

The pale gray tom dipped his head. “Ask Hareflight.” He turned to Dawnstripe. “Let's meet at Outlook Rock.”

“Okay,” Dawnstripe agreed. “I want Tallpaw to warm up first.”

“I'm already warm,” Tallpaw told her. The greenleaf sun was hot on his pelt, even though it had hardly lifted above the heather.

“I meant I want you to stretch your muscles,” Dawnstripe told him. “You'll need to lose yesterday's stiffness before you work with the older apprentices.”

Tallpaw's pelt burned, and not from the sunshine. He glared at Shrewpaw, ready for a stinging comment. A gray pelt slid in front of him, distracting him.

“Hi, Hickorynose,” mewed Tallpaw.

The tunneler padded past Tallpaw without speaking and pushed his way through the entrance tunnel. Sandgorse followed.

Tallpaw darted forward. “Sandgorse!”

But Sandgorse didn't seem to hear him. Tallpaw stared in surprise as his father ducked into the tunnel and disappeared.

Dawnstripe's whiskers brushed his ear. “He must be thinking about the new tunnel,” she murmured. “Mistmouse was saying they've reached a tricky seam of gravel.”

“I guess.” Tallpaw stared sadly at the trembling heather. Were the tunnelers going to treat him like he was from a different Clan now?

Hareflight marched past Shrewpaw. “Let's get going.”

Dawnstripe followed him. “Come on, Tallpaw. Let's race some of that stiffness from your legs.” She ducked through the gap. Shrewpaw pushed in after her. Tallpaw followed, wondering if it was possible to race stiffness away.

A light breeze whisked his ears as he emerged onto the smooth grass. He scanned the moor for a sign of Sandgorse, but his father had already disappeared. Dawnstripe's golden tail flashed between two bushes. Tallpaw could hear paw steps thrumming, and raced after her. He zigzagged along the weaving track, narrowing his eyes against the twigs that lashed his face. Would he ever know all the trails on the moor as well as Dawnstripe seemed to? She ran ahead, sure-pawed, making each twist and turn as easily as a rabbit. Tallpaw felt awkward, jerking around the corners, tripping on roots, and trying not to fall.

The trail lightened up ahead and the heather suddenly opened onto a clearing on the hillside. Dawnstripe skidded to a halt. “This is where you'll do most of your training.” She nodded to the wide sweep of grass. Boulders clustered at the far end of the sheltered space.

Hareflight and Shrewpaw burst from the heather behind them and stopped. Hareflight flicked his tail. “Three laps,” he ordered Shrewpaw.

Shrewpaw tore away, following the line of bushes around the edge of the clearing. He sped over the grass, fast as a skimming bird.

Tallpaw blinked at Dawnstripe. “Me too?”

“Just once around,” she told him.

Tallpaw hared after Shrewpaw as fast as he could. He didn't want to lag behind his denmate.

“Take it easy!” Dawnstripe called after him. “You're just warming up, remember?”

So's Shrewpaw!
Tallpaw raced harder.

His lungs ached. A cramp stabbed his ribs. Shrewpaw was already halfway back. At this rate, the dark brown tom would lap him by the time he reached Dawnstripe. Tallpaw forced himself to keep going. The grass flashed beneath him as he fought for each breath. Shrewpaw slithered past Hareflight and Dawnstripe. Tallpaw began to gain ground. Dragging in another breath, he hurtled the last few tail-lengths and skidded to a halt beside Dawnstripe.

He collapsed onto the grass, flanks heaving. “Fast, huh?” he gasped, pleased with his effort.

“It's not a race.” His mentor leaned over him. “The best warrior is the one who's still fighting at the end of the battle. Don't use up all your strength in the first fight.”

Tallpaw looked up at her, eyes glazed as he panted.

“Come on, Shrewpaw!” Hareflight called to his apprentice. “Longer strides!”

“Watch him,” Dawnstripe ordered. “See how much land he covers with each step. Watch how he stretches forward each time his paws leave the ground. Speed is vital, but you need to be in control of the speed.” She nosed him to his paws. “You're fast, but you run like prey, not a hunter.”

Hareflight was still watching Shrewpaw. “Nice paw-work,” he called as Shrewpaw swept past. Tallpaw felt the wind from his pelt.

He watched how Shrewpaw curved his spine with each stride, stretching his forepaws and tucking his hind legs in close before thrusting himself out flat again. “Can I try again?” he asked Dawnstripe.

“Got your breath back?” Dawnstripe asked.

“Yes.”

“Don't aim for speed,” Dawnstripe warned. “You need your strength later.”

Tallpaw dipped his head and padded away. He broke into a run, not pushing hard at first but gaining rhythm and speed as he crossed the grass. He focused on each bound, curving his spine the same way Shrewpaw did, and reaching out with his forepaws a little farther before they touched the grass. He pushed harder with every stride until he was aware of nothing but the steady thrumming of his paws and the way his breath fell in time with his pace. He was suddenly moving with ease, as though the wind were carrying him while the grass slid beneath him like air beneath a swallow's wings.

“Very good!” Dawnstripe's mew surprised him. He'd completed a circuit of the training ground already, so focused that he hadn't seen her. He pulled up, slowing to a trot before turning and padding to her side.

Hareflight dipped his head. “Nice work, Tallpaw.”

“You learn quickly,” Dawnstripe meowed.

Shrewpaw slewed to a halt a few tail-lengths away. “Not bad for a tunneler.”

I'm not a tunneler!
Tallpaw choked back the words.

Hareflight glanced up the hillside. “We should meet the others.”

Tallpaw followed his gaze. “Is Outlook Rock over there?” He squinted across the heather but could see nothing but blue sky arcing over the moor.

Dawnstripe headed up the slope. “I'll show you.”

 

Outlook Rock stuck out from the moor-top like a snipe's beak. Below it, the land dropped away, the valley so steep and long that Tallpaw couldn't tell whether the white shapes in the meadow below were sheep or dandelions. He padded gingerly over the stone, feeling the wind tug at his pelt as he peered over the edge. The whole world rolled out before him, fading against the clouds on the distant horizon. Dizzy, Tallpaw shrank back. What if a gust of wind lifted him off? The granite beneath his paws was too smooth to grip.

“Look ahead, not down,” Dawnstripe warned from behind him.

Tallpaw fixed his gaze on the horizon. Highstones gleamed palely in the sunshine. Beyond them, mountains nudged at the sky. Movement flickered at the corner of his vision and he found himself twitching, his gaze flitting from a wind-ruffled tree to a distant monster flashing along a Thunderpath. A buzzard swooped in the distance, snatching his attention up to the sky.

“They're coming!” Shrewpaw's call made him turn.

Cloudrunner, Aspenfall, and Larksplash were leading their apprentices up the slope. Dawnstripe beckoned Tallpaw with a flick of her tail and he hurried to her side as Stagpaw, Ryepaw, and Doepaw leaped onto Outlook Rock. The three apprentices looked somber and focused as they lined up along the rock and sat down.

“What are they doing?” Tallpaw whispered to Dawnstripe.

“They're being tested on their observation skills,” Dawnstripe hissed back. “Keep quiet so you don't disturb them.”

Cloudrunner stood behind Stagpaw. “What do you see?” he asked his apprentice.

“Red monster; lapwing diving for insects; a Twoleg walking across the Thunderpath.” Stagpaw leaned forward and squinted. “Dog running along a hedgerow.”

“Which way?” Cloudrunner prompted.

“Toward the scent line.”

“How long before it reaches it?”

“Long enough for a runner to fetch a patrol from camp.”

“Good.” Cloudrunner looked over his shoulder at Aspenfall. “Doepaw's turn.”

“Twoleg climbing a fence; rogue crossing the Thunderpath.”

Tallpaw watched her steadily scan the landscape. His attention had been caught by one movement after another, and his neck ached from jerking his head around. Doepaw seemed to be directing her gaze at each place in turn, picking objects out with fixed concentration before shifting her head.

Ryepaw was even better. “The Twolegplace loner is sunning himself on his green-patch. There's a heron fishing the stream beside Long Wall.”

Dawnstripe leaned down to Tallpaw. “Ryepaw has the best eyesight in WindClan,” she whispered.