Warriors: Omen of the Stars #6: The Last Hope (18 page)

“I know.” Lionblaze scrambled up a steep bank and skirted a bramble. “I thought we could hunt squirrels.”

At the top of the slope, he broke from the trees, screwing up his eyes against the sunshine. Far below, the lake flashed shards of light as it rippled with the wind. Dying leaves swirled from the trees along the edge of the water and clouds thickened on the horizon. There would be rain before nightfall.

“Where should we start?” Hollyleaf caught up to him.

“Let’s head along the stream,” Lionblaze suggested. He could see the gully from here, running from the forest onto the shore.

“If we follow it to the beech copse,” Hollyleaf prompted, “there’ll be squirrels looking for nuts.” She raced ahead, the wind lifting her fur as she flew down the slope.

Lionblaze felt an unexpected burst of joy. For a moment he was an apprentice again, out in the forest with his littermate, his thoughts on nothing but his first catch. He pushed hard against the grass, almost skidding as he hurtled after Hollyleaf. Hollyleaf veered sideways as they reached the stream and leaped into the middle of the wide, shallow outlet, splashing through the water like an otter.

“Have you turned into a RiverClan cat?” Lionblaze yowled in surprise as she trotted confidently against the current.

Hollyleaf stopped and turned, whiskers twitching. “It could be the last sunny day of leaf-fall!” she called back. “We might as well enjoy it.” She bounded onto the bank and shook out her pelt.

Lionblaze followed, surprised by how soothing the water felt as it flowed around his paws. Hopping onto the bank beside Hollyleaf, he purred, “Race you to the beeches!”

He sped away, weaving between the trees. Hollyleaf pounded after him. He could feel her breath on his tail and pushed harder.
How fast can you run?
Bushes blurred beside him as he ran at full-pelt. He glanced over his shoulder, hoping Hollyleaf might suddenly fly past, showing speed greater than any cat in the forest. That could be the sign that she was the fourth cat. But she was trailing, falling farther behind with each paw step.

Lionblaze pulled up. Hollyleaf slowed to a halt beside him, panting. “That was fun!” She fought to catch her breath, then glanced around, her eyes lighting up as she saw the first beech. She scrambled up the trunk and looked down from the lowest branch. “Come on, slow slug!”

Lionblaze hauled himself up the tree after her. “Let’s see how high we can climb!” He was testing her again, letting her take every jump first, following the path she chose through the branches, watching every leap to see if it was lighter and stronger than their Clanmates. He spotted a wide gap between their tree and the beech beside it. “Look!”

Hollyleaf paused and followed his gaze. “What?”

“Do you think you could make that jump?”

“To the next tree?” Hollyleaf tipped her head, thoughtful, then raced along the branch and leaped from the end.

Lionblaze’s heart skipped a beat as she glided through the air. He scrambled to the end of the branch, blood roaring in his ears as Hollyleaf stretched out for the next tree and caught hold of a branch tip. Her hind legs swung down as she gripped on with her forepaws.

“Be careful!” Lionblaze yelped as Hollyleaf swung perilously. A gust of wind made the trees swirl. “Hang on!”

“I’m okay!” Scrabbling with her hind legs, Hollyleaf dragged herself up onto the branch and stood triumphant, staring back at him. “Your turn.”

Lionblaze gazed at the wide space between the trees, feeling sick. The gap yawned below him. He’d asked Hollyleaf to risk her life, just to prove he was right to believe she was the fourth cat. She’d made it, but only just. Would he be able to jump as far? “Let’s—”

Before he could finish, Hollyleaf’s gaze jerked up. The branches above her were trembling.
Squirrel.
She sprang upward and disappeared through the browning leaves, sending them fluttering down behind her. Lionblaze watched, stiff with fear, as the tree shuddered. Hollyleaf yowled once and then the leaves fell still.

“Hollyleaf?” he called.

There was no answer.

“Hollyleaf!” Lionblaze slithered down onto the next branch and raced for the trunk. Scrambling down backward, he zigzagged around the jutting branches until he could see the ground beneath him. Unhooking his claws, he dropped and landed on the forest floor.

“Hollyleaf!” Had she fallen? He scanned the ground, fear coursing through every muscle. The branch above him rustled. Lionblaze looked up.

Hollyleaf poked her head through the leaves with a squirrel dangling from her jaws. Purring, she jumped down beside him and dropped her catch. “So?” There was a challenge in her gaze. “Did I pass the assessment?”

Lionblaze blinked in surprise. “It wasn’t an assessment.”

Hollyleaf tipped her head. “Then why race me through the forest and ask me to jump around the treetops like I’ve got wings?”

Lionblaze hesitated. The wind strengthened around them, swishing through the branches overhead. “It has to do with the prophecy,” he confessed.

“Okay.” Hollyleaf nodded. “What about it?”

“There’s a fourth cat.” Hollyleaf’s ears pricked as Lionblaze went on. “I think it could be you.”

Hollyleaf looked down at her paws. “No way.”

“Why not?” Lionblaze leaned closer. “You’ve just proved that you’re a great climber and hunter!”

“I’m a trained warrior!” she argued. “I’m supposed to be able to climb and hunt. And I spent a long time taking care of myself.”

Lionblaze ignored her. “But you’d do anything for your Clan! You had the courage and skill to fight WindClan in the tunnels.” He searched her gaze. “Have you had any dreams? Has StarClan shared tongues with you? Or the Tribe of Endless Hunting?”

Hollyleaf stared at him. “I’m not a medicine cat!”

“But if you’re part of the prophecy—”

“I’m
not
part of the prophecy!” Anger edged Hollyleaf’s mew. “I killed a cat, remember?” She started to pace, her claws ripping leaves. “And not because I was being brave or noble. I killed Ashfur because I was angry that our birth had broken the warrior code!” She swung around, her eyes glittering with torment. “Ashfur died because I was so angry that I stopped caring about what was right!”

Anguish stabbed Lionblaze’s belly. “It wasn’t your fault!” He brushed around her, desperate to ease her grief. “Leafpool and Squirrelflight started it. You should blame them!”

Hollyleaf shook her head. “No, they made a mistake. They were just trying to make it better. No one should have died because Leafpool’s heart led her along the wrong path.” She fixed Lionblaze’s gaze with hers. “Doesn’t every cat do that sometime in their life?”

Lionblaze backed away. “I—I guess,” he stammered. “But in the end
real
warriors do the right thing, don’t they?”

“Yes.” Hollyleaf sat down and wearily pawed the dead squirrel. “Which is why I’m doing everything I can to make it up to my Clan.”

Hope flickered again in Lionblaze’s heart. “Isn’t that proof you’re the fourth cat?”

“No.” Hollyleaf looked up. “It’s just proof I’m a warrior, like any other ThunderClan cat.”

“But you caught a squirrel higher than any ThunderClan cat has ever hunted.”

“I’m well trained.”

“You fought in the tunnels better than any warrior.”

“Those tunnels had been my home for a long time.”

“You’re loyal to the warrior code.”

“So is every one of our Clanmates.” Hollyleaf’s gaze was unblinking.

Lionblaze’s tail drooped. He couldn’t argue anymore.

“You and Jayfeather and Dovewing are special,” Hollyleaf went on. “If I have any destiny, it’s to protect you three so you can fulfill yours.” She padded closer until Lionblaze could feel her warm breath on his fur. “I’ve never had any special dreams or visions. Everything I’ve done,
any
warrior could do.” Rain began to patter on the leaves above them. “I’m not the fourth cat,” she murmured.

“I wish it was you,” Lionblaze told her sadly. “You deserve to be part of the prophecy.” His ears twitched. “We need to find the fourth cat or everything will be lost.”

Hollyleaf pressed her shoulder against his as the rain fell harder. “Don’t give up,” she whispered. “Our ancestors have led us this far. They won’t let us fail now.”

Dovewing sat in the entrance and
peered out of the den. The camp smelled of wet leaves. “It’s stopped raining.”

Ivypool stretched in her nest. “Is it clearing up?”

“Yes.” Clouds still streaked the sky but a brisk wind was sweeping them away. “It’ll be clear by the time we get there.” Dovewing’s whiskers twitched. There would be a Gathering after all. The past stormy days had left her restless. She hadn’t seen Tigerheart since the last moonlit night.
StarClan, let him be at the Gathering.

Bumblestripe padded from the fresh-kill pile, a mouse in his jaws. “Hi, Dovewing.” He dropped it at her paws. “I thought you might be hungry.”

She pushed the mouse away. “No, thanks.”

Bumblestripe tipped his head. “Are you sure? It’s a long way to the island. I’m starving already.”

“Then go and eat something,” Dovewing meowed. On the other side of the clearing, Firestar was emerging from his den. “We’ll be leaving soon.” Dovewing glanced at Ivypool. “You look better for your rest.” At least the bad weather had meant the Clan had been confined to camp and Ivypool had been able to catch up on sleep. “Perhaps Brambleclaw will change his mind.”

The ThunderClan deputy hadn’t chosen Ivypool for the Gathering. When Dovewing had begged him to let her littermate join the patrol, he’d shaken his head. “She’s been looking tired for moons. Perhaps Jayfeather should check her.”

“She’s fine,” Dovewing had quickly reassured him.

Ivypool turned in her nest. “I’d rather stay here and sleep.”

Dovewing blinked at her. Did she want to dream her way back into the Dark Forest already?

Ivypool’s gaze flicked toward Blossomfall and Birchfall as the warriors passed the den entrance. Then she closed her eyes. “Brambleclaw’s right,” she murmured. “I
am
tired.”

Dovewing ducked outside and crossed the clearing to where Lionblaze and Cloudtail were already waiting by the thorn tunnel. Foxleap sat beside them, while Cherrypaw patted playfully at Molepaw’s twitching tail.

“Wait for me.” Rosepetal hurried to catch up. “Bumblestripe’s trying to cram in an extra mouse before we leave.”

Dovewing snorted. “He’ll be as fat as Graystripe if he keeps eating like that.”

The pale gray warrior was rummaging through the fresh-kill pile, his black stripes like moon shadows across his pelt. Graystripe nosed in beside him. “Any good prey left?”

Bumblestripe hooked out a shrew and licked his lips. “This must have been hidden at the bottom.”

“You’d better offer it to Mousefur first,” Graystripe advised. “She loves shrew.”

Bumblestripe looked across to the honeysuckle bush. Mousefur was outside, washing her ears with a trembling forepaw. Bumblestripe held out the shrew, letting it dangle from a claw. “Are you hungry, Mousefur?”

She looked up, whiskers twitching. “Not really. I wish I still had a warrior’s appetite.”

Beside her, Purdy rolled onto his back and stretched. “Do you ever miss hunting?” he asked.