Warriors: Power Of Three 2 - Dark River (7 page)

BOOK: Warriors: Power Of Three 2 - Dark River
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Lionpaw gulped down the last of his mouse, feeling a twinge of satisfaction. Hollypaw had probably been gossiping about him. Serves her right if it means she goes hungry. He got to his paws and hurried toward Brackenfur. Ashfur bounded across the clearing to join them.

“I’m starving!” Hollypaw complained, catching up.

“We’ll hunt after battle training,” Brackenfur promised.

The golden warrior darted through the tunnel. Lionpaw fell in beside Ashfur, leaving Hollypaw to hurry after them.

They padded to the training hollow in silence. Sun was slant-ing through the bright green leaves, and the air trembled with birdsong. Lionpaw saw Hollypaw lick her lips.

Ashfur sat down in the center of the hollow, his tail whisking over the mossy ground. “Today, we’re going to be thinking about how other Clans fight—their strengths and weaknesses, and the best way to exploit them.”

“So, what strengths do the other Clans have?” Brackenfur prompted.

“RiverClan can swim,” Hollypaw mewed, “which means they can approach from water.”

“WindClan is well camouflaged and small, so they are hardest to detect,” Lionpaw offered.

“Unless they’re upwind,” Hollypaw pointed out, “in which case their rabbity scent gives them away.”

Lionpaw bristled with indignation. Heatherpaw didn’t smell rabbity.

“What about ShadowClan?” Ashfur asked.

“Well, they are just evil,” Hollypaw growled, “so you never know how low they’ll stoop in any attack. That makes them unpredictable.”

“And weaknesses?” Brackenfur pressed.

“ShadowClan is weak because they think they are braver than they actually are,” Hollypaw mewed. “And RiverClan is so well fed that they’re slower than us.”

Lionpaw shifted on his paws, searching for something to say. Hollypaw was answering everything first.

Ashfur glanced at him. “What about WindClan?”

Lionpaw’s mouth turned dry. Ashfur’s gaze seemed to be boring into him. Had Hollypaw told her mentor about his meetings with Heatherpaw? Lionpaw started to panic as he realized that all three cats were staring at him, waiting for his answer. His paws began to itch . Come on! I know this!

Hollypaw rolled her eyes. “Lionpaw thinks WindClan has no weaknesses.” Her accusation made his ears burn with embarrassment. Why was she being so obvious? Was she reminding him she had the power to get him into big trouble?

Anger rose in his throat. “That’s not true!” he hissed.

“What’s not true?” Brambleclaw came padding down the slope toward them, Berrypaw at his side.

Lionpaw lifted his chin. “Hollypaw’s accusing me of favor-ing WindClan!”

“Why would she do that?”

“I was just teasing,” Hollypaw mewed. “Lionpaw’s being touchy. He had a nightmare.”

Lionpaw lashed his tail. Was Hollypaw determined to make him look like an idiot? He’d show her! “WindClan is fast, but not as strong as us because they don’t have any trees to climb on the moorland,” he growled, glaring at her.

“Good.” Brackenfur nodded. “You seem to know the basics. Let’s practice some moves. First, let’s try one that will work on a RiverClan cat.”

Brackenfur darted under Ashfur’s belly and nipped him on his hind leg. Ashfur rounded on him ready for the counter-attack, but Brackenfur had already shot out of reach. Ashfur leaped toward him but Brackenfur rolled out of the way, sprang to his paws and launched himself onto Ashfur’s back, unbalancing the gray warrior and sending him rolling onto his side. The two warriors jumped to their paws, shook the earth from their pelts, and turned to face their apprentices.

“Now you two try it,” Ashfur meowed.

“Lionpaw.” Brackenfur touched Lionpaw’s flank with his tail. “You be the RiverClan cat because you’re bigger and more powerful. Hollypaw, you try and unbalance him like I did with Ashfur.”

Hollypaw nodded. “Don’t make it easy for me!” Her eyes were shining with determination.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Lionpaw hissed through gritted teeth. Didn’t she know how much she was annoying him?

He felt her dart underneath him, felt her teeth graze his hind leg. But he wasn’t going to let her get away as easily as Ashfur had done. He dropped his whole weight onto her before she could scamper free, then grasped her with his paws and tugged her over onto her side.

“Hey!” she squealed. “That’s not how you’re meant to do it!”

“You should have been faster!” Lionpaw spat, and began raking her spine with his hind claws while he gripped her shoulders with his forepaws.

“You’re hurting me!” Hollypaw shrieked, struggling to free herself.

“Lionpaw, stop!” Brambleclaw’s sharp command made Lionpaw freeze. Hollypaw slid from his grip and scrambled to her paws. Brambleclaw was staring down at Lionpaw, his eyes blazing. “This is training! We don’t want any cat hurt!”

Lionpaw got to his paws. “Sorry,” he mewed. “I got carried away.”

Hollypaw was lapping at the scratches Lionpaw had given her. He felt a wave of guilt for letting his temper get away from him. He hung his head. “Sorry, Hollypaw,” he murmured. The rage that had been seething in his belly all morning faded away. “I’m really sorry.” He glanced nervously at his father, expecting anger, but Brambleclaw’s eyes were filled with concern.

“Will you two train Berrypaw and Hollypaw this morning?” The ThunderClan deputy directed his request at Ashfur and Brackenfur. “I’m going to take Lionpaw hunting.”

His pelt burning with shame, Lionpaw followed his father out of the training hollow. He braced himself for a lecture, but Brambleclaw only padded silently through the trees.

“I shouldn’t have let my temper get the better of me,”

Lionpaw blurted out, deciding to get straight to the point.

“But she’s been bugging me all morning.”

Still Brambleclaw said nothing.

“I know that’s no excuse,” Lionpaw went on. “It won’t ever happen again.”

“I know,” Brambleclaw meowed. He stopped and gazed at Lionpaw. “It’s so unlike you.” The tabby warrior sighed. “I’ve always relied on you to take care of your littermates.”

Lionpaw hung his head. He had let his father down.

“Is something worrying you?” Brambleclaw asked. “Something . . . ” The tabby warrior paused. “ . . . troubling you?” he meowed at last.

Lionpaw knew he couldn’t tell his father about Heatherpaw and how Hollypaw had stopped him from meeting her.

“It’s just . . . ” He trailed off. How could he explain his anger?

“It feels like Hollypaw doesn’t trust me to be a loyal warrior.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “I know what that’s like.” He began padding through the trees again. Puzzled, Lionpaw hurried after him.

“Being Tigerstar’s son has meant I’ve had to win the trust of every ThunderClan cat over and over,” Brambleclaw went on quietly. “So I know how frustrating it is when you have to prove something that shouldn’t need proving.”

The leafy forest floor sloped upward before them and they sank their claws into the sweet-smelling earth to help them climb.

“The trouble is that everyone only saw evil in Tigerstar.

They forgot what a bold and brilliant warrior he was.”

Lionpaw pricked his ears. Was Brambleclaw defending Tigerstar?

“I haven’t forgotten how Tigerstar betrayed his Clan,”

Brambleclaw meowed, as if he had noticed Lionpaw’s surprise. “But we all have strengths and weaknesses. It must be sad to be remembered only for your weaknesses. I hope I’ll be remembered for my strengths instead.”

“Of course you will be,” Lionpaw mewed. His fur prickled at the thought of his father being nothing but a memory.

“Every cat in the Clan respects you.”

“I wish that were true.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think there may be one Clanmate who wishes me harm.” The words came in a whisper.

Lionpaw’s heart lurched. “Who?”

Brambleclaw shook his head. “It’s not important. Forget I said anything.”

“But if there’s some cat you don’t trust—”

Brambleclaw cut him off. “If you want to be remembered for your strengths, you must work on them. And if that means proving yourself to those who doubt you, then do it.

You can’t force Hollypaw to believe in you. You have to show her that you are worth believing in.”

Lionpaw felt weariness weighting his paws. Why should he have to prove himself to Hollypaw? I haven’t done anything wrong!

Crack!

A stone clattered against the wall of the camp and thumped onto the ground outside the apprentices’ den.

Lionpaw lifted his head and blinked in the darkness. Was a rabbit foraging near the top of the hollow?

Crack!

Couldn’t be a rabbit. The first clatter would have sent it fleeing into the forest.

Curious, Lionpaw got quietly to his paws. He glanced at Hollypaw. She was sound asleep. Thank you, Brackenfur!

Hollypaw’s mentor had taken her hunting deep into the forest. She had come back exhausted, her paws sore, but happily carrying three mice.

Lionpaw slipped past her nest and ducked out of the den.

Crack!

Thump!

A pebble landed near his paws. He skittered backward and looked up cautiously. Two round eyes shone at him from the top of the cliff, then blinked.

Someone was spying on the camp! Should he tell someone? He glanced around the empty moonlit clearing. No cat stirred. He didn’t want to wake anyone until he was sure there was danger. He would look foolish if he called the alarm because some inquisitive fawn had discovered the hollow. He would investigate first and call the alarm if there really was any danger.

Whitewing’s pelt glowed at the camp entrance. She must be on guard. If there was trouble he could call to her.

Lionpaw slipped around the edge of the clearing and pushed his way among the brambles beside the medicine den.

He knew he could climb the cliff behind them. Reaching up through the prickly branches he felt the first ledge with his paws and hauled himself up. Then, moving carefully so as not to send grit showering down, he scrabbled up from ledge to ledge until finally he pulled himself onto the grass at the top.

Panting a little, he began to creep around the edge of the hollow.

“Lionpaw!” A soft mew hissed from beneath the ferns ahead. He froze as Heatherpaw slipped out from beneath the arching fronds. “Thank StarClan it’s you.”

“Did you drop those pebbles?” Lionpaw stared at her in alarm. What if she were caught here? “Is everything okay?”

“I had to see you!”

He felt a glow inside his chest. She was even braver than he thought. But he had to get her away from the camp.

“Follow me,” he hissed. He hared off lakeward down the slope. But Heatherpaw didn’t follow.

“Come on!” Lionpaw begged, skidding around and looking back.

Her eyes were shining. “Don’t go that way! I’ve got something to show you!” She turned and ducked away under the ferns.

Lionpaw hurried after her. “Where are we going?”

“Wait and see!”

She seemed to be heading toward the old fox den.

Lionpaw slowed down. “Be careful!” he warned.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “There aren’t any foxes.” She paused in front of the thick brambles that crowded the bottom of a steep slope. “Wait here.”

She dived beneath them, and Lionpaw watched her tail disappear into the dense foliage, making the bushes tremble.

Where was she going? An owl called in the branches above his head. Lionpaw fluffed out his fur and glanced around nervously.

“Here!”

Lionpaw looked up the steep slope and saw Heatherpaw blinking at him from the entrance to a small tunnel. “What are you doing in there?” It looked like a rabbit burrow.

“You’ll never believe what’s inside! Come on!” Heatherpaw scooted backward into the darkness.

Paws pricking, Lionpaw squirmed under the brambles, wincing as their barbs tugged his fur. He heaved himself up the slope, out of the thorny tangle, and paused at the burrow entrance. “Heatherpaw?” he called, his heart pounding.

“Come inside!” Her mew echoed strangely from the shadows.

Lionpaw squeezed in after her.

The tunnel was pitch-black. Crouching, he wriggled forward, damp earth pressing against his pelt. What was Heatherpaw up to? This place was hardly big enough for a rabbit, let alone a cat. Suddenly, he felt space around him, cold air washing over his fur. The tunnel had widened.

Relieved, he straightened up and padded forward until he felt Heatherpaw’s breath on his cheek.

“It leads to a cave!” she mewed. “There are loads of tunnels under this part of the hill, and one of them leads right to WindClan territory.”

“How in StarClan’s name did you find it?”

“Breezepaw sent me to catch mice between the rocks just over the top of the moor, not far from camp. I chased one down into a crack and realized that the crack opened into a tunnel. When I went inside I found that there were tunnels leading everywhere.”

“Weren’t you frightened of getting lost?”

“I explored slowly at first, making sure I got to know each route really well before trying another. And then I found one that led to a cave. It’s amazing. There’s a hole in the roof where the light comes in. Then I found a way into your territory!” Her mew was triumphant. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Lionpaw could hardly believe his ears. “A tunnel from our territory to yours!” he gasped. “That’s fantastic! If there was an attack or a fire, ThunderClan could use it to escape—”

“No!” Heatherpaw’s mew was sharp with frustration. “We mustn’t tell anyone else. Don’t you see? This can be our place!”

“Our place?”

“We can meet here without anyone ever finding us! Even Hollypaw won’t guess where you’re going.”

Lionpaw’s whiskers twitched. Now he could meet Heatherpaw as much as he liked and no one would ever know! “That’s a great idea! You’re brilliant, Heatherpaw.”

She purred and rubbed her muzzle quickly along Lionpaw’s cheek, then turned away. “Follow me. I’ll show you the cave.”

Her paw steps disappeared into the darkness. Fear surged in Lionpaw’s belly. He fought the urge to rush back out into the forest, and began to follow Heatherpaw. The blackness pressed in on him and suddenly he realized how Jaypaw must feel. He sniffed, searching for scents of fox, or rabbit or even badger, but smelled only damp earth. It was stale and musty as though no creature had walked here for moons.

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