Warriors: Power Of Three 4 - Eclipse (14 page)

Mothwing, Willowpaw, and Littlecloud seemed oblivious to the tension.

“Next time we come, it’ll be leaf-fall,” Mothwing commented.

Willowpaw shivered. “I’ll miss the warm nights.”

“It’s been a fine greenleaf,” Littlecloud meowed. “But the half bridge has been crowded with Twolegs. Why do they have to be so noisy?”

“At least leaf-fall will mean they’ll stop coming,” Mothwing soothed.

“That is the one comfort of the cold seasons,” Littlecloud agreed.

“Have you chosen your apprentice yet, Littlecloud?”

Willowpaw sounded eager to have a new set of paws join them on this journey.

“I have someone in mind,” Littlecloud purred.

Jaypaw waited for Leafpool to make a comment. Did she long for an apprentice who had always wanted to be a medicine cat? She knew Jaypaw had wanted to be a warrior first. Or maybe one who can see? he thought with a flash of bitterness. But Leafpool said nothing, just swept the tip of her tail lightly over his ears as she passed. Jaypaw felt hot with shame. Sometimes he wasn’t the only cat who could tell what others were thinking.

The cats fanned out around the edge of the Moonpool, Jaypaw padding in Leafpool’s paw steps until she settled at the far side. He sat down beside her, eager to touch his nose to the water. He wanted to talk to StarClan about the prophecy.

He wanted to find out if they knew of the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Would StarClan be able to explain how the Tribe knew about the prophecy?

Jaypaw lifted his muzzle. Another cat was bristling with anticipation. Mothwing.

The RiverClan medicine cat cleared her throat. “Before we share dreams with StarClan, I wish to give Willowpaw her full Clan name.”

“Already?” Willowpaw was thrilled. “Oh, wow! How can I thank you, Mothwing?”

“You have earned your name,” Mothwing replied gently.

“This is nothing but what you deserve.”

“Only thanks to you,” Willowpaw mewed. “You’ve been a great mentor.”

“And I hope I shall continue to be so.”

Jaypaw knew that Willowpaw would be an apprentice to Mothwing for as long as the RiverClan medicine cat lived, but her new name would give her a respect and status in her Clan she had not had before. His tail twitched. How long before Leafpool gave him his Clan name?

Then a thought crossed his mind: How could Mothwing perform the naming ceremony when she didn’t believe in StarClan?

Leafpool’s whiskers brushed his cheek as she leaned close.

“StarClan will hear her, even though she refuses to hear them.”

Jaypaw gasped. “How—”

“I know you better than you think, Jaypaw,” Leafpool purred.

Jaypaw pulled away. He didn’t like the idea that his mentor could second-guess his thoughts.

Mothwing began the ceremony. “I, Mothwing, medicine cat of R iverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the way of a medicine cat, and with your help she will serve her Clan for many moons.”

Was it his imagination or did the starlight feel warm on his pelt? Jaypaw closed his eyes and reached into Willowpaw’s mind. Her joy flooded over him.

“Willowpaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between Clan and Clan, and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do.” Stars swirled in Willowpaw’s mind.

“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Willowpaw, from this moment you will be known as Willowshine. StarClan honors your loyalty and your compassion. May you use them to serve your Clan for endless moons.”

Jaypaw heard Willowshine’s tongue lap Mothwing’s fur.

“Willowshine! Willowshine!” Leafpool, Barkface, and Littlecloud raised their voices to Silverpelt.

“Willowshine!” Jaypaw joined them, caught up in their excitement.

Jaypaw heard the Moonpool ripple as Willowshine’s paw tips touched the water’s edge.

“Thank you—all of you,” she meowed. “My paws were guided by StarClan in everything I have done, and I hope they will continue to guide me for the rest of my life.”

“May StarClan grant that it is so,” murmured Barkface.

“Congratulations, Willowshine,” Leafpool meowed warmly.

“Well done,” Littlecloud purred. He lay down beside the Moonpool. “StarClan will be eager to share tongues with you, I’m sure.” He touched his nose to the water and grew still.

Fur brushed stone as the other cats followed his lead and lay down to share dreams with StarClan. As Jaypaw rested his belly on the cool rock, Leafpool whispered in his ear.

“Don’t walk in Willowshine’s dreams tonight,” she warned.

“Let her meet StarClan alone.”

I wasn’t going to! He felt a flash of satisfaction. She wasn’t a mind reader after all. Jaypaw had no intentions of sharing any other cat’s dream tonight. He wanted his own meeting with StarClan, to ask them about the prophecy.

He touched his nose to the chilly water, and his mind instantly filled with lush greenery as he entered StarClan’s hunting grounds. There was no hint of leaf-fall in the air here, only trees in full leaf and undergrowth burgeoning with life.

Cats moved through it, some talking, some chasing prey, others simply basking in the sunshine. An orange pelt shimmered beyond a swath of ferns. A tabby groomed a tortoiseshell, while a cat with a black-and-white pelt crept through the long grass, stalking prey. Jaypaw didn’t recognize anyone. Ancestors from the other Clans. Jaypaw was frustrated. He wanted to talk to someone he knew.

His hopes lifted as he recognized a pelt weaving through the long grass ahead of him. Then, with a sigh, he realized it was Littlecloud. He hadn’t meant to be here, in Littlecloud’s dream. He was about to turn away when he noticed a small gray-and-white tom padding toward the ShadowClan medicine cat. The tom’s pelt was flecked with grizzled strands of fur. He must be ancient!

Littlecloud dipped his head in greeting. “Runningnose.”

The tom blinked in reply, his nose glistening between sniffs.

I’m not surprised they don’t touch muzzles. Jaypaw slipped behind a tree and listened. He knew Runningnose had been a ShadowClan medicine cat many moons ago. What kind of medicine cat can’t cure his own cold?

“How are things?” Runningnose asked.

Littlecloud hesitated, and Jaypaw could sense that he was groping for an answer.

“Is the prey running well?” Runningnose pressed. His eyes narrowed as Littlecloud fidgeted in front of him, shifting his weight from one paw to another.

“Prey’s running fine,” Littlecloud answered.

“Are the Twolegs bothering you?”

Littlecloud shook his head.

“What about Tawnypelt’s kits? Are they healthy?” Runningnose sat down, clearly puzzled as Littlecloud’s gaze darted to his paws. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“It’s Blackstar!” Littlecloud blurted out his leader’s name with a guilty glance over his shoulder. He dropped his voice to a whisper so Jaypaw had to prick his ears to catch the rest.

“He’s so . . .” Littlecloud was still searching for words. “So . . .

distant.”

“Distant?” Runningnose echoed. “Do you mean he’s left the Clan?”

“No!” Irritation edged Littlecloud’s mew. “Distant, as in distracted. He lets Russetfur organize all the patrols, and he’s started to say things.” Littlecloud flicked his tail.

“What sort of things?”

“He says he wonders if StarClan meant to bring us to the lake at all!” Littlecloud burst out.

Runningnose’s gaze darkened. “Then you’re right to be worried.”

“I am?”

“Blackstar is losing his faith,” Runningnose meowed.

Littlecloud’s ears twitched. “How can that be? He’s always believed.”

“It doesn’t matter why or how.” Runningnose rubbed a paw across his muzzle. “You must help him to find his faith again.”

“But how?” Littlecloud sounded dismayed. “What can I do?”

“Help him find his faith again,” Runningnose repeated.

The old tom was fading, growing transparent like the forest around him.

“Help me!” Littlecloud begged. But the forest had disappeared.

Jaypaw blinked open his eyes and found himself in darkness beside the Moonpool. He got to his paws, frustrated.

What did it matter to him if Blackstar was turning into a birdbrain? Surely it was better if ShadowClan were led by a senile old fool?

Leafpool was stirring beside him. “Did you dream of anything?” she whispered.

“No,” Jaypaw replied, still feeling out of sorts. “Nothing that matters.”

A fox screeched from deep in the forest. Hollypaw stirred in her nest as its bark echoed around the walls of the camp and crept into her dreams. “Not in the tunnels,” she murmured.

“What?” Lionpaw rolled over beside her, but Hollypaw didn’t answer. She had fallen back into sleep, slipping into the dream again.

A tunnel stretched away in front of her, disappearing into shadow. The dark river frothed and swirled at her tail.

Heavy paws padded down the tunnel toward her, claws scraping against the rock f loor. The stench of fox filled her nose. Her pelt pricked in terror as she saw a shape forming from the shadows, eyes glowing in the dark. Fox! She backed away, feeling the river tugging at her hind paws. The shape kept coming, eyes unblinking, until it emerged into the half-light.

It was Lionpaw.

She leaped up with a start as a paw touched her shoulder.

“Hollypaw?” Brackenfur was standing beside her nest. The den was in darkness, weak moonlight washing through the branches of the yew. “Are you okay?”

She was trembling, her pelt hot with panic. “It was just a dream.” Relief washed over her like a cool wind.

“Can’t you dream more quietly?” Lionpaw grumbled beside her. “I was out on the midnight patrol while you were snoring.” He rolled over and tucked his muzzle under his paw.

“It’s your turn now, Hollypaw,” Brackenfur meowed softly.

Foxpaw and Icepaw were fast asleep in their nests.

“Is it dawn?” Hollypaw asked, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Not for a while yet,” Brackenfur whispered. “We’re doing the predawn patrol.”

The extra patrols had drained the Clan and left its warriors and apprentices tired, but Firestar’s plan seemed to be working. There had been no sign of intruders or prey-stealing in days. Hollypaw stretched and followed her mentor out of the den. Her paws felt numb with sleep, and even the early-morning chill couldn’t chase away her weariness.

A sharp white moon lit the camp. Thornclaw sat in the clearing, holding his tail down with a paw while he washed the tip.

Sorreltail paced around him. “It’s too cold to sit still,” she complained.

“There’ll be more warm nights before greenleaf is gone,”

Brackenfur promised, padding up to the tortoiseshell and brushing his muzzle against hers.

“Is Hollypaw awake?” Thornclaw asked.

Hollypaw stepped from the shadows. “Almost.”

“Good.” The golden brown tabby got to his paws. “We can go.”

A small squeak sounded from inside the nursery. “Has the fox gone?” Rosekit mewed anxiously. “I heard it barking, and it sounded really close!”

“It’s far away in the forest, dear,” Daisy soothed. “Now go back to sleep.”

Hollypaw fell in behind Brackenfur as the patrol padded single file out into the forest. It was dark beneath the shelter of the trees, and Hollypaw stumbled over a root as they headed up the slope toward the WindClan border.

Brackenfur glanced back at her. “Are your paws still asleep?”

“I’ll wake up soon,” she promised.

They trekked to the border stream, slowing as they neared it. Sorreltail, leading the patrol, signaled with her tail for them to halt and lifted her nose to taste the air. “No fresh scents here.”

Thornclaw scrambled down the bank, and Hollypaw heard bushes rustle as he checked beneath them. He emerged with leaves caught in his pelt. “No signs there.”

Padding quietly through the trees, they followed the stream along the border. Brackenfur pushed through a clump of ferns, sliding out the other side with a shake of his head. “All clear.”

Thornclaw left a scent marker at the roots of an oak.

“We’ll follow the stream out of the trees,” Sorreltail decided. “Then we can reset our markers along the moorland border.” She led the way out of the forest and into moonshine.

The hillside glowed eerily white, and the silence of the moor and the forest set Hollypaw’s pelt prickling.

“It’s so quiet,” she murmured.

“Dawn’s coming,” Brackenfur meowed. “The birds will be waking soon.”

A breeze rustled the heather.

“Thornclaw, Brackenfur, you reset the markers,” Sorreltail ordered. “Hollypaw and I will scout around and check for any WindClan scents.” She nodded to Hollypaw. “Follow me.”

Hollypaw padded down the slope after the tortoiseshell, her sleep-clumsy paws slipping on the coarse grass. Sorreltail beckoned her onward with her tail, and Hollypaw weaved ahead through the heather while Sorreltail headed back up the slope. Sniffing her way from bush to bush, she followed the curving ground through a dip and up onto a shallow hill-ock. The borderline lay here, detectable more from recent ThunderClan markers than the stale WindClan scent. It was as if this border hardly mattered to WindClan anymore. They must have been too busy hunting in the forest.

Hollypaw gazed at the hillside beyond. The hill arched like the spine of a giant cat against the sky. It stretched to the horizon, creamy with the coming dawn. Cream gave way to yellow as the sun began to push against the darkness, driving back the night and staining the hilltop a soft pink.

As the sky lightened, Hollypaw noticed a shape silhouetted on the crest. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make it out. She could not gauge its size. But as the dawn light washed over the hilltop, she recognized the shape as feline, with a face that tapered at the muzzle, a long, smooth back, and a curving tail, bushed at the tip. There was something proud and magnifi-cent about the way it held its head; the large, wide-spaced ears prickled as it surveyed the lake below.

Hollypaw stiffened. “It’s a lion!”

“A lion?” Sorreltail dashed to join her. “Where?”