Warriors: Power Of Three 1 - Sight (10 page)

Jaypaw turned to his mentor. “I’ve finished, then.”

Brightheart began bundling pawfuls of fresh moss into the den. “Good. Spread this out and then come with me,” she meowed. “I’m going to show you the territory around the camp.”

At last! Hollypaw and Lionpaw had been out for ages.

“Good luck!” Longtail called as Jaypaw followed Brightheart out of the den.

She led him out of the camp and up the steep slope that led lakeward. “This trail leads to the top of the ridge,”

Brightheart explained. “It’s steep.”

“Okay.” Jaypaw decided not to tell her that he could already feel the slope beneath his paws. He followed his mentor as she weaved through the trees, feeling the damp leaves slippery underpaw.

“Watch out!” Brightheart called, but Jaypaw could smell the bark ahead of him and swerved just in time to avoid the tree, his whiskers grazing the trunk.

“The trees are thick here, but there’s not too much undergrowth.”

“Oh.” Jaypaw breathed in the scent of a mouse trail as the ground began to flatten out.

“We’re at the top of the ridge now,” Brightheart told him.

“Follow my scent and I’ll lead you along the crest.”

“Right.” He could tell by the slope of the land that the forest fell away on either side; it felt as though they were climbing the spine of a great cat.

“If we go up this trail, we’ll be out of the trees soon.”

Jaypaw was beginning to feel out of breath, so he didn’t reply. He listened to the flies buzzing around him and shook his head when they tickled his ears.

“We’re out of the trees now, so don’t worry about bumping into anything,” Brightheart meowed. Jaypaw knew they had left the cover of the forest. A light, damp wind brushed his face.

“Stop here,” Brightheart meowed. But Jaypaw had already halted, feeling the land drop steeply away at his pawtips.

Scents flooded him—distant, strange smells he didn’t know yet—and he could hear water lapping far below. He knew that they were looking out over the forest and lake.

“We’ve followed the ridge out of the forest and right up to the end,” Brightheart explained. “The land slopes down steeply from here to the lake. RiverClan territory is across the water. Over where the sun sets is ShadowClan territory.

And if you look back toward where the sun rises you’ll be able to see—” She broke off abruptly.

For the first time that day, Jaypaw felt sorry for his mentor. She must have hoped that her first apprentice would be a healthy kit she wouldn’t have to make special allowances for.

If only she realized that he didn’t want any special allowances, that he didn’t need them.

“I might not be able to see what you see,” he told her, “but I can tell a lot from what I can hear and smell and feel.” He lifted his nose. “I know ShadowClan is over there, not just because the stench of them is strong enough to scare a rabbit, but because the tang of the pines tells me there can’t be much undergrowth, so the cats who hunt there must be cunning and good at stalking.” He turned his head. “And over there I can smell the moorland. The wind comes in a great unbroken sweep, undisturbed by trees. The WindClan cats who live there must be fast and small to hunt in such open country.”

Then he gazed at the lake in front of them. “I know RiverClan live across the lake, though I can’t smell their scent. It’s hidden by the scents from the lake, which are stronger today because of the wind. But I know that RiverClan will feel the coming rain first because the wind is driving the waves this way—I can hear them slapping against the shore.”

“You can tell all that without seeing it?”

“Yes, of course.”

Suddenly Brightheart stiffened. She was listening intently, ears pricked. “A patrol is coming,” she announced.

Jaypaw had heard it already. A ThunderClan patrol was climbing the ridge toward them, rustling though the bracken and heather. He knew from the scents that it was Dustpelt, Hazelpaw, Thornclaw, and Poppypaw, but he didn’t say so out loud. He was pleased he had impressed Brightheart with his description of what was around them, but he didn’t want her to think he was showing off.

“Hi!” Poppypaw bounded out from the bracken first.

Thornclaw followed with Dustpelt and Hazelpaw close on his heels. “You’re out of the camp at last!” Poppypaw mewed.

“Isn’t it great being an apprentice?” Hazelpaw added. “I still remember my first day. I was so excited!”

I bet your first day as an apprentice was more exciting than this.

“We’ve just done a border patrol,” Hazelpaw went on.

“And now we’re going to do battle training in the mossy clearing!” Poppypaw finished.

“Great,” Jaypaw muttered.

“You can come with us!” Poppypaw suggested suddenly. She turned to her mentor, Thornclaw. “He can come, can’t he?”

“Perhaps another day,” Brightheart meowed.

“We haven’t finished exploring our territory,” she explained, addressing Jaypaw as much as Poppypaw.

“Oh, okay,” Poppypaw mewed.

“Where are you heading now?” Thornclaw asked Brightheart.

“I’m going to show Jaypaw the old Thunderpath.”

Thornclaw paused. “You’ll be careful?” he cautioned.

“Don’t stray over the ShadowClan border.”

Jaypaw bristled. They might have only one eye between them, but they weren’t idiots! As he prepared to snarl a reply, Brightheart mewed sharply, “I know a border marker when I smell it!”

Jaypaw sensed a flash of reproach shoot from Dustpelt.

“Firestar trusted Brightheart with Jaypaw,” he reminded Thornclaw quietly.

Thornclaw’s paws rustled on the leafy forest floor. “Of course,” he acknowledged. “Sorry, Brightheart.”

Brightheart met his apology with stony silence, and Jaypaw felt a prick of satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one who felt patronized by the other warriors.

“There’s a steep slope ahead of us,” Brightheart warned as they set off.

You don’t say! Jaypaw bit back the sharp reply, feeling the curve of the ground under his paws.

“Can you manage it?”

“Of course I can.” Angrily Jaypaw stepped forward. To his surprise, the ground dropped away much more steeply than he expected, and he half fell, half skidded down the muddy slope, scrabbling to slow his descent until a clump of heather slowed it for him.

“Are you okay?” Brightheart panted, catching up with him.

Jaypaw struggled out of the heather, then gave his chest a couple of brisk licks. “I’m fine,” he mewed.

“That was quite a tumble. We can rest if you want,”

Brightheart offered.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Jaypaw hissed. He shook the last scraps of heather from his pelt. “Which way now?”

He could feel Brightheart looking closely at him, but she didn’t say anything else about his fall. “Come on,” she meowed. “We can head around to the old Thunderpath from here.”

Jaypaw padded after her, furious with himself for losing his footing so easily just when Brightheart seemed to be treating him like a normal apprentice.

The wind had picked up by the time they reached the old Thunderpath. Jaypaw smelled rain on its way.

“We’ll head back to the camp from here,” Brightheart told him when they reached the gap in the trees where Twolegs had once cut a path, now overgrown and deserted.

“But there must be more ThunderClan territory than this!” Jaypaw objected.

“Too much to explore today,” Brightheart meowed.

Crossly Jaypaw turned away from the Thunderpath and followed Brightheart back into the trees. He didn’t believe that they couldn’t circle the whole territory in one day.

Brightheart obviously thought he wouldn’t be able to cope with a long day out of the camp.

They padded through the trees. Rain was beginning to fall, spattering on the leaves above them. Jaypaw looked up just as a raindrop found its way through the canopy and splashed onto his nose. He shivered and shook off the wetness.

Perhaps it was not so bad that they were going back to the hollow. The rain was cold, and the wind that carried it over the lake even colder. He heard Brightheart’s step quicken and guessed she must be feeling the same way.

Then he stiffened.

There was another scent on the breeze, sharper than the rain and the leaves. Memories flooded him of his terrifying dash through the forest. Fox! Another sniff showed it was the same fox that had chased him over the edge of the hollow, with the scent of earth and bracken in its pelt. And it was close. Jaypaw dropped into a defensive crouch and opened his mouth to warn Brightheart, but her fear-scent told him that she had smelled the creature already.

“We must find Thornclaw’s patrol!” she hissed.

Jaypaw sniffed the air, searching for a scent-trace of the patrol. It would tell them which way to run. With relief, he picked up a faint smell of Thornclaw, but it was too late. The bracken up ahead rustled, and the fox hurled itself out and charged toward them. Jaypaw’s heart almost burst with fear.

The fox cub’s paws pounded on the forest floor; its stench was stronger and its snarl was deeper than he remembered.

The fox had grown since their last encounter.

“Run!” Brightheart ordered, throwing herself between the fox and Jaypaw.

“I won’t leave you!” Jaypaw yowled. “I can fight!”

He heard the clack of teeth as the fox snapped at Brightheart. She hissed, her paws skidding as she dodged.

The fox’s pained screech told Jaypaw that she had caught it with a claw as it had lunged past.

A rush of air tugged his fur as the fox darted past him. He twisted, claws unsheathed, and prepared to lunge forward. The fox was scrabbling to turn on the slippery leaves for another attack. Jaypaw leaped, spitting, but something tugged him back.

His tail was caught in a bramble bush! He collapsed on the ground, dragged back by the thorns. A heavy paw landed on his back, knocking the wind from him. The fox had thundered straight over him, heading once more for Brightheart.

The one-eyed warrior screeched, anger and fear com-bined, and Jaypaw froze with terror.

Then he heard Thornclaw’s yowl only rabbit-lengths away.

The patrol had come!

The air filled with the battle cries as warriors and apprentices streamed into the clearing, ears flattened and claws unsheathed. The fox let out an angry yelp and raced into the trees, with Dustpelt and Hazelpaw pounding after it.

Jaypaw struggled to his paws, yanking his tail to unsnag it from the bramble bush.

“Jaypaw!” Poppypaw was at his side. “Are you okay?”

He wrenched his tail free with the sound of ripping fur.

“I’m fine!” he snapped.

“Did the fox hurt you?” Brightheart called.

Jaypaw was relieved to hear his mentor. He smelled no blood on her, and her voice was strong. The fox had not wounded her.

“Don’t tell me you tried to fight the fox?” Thornclaw demanded. “You should have run for help!”

“I couldn’t leave Brightheart alone with it,” Jaypaw objected.

“I thought you would have learned by now that you’re no match for a fox!” Thornclaw growled. Jaypaw curled his lip but said nothing.

“Is your tail okay?” Poppypaw asked sympathetically.

Jaypaw lashed it over the leaf-covered ground, ignoring the pain of the thorns still stuck in it. “It’s fine,” he muttered.

The whole patrol must have seen him struggling like a helpless kit, defeated by a bramble bush. A hot wave of embarrassment washed over him from nose to tail.

“Will Dustpelt and Hazelpaw be all right?” he asked.

“They’ll chase the fox away from the camp,” Thornclaw told him. “I don’t think it’ll turn on them. Not after the fright we gave it.”

“We should get Brightheart and Jaypaw back to camp and send a patrol after them,” Poppypaw suggested.

“Good idea,” Thornclaw agreed.

The rain eased as dusk began to chill the air. Jaypaw lay pressed into the same sheltered clump of grass where Brightheart had taken him that morning. He had wanted to be alone, and the thorny wall of the warriors’ den hid him from the rest of the camp. But now Lionpaw had returned with Ashfur; he could hear them in the center of the clearing.

“Where’s Jaypaw?” Lionpaw sounded worried.

Hollypaw answered from outside the medicine cat’s den.

“I haven’t seen him, but Brightheart’s back. He must be in the camp.”

“Shall we ask her where he is?”

Jaypaw didn’t want Brightheart to tell them what an idiot he had made of himself today. He slipped out and headed Hollypaw and Lionpaw off at the fresh-kill pile.

“There you are!” Hollypaw called.

“Hi,” Jaypaw muttered. He padded past them and pulled a mouse from the top of the pile.

Hollypaw followed him and picked up a sparrow. She dropped it on the ground next to Jaypaw while Lionpaw rooted among the prey until he found the fresh-smelling body of a vole. “I caught this myself!” he announced proudly, tossing it onto the ground beside Hollypaw.

“You caught prey on your first day?” Hollypaw sounded impressed.

“Well,” Lionpaw admitted, “Ashfur spotted it and showed me how to stalk it.”

“He probably held it down for you to finish off,” Jaypaw growled.

There was a moment’s silence; then Hollypaw brushed her tail over Jaypaw’s pelt. “I heard you ran into trouble,” she mewed. “It could have happened to any cat.”

Jaypaw shrugged away her tail. “But it happened to me,” he growled.

“It’s only your first day,” Lionpaw reminded him.

Yes, and you caught a vole on your first day, didn’t you?

Hollypaw sniffed at the thorns in Jaypaw’s tail and plucked at one with her teeth.

“I can do that myself,” Jaypaw hissed, flicking his tail away from her.

“Do you want some herbs?” she offered. “I know which ones will soothe the pain and stop infection.” There was pride in her mew.

“No need.” Jaypaw took a bite of mouse, but it felt dry and tasteless. He nudged the mouse over to Lionpaw with his muzzle. “Here, you finish it. I’m not hungry.”

“Wait . . .” Lionpaw began. But Jaypaw padded gloomily away.

He headed toward the apprentices’ den, which was underneath a bushy yew tree growing close to the wall of the hollow. It took him a moment to figure out where the entrance was, and when he had, he nosed his way in cautiously. The unfamiliar scents confused him—moss rich with the smell of different apprentices, the strong tang of yew sap. He had no idea what lay around him or where he should lie down.