Warriors: Power Of Three 2 - Dark River (4 page)

“No,” he mewed quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!” His mew was tetchy.

Hollypaw felt a wave of sadness. They used to share everything, but now getting details out of her brother was like trying to pick fleas off a hedgehog. Unless they jumped out by themselves, there was no way she could reach them.

“Okay, okay! There’s no need to bite my head off!” She started plucking at the moss again.

Lionpaw padded past her. “I wasn’t biting your head off,”

he muttered. “But sometimes it’s nice to be able to do stuff without being asked so many questions!” He stalked out of the den, leaving Hollypaw alone.

She sighed and let the moss she was working on drop to the ground. Perhaps Jaypaw knew what was up with Lionpaw.

He always seemed to guess what she was thinking. Perhaps he could do the same with Lionpaw. She headed for the medicine den and pushed her way through the brambles.

Jaypaw was sorting through herbs at the back of the cleft in the rock wall. “I’m busy,” he mewed without looking up.

“Leafpool wants me to see what herbs we need before she gets back from the nursery.”

“Are the kits sick?” Hollypaw asked anxiously.

“Daisy has a cold,” Jaypaw replied. “Nothing serious, but with all this rain, Leafpool wants to treat it before it gets worse.”

“I wanted to talk to you about Lionpaw,” she ventured.

“Is he ill?”

“No.” Hollypaw sat down, wishing Jaypaw would stop messing around with the herbs and talk to her properly. “He’s just been so tired lately, and grumpy. Every time I talk to him he practically nips my whiskers off.”

“How should I know what’s wrong with him?” Jaypaw pushed a pile of dark green leaves together. Hollypaw tried to remember their name—she had, after all, trained as a medicine cat for a while—but she hadn’t a clue.

“It’s just that you usually know.”

“You share a den with him,” Jaypaw pointed out. “I’m stuck over here with Leafpool most of the time.” His voice prickled with resentment.

Hollypaw sat in silence for a moment. On top of worrying about Lionpaw, her dream about Willowpaw was still nagging at the back of her mind. But if Jaypaw wasn’t going to help her work out what was up with Lionpaw, there wasn’t much hope he would care what was bothering her RiverClan friend. And yet . . .

She decided to try coming at it sideways. Always a good hunting move when stalking tricky prey.

“Did you speak to Willowpaw at the Gathering?” she asked casually.

“Not much.”

“I think she’s worried you don’t like her.”

“Why do I have to like every cat I meet?” Jaypaw grumbled.

“Why do you have to dis like every cat you meet?” she shot back. “Willowpaw’s really nice. You don’t have to go out of your way to make her feel uncomfortable.”

“I don’t make her feel anything.” Jaypaw turned back to his herbs. “She feels what she wants to feel.”

“Didn’t you think she was feeling anxious at the Gathering?” Hollypaw decided to press on. “Didn’t you think the whole of RiverClan was acting oddly?”

Jaypaw turned from his herbs. “Perhaps.” His ears were pricked as if Hollypaw had finally said something that interested him.

“So I didn’t just imagine it?”

“Imagine what?”

“That something’s troubling RiverClan?”

“Do you think there is?” Jaypaw was leaning toward her now.

“I don’t know.” Hollypaw didn’t want to start a rumor that would make RiverClan look weak. It felt disloyal to her friend. And besides, it might not be true. “Do you?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Hollypaw felt a wave of frustration. This conversation was going in circles!

“But I might be able to find out something when we go to the Moonpool,” Jaypaw went on.

Of course! The medicine cats would be traveling together to the Moonpool at half-moon. That was only a few days away.

“If there is something worrying Willowpaw, will you tell me?”

Hollypaw asked.

Jaypaw narrowed his eyes. “Sure. I know how I’ll be able to find out.”

Hollypaw’s pelt began to prick with unease. “I’m not ask-ing you to spy or anything,” she mewed. “Just let me know if I’m right to worry. . . .”

“Okay.” Jaypaw shrugged and began pawing at another pile of herbs.

“Hollypaw!” Brackenfur was calling her from the clearing.

Feeling slightly relieved, she hurried out of the medicine den. A small patch of blue had opened in the clouds above the hollow.

“We may as well do some training in the forest while the rain holds off,” Brackenfur meowed. “Cloudtail’s taking Cinderpaw out to explore and I thought we could join them.

Get to know the territory a bit better.”

Cinderpaw came bouncing toward them, followed by Cloudtail and Birchfall.

“Firestar wants us to check out the old fox den,” Birchfall called. “Make sure those fox cubs haven’t returned.”

Hollypaw shivered. She still remembered the awful day when she and Jaypaw and Lionpaw had set out to chase the fox cubs from the den and had ended up being chased themselves. In his terror, Jaypaw had fallen over the side of the hollow and nearly died.

“Don’t worry, Hollypaw,” Cinderpaw whispered. “I’ll watch your tail.”

Hollypaw brushed gratefully against her friend as they padded out of the camp after the three warriors. “And I’ll watch yours.”

As they neared the narrow glade that sloped down to the den, Hollypaw sniffed the air. Her paws tingled. Fox!

“Young, female, but it’s stale,” Cinderpaw interpreted, nose twitching.

“How can you be sure?” Hollypaw asked in surprise. As far as she knew, Cinderpaw had never met a fox, and couldn’t know their scent well enough to distinguish all that.

Cinderpaw shrugged. “I just know,” she mewed.

“She’s right about it being stale,” Cloudtail meowed.

“There’s been no fox here since leaf-fall.”

Hollypaw glanced at her friend. Cinderpaw sometimes said or did things that suggested she knew more than she let on. But holding back secrets was not like Cinderpaw. The gray apprentice was usually three paw steps ahead of herself and would rather leap in, whiskers first, than stop and think.

Perhaps she had been here before and just forgotten.

Cloudtail was obviously wondering the same. “Have you been here with another patrol?”

Cinderpaw shook her head. “This is definitely the first time,” she mewed.

Cloudtail and Brackenfur exchanged glances, and Hollypaw guessed that they were as puzzled as she was.

An owl screeched far above the hollow, and Hollypaw rolled over in her nest, half-woken by the noise. She stretched her forepaws, feeling for the reassuring warmth of Lionpaw, and found emptiness.

She blinked open her eyes.

“Lionpaw?” she hissed under her breath.

No reply.

She reached farther into his nest, wondering if he had rolled to the far side but no, he was definitely gone.

“Are you looking for Lionpaw?” Poppypaw yawned from the other side of his nest. “He left the den a while ago.”

Hollypaw sat up, her heart racing. Lionpaw had gone missing once too often.

“Is something wrong?” Poppypaw’s eyes gleamed in the darkness.

“N-no.” Hollypaw didn’t want to arouse the suspicions of the other apprentices.

“Has Lionpaw gone to make dirt again?” Cinderpaw’s mew sounded behind her. “It must be that stale old thrush he ate.”

Hollypaw felt a wave of gratitude toward her friend. She was clearly covering for Lionpaw, stopping Poppypaw from answering any more awkward questions. The thrush had been perfectly healthy, caught fresh that day.

“I’ll go and check if he’s okay,” Hollypaw mewed.

She crept from the den and hurried as silently as she could around the edge of the slumbering camp, keeping to the shadows. Lionpaw’s scent led to the entrance, following the same furtive route. Let me find him making dirt, Hollypaw prayed.

Paw steps sounded behind her.

Hollypaw froze and glanced over her shoulder.

“It’s just me.” Cinderpaw’s mew sounded from the darkness, and the gray tabby stepped out of the shadows. “I thought you might want company.”

“Thanks.” If Lionpaw was really making dirt, there was no harm in Cinderpaw’s knowing, but if he wasn’t and, as Hollypaw feared, he was out in the forest, she would be pleased to have a friend with her.

One after the other, they squeezed through the small tunnel to the dirtplace.

“He’s not here,” Cinderpaw whispered.

Hollypaw sighed, her heart heavy. “No.”

“What do you think he’s up to?”

Hollypaw didn’t dare reply. She could guess why he might have left the camp under cover of night, but she didn’t want to believe it.

“His trail leads this way,” Cinderpaw announced, pointing with her nose up the lakeward slope.

Hollypaw’s belly tightened. The trail led up over the ridge and then around onto the moorland: WindClan territory. Perhaps he’s just exploring. Hope stirred in her chest, but beneath it, like a rock, lay the dark suspicion that he was meeting Heatherpaw.

“We’re going to follow him, aren’t we?” Cinderpaw was staring at Hollypaw, her eyes clouded with worry. Had she guessed, too? Surely not. How could she know?

“Perhaps it’s none of our business,” Hollypaw suggested feebly.

“Of course it’s our business! Our denmate is out there alone. What if something happened to him?”

“Is that the only reason you want to follow him—because he might be in danger?”

“No.” Cinderpaw sat down. “I think he may be doing something he will live to regret.”

Hollypaw was taken aback by her friend’s serious tone.

“Do you know something I don’t?” she asked.

Cinderpaw shook her head. “It’s just a feeling I have. I can’t explain it. A feeling that Lionpaw is making a mistake that’s been made before, that should never be made, that only leads to trouble. . . . ” Her mew died away but her eyes were shining with emotion.

“Okay.” Hollypaw could not ignore the strength of her friend’s feeling. Nor could she ignore her own. All her instincts told her that Lionpaw was breaking the warrior code, and it was her duty as a Clan cat to stop him. She charged up the slope, sniffing the twigs and brambles for Lionpaw’s scent, following the path he had taken to the top of the ridge. Cinderpaw bounded after her and they quickly reached the edge of the trees. The ground sloped away in front of them, down to the shore where the lake sparkled in the moonlight. Hollypaw scanned the distant moorland, half hoping to see Lionpaw, half hoping she wouldn’t. If Lionpaw was roaming around at night, she wanted it to be on ThunderClan territory.

There was no sign of movement in the shadowy heather.

Hollypaw plunged down the slope, following an old rabbit track through the coarsening grass. Underpaw the ground grew more peaty as they neared the WindClan border.

Heather bushes sprouted on either side of the track as the slope flattened and the sound of water lapping the shore grew louder.

“Did you hear that?” Cinderpaw’s hiss startled Hollypaw.

She pricked her ears. A small hollow, ringed by heather, lay in shadow ahead of them. From it came the sound of voices.

Hollypaw’s tail bristled as she recognized Lionpaw’s mew. He sounded happy; happier than she had heard him in days. She crept forward, keeping low, and ducked into the swath of heather that shielded the hollow. Setting the bushes rustling, she wriggled between the bare stems and peered over the top of the slope.

Her brother was charging after a ball of moss like an excited kit. He dived at it as it landed and, with a tremen-dous swipe, sent it flying back in the other direction. A lithe shape leaped up from the grass to catch it. Its tabby pelt glowed in the moonlight. Hollypaw’s heart sank like a rock.

Heatherpaw!

“You don’t seem surprised.” Cinderpaw had slid in beside her and was peering down into the grassy dip.

Hollypaw shook her head. “I’m not.” Reluctantly she wriggled out from the heather. “Lionpaw!” she called.

Lionpaw and Heatherpaw froze, staring at each other in alarm. The moss ball fell to the ground.

“What are you doing here?” Hollypaw demanded.

Slowly Lionpaw tore his gaze from Heatherpaw’s and turned to face his sister. His eyes sparked with defiance.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you!”

“Spying on me!”

Hollypaw flinched. “You shouldn’t be here, playing with her!” She glared at Heatherpaw.

“Why not? She’s just a friend.”

“A friend from another Clan!”

“You’re friends with Willowpaw!”

“I don’t sneak off every night to see her.”

Lionpaw opened his mouth to object, but no words came out. Hollypaw knew she had won the argument. But her brother’s eyes did not concede anything. They shone with rage. He turned to Heatherpaw. “I’d better go.”

Heatherpaw dipped her head. “I know,” she sighed.

Hollypaw clenched her teeth as Lionpaw brushed muzzles with the WindClan apprentice. Did he really believe it was just friendship that brought him here?

Lionpaw padded up the slope and glared at Cinderpaw.

“Did you have to tell the whole Clan?” he hissed at Hollypaw.

Cinderpaw flicked her tail. “I just came to make sure Hollypaw was safe,” she explained. “No one else knows.”

“And they won’t know,” Hollypaw added, “so long as you stay away from Heatherpaw.”

Lionpaw glared at her. “Is that a threat?”

Hollypaw backed away. She had never seen Lionpaw this angry. Even when they had quarreled as kits, there had always been a lighthearted twinkle in his eyes. But not now. His eyes were cold as stars.

“If you continue meeting Heatherpaw, I will have to tell Brambleclaw,” she insisted, trying not to let her voice tremble.

Lionpaw bristled.

“There’s a good reason why the warrior code forbids mix-ing with cats from other Clans,” Hollypaw went on. “How can you be loyal to your own Clan when your heart lies in another?”

“Are you accusing me of disloyalty?” Lionpaw flattened his ears.

“I know you’d never be disloyal,” Hollypaw mewed. “But you’re making it difficult for yourself. That’s why you must stop this.” It was hard enough having kin in another Clan without deliberately making friends outside the forest.