Warriors: Power Of Three 5 - Long Shadows (8 page)

Hollyleaf stifled a snort of bitter laughter. Sandstorm had no idea what responsibilities she had to cope with.

“Don’t forget what I said.” Sandstorm stroked her tail-tip gently over Hollyleaf ’s shoulder, then pushed her way out of the tunnel and headed for the dirtplace.

The morning light was growing stronger, though clouds still covered the sky and rain still hissed down into the clearing. Hollyleaf saw Graystripe bound across the clearing to Leafpool’s den, though he didn’t go farther than the bramble screen.

Checking on Millie, Hollyleaf guessed.

A couple of heartbeats after Graystripe, Ashfur emerged from the warriors’ den, closely followed by Cloudtail and Cinderheart. All three cats headed for the tunnel.

Ashfur gave Hollyleaf a nod as they approached, curiosity in his blue eyes. “You look frozen,” he meowed. “Do you want to come on the border patrol to warm up?”

“Sure!” She didn’t want to go back to the warriors’ den, and she knew Jaypaw wouldn’t plan anything about the fake sign without her.

Ashfur led the way out into the forest, making for the old Twoleg path. The rest of the patrol followed him, the rain muffling their paw steps. Cinderheart fell in beside Hollyleaf.

There was a hint of nervousness in her blue eyes. “I don’t like going this way,” she confessed. “It reminds me too much of the battle.”

Hollyleaf let out a murmur of agreement. Her memories disturbed her, too, especially when they came in sight of the abandoned Twoleg nest. The blood had been washed away from the stones, but it was easy to imagine that the stench still hung in the air, and the shrieks of battling cats still echoed from the crumbling walls. Hollyleaf ’s neck fur rose as she eyed the moss-covered walls and thick clumps of bracken, half expecting WindClan warriors to leap out at them.

“Stop!” Cloudtail’s command jerked her back to the present. The white warrior was standing with his tail raised to halt the rest of the patrol. “There’s something up ahead.”

“Can you tell what it is?” Ashfur asked softly. “WindClan?”

Cloudtail shook his head; his jaws gaped as he tasted the air.

Ashfur signaled with his tail for Hollyleaf and Cinderheart to fall back and let Cloudtail take the lead. Hollyleaf knew that the white tom was the best tracker in ThunderClan; he would soon find out what was waiting for them.

Cloudtail slunk along the edge of the Twoleg path, close to the rain-battered undergrowth, and slid under the overhang-ing stems to disguise his white pelt. Ashfur followed him, with Hollyleaf and Cinderheart in the rear. As she crept behind the senior warriors, Hollyleaf caught a trace of unfamiliar scent.

She stiffened, her pelt beginning to bristle, and exchanged an alarmed glance with Cinderheart.

ShadowClan!

Hollyleaf tried to convince herself that the scent was left behind from the battle, but she knew that it was fresh, and it grew stronger as she padded forward. Her belly churned.

Surely Sol wouldn’t have ordered ShadowClan to invade ThunderClan’s territory?

Wouldn’t he? Hollyleaf thought she could hear Jaypaw’s voice, drily sarcastic.

Cloudtail and Ashfur dropped into a crouch, ready to leap into battle; Hollyleaf and Cinderheart hastily copied them.

The rain had almost stopped, though the wind still blew spatters into Hollyleaf ’s face. She could hear sounds now, of cats pushing their way through the rain-soaked undergrowth, heading for the Twoleg path.

Then she heard a plaintive squeak. “Mother, that fern dripped water all the way down my neck!”

“Hush,” came the reply. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Tawnypelt! Flamepaw!” Hollyleaf bounded forward, ignoring Ashfur’s hiss of anger.

Fronds of bracken parted at the side of the path, and the ShadowClan she-cat pushed her way through. All three of her kits followed, shaking water from their pelts as they reached the open ground.

“It’s you!” Tawnypelt exclaimed in relief, touching noses with Hollyleaf. “Thank StarClan it’s some cat I know.”

Turning away, she dipped her head to Cloudtail and Ashfur.

“Greetings,” she meowed. “I’ve come to—”

“You’ve no right to be here,” Ashfur interrupted, the fur along his spine sticking straight up. “What do you want? Are you alone, or have you brought the rest of your Clan?”

“Hang on.” Cloudtail slapped his tail over the gray warrior’s mouth. “Let her get a word in edgewise.”

Tawnypelt blinked gratefully at Cloudtail. “I’ve brought my kits to ThunderClan.” Her voice was low, so that her kits couldn’t hear; all three of them were huddled together at the side of the path, staring around with huge eyes. “I don’t want to be part of a Clan that doesn’t listen to their warrior ancestors anymore.”

While she was speaking, Hollyleaf noticed how tired and hungry she looked. Her voice quivered; she was far from the tough, resourceful warrior Hollyleaf had known on their journey to the mountains.

“And what makes you think—” Ashfur began, still hostile.

“Try not to be more of a mouse-brain than you can help.”

Cloudtail spoke over him. “What have we got to be afraid of?

It’s only a queen and her kits.”

“We’re apprentices!” Flamepaw piped up indignantly.

Cloudtail twitched his ears. “Whatever. In any case, you can all come back to the camp. Firestar will be interested to hear about what’s going on in ShadowClan.” He shot a glance at Ashfur. “And it’s Firestar who’ll make the final decision.”

Fury still burned in Ashfur’s blue eyes. “All right,” he snapped. “We go back to camp. And if WindClan decides to cross the border because we didn’t finish our patrol, don’t blame me.”

He led the way back along the path, stalking ahead of Cloudtail and Tawnypelt. Cinderheart followed, while all three apprentices crowded around Hollyleaf.

“Hi, Hollypaw!” Tigerpaw mewed.

“I’m Hollyleaf now,” she told them.

“Wow, you’re a warrior!” Dawnpaw’s eyes stretched wide.

“Congratulations.”

“Hollyleaf! Hollyleaf!” Flamepaw called out, and his brother and sister joined in.

Cinderheart glanced back, blue eyes brimming with amusement. “It sounds as if you’ve got three new apprentices,” she murmured.

“Stop that,” Hollyleaf mewed. Every hair on her pelt felt hot with embarrassment. “I can’t move without tripping over you. We’ll get left behind.”

The young apprentices stopped squeaking and began trotting along beside Hollyleaf with their tails stuck straight up in the air.

“What’s that?” Dawnpaw asked, as they passed the abandoned nest.

“Twolegs used to live there,” Hollyleaf explained. “But they haven’t been there for a long time,” she added, as the three apprentices exchanged anxious glances. “Can you scent any Twolegs here?”

All three of them opened their little mouths to taste the air, then shook their heads solemnly. “Not a thing!” Tigerpaw announced.

“Well done,” Hollyleaf meowed, wondering if this was how it felt to be a mentor.

“Where is the rest of your Clan?” Flamepaw asked as they hurried to catch up to the other cats.

“In camp, mostly,” Hollyleaf replied. “We were the dawn patrol. There might be patrols out hunting by now, but it’s still pretty early.”

“Can we hunt?” Dawnpaw asked. “We’re starving!”

“Don’t be such a stupid furball,” Tigerpaw scolded her, flicking her ear with the tip of his tail. “You don’t hunt in another Clan’s territory.”

“Well, I asked,” Dawnpaw retorted.

“There’s no time to hunt now,” Hollyleaf replied, wondering how skillful the apprentices would be. They were still very young; they couldn’t have had much training. “I expect you’ll be able to eat when we get to camp.”

Flamepaw’s eyes gleamed. “Thank you!”

Looking at them more closely, Hollyleaf realized that Dawnpaw might have really meant it when she said they were starving. They were all very thin; every one of their ribs was visible through their pelts. Tawnypelt, too, looked thin and hollow, and her fur looked as if it hadn’t been groomed for a moon. Was there a problem with the prey in ShadowClan?

“Do you think Sol knows we’re here?” Tigerpaw asked as they veered off the Twoleg path toward the stone hollow.

Hollyleaf wasn’t sure what to answer. Sol had known all about her and her littermates, and he had known that the sun would vanish. But Jaypaw had told her that he’d found out a lot of things from Midnight. Could he possibly know where Tawnypelt and her kits were now? And would he be angry that they had left for another Clan?

“I don’t know what Sol knows,” she admitted. “Your mother didn’t tell him you were leaving?”

“No way!” Dawnpaw shuddered, her eyes wide with fear.

“He would never have let us go.”

Hollyleaf was saved from having to find a response, as they rounded a stand of hazel bushes to see the thorn barrier across the entrance to the camp. Brambleclaw was standing outside, tasting the air, his dark tabby fur still rumpled from sleep.

When the patrol came into sight he stared at Tawnypelt for a heartbeat, then bounded over to her and pressed his muzzle into his sister’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you,” he meowed. “Are you and your kits okay? How are things in ShadowClan?”

“Everything’s fine,” Tawnypelt replied with a cautious glance at Ashfur. “Prey is running well in ShadowClan territory.”

Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes and gave his sister a long look. Hollyleaf could see that he didn’t believe Tawnypelt was telling them everything. If there was plenty of prey, why did she and her kits look so thin? “You’d better come into camp,”

he mewed eventually. “I’ll tell Firestar you’re here.”

He led the way through the barrier. The three apprentices dived eagerly after their mother, but when they stepped into the clearing they hesitated, their fur bristling as they gazed around.

“It’s okay,” Hollyleaf reassured them. “Brambleclaw said you could come in, so no cat will hurt you.”

The three young cats relaxed a little; Tigerpaw’s eyes gleamed as he spotted the fresh-kill pile. “Can we have some?”

he asked Hollyleaf. “We’re so hungry!”

“You’d better ask Brambleclaw,” Hollyleaf replied.

Brambleclaw, who was talking to Tawnypelt a tail-length away, had heard the plaintive question. “Help yourselves,” he invited with a wave of his tail. “There’s plenty.”

Hollyleaf followed the three apprentices as they bounded across to the fresh-kill pile. “Don’t gulp your food or you’ll get bellyaches,” she warned them.

Flamepaw gave her a hasty nod and dived into the pile beside his brother and sister. They clawed away the soaking wet fresh-kill on top of the pile to find the drier, juicier pieces underneath, and crouched down to eat with purrs of enthu-siasm.

Taking a mouse for herself, Hollyleaf was just starting to eat when Lionblaze emerged from the warriors’ den, followed by Jaypaw. Both her littermates padded across the clearing toward her; their ears f licked up in surprise when they noticed the ShadowClan apprentices.

“What’s going on?” Jaypaw asked. Hollyleaf picked up the tang of herbs from his pelt; he must have been to see Thornclaw. “ShadowClan cats?”

“Hi, Lionblaze!” Dawnpaw mumbled around a mouthful of vole. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Lionblaze responded, surveying the scattered fresh-kill pile. “I can see you’re making yourselves at home.”

“Where’s our mother going?” Flamepaw asked as Tawnypelt padded past with Brambleclaw, heading for the Highledge.

“Brambleclaw is taking her to see Firestar,” Hollyleaf explained. “His den is up there on that ledge.”

“Right up there?” Tigerpaw exclaimed. “Cool!”

“But why are they here?” Jaypaw insisted, an edge to his voice.

Hollyleaf explained how the dawn patrol had met Tawnypelt and her kits in the forest, and brought them back to camp. “She said she didn’t want to be part of a Clan who didn’t look to their warrior ancestors anymore,” she finished.

Jaypaw said nothing, but looked thoughtful, his whiskers quivering as if he had scented prey. Hollyleaf guessed he was wondering how many more cats wanted to leave, and whether Tawnypelt and her kits would be any help in his plans to make a sign from StarClan.

More cats had begun to appear from the warriors’ den.

Dustpelt padded across to the fresh-kill pile, followed by Mousewhisker and Honeyfern. Foxpaw and Icepaw bounded across from the apprentices’ den.

“In StarClan’s name, what’s going on here?” Dustpelt asked, his lip curling. “What has happened to the fresh-kill pile? It looks as if a horde of badgers has trampled through it.”

“Er . . . we’ve got visitors,” Hollyleaf mewed.

Dustpelt’s tail shot straight up as he stared at the apprentices. “ShadowClan cats?” He let out an irritated sigh. “Have they left any dry prey?”

Tigerpaw spoke up. “We didn’t want to eat the soggy pieces.”

“No other cat wants to eat them, either,” Honeyfern pointed out, pawing through the remains of the pile to see if she could find a drier piece.

“And what are we supposed to do?” Icepaw demanded, flicking a sodden rabbit with her tail. “Mousefur will claw our ears off if we take her that!”

Hollyleaf turned to the three ShadowClan apprentices.

“That wasn’t a very polite thing to do, was it?”

All three young cats studied their paws, their tails drooping. “We’re sorry,” Flamepaw mumbled.

“Sol says we can only rely on ourselves to take the best care of us,” Dawnpaw explained. “He says we shouldn’t spend all our time thinking about fighting and marking the borders.

Then there’d be time for every cat to catch enough prey for themselves, and there wouldn’t be any problem.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze.

Where was the warrior code in the way of life Sol had imposed on ShadowClan?

“What about cats who can’t hunt for themselves?” she asked Dawnpaw.

The apprentice looked uncertain. “Well . . . we wouldn’t let any cat starve.”

You might not, but others would, if it kept them from going hungry, Hollyleaf thought. And you three look as if you’re pretty close to starving.

“Dawnpaw, you shouldn’t listen to that dumb ol’ patchy cat,” Tigerpaw declared, giving his sister a shove. “He won’t let us train to be warriors anymore. I want to fight for my Clan!”