Read Warriors: Power Of Three 4 - Eclipse Online
Authors: Erin Hunter
Yes! She’d caught him in the belly and sent him lurching backward. Leaping onto her paws, she ducked forward and sank her teeth into his hind leg.
“Well done.” Brackenfur was beside her. He reared up and slammed Weaselfur to the ground. Hollypaw lunged again, tasting blood as she sank her teeth into his other hind leg.
The WindClan warrior yowled in agony and streaked away into the shadows.
Hollypaw reared up to scan the battle.
Thornclaw was fighting off two WindClan cats. As he batted one away, the other dived in low, nipping at his legs.
Cloudtail’s white fur glowed in front of the Twoleg nest.
WindClan warriors surrounded him. His pelt is giving him away!
Beside her, Mousewhisker suddenly shrieked. Emberfoot had pinned him to the ground. Mousewhisker was flailing desperately, half-blinded by the scratch to his eye.
“I’ll help him,” Brackenfur hissed. “You help Cloudtail.”
Hollypaw pelted forward, but Brambleclaw was already beside the white warrior. The ThunderClan deputy dragged two WindClan cats from Cloudtail’s back and flung them away like dead leaves. His eyes sparked as he spotted Hollypaw.
“We’re outnumbered,” he hissed. “You’ll have to ask Blackstar for help!”
“Me?” Hollypaw gasped. How could she persuade the ShadowClan leader to fight on behalf of ThunderClan?
“Just do it!” Brambleclaw yowled. “Blackstar would rather have us on their borders than this fox-hearted bunch!”
The two WindClan warriors had scrambled to their paws and were diving back for revenge. Before Brambleclaw disappeared beneath a fury of bristling pelts, he glanced at her. “Go!”
She turned and f led. Fear pulsed in her blood. How would she make it through ShadowClan territory alone? My Clanmates need help. The thought gave her courage. And her black pelt would hide her.
She slid through the shadows along the Twoleg path, veering into the woods when she scented the ShadowClan border.
She had never been this way. How will I find their camp?
Sniffing, she scented her way along, feeling the forest floor change underfoot from broad, slippery leaves to prickly needles. The undergrowth grew sparse around her, the trunks thin and smooth as the territory passed from lush woodland to pine forest. Strong ShadowClan scents made the fur along her spine prickle. She must be crossing the border. Ducking low, she thanked StarClan for the darkness. She didn’t want to be caught by a suspicious patrol; she wanted to get right into the camp to speak directly to Blackstar. She weaved through the woods, staying close to the trees, praying that their shadows would be enough to hide her.
Where’s the camp? Her heart pounded harder. She tasted the air. ShadowClan scent flooded her mouth. Hope fluttered in her belly as she ducked to sniff at the forest floor. A trail!
Countless ShadowClan paws had passed here. It must lead to the camp!
She followed the scent trail on trembling paws and, glancing up, saw a shadow looming ahead. A swath of brambles blocked the path. Could this be the camp? She slowed, pricking her ears. She could hear muffled mewing. A kit cried and the bramble leaves rustled.
This must be the camp.
She padded closer, skirting the brambles, wondering how she could find the entrance.
“Who’s there?” A snarl startled her. She blinked into the gloom as pine needles shifted ahead of her. A cat blocked her path. It was Ivytail; Hollypaw recognized her white-and-tortoiseshell pelt from Gatherings.
Breathing hard, she tried to explain. “I’m Hollypaw of ThunderClan,” she mewed. “Brambleclaw sent me. I must talk with Blackstar.”
Ivytail approached cautiously, whiskers twitching as she sniffed at Hollypaw. She scanned the forest. “Where’s the rest of your patrol?”
“There’s only me.” Hollypaw spotted a gap in the wall of brambles. The entrance? Was Ivytail guarding it?
“No warriors would send an apprentice into enemy territory alone,” Ivytail growled.
Hollypaw dug her claws into the needle-strewn ground. “I must talk to Blackstar,” she repeated. My Clanmates are being torn to shreds.
“Are you planning to distract him while your Clanmates attack?” Ivytail sneered. “How stupid do you think we are?”
Hollypaw’s patience snapped. She shouldered past the ShadowClan warrior and darted for the gap in the brambles.
Ivytail raced after her as she tore through the tunnel and burst into the ShadowClan camp.
“What in the name of StarClan . . . ?” A large tabby tom spun around to face Hollypaw as she skidded to a halt in the clearing.
“Where’s Blackstar?” she demanded.
The tom bristled, his eyes round with surprise.
“Hollypaw!” A familiar voice sounded beside her.
Hollypaw turned, relieved to see Tawnypelt. “You’ve got to help me!” Her mew was choked with desperation.
“Slow down,” Tawnypelt soothed.
“There’s no time to slow down,” Hollypaw panted. “WindClan are attacking, and Brambleclaw’s patrol is outnumbered.
He sent me to get help!”
Tawnypelt stiffened. “Come with me.” She led Hollypaw across the clearing and beckoned her to follow her through a gap in the brambles. Inside, Hollypaw blinked, trying to see in the gloom.
“Blackstar.” Tawnypelt addressed a shadow at the back of the den. “ThunderClan need our help.” She brushed Hollypaw’s flank with her tail and Hollypaw guessed she was inviting her to speak.
“Blackstar.” She dipped her head low. “I’m sorry for breaking into your camp, but it’s a matter of life and death. WindClan have invaded our territory. They’re all over our forest, and we’re outnumbered. You have to help us or they’ll drive us away.”
Blackstar stepped from the shadows, his eyes wide with worry. “Fetch Russetfur,” he whispered to Tawnypelt.
The ShadowClan she-cat slipped from the den, leaving Hollypaw alone with Blackstar.
“How many WindClan warriors?” he asked.
“It seems like all of them, except the elders and kits.”
“Where are they?”
“Brambleclaw’s fighting a patrol at the abandoned Twoleg nest.” Hollypaw tried to stop her voice from shaking. “Firestar followed some to the border, and Dustpelt went to follow another patrol by the lake.”
A voice sounded at the entrance. “It sounds like a well-planned invasion.” Russetfur slid into the den, Tawnypelt at her side.
Hollypaw turned to face the ShadowClan deputy. “It is.
We were totally unprepared.”
Russetfur’s whiskers twitched. “ThunderClan caught off guard, eh?” Was that amusement in her mew?
Hollypaw bristled with rage. “My Clanmates might be dying while you talk!”
Russetfur blinked. “Yes.” She sat down beside her leader.
“This is serious. We can’t let one Clan be driven out.”
Hollypaw stared at Blackstar. Wasn’t he going to say anything?
Russetfur went on. “There have always been four Clans.
Onestar seems to have forgotten that. We will all be more vulnerable if one disappears.” She narrowed her eyes. “But should ShadowClan risk its warriors to fight ThunderClan’s battle?”
Yes! Hollypaw stared at Blackstar. Oh, please say yes!
Blackstar stood up. “We will come.”
Relief flooded Hollypaw.
“Russetfur will organize the patrol.”
Don’t be long! Hollypaw longed to beg him to hurry, but Tawnypelt brushed her lips with the tip of her tail. “I’ll go with Hollypaw now,” she suggested, “and give what help I can till the others arrive.”
Blackstar narrowed his eyes. Did he suspect that Tawnypelt was just worried about her brother, Brambleclaw, and her former Clanmates?
Who cares? Let’s just go!
Blackstar nodded. “Very well.”
Tawnypelt dipped her head and backed out of the den.
“Thank you so much!” Hollypaw burst out before scooting after the she-cat. She almost tripped over the kits tumbling around Tawnypelt’s paws just outside Blackstar’s den.
“Dawnkit, Flamekit, stay out of the way!” Tawnypelt scolded.
A third kit stomped up and down in front of her. “We want to go to the battle!” he squeaked.
“Tigerkit! Have you been eavesdropping again?” Tawnypelt glared at her dark tabby kit, but it was easy to see the fondness in her gaze.
Hollypaw felt a purr rumble in her throat at the sight of their short, fluffy tails.
“Sorry about my kits,” Tawnypelt apologized. “They can’t wait to become warriors.”
“I remember feeling just the same way,” Hollypaw mewed.
Tawnypelt hustled the kits toward a yew bush. A white queen waited at the entrance.
“Look after them, Snowbird,” Tawnypelt meowed as the queen swished them into the den with her tail. “Make sure they don’t leave camp.”
Snowbird nodded. “I know all their tricks,” she promised.
“Bye, Tawnypelt!” Dawnkit’s mew was muff led by Snowbird’s fur.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Tawnypelt promised. She glanced at Hollypaw and added under her breath, “StarClan willing.”
She darted out of the camp like a shadow. Hollypaw paused, glancing up at the sky. The clouds were thinning, scudding across the moon. “StarClan help us!” she whispered.
Tawnypelt was waiting outside the camp. “Follow me.”
She led Hollypaw through the woods and into a sloping field. A stream cut through it. This was the land ThunderClan had given to ShadowClan moons ago. Twolegs lived here in strange, flapping nests, but only in greenleaf.
“Keep low,” Tawnypelt warned. She ducked and streaked across the grass, leaping the stream where it narrowed near the top of the field. A few Twoleg nests rustled in the breeze, but there was no sign of life apart from a gentle growling from inside.
They were in the ThunderClan forest within heartbeats.
Tawnypelt clearly knew the territory well. She headed straight for the Twoleg path and followed it, her paws almost silent on the stone.
Hollypaw pricked her ears, suddenly terrified. Had she been gone too long? Had WindClan chased off her Clanmates already?
A screech told her that the battle still raged. Tawnypelt began to run, and Hollypaw hared after her. The Twoleg nest loomed ahead of them, yowls splitting the air. Cloudtail’s white pelt was stained and ragged as he struggled with the shadowy shapes of two WindClan warriors. Brackenfur screeched in fury as he threw a tabby tom from his back.
Brambleclaw and Mousewhisker fought side by side, driving a line of WindClan cats back against the stone side of the Twoleg nest. With a battle cry, Tawnypelt flung herself into the fray.
Hollypaw stared. Would this battle never end? Unsheathing her claws, she raced to defend her Clanmates.
“I can’t stand hearing it and doing nothing.” Ferncloud crouched in the clearing beside Jaypaw. Distant wails and screeches echoed from the forest.
“We need you here in case the camp is attacked again,” Jaypaw pointed out.
“Waiting is worse than fighting,” Ferncloud growled.
“Concentrate on noises inside the camp.”
“What noises?” Ferncloud stiffened beside him as she strained to listen. Couldn’t she hear the murmuring and shuffling from inside Firestar’s den?
Longtail and Mousefur were sheltering there with Millie, Daisy, and the kits. From the sound of it, they were having trouble finding room.
“Where am I supposed to sit?” Longtail complained.
“Just stay where you are,” Mousefur croaked. “If you move, you might tread on another kit.”
Another bout of mewling started, followed by Millie’s soothing mew. “It’s all right, little ones. Isn’t it fun to be in the leader’s den?”
“I want to be outside fighting!” Toadkit squeaked. “Not stuck in this hole.”
“You’ll turn your mother’s fur white with talk like that,”
Mousefur scolded. “You’re too young to fight. Stop complain-ing and make yourself useful, like Rosekit.”
Rosekit was mewling softly to the younger kits, helping to quiet them.
“Do you think they’ll attack the camp again?” Daisy fretted.
“Whatever happens, no cat’s going to harm our kits,” Millie growled. But Jaypaw could hear fear in her mew. There was nothing she could do to help her Clanmates fighting out in the forest.
Graystripe, Whitewing, and Icepaw paced outside the barrier, guarding the entrance. They were too busy listening for danger to speak. Icepaw’s fur scuffed against the forest floor from time to time, and her paws scrabbled on the fallen leaves.
She must be practicing battle moves.
Inside the hollow, Brightheart restlessly circled the camp.
Occasionally she stopped, and Jaypaw guessed she was scanning the ledges along the steep rock walls in case any WindClan warriors were trying to sneak down in a stealth attack. Jaypaw trusted her senses; her one eye made her hearing and sense of smell almost as good as his own. No cat could steal past her. And even if they did, Cinderpaw was prowling the clearing, every hair on her pelt bristling.
“Are you sure your leg’s okay?” Jaypaw was worried she’d been pacing on it too long.
“It’s much stronger with all the swimming,” Cinderpaw promised.
“Just rest awhile,” Jaypaw advised.
“I’ll rest on Highledge.”
Jaypaw wondered whether to stop her from struggling up the tumble of rocks, but there was such determination in her voice that it seemed pointless to argue. Leafpool’s memory of the badger flashed in his mind, part of his own memories now—black-and-white fur crashing through bramble walls, snapping jaws, the stench of blood, kits mewling in terror.
Cinderpelt had died to protect them. Was Cinderpaw’s mind echoing with that memory now? If it was, then nothing he could say would stop her from guarding the kits.
He listened to her scrabbling up to Highledge, praying her leg wouldn’t slip on the loose rocks, relieved when she mounted the ledge and settled at the mouth of Firestar’s cave.
Leafpool was in her den, sifting through leaves and sorting herbs. Jaypaw could smell their pungent aromas mingle as she mixed poultices and ointments, ready for the wounded.
“We’ve got everything covered,” Jaypaw comforted Ferncloud. “ThunderClan won’t be taken as easily as Onestar thinks.”
Ferncloud shifted on her paws. “Now tell me what you really think.”