Warriors: Power Of Three 4 - Eclipse (21 page)

Jaypaw felt a wave of despair break over him. How could they possibly fight three Clans? Had StarClan given up on them entirely? He stumbled back into the ferns. There was nothing he could do now to save his Clan.

Fur brushed his pelt. Tawnypelt was beside him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Jaypaw lashed out with a forepaw, aiming for her muzzle, rage burning in his belly. “How can you attack your own kin?”

She blocked his blow with her paw. “We’ve come to help,”

she hissed. “Hollypaw fetched us!” She shoved him farther back into the ferns. “Get back to the hollow and stay out of trouble!”

“What about Hollypaw?”

“Snaketail and Scorchpaw will help her.”

Jaypaw tasted the air. Two ShadowClan warriors were fighting alongside Hollypaw now, their scents mingling with the tang of fish-foul blood spraying from her RiverClan attacker. Her paws scrabbled against the path as she leaped forward and, with a yowl of rage and pain, the RiverClan cat pounded away into the forest.

“Go now!” Tawnypelt urged. She turned to head back into the fight, but Jaypaw pressed his paw to her flank.

“Firestar’s outnumbered by the WindClan border, and Dustpelt’s struggling beside the lake.”

“I’ll send warriors to help them,” Tawnypelt promised.

The ferns rustled as she hesitated. “Wait,” she hissed. “Take Mousewhisker with you. His eye’s hurt.” She leaped away and returned a moment later with the young warrior.

“I want to stay and fight,” Mousewhisker was protesting.

“Not with that eye,” Tawnypelt told him.

“I can see out of the other.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Jaypaw smelled blood. “You can come back when I’ve cleaned it up, and fight even better,” he promised.

Mousewhisker hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. “But we have to be quick.”

Tawnypelt plunged back into battle.

“Come on,” Mousewhisker prompted.

Side by side, they ran along the edge of the Twoleg path, back toward camp. Mousewhisker pressed against him, steering him through the undergrowth spilling from the edge of the forest. Jaypaw’s head was full of the sounds of horror and spilling blood. The whole forest seemed alive with wailing and clawing and the ripping of fur.

All four Clans were fighting, and StarClan had told him nothing.

Lionpaw lunged at the last RiverClan warrior. The other three had fled wailing into the forest already, but this one was cornered, backed up against a bramble so tangled that even a ThunderClan cat would think twice about trying to escape through it.

Mosspelt. Lionpaw recognized the blue-eyed tortoiseshell from Gatherings. But this wasn’t a Gathering, and he was going to make her sorry she’d ever set paw on his land.

She crouched, trembling, in front of him as he padded toward her, rage darkening his vision until all he could see was her round, frightened eyes.

“Lionpaw!” Firestar’s sharp mew made him freeze.

Mosspelt darted past him and disappeared into the trees.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Lionpaw turned on his leader. “I could have finished her off.”

Wariness glittered in Firestar’s eyes. “I think she knew she was beaten.”

Lionpaw glanced down at his fur, clumped with blood, some fresh, some drying. What had he done? In the heat of battle he wasn’t always sure how he fought. He simply smelled blood and felt flesh tear beneath his claws.

“What about WindClan?” Lionpaw wondered if the rest of the invaders had been beaten yet.

“We’ve just seen the last one back over the border,” Firestar told him.

Ashfur and Berrynose slid from the undergrowth, Spiderleg and Poppyfrost beside them. Ashfur was sticky with blood.

One of Berrynose’s ears was shredded at the tip. Spiderleg was limping badly, and Poppyfrost, ruffled and bleeding, was round eyed with shock.

“What about the other patrols?” Lionpaw insisted. “We should go help them now that we’ve finished here.”

Firestar flicked his tail. “Spiderleg’s got a bad belly wound.

We need to get him back to camp before we check the rest of the territory.”

Spiderleg was lying down, f lanks heaving and blood oozing onto the forest floor. Ashfur dug his nose under his denmate’s shoulder and pushed him to his paws. “Come on,” he encouraged. “We’ll get you back to Leafpool.” Berrynose pressed against Spiderleg’s other flank, and, between them, the two warriors began to half guide, half carry their injured Clanmate back toward the hollow.

“I’ll go see if I can help the other patrols while you take Spiderleg back.” Lionpaw wasn’t ready to return home. He could hear the other battles raging in the distance. He ought to be there, fighting.

“I can’t let you go into the forest alone,” Firestar told him.

Was that fear in his eyes?

Frustrated, Lionpaw joined his Clanmates as they headed for home. He tried to hurry them on by padding ahead, but Firestar kept calling him back. Spiderleg was panting, groan-ing with each step. Hurry up!

At last they headed down the slope toward the thorn barrier. Lionpaw halted at the entrance to let Ashfur and Berrynose help Spiderleg through. Firestar followed them in, but Lionpaw hesitated. He could hear rustling in the bushes behind him.

He stared in surprise. “Jaypaw?” His brother was trotting out of the trees with Mousewhisker.

“Are you okay?” Jaypaw called. His nose was twitching. “I can smell blood.”

Lionpaw shrugged. “It’s not mine.”

Mousewhisker’s eye was closed and swollen to the size of an apple.

“Is he okay?” Lionpaw asked.

“The cut just needs cleaning,” Jaypaw told him.

“Apart from a few scratches, it’s my only injury,” Mousewhisker meowed proudly. Jaypaw guided the injured warrior into camp, and Lionpaw trailed after them. His claws itched to be fighting again.

“R iverClan have come to help WindClan,” Jaypaw was reporting to Firestar. “But Blackstar has sent some cats to help us.”

Surprise lit Firestar’s eyes. “Blackstar’s helping us?”

“He sent a whole patrol.”

Firestar drew in a deep breath. “Then all four Clans are fighting on our territory.”

Jaypaw nodded.

“You’d better help Leafpool treat the injured.”

Leafpool was already crouching over Spiderleg, pressing leaves to his belly to stanch the bleeding.

Firestar turned back to the entrance, signaling to his patrol with his tail.

At last! Lionpaw flexed his claws and followed his leader through the barrier, refusing to step aside when he felt Ashfur pressing on his heels.

His mentor slid past him as they emerged from the tunnel.

“You should clean yourself up,” he meowed, glancing at Lionpaw’s sticky pelt.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that after the battle,” Lionpaw replied.

Ashfur veered away from the patrol, shadowing its flank, his dark pelt rippling as he slid through the undergrowth. The sun was up now, rising above the trees into a pale, empty sky.

Ashfur paused, pricking his ears, and Firestar signaled for the rest of the patrol to halt.

“Cats approaching from WindClan’s direction,” Ashfur hissed.

Lionpaw tasted the air.

WindClan.

A whole patrol.

He stiffened, tasting the air again to be sure.

Heatherpaw!

He bolted toward the approaching patrol, ignoring Firestar’s cry for him to stop. As he darted like a bird through the undergrowth, his paws skimmed the ground. The sunlight glittered golden through the trees, making it easy to spot the WindClan patrol slinking like weasels through the forest.

They were heading for the lake, hoping to finish off Dustpelt’s patrol, no doubt.

Lionpaw could hear his Clanmates’ paws thrumming after him. They exploded from the bushes around him as he reached the WindClan cats.

The enemy patrol scattered in panic, but not quickly enough. Ashfur knocked a brown tabby warrior to the ground, while Firestar flung himself at a black tom. Lionpaw charged through two WindClan apprentices, shoving them aside. Behind them Heatherpaw reared up on her hind legs, her blue eyes wide with shock. Lionpaw lunged at her and grasped her scruff between his teeth. She struggled, wailing, as he dragged her through a wall of ferns and flung her to the ground in the small clearing beyond. Enclosed in the pale green cave, he pinned her down, letting his paws prick her skin.

“You told them about the tunnels!” he hissed. “I can’t believe you betrayed me. I thought I could trust you to keep your mouth shut.”

“It wasn’t me!”

Rage surged beneath his pelt. “So why is my forest filled with your Clan?”

Heatherpaw struggled to escape from his grasp, twisting and biting him hard on the foreleg.

“I don’t lie,” she growled. “It wasn’t me! It was Sedgekit!”

“Why would he do that?” Lionpaw couldn’t believe it. “I saved his life!”

“He was boasting to Weaselfur about the tunnels he found, and then every cat in the Clan knew.”

Lionpaw stared down at her, stif ling the urge to shred her fur. “I don’t believe you,” he breathed. “You’ve never forgiven me for wanting to be a loyal Clan warrior.” He leaned closer and dug in his claws as she tried to wriggle away from his hot breath. “I’ll never forget this, Heatherpaw. I will be your enemy forever.”

He released her and turned away, swishing through the ferns with his paws trembling with rage. Had he really loved her once? He had been a different cat then. Now he was one of the three, and he walked a path Heatherpaw couldn’t even dream of.

Green eyes flashed in front of him. “Where’s Heatherpaw?” Crowfeather was blocking his path.

“Get out of my way!”

The WindClan warrior peered past Lionpaw. “What have you done with her?”

“Get out of my way! ” Lionpaw lunged at Crowfeather. Hooking his claws into the dark gray warrior’s neck, he flung him through the ferns and thumped him onto the ground. Still gripping his throat, he leaped on top, tearing at his flesh in a frenzy.

Suddenly teeth sank into Lionpaw’s shoulder and claws dug into his flank.

Heatherpaw was dragging him off. “Stop it!” she shrieked.

“What are you doing?”

Startled by the terror in her voice, Lionpaw froze. Crowfeather lay among the green ferns by his forepaws, bright red blood bubbling at his throat.

Heatherpaw crouched over her mentor. “Crowfeather!”

“I’m okay.” He lifted his head. Heatherpaw backed away as he staggered, spluttering, to his paws.

Shame seared Lionpaw’s pelt. The warrior code told him he didn’t need to kill a cat to prove the battle was won. If Heatherpaw hadn’t stopped him, he would have left Crowfeather dead.

What have I become?

Suddenly the light changed.

The bright morning air softened into shadow. Dawn seemed to give way to dusk. The birds fell silent. The screeching and wailing of battle ceased. Even the buzz of insects quieted as darkness seeped through the trees.

Lionpaw looked up.

The sun was disappearing, swallowed by a great black disk, darker and more sharply defined than any cloud.

“What’s happening?” Heatherpaw’s terrified mew hissed in Lionpaw’s ear, but he couldn’t answer. His voice was trapped in his throat, and his claws rooted him to the ground. Around him the air chilled. And above, the sun vanished completely, plunging the forest into night.

“StarClan’s killed the sun!” The shriek of a WindClan warrior rang through the forest. Instantly cats began wailing, and the woods shivered as they fled, their paws thrumming through the pitch-black forest.

“We’ve got to get home.” Crowfeather coughed. He dragged at Heatherpaw’s scruff as she stood petrified beside Lionpaw.

“Come on!”

Wild-eyed, Heatherpaw turned to follow her mentor.

“I won’t forget,” Lionpaw hissed in her ear.

As she disappeared into the forest, he watched the sun’s dying rays bleed from the edge of the wide black circle.

Jaypaw pressed his nose to Sorreltail’s paw. Leafpool had swathed it in damp comfrey leaves, and it seemed cooler already. “How does it feel?”

Sorreltail lifted it. “Much better.” She glanced toward the barrier. “I should get back to the fighting.”

“No.” Leafpool was cleaning up Mousewhisker’s eye beside them, soaking away the blood with wet moss. “ShadowClan are helping us now and, by the sound of it, there are going to be enough injuries to treat without you getting another.”

“But the fighting’s getting closer,” Sorreltail argued.

Leafpool shook water from the moss. “In that case we might need you here.”

Although the camp felt empty, the forest rang with the chilling sounds of battle. Jaypaw pricked his ears to listen more closely. Firestar’s patrol was fighting WindClan just above the hollow. Had they really been driven back that far?

“Shouldn’t we take the injured cats into the den?” he prompted. Spiderleg was already resting there, calmed by poppy seeds, his bleeding stanched by cobwebs. “It’ll be safer.”

If the camp is overrun.

“The light’s better out here now that the sun’s up,” Leafpool meowed. “Besides, I think they like to see us.”

He knew she meant Daisy and the kits. Millie was organiz-ing them on Highledge.

“Now, who can remember what we do if strangers come into the camp?” Millie prompted.

“Take Millie’s kits to the back of Firestar’s cave,” Rosekit squeaked.

“Then what?” Millie was drilling them carefully.

“We stay with them inside in case strangers come in,”

Toadkit mewed.

“Where will I be?”

“Just outside the cave, keeping guard with Daisy,” Rosekit mewed.

Mousefur’s pelt brushed the rock beside Millie. “Longtail and I will be defending the top of the rocks, to stop any cat from getting onto Highledge.”

“And I’ll be at the bottom!” Brightheart called up from the clearing.

Graystripe and Whitewing were still on guard outside the thorn tunnel. Icepaw had come inside the camp to practice battle moves with Cinderpaw and Ferncloud.

“You will be careful of your leg, won’t you?” Leafpool warned Cinderpaw. “No heroics.”

“No heroics,” Cinderpaw promised. “But if we’re invaded, I’m not hiding inside the medicine den!”