Warriors: Power Of Three 4 - Eclipse (9 page)

Hollypaw looked up at Highledge and saw Firestar gazing down at the clearing. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather together!” he called.

Thornclaw and Sandstorm were already waiting below Highledge with Honeypaw and Poppypaw. The young cats looked sleek and shiny from close grooming, and their eyes sparkled.

Hollypaw hurried to join Lionpaw at the edge of the clearing. Her paws were tingling. She was only a moon younger than Poppypaw and Honeypaw. It would be her turn next.

“Can you imagine what it feels like to be made a warrior?”

she whispered to Lionpaw.

Lionpaw puffed out his chest. “Every cat will take us seriously then,” he meowed.

Millie, swollen-bellied, padded from the nursery and looked hopefully around the camp. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Graystripe gulping down a mouse beside the halfrock.

He looked up, swallowing. “Sorry.” He burped, hurrying to her side. “I was hungry after the patrol.” He looked anxiously at her. “Have you eaten?”

Millie licked his cheek. “Poppypaw brought us fresh-kill earlier,” she assured him.

They padded to the edge of the clearing, which buzzed with chatter as the Clan gathered for the naming ceremony.

Mousefur padded stiffly from the elders’ den, Longtail beside her. It was hard to tell who was guiding whom.

“At this rate, there won’t be any apprentices left to fetch moss for my nest,” Mousefur complained.

Icepaw was bouncing past the elder and stopped to gaze earnestly up at her. “I’ll always fetch you the softest moss, Mousefur,” she promised. “Even when I’m a warrior.”

Mousefur purred. “Get away with you!” She affectionately shooed the young apprentice away with her muzzle.

Hollypaw nudged Lionpaw. “Icepaw must be crazy.”

Lionpaw’s whiskers twitched with amusement.

Cloudtail and Brightheart had settled in the shadow beneath Highledge. Thornclaw and Sandstorm nodded a greeting to them. The two mentors had backed away from Poppypaw and Honeypaw, and their fur splayed untidily against the rock face. They clearly wanted to give Sorreltail and Brackenfur room to fuss over their kits.

Sorreltail was giving Poppypaw’s ears a fierce lick. “I want you looking nice,” she meowed as Poppypaw scooted backward, out of reach.

Brackenfur purred. “She looks fine.” His proud gaze switched to Honeypaw. “They both do.”

Sorreltail looked at her paws, sadness glazing her eyes.

“Molekit should be here too.” Her only tom-kit had died of greencough before he was out of the nursery.

“And Cinderpaw.” Cloudtail glanced toward the medicine cat den.

The white warrior’s whiskers twitched as the brambles at the entrance stirred, then drooped as Leafpool emerged.

Hollypaw guessed he had been hoping that Cinderpaw would come to watch the ceremony.

Tail flicking, Sorreltail left her kits and hurried to Leafpool’s side. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Leafpool assured her friend. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have left her.” Hollypaw noticed that the worry in the medicine cat’s eyes didn’t match the lightness of her tone.

To Hollypaw’s surprise, Sorreltail nuzzled Leafpool’s flank.

“It must remind you of Cinderpelt’s accident,” she murmured.

Leafpool’s eyes grew round, as though she’d never noticed the connection before. She blinked. “That’s exactly why I won’t let the same thing happen to Cinderpaw.”

“I hope Leafpool’s right this time,” Cloudtail muttered to Brightheart.

Brightheart pressed her muzzle against his cheek. “She will be. It’ll be Cinderpaw’s turn before you know it.”

Icepaw still hadn’t settled. “I can’t wait till it’s my turn!”

She was padding excitedly around her brother outside the circle of cats. “I want to be called Icestorm. Do you think we get to choose?”

“Firestar chooses,” Foxpaw mewed. “But I hope he chooses Foxcatcher for me.”

“That’s a terrible name.” Icepaw gasped.

“No, it’s not!”

“Is so!”

Ferncloud padded over to her two kits. “Are you arguing again?” She licked Icepaw’s head, f lattening a bit of fur that was sticking up like a tuft of grass.

“Foxpaw started it,” Icepaw accused.

“I don’t care who started it,” Ferncloud meowed. “Be quiet and let Firestar speak.”

Icepaw looked up in alarm to find Firestar staring sternly down at her. Quickly, she hurried around the edge of the clearing with Foxpaw on her tail, and sat down beside Hollypaw. Hollypaw stif led a purr as Icepaw folded her tail over her paws and tried to sit still.

Firestar stepped to the edge of Highledge. “I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these two apprentices.” Hollypaw could feel Icepaw trembling with excitement as Firestar went on. “They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.” He bounded down the tumble of rocks and padded to the center of the clearing. Sandstorm nodded encouragement to Honeypaw, whose eyes were wide with apprehension. Thornclaw nudged Poppypaw forward, and the two apprentices stepped into the clearing.

“Poppypaw and Honeypaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”

“I do,” Honeypaw breathed.

“I do!” Poppypaw’s mew nearly drowned out her sister’s reply.

Envy made Hollypaw’s claws itch. She pushed it away. Not long to wait.

“Then by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior names.” He beckoned Poppypaw with a flick of his tail. She padded toward him, chin high.

Touching his muzzle to her head, Firestar pronounced,

“Poppypaw, from this moment you shall be known as Poppyfrost.” He stepped back. “StarClan honors your courage and initiative.”

He glanced at Honeypaw, who stepped forward in her turn. “Honeypaw, you shall be known as Honeyfern. StarClan honors your intelligence and kindness.” He pressed his nose between her ears.

“Poppyfrost! Honeyfern!” The Clan raised their voices to welcome the new warriors.

Hollypaw cheered as loudly as she could, proud of her denmates. But her mew died away as she noticed Honeyfern glance shyly at Berrynose; it was as if she wanted his approval above anyone’s.

She hissed into Lionpaw’s ear, “I wish Honeypaw—I mean Honeyfern—would stop mooning over that know-it-all!”

Lionpaw snorted. “She’ll be worse now that they’re sharing a den again.”

Hollypaw glanced at her brother, surprised to hear him so scornful. After all, he’d had his fair share of heartache. Does he ever think about Heatherpaw? If only Honeyfern were looking at him instead. A relationship with her would tie him even more tightly to the Clan. She remembered with a pang how close his love for Heatherpaw had come to tearing him away from them.

Had he truly forgotten her? He certainly never mentioned her.

That was a good sign. But then, he hadn’t mentioned her when he was sneaking off to meet her in the tunnels.

“Cats shouldn’t get so sappy over each other,” Lionpaw interrupted her thoughts. “It distracts them from trying to be the best warriors they can be.”

Relieved to hear that he finally seemed to have worked out where his loyalties lay, Hollypaw pressed closer to him. She knew how hard it had been for him to say good-bye to Heatherpaw. But it was the right thing to do. It was the only thing to do.

As the cheering died away, Firestar lifted his voice once more. “I’m sorry that I cannot give Cinderpaw her warrior name today. But once her leg has healed, I know the whole Clan will be pleased to welcome her as a warrior.”

“Cinderpaw!” Honeyfern and Poppyfrost led the cheering this time, and Hollypaw glanced hopefully at the entrance to the medicine cat den. Had Cinderpaw peeked out to watch after all? There was no sign of the injured apprentice. Hollypaw sighed. Had she even heard the ceremony?

“Brambleclaw!” As the cats began to melt away, returning to their duties or to their dens, Firestar called to his deputy.

“Bring Sandstorm, Brackenfur, and Hollypaw with you.”

Hollypaw didn’t wait to be summoned by her father. She hurried over to the Highledge. Graystripe was already there; Sandstorm and Brackenfur padded beside Brambleclaw to join them.

“What is it?” Brambleclaw asked.

Hollypaw leaned forward, her whiskers twitching with worry. Graystripe’s warning flashed in her memory. This is serious news.

Firestar’s tone was grave. “The dawn patrol picked up WindClan scent on our side of the border again.”

Graystripe nodded. “And this time we found proof that they’re not just chasing prey over the border, but killing it there too.”

A growl rumbled in Brackenfur’s throat. “Proof?”

“There was squirrel fur and blood at the bottom of a tree inside our territory.”

Sandstorm bristled. “How dare they, after the warnings we’ve already given them?”

“We don’t know why they’re doing it,” Firestar meowed.

“But we must find out before we react.”

“It’s obvious why they’re doing it!” Brambleclaw burst out.

“They’re greedy.”

“We can’t be sure of that.” Firestar remained calm.

“We should post a patrol at the border,” Sandstorm declared,

“and attack them next time they cross.”

Firestar glanced at his mate, narrowing his eyes. “I know how you feel, Sandstorm. But that’s not the best way to deal with this. I want to avoid bloodshed if we can.”

Sandstorm’s hackles rose. “They’re stealing our food!”

“And we’re not going to let them get away with it,” Firestar insisted. “But there’s no point rushing into battle before we know what’s going on.”

Sandstorm glared back. “Don’t you fight anyone anymore?”

“I’ll fight if I have to!” Firestar held her gaze. “But I won’t spill blood if reason can solve the problem.”

“We’ve tried reasoning with WindClan before,” Brambleclaw argued. “You act like they’re still our allies.”

Firestar shook his head. “I know they stopped being our allies long ago.” Wistfulness clouded his gaze. “The Clans are all rivals now.”

Hollypaw stared at her leader. Is he remembering the Great Journey? Six cats from the Clans traveled together to save them all. Or perhaps he was thinking of their most recent trek into the mountains. Hollypaw felt a tremor of doubt. Perhaps that journey hadn’t been such a good idea. Perhaps the blurring of the Clans led to the blurring of borders. And if borders were blurred, how could prey be shared fairly? There had to be rules, or only those who were prepared to fight all the time would survive! That was why StarClan wanted them to live by the warrior code. We need the warrior code as much as we need food and water! Hollypaw dug her claws into the ground. The Clans depended on the code; it was as simple as that.

“So what’s your plan?” Brambleclaw asked.

“I want you to go to Onestar,” Firestar told him. “Take Sandstorm, Brackenfur, and Hollypaw. Find out why he’s doing this. Tell him we’re increasing border patrols, and that if we catch any prey-thieves, we’ll deal with them, claws unsheathed.”

“Very well,” Brambleclaw agreed. “We’ll leave at once.” The deputy turned and headed for the gorse tunnel, Brackenfur and Sandstorm at his heels.

I’ve got to tell Lionpaw what’s happening! Hollypaw scanned the clearing. Her brother’s tail was sticking out of the elders’ den.

He must be cleaning out their nests.

She darted toward him.

His backside wriggled as he flung old bedding over his shoulder. Balls of moss showered around him, and he was grumbling to himself: “Mousefur was right.” A wad f lew past Hollypaw’s ear. “There aren’t enough apprentices to do all the chores, and it’ll be ages till Rosekit and Toadkit are made ’paws!”

“I’m going to WindClan territory,” Hollypaw hissed.

Lionpaw’s tail disappeared as he whipped around. “Why?”

“We’re going to warn Onestar to keep out of our territory.”

He flexed his claws. “I wish I were going!”

Brambleclaw’s impatient mew sounded from the thorn tunnel. “Hollypaw!”

“I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.” Hollypaw dashed away and followed the patrol through the tunnel.

The forest was gloomy. No sunlight f lickered through the trees; the sky hung dull and gray above them. The air tasted musty, of dying leaves and rotting bark, and the ground was soft and mushy beneath Hollypaw’s pads. Leaf-fall was closing in. As Brambleclaw and Sandstorm charged ahead, Hollypaw stopped to clean the mud from between her claws on the deeply ridged bark of a fallen tree.

Brackenfur halted beside her. “You’re wasting your time,”

he meowed. “We’ve still got to cross the moor.”

“But it feels icky,” she complained.

“You can give them a good cleaning when we get home.”

Brackenfur f licked his tail toward Brambleclaw and Sandstorm as they disappeared over the crest of the slope. “Hurry up; we don’t want to get left behind.”

Hollypaw raced after her mentor, and they caught up to the others at the edge of the forest. As they padded out from the trees, the wind f lattened Hollypaw’s fur. It tasted of rain.

She narrowed her eyes against the buffeting breeze. Below them the land sloped down to the border; clumps of heather dotted the hillside as woodland gave way to moorland.

“Why didn’t we go to the border inside the forest?” she asked.

“We’ll get a better view this way,” Brambleclaw told her.

“We should be able to spot a WindClan patrol far inside their territory and call to it without setting paw on their land.”

As he led the way to the border, Hollypaw opened her mouth, tasting for the scent of WindClan markers. The grass beneath her paws grew coarse. She tried to detect the scent line, but a tangier smell was filling her nose. Hollypaw curled her lip. “What’s that stench?”

“Sheep.” Brackenfur plunged through a swath of heather crossing their path.

Of course. As Hollypaw struggled through the heather and emerged on the other side, she recognized the f luffy shapes on the hillside. “Why are there so many?” They swarmed across the moor like clouds across a dusty green sky.

“Must have been a good season for them,” Brackenfur guessed.

Brambleclaw halted. “Here’s the border.”