Warriors: Power Of Three 5 - Long Shadows (29 page)

When he peered around the brambles that hung in front of the medicine cats’ den, Jayfeather was on his paws, arching his back in a long stretch. Leafpool was still curled up asleep in her nest.

“Lionblaze?” Jayfeather looked up. “What’s the matter?”

“We’ve got to talk,” Lionblaze told him.

He led the way to the gap behind the warriors’ den, where Hollyleaf was waiting, her green eyes full of fear. “What’s happened?” she demanded as soon as Lionblaze appeared.

“I’ve just overheard Ashfur asking Firestar if he can go to the next Gathering.”

Hollyleaf ’s claws flexed in and out and her neck fur began to bristle. “No! He can’t!” she wailed.

“Be quiet,” Jayfeather snapped. “Do you want every cat to hear us?”

“We’ve got to stop him somehow.” Hollyleaf lowered her voice, but it was still full of desperation. “Otherwise he’ll tell all four Clans about us.”

Lionblaze nodded. “Squirrelflight will be shamed in front of every cat. And they might drive us away from the lake.”

“Firestar wouldn’t let them!” Hollyleaf sounded shocked.

“Firestar might not have a choice,” Jayfeather pointed out.

“You know how the other Clans are always blaming Firestar for taking in loners. Some of our Clanmates agree; they think it weakens ThunderClan. Firestar might have to send us away for the good of his Clan.”

Firestar’s Clan—not theirs. His brother’s calm assessment of the risk chilled Lionblaze from ears to tail-tip. He couldn’t trust anything anymore. He had tried to be the best warrior in the Clan, and now all that was threatened because of what Ashfur knew. “Maybe we should tell Squirrelflight,” he suggested at last.

“Why?” Hollyleaf spat, her claws leaving deep scars in the earth. “What can she do? I don’t want to talk to that lying cat ever again!”

“But it sounds as if she’s the only cat who might have a chance of influencing Ashfur,” Jayfeather pointed out.

“You talk to her, then!”

“We’ll all talk to her.” Lionblaze was trying to stay calm.

“Show some sense, Hollyleaf. We have to do anything we can to stop Ashfur.”

Without waiting for his sister’s agreement he wriggled out of the narrow gap behind the den and scanned the clearing.

His littermates followed, Hollyleaf ’s green eyes still sparkling with anger.

Lionblaze couldn’t see Squirrelf light anywhere in the clearing. Thrusting his head through the branches of the warriors’ den, he spotted her dozing in her mossy nest.

“Squirrelf light!” he hissed.

The ginger she-cat’s head snapped up, hope flooding into her eyes. Lionblaze felt a pang of sympathy. This was the first time any of the three had spoken to her since the storm; she must be hoping they were ready to forgive her.

“Can I have a word with you?” Lionblaze whispered, aware of the other sleeping cats inside the den.

“Yes.” Squirrelflight leaped up eagerly and shook scraps of moss from her pelt. “Of course you can.”

As she emerged from the den, the hope in her eyes changed to wariness when she saw all three cats waiting for her. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I’ve just heard Ashfur asking Firestar for permission to go to the next Gathering,” Lionblaze replied.

He didn’t need to tell Squirrelflight what that meant. Her eyes stretched wide with dismay. “No . . .” she whispered.

“What are you going to do about it?” Hollyleaf challenged her. “Or are you fine with it? I don’t suppose you’d care if Firestar drove us all out of the Clan.”

The tip of Squirrelflight’s tail twitched and anger flashed in her eyes, but she spoke calmly. “Firestar won’t do that. Not to you.”

“How do you know, if we’re not Clan cats?” Jayfeather asked.

“You—” Squirrelflight broke off and began again. “I promise that you won’t be punished. The lie was mine, and mine alone.”

“Our real mother lied, too,” Hollyleaf pointed out, a snarl creeping into her voice. “Whoever she was . . .”

Lionblaze looked expectantly at Squirrelflight, but her expression was closed and her jaws tight shut. Clearly she wasn’t going to share all her secrets. “I’ll talk to Ashfur,” she meowed. “I’ll make him understand that this won’t just hurt me. It will damage the whole Clan. He’s still a loyal warrior; he won’t do anything to weaken ThunderClan.” She dipped her head. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

No cat answered her. After a couple of heartbeats Squirrelflight turned away and slipped back into the den.

“She might trust Ashfur not to harm the Clan,” Jayfeather mewed. “But I don’t. We have to do something.”

He turned and padded back toward the medicine cats’ den.

Lionblaze watched him go. That was easy enough to say, he thought, but harder to carry out. What could any cat do, to silence Ashfur?

That night, blood flowed through Lionblaze’s dreams.

His whole body quivered with power; he twisted and leaped against an unseen enemy until his claws were snagged with gray fur, and the reek of the sticky scarlet rivers clung to his pelt and filled the air around him.

He woke in the warriors’ den with pale light filtering through the branches. Most of the nests were already empty.

Scrambling up, Lionblaze felt his legs as stiff and his paws as heavy as if he had really spent the night battling his enemy.

His jaws gaped in a yawn and he stretched out his forepaws, flexing his claws and working the muscles in his shoulders.

Feeling more awake, Lionblaze pushed his way into the clearing. He tensed when he saw Ashfur a couple of tail-lengths away, beckoning to Cloudtail and Brightheart, who were sharing tongues by the fresh-kill pile.

“Come on,” he called. “Hunting patrol.”

Lionblaze padded over to him. “Mind if I join you?”

For a moment Ashfur looked startled. Then his eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

Cloudtail and Brightheart joined them, and the patrol headed out into the forest. Lionblaze brought up the rear. He knew that Ashfur must be suspicious; none of the three had spoken to him since the storm. But he wasn’t afraid of Ashfur, and somehow he had to confront him where no other cats could overhear them.

Lionblaze had no idea how to separate Ashfur from Cloudtail and Brightheart, but he had no need to worry. As they padded along the old Twoleg path toward the abandoned nest, Cloudtail stopped and sniffed the air.

“I think I’m going to try in the Twoleg garden,” he announced. “No cat has been there for a while.”

Ashfur shrugged. “I think you’re wasting your time, but go ahead if you want to. We’ll catch up to you.”

Cloudtail and Brightheart bounded off up the path. Ashfur watched them out of sight, then turned to Lionblaze. “Well?

What do you want? I don’t imagine you asked to come on this patrol for the pleasure of my company.”

“No,” Lionblaze replied steadily. He was finding it hard to separate his respect for Ashfur, as his Clanmate and his former mentor, from his feelings about the raving cat who had threatened them on the night of the storm and now was threatening them again with his knowledge of Squirrelflight’s lie. “I heard you ask Firestar to go to the next Gathering. I know what you’re going to do there.”

Ashfur’s whiskers twitched. “So?”

“I’m asking you not to. Not for our sake,” Lionblaze added,

“but for the sake of ThunderClan. You hold its fate in your paws.”

Ashfur heaved a deep sigh. “Spare me the appeal to my Clan loyalty,” he sneered. “I’ve already had Squirrelflight mewling to me about that. I told her, and I’m telling you now—there’s nothing that any cat can do to stop me.”

Lionblaze felt his neck fur begin to rise. He slid his claws out of their sheaths. “I can beat you in a fight if I have to.”

Instantly Ashfur’s claws appeared, and his eyes narrowed, glittering with hostility. “You can try.” Then he relaxed, drawing in his claws again. “The noble Lionblaze? Attack-ing a fellow warrior? No, you would never risk your place in ThunderClan by doing that.”

With a snort of contempt, he began to walk away, then glanced back over one shoulder. “You’re bound by the warrior code, just like all of us.”

“And the warrior code lets you destroy our Clan?” Lionblaze challenged him as he stalked away.

Ashfur ignored him. Lionblaze watched him until he disappeared into the undergrowth. There was no way he was going to let this cat take away everything ThunderClan had fought for—everything he had fought for.

“Maybe I’m not as bound by the warrior code as you think . . .”

he murmured.

Jay feather curled up in his nest in the medicine cats’ den and waited for sleep to take him. Lionblaze had told him how he had confronted Ashfur in the forest, and how the gray warrior had refused his pleas and Squirrelflight’s. If that didn’t do any good, Jayfeather thought, it’s time to try another way.

Yawning, he burrowed deeper into the soft moss. He pictured himself brushing past the bramble screen, out into the camp, and padding across the clearing to the warriors’ den.

Sliding through the branches, he picked his way carefully among the sleeping forms until he stood beside the mound of gray fur that was Ashfur.

In his mind, Jayfeather scraped at the moss until he had made a place for himself, then curled up beside Ashfur and matched his breathing to the sleeping warrior’s.

Soon he felt a stiff breeze blowing across his fur, and woke to find himself in the forest, not far from the ShadowClan border. There was no sign of Ashfur, but the forest seemed subtly different. It wasn’t just that he could see; there was something else. The scent of ShadowClan made his fur bristle as if he was anticipating a fight; he slid his claws out so he would be ready. He was more aware than usual of the scent of prey.

Wind flattened the grass, driving dead leaves ahead of it.

Jayfeather pounced on one of them, enjoying the crackling sound beneath his paws; in the waking world he couldn’t see blowing leaves to play with them.

“But you’re not a kit anymore,” he muttered.

In the same heartbeat he heard the sound of a cat pushing his way through the undergrowth. Fronds of bracken parted in front of Jayfeather, and Ashfur pushed his way into the open. He halted, startled.

“What are you doing here?”

Jayfeather shrugged. “I could ask you the same thing.” He padded forward until he was close enough to flick a scrap of bracken off Ashfur’s shoulder with the tip of his tail.

Ashfur’s neck fur rose. “You can see!”

“Sure. You’re dreaming, Ashfur. Don’t you know that?”

The gray warrior took a pace back; his blue eyes looked troubled. “Why would I dream about you?”

“Because I want to talk to you where no cat can interrupt us. Where you have to listen to me.”

Ashfur let out a snort. “I don’t have to listen to any cat, let alone a scrawny excuse for a medicine cat. Besides, I already know what you’re going to say. You’re going to beg me not to say anything at the next Gathering. Well, you can save your breath. I’ll say what I want. That lying she-cat will be driven out of ThunderClan for good, and no other Clan will want her, either.”

Jayfeather narrowed his eyes. “You’ll regret it, Ashfur.”

The warrior loomed over him, anger smoldering in his gaze. “Are you threatening me? I could break your neck with one swipe.”

“Try,” Jayfeather invited him. “This is a dream, remember?”

Ashfur looked brief ly disconcerted; then he lashed his tail.

“Yes, it’s a dream. I’m imagining all of this. I still don’t have to listen to you.”

“Take warning, Ashfur.” Jayfeather drew himself up and locked his gaze with his Clanmate’s. “I’m a medicine cat, and I speak with the voice of StarClan. If you go ahead with what you plan to do, you will regret it.”

Ashfur backed away again until his haunches brushed against the bracken. “My conscience is clear, and StarClan knows that,” he blustered. “It’s Squirrelflight who lied. She doesn’t deserve the loyalty of any cat.”

Whipping around, he plunged back into the undergrowth.

Jayfeather stood looking after him until the waving fronds of fern were still once more. Ashfur had heard his warning, but would it make any difference to him when he woke?

Jayfeather spent the next morning sorting herbs with Leafpool. His mentor seemed oddly distracted, as if her mind was on something else.

“We need more water mint,” she murmured. “We used up so much when the cats were hurt after the storm.”

“No, this is water mint.” Jayfeather shoved a bunch of it under her nose. “We’ve plenty of it. It’s yarrow we’re out of.”

“Oh yes . . . sorry.”

Fed up of trying to work with her if she couldn’t tell yarrow from water mint, Jayfeather headed out of the den. “I’ll go fetch more,” he tossed back over his shoulder.

At the entrance to the tunnel he heard the rustle of cats coming in, and stood back to wait for them. Cloudtail was the first to emerge into the clearing, followed by Ashfur.

“What do you want?” To Jayfeather’s satisfaction, the gray warrior sounded thoroughly spooked. Feelings of anger and uncertainty crackled through his fur.

“I’m waiting to go out,” Jayfeather replied calmly.

A snort came from Ashfur, followed by Whitewing’s voice.

“Ashfur, you’re blocking the entrance.” There was a hiss of annoyance from Ashfur and he bounded away.

Returning with the yarrow, Jayfeather picked up Ashfur’s scent near the fresh-kill pile. Instead of going straight to the medicine cats’ den, he headed toward the gray warrior. His sense of satisfaction returned as he heard Ashfur get to his paws and pad away, thrusting through the branches into the warriors’ den.

I’ve got him worried, Jayfeather realized, veering off to his own den. But will it be enough to keep him quiet?

It was the afternoon before the Gathering. Hollyleaf felt as if her whole world was crumbling around her. She had thought that once they got rid of Sol, life in the Clans would return to normal, but instead the terrible threat of Ashfur hung over them like a tree about to fall. He’s going to ruin everything!

Her paws itching with restlessness, Hollyleaf slipped out of the camp and wandered into the forest. She felt completely powerless, now that she knew she wasn’t one of the three: Her belief in the prophecy had made her feel that she could do anything, but Ashfur had torn that belief away from her. A cat with the power of the stars in her paws would have been able to stop one cat from speaking words that would tear his Clan apart. But plain Hollyleaf, no longer Firestar’s kin, could do nothing.