“Okay, okay!” Lionpaw flashed with resentment. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I have to find it.” Jaypaw wandered away, stumbling over the pebbles and debris. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He felt as if he had let someone down, though he had no idea how or who. His paw was throbbing now but he didn’t care. Had the lake reclaimed the stick?
He headed down the beach until water lapped his paws and paddled into the shallows. He had to find the stick. Cold water rippled against his belly fur. It dragged at his paws as he waded deeper. He remembered falling from the cliff, sinking, floundering beneath the waves. Crowfeather had saved him then, but the fear of the lake had stayed with him. It screamed at him now, warning him to turn back.
Jaypaw!
A voice rang in his head. Something tugged his fur, drawing him farther out. The waves lapped over his spine and he lifted his chin to keep it dry.
This way!
With each paw step he had to reach down farther to feel the pebbles. But he had to find the branch.
Suddenly, his paw knocked something beneath the water.
That’s it!
Taking a great gulp of air, he ducked his head beneath the waves and grabbed the end of the branch in his teeth.
Tugging desperately, he began to drag it up the beach. He let go and took another gulp of air before diving again to grab the branch. He dug his paws into the pebbles, scrabbling to get a grip. The stick was so heavy! He pulled and pulled, his lungs bursting as he tried to drag it out of the water.
Suddenly, it moved more easily. Almost weightless, the stick began to float toward the shore; Jaypaw only needed to guide it with his teeth. Relief surged in his paws as his head finally broke the surface. He gasped and coughed, still gripping the stick in his teeth, water dripping from his whiskers.
He had reached the shallows.
“What in StarClan were you doing?” The branch slapped down in the water as Lionpaw let go of the other end. “I saw you disappear under the water and I thought you were trying to drown yourself. Then I realized you were dragging this! I don’t know how you thought you were going to get it out on your own.”
The water lapped around the stick. Jaypaw ran his paw over it, searching out the scratches. He wished the stick was not so big, that he could take it back to camp with him.
“Look,” he breathed, running his paw over the marks.
“You half drown yourself in the middle of the night for a stick with claw marks on it!” Water sprayed from Lionpaw as he shook himself. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m not,” Jaypaw snapped hotly. “It’s important.”
Thank you, Jaypaw. We’ll be remembered as long as you guard us.
“Come on,” he mewed. “Let’s get this tucked under a root and get back to camp.”
Chapter 11
“For StarClan’s sake!” Ashfur bounded from the ferns and glared angrily at Lionpaw. “How did you miss it?”
The wagtail, which had whisked away from Lionpaw’s outstretched paws only moments earlier, perched on a branch above the training hollow and called an alarm before fluttering away into the trees.
Lionpaw hung his head. He should have caught it, but his paws felt like stones. “Sorry.” The midnight trek to the beach with Jaypaw had left him exhausted. He quivered with irritation. He had left Heatherpaw early last night so he could catch up on his sleep. Why had Jaypaw dragged him out to the lake instead of letting him rest?
“You’re lumbering around like a badger today,” Ashfur scolded.
Spiderleg and Mousepaw padded out of the ferns with Honeypaw and Sandstorm.
“More like a hibernating hedgehog!” Mousepaw teased.
Lionpaw glared at his denmate.
Honeypaw flicked her tail at Mousepaw. “It wasn’t long ago you missed a squirrel,” she reminded him.
Lionpaw’s ears grew hot. He didn’t need Honeypaw to defend him.
“Honeypaw’s right.” Spiderleg nudged Mousepaw’s shoulder with his muzzle. “And your climbing could use some practice.”
Mousepaw flattened his ears. “Well, let’s go practice, then!”
“You’d better not try the Sky Oak!” Honeypaw called out as the two cats headed for the trees. Mousepaw’s tail quivered with annoyance as it disappeared into the undergrowth.
Sandstorm turned to her apprentice. “Come on, Honeypaw, we’ll see if there are any mice around the old beech.”
“Can we come too?” Ashfur looked pointedly at Lionpaw.
“I don’t think we’ll find many birds around here now.”
“Of course.” Sandstorm bounded up the slope out of the hollow and then headed into the trees. Ashfur hurried to catch her up.
“Don’t worry,” Honeypaw whispered, falling in beside Lionpaw. “I missed a sparrow yesterday.”
Lionpaw snorted and hurried ahead of her, bristling.
The ground beneath the beech was littered with empty husks. This was a great place for hunting mice attracted by the ready supply of beechnuts. Lionpaw pushed ahead of Honeypaw into the ferns that ringed the open ground beneath the tree. Ashfur and Sandstorm were waiting for them, sat beneath the arching fronds.
“Let’s hope we manage to catch something here,” Ashfur meowed. “We don’t want the Clan to go hungry.”
“They won’t!” Lionpaw snapped. Why couldn’t Ashfur give him advice instead of pointing out his mistakes?
“Look!” Honeypaw jerked her head toward the clearing. A mouse was sitting between the snaking roots of the beech, a nut between its forepaws. It was busy nibbling at the shell.
“That’ll be easy to catch.” She blinked encouragingly at Lionpaw. “It doesn’t even know we’re here.”
“Why don’t you catch it, then?” he hissed.
Honeypaw’s eyes clouded. “I thought you might want the chance.”
“I don’t need help!” Lionpaw snapped. Did she think he was a helpless kit?
Honeypaw dropped her gaze and he felt guilty. She had only been trying to help. He turned and peered out of the undergrowth. He’d catch the mouse to show her he was sorry.
But it had gone.
Something else was stirring the leaves only a few tail-lengths away. Lionpaw dropped into a hunting crouch.
Willing away the tiredness that made his limbs feel as heavy as wet wood, he began to creep forward. The leaves moved again and a tiny nose peeked out. Tensing every muscle, Lionpaw prepared to leap.
“Keep your tail down!” Ashfur hissed.
Lionpaw pressed his haunches down harder to the ground.
Then he darted forward.
He wasn’t fast enough. The vole scuttled beneath a root.
Lionpaw glanced at Ashfur, expecting some comment, a word of advice or even disappointment, but his mentor turned away without saying anything.
Brambleclaw looked up as Lionpaw followed Ashfur into camp. The ThunderClan deputy’s eyes narrowed as Ashfur dropped two mice and a sparrow onto the fresh-kill pile.
Lionpaw had nothing to offer.
“Prey still running?” Brambleclaw padded over to them.
“There’s certainly plenty around,” Ashfur commented.
Lionpaw waited for Ashfur to tell Brambleclaw how useless he had been today. He blinked in surprise when Ashfur meowed, “Lionpaw’s hunting is coming along fine. He just needs to work on his crouch.”
Why didn’t he tell Brambleclaw the truth? Had Ashfur given up on him? Or was he being soft on him because his father was deputy?
Brambleclaw cuffed Lionpaw softly around the ear. “I thought you’d mastered the hunting crouch before you left the nursery.”