“Yes.” Brightheart wiped her paw on her chest and turned to Stormfur. “How’s the bleeding?”
“I think it’s stopped.”
Lionpaw padded out of the den, his paws heavy as clay. He couldn’t wait to curl up in his nest and close his eyes. Worry pricked his drowsy thoughts. A warrior should always be battle ready. What if he’d been too tired to fight today?
“Lionpaw!” Ashfur was bounding toward him.
Lionpaw’s heart sank, but he twitched his whiskers and tried to look as bright as he could. “Do you want me to go hunting?” he offered.
“No.” Ashfur stopped beside him. “You look worn out. Get some sleep. You obviously need to catch up.”
Lionpaw stiffened. There was a hint of warning in his mentor’s mew. Did Ashfur suspect there was more to his exhaustion than an early morning run?
Lionpaw’s heart thumped in his chest. “I promise I’ll always be ready to fight!” he mewed. “I’m going to become the best warrior ThunderClan has ever known! Really I am!”
Ashfur’s whiskers twitched. “I’m sure you will.”
Lionpaw smelled mouse, warm and delicious. He blinked open his eyes. A piece of fresh-kill was lying on the moss beside his nest.
Honeypaw was standing beside it. “I thought you’d be hungry.”
Lionpaw stretched his paws till they trembled. “Is it late?”
“The sunset patrol has just got back,” Honeypaw reported.
“They brought this.” She dabbed her paw at the mouse.
“Have the kits and elders eaten?” Lionpaw asked.
“Of course.” Honeypaw sat down. “Hazelpaw says you really taught Breezepaw a lesson.” Her eyes sparkled. “She says he ended up in the stream.”
Lionpaw got to his paws. “Yeah.” His heart warmed at the memory. “I don’t think any WindClan apprentices will be hunting in our territory for a while.” A chill ran down his spine. What if it had been Heatherpaw hunting with Harepaw instead of Breezepaw?
“Lionpaw?” Honeypaw was staring at him. “Are you okay?”
Lionpaw shivered. “Just tired,” he mewed, faking a yawn.
“Okay.” Honeypaw shrugged. “We’re at the halfrock if you want to join us.” She padded out of the den.
Lionpaw gulped down the mouse and padded into the clearing to join his denmates. He chatted with them, acutely aware of Hollypaw’s absence, his paws itching for the other apprentices to go to their nests. He glanced at the moon, slowly crossing the sky, misted by thin clouds. Heatherpaw would be waiting for him.
Berrypaw and Hazelpaw were the last to head for the den, their gray-and-white pelts glowing in the darkness. As soon as they disappeared, Lionpaw padded quickly to the dirtplace tunnel. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure the clearing was still empty, he slipped out of the camp.
His ear was stinging from the cold night air by the time he reached the tunnels. He padded inside, the usual eerie sense of foreboding clutching his belly. But this time it was worse. There was something he had to do, something really difficult, but he couldn’t see any other way. However much it hurt… Pushing his dark thoughts away, he followed the twisting passageway to the cave. Heatherpaw was already there. She hurried to greet him, rubbing her nose along his cheek. She smelled warm and sleepy, as though she had just woken up.
“Your poor ear!” she gasped when she saw the blood-encrusted wound.
“It’s fine,” Lionpaw mewed.
“Is that your only wound?” Her eyes glittered with worry in the half-light. “Breezepaw said he’d shredded you!”
Lionpaw stepped back. She should be worried about her Clanmates, not him. He felt more certain than ever that he was about to do the right thing.
Heatherpaw tipped her head to one side. “What?” Could she sense the guilt pricking in his pelt?
Lionpaw gazed at her. “We can’t meet anymore.”
Heatherpaw’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“We just can’t.”
“But we’re having fun. Why do we have to stop? We’re not hurting anyone.” She sounded desperate, her voice coming out as a squeak.
“I think you’re great, Heatherpaw,” Lionpaw mewed. He stared at his paws. Why did she have to make this harder?
“But you need to find someone in your own Clan. I need to be the best warrior I can be, and I can’t do that if I’m here every night.”
Heatherpaw flinched as though he’d raked his claws across her nose. “It doesn’t have to be every night.” Her mew was little more than a whisper.
It doesn’t matter how often we meet! I shouldn’t be here at all! “I was looking out for you in the battle today,” Lionpaw told her.
“What if you’d been in that patrol?”
“You could have fought Breezepaw or Harepaw or—”
“Battles aren’t that simple, and you know it!” She must understand! “I can’t pick and choose. I have to defend my Clan. I can’t be worrying about you all the time.” He watched her gaze cloud with grief and his heart twisted with pain.
“That’s it, then?” she mewed.
“Yes.” He wasn’t going to show how close he was to changing his mind, to agreeing to see her once a moon, or maybe twice, or three times… This was what he had to do.
Anger flared in her eyes. “Fine!” she snapped. “I understand now.” She turned away and padded toward the tunnel.
Before she disappeared into the shadows she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes brimming with pain. “I just hope being a warrior is worth it!”
Chapter 16
Hollypaw wriggled against Willowpaw, trying to get comfortable.
There was hardly enough moss in this nest for one cat, never mind two. And how could Willowpaw sleep so soundly with the water constantly washing against the rocks?
Rain sprayed the lake, dripping from the overhang, puddling on the floor. Through the entrance to the cave, Hollypaw could see the rocky causeway, slick in the darkness.
She strained to see the ThunderClan shore far beyond it, but the air was murky and she could only just make out the shape of the distant forest against the cloudy predawn sky.
She had been in the RiverClan camp for two days. Leopardstar still insisted it was not safe for her to travel home, but every cat—Hollypaw included—knew she was being kept on the island to stop her from reporting RiverClan’s weakness to her Clanmates. She rolled over, her belly growling with hunger.
“Can’t you keep still?” Willowpaw sighed sleepily.
“Sorry.” Hollypaw’s heart ached. She was so far from home.
Willowpaw must have heard the sadness in her friend’s mew. She sat up and stretched, her eyes glowing sympathetically in the half-light. “You’ll be able to go back soon,” she promised.
“How soon?”
“The dams should be finished in a quarter moon,” Willowpaw mewed. “And we’ll be able to move back to our old camp. I’m sure Leopardstar will organize an escort for you then.”
A quarter moon! She couldn’t stay here that long! “But what about my Clan?”
“I know they’ll be worried,” Willowpaw commiserated.
“But think how pleased they’ll be when you get back.”
And angry. Hollypaw’s heart sank as she imagined Brambleclaw’s pelt pricking with annoyance; Squirrelflight’s gaze, sharp with disapproval.
“You won’t say anything, will you?” Willowpaw’s eyes grew round. “You won’t tell them about the island and the Twolegs?”
“No, not if you don’t want me to.” Hollypaw could guess why Willowpaw was so frightened about the other Clans knowing how much RiverClan had suffered. It would take at least a moon for them to recover even if they did manage to rescue their old camp.