At the same moment, Thistleclaw sprang to the ground, his green eyes blazing with fury. “Coward!” he spat, glaring at the spot where Antpelt had vanished. “Is that why WindClan cats run so fast—so they can flee?”
“I always knew he was fox-hearted.” Ivypool was well aware that she had to agree with Thistleclaw. “Now I haven’t got any cat to practice with.”
“Oh, yes, you have.” Thistleclaw turned his gaze on her and swiped his tongue around his lips as if he was anticipating a particularly juicy piece of prey. “You can fight me.”
Ivypool’s heart began pounding so hard that she thought it would leap out of her jaws. “Okay,” she mewed, trying to sound eager.
Before she could take a breath, the warrior hurled himself at her, carrying her off her paws so that she landed with a thump on the ground, his weight on top of her. His claws lashed at her shoulders. Instinctively, Ivypool went limp. When she felt Thistleclaw relax she wriggled out from under him and aimed a couple of swift blows to his side before she sprang out of range.
Her head was spinning with weariness and her paws felt heavy as stones, but Thistleclaw’s hiss of annoyance gave her strength. As he swung around to attack her again, she crouched down, waiting for him, her tail lashing from side to side. When Thistleclaw leaped, Ivypool slid forward underneath his belly and came up behind him, clawing his hindquarters. His tail lashed across her face and she bit down on it hard, rejoicing to hear his yowl of pain. Yanking his tail free, Thistleclaw spun around on her faster than she would have thought possible. Through blurred, tired vision Ivypool watched him, trying to work out where he would spring. As he launched himself into the air she dodged aside, but he flung out one paw and batted her to the ground. Ivypool let out a screech as they rolled on the grass together, clawing at each other’s fur.
Pushing her head against Thistleclaw’s neck, Ivypool struggled to sink her teeth into his throat. With a grunt of effort he flung her off, and she slammed against the bottom of the log pile. Fighting for breath, Ivypool clawed her way upward, moss and fungus crumbling in her fur, until she stood on the topmost tree trunk.
“I win!” she yowled.
Thistleclaw scrambled to his paws and glared up at her. “The cat on top of the heap loses, mouse-brain,” he spat.
“But you didn’t force me up here,” Ivypool meowed triumphantly. “I climbed up myself. And I’m ready to leap down on you again—so I win!”
“I set the rules—” Thistleclaw began.
“The young one is right.” A growl interrupted him, and the shadowy form of Mapleshade stepped out from behind one of the old oaks. Ivypool wondered how long she had been standing there. “Admit defeat, Thistleclaw. Go lick your wounds.”
Thistleclaw let out a snort of disgust and spun around. As he stalked across the clearing and into the trees Ivypool was delighted to see that he was limping.
Mapleshade padded up to the bottom of the log pile and flicked her ears at Ivypool, a signal for her to descend. “I had my doubts about your loyalty,” Mapleshade rasped as Ivypool joined her. “But I’m starting to change my mind. When the battle comes, you will fight alongside me.”
“When will the battle be?” Ivypool asked, trying to sound eager in the hope that Mapleshade would give her some information she could take back to Jayfeather and Lionblaze.
“Not so fast,” Mapleshade murmured with a glint of approval in her eyes. “You may have beaten Thistleclaw, but you still have more to learn before you can take on the Clans’ most experienced warriors.”
“I just want to be ready,” Ivypool assured her.
“You will be,” Mapleshade promised. “And it won’t be long now…”
To Ivypool’s relief, Mapleshade gave her a nod of farewell and faded away into the trees. Weakened by fighting and loss of sleep, Ivypool slumped to the ground, feeling the Dark Forest fade around her as she closed her eyes.
The dusty tang of dry moss and her sister’s familiar scent tickled her nose. Letting out a long sigh, Ivypool opened her eyes. Dovewing was still asleep, lying close beside her with one paw flung over her belly. Careful not to wake her, Ivypool wriggled out from her sister’s grasp and limped out into the clearing. The sky was gray, but she guessed it must be close to sunhigh. Brackenfur, Sorreltail, and Spiderleg were gossiping beside the fresh-kill pile. Ferncloud was dozing in the entrance to the nursery while just outside the elders’ den Purdy was sitting beside Mousefur; Ivypool guessed the former loner was telling her one of his endless stories.
Brambleclaw emerged from the gorse tunnel with a squirrel dangling from his jaws, followed by Birchfall and Whitewing, both carrying mice. Rosepetal brought up the rear with a vole.
It’s all so peaceful, Ivypool thought.
But her mind was filled with images of the final battle: cats screeching, claws lashing, blood soaking into the earth floor of the hollow, cats lying dead with their pelts ripped off…
Is it up to me to prevent the battle? What if I can’t? Will I really be able to save my Clanmates?
Chapter 6
Dovewing sat outside the apprentices’ den, giving herself a quick grooming while her Clanmates milled around her, waiting to leave for the Gathering. The last of the daylight was fading from the stone hollow, and already the full moon was rising in the sky. Craning to reach the fur on the back of her neck, Dovewing tried to stifle her feelings of apprehension. I’d be happier to go to this Gathering if Ivypool were with me.
But Ivypool was still recovering from the injuries she had received in the Dark Forest several days ago, just after they became warriors. Dovewing had been shocked to see the state her sister was in when she woke, with deep scratches on her sides and shoulders and her fur clotted with blood. The wounds had been bad enough for Dovewing to call Jayfeather. He had treated Ivypool with cobwebs and horsetail, and invented a story about her falling into a bramble thicket to explain her injuries to her Clanmates.
Remembering how Icecloud had fallen into the hole, Mousefur had spent some time muttering about clumsy youngsters, but Ivypool had endured it silently. She had refused to tell any cat, even Dovewing, exactly how she came by her injuries.
Worry for her littermate prickled right through Dovewing’s pelt. With no sign that the Clan would be leaving soon, she slid back into her den. Ivypool was curled up in her nest; she raised her head as Dovewing entered, her eyes deep pools of weariness.
“Promise me you won’t go to the Dark Forest tonight,” Dovewing begged.
“I don’t have any choice,” Ivypool replied with a stubborn shake of her head. “And even if I did, I have to go because we don’t know enough about the battle yet.”
“But—” Dovewing broke off in frustration, wishing that her sister would confide in her like she used to. Is she still unhappy with me because I kept my powers a secret from her? “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
“I’ll be fine,” Ivypool meowed with a hint of pride in her voice. “I can cope.”
Dovewing had to fight a twinge of jealousy. Does she think she’s better than me because she’s doing this for our Clan? “Ivypool, I just want—” she began.
“There you are, Dovewing!” Brambleclaw’s voice interrupted her; Dovewing turned to see the ThunderClan deputy peering through the grass that masked the entrance to the den. “Come on, we’re ready to leave.”
“Sorry,” Dovewing mewed. “See you later, Ivypool.” Scrambling out of the den, she raced across to the thorn barrier, where her Clanmates were waiting to file through the tunnel.
“Hi, Dovewing,” Hazeltail greeted her. “Is Ivypool okay?”
“She’s fine,” Dovewing replied.