“I can’t,” Jaypaw mumbled around a mouthful of mouse, glad that he had an excuse for being mysterious. “You know sharpclaws can’t talk about what happens in the tunnels.”
Fish Leap grunted. “You think you’re better than us now you’re a sharpclaw.”
“He does not!” Half Moon exclaimed indignantly.
Jaypaw wasn’t sure how to defend himself. He didn’t know enough about what a sharpclaw was supposed to do. He guessed they were like warriors, but if he was wrong he might be in trouble again.
To his relief, Dove’s Wing nudged Fish Leap away. “Leave him alone,” she meowed. “He’s still tired; he needs to rest some more. We’ll all find out about the tunnels soon enough. I’m just glad Jay’s Wing got out safely.”
Half Moon’s green eyes clouded. “Not like Fallen Leaves,” she murmured.
Fish Leap and Dove’s Wing exchanged a sorrowful glance. Jaypaw felt hollow in his heart when he thought about how long Fallen Leaves was destined to wander through the tunnels, trying to find the way out. He wished there was a way to let these cats know that their friend was dead, drowned in a flood, and they would never see him again. It was clear that the waiting had already driven Broken Shadows mad.
Finishing the mouse, Jaypaw wriggled back into his den. He was falling back to sleep when he heard Fish Leap’s voice, raised in protest.
“One lost cat doesn’t mean that all the rest of us have to leave!”
“It’s not just one, as you well know,” Half Moon retorted. “How many cats have to die before we look for somewhere else to live? There must be other places with prey and shelter for all of us.”
Jaypaw pricked his ears, keeping his eyes shut so it would look as if he was asleep. These cats were debating whether to stay here by the lake, or to find a new home. Is that why we didn’t find any cats here when the Clans came to the lake? Fish Leap padded away, still muttering, with Half Moon arguing more and more heatedly. When he could no longer hear what they were saying, Jaypaw let the blackness of exhaustion fill his mind.
During the night he woke briefly to find Dove’s Wing curled up close beside him. He hadn’t slept so near another cat since he became Leafpool’s apprentice; her warmth was comforting, and her scent was already becoming familiar. He let out a faint purr as sleep washed over him again.
Gray light was filtering through the ivy tendrils when Jaypaw next opened his eyes. Dove’s Wing had disappeared, but two other cats were gazing down at him. One of them was Fish Leap; the other was an older tortoiseshell she-cat that Jaypaw remembered seeing when he came out of the tunnel the day before. Her amber eyes were the exact same shade as Fish Leap’s; Jaypaw guessed that she was his mother.
“Hey, Jay’s Wing! Come hunting!” Fish Leap exclaimed when he saw that Jaypaw was awake.
That seemed like a good chance to explore their—ThunderClan’s—territory. Jaypaw scrambled out of his nest and stretched. “Are we going on a patrol?” he asked.
To his dismay, Fish Leap and the tortoiseshell exchanged a baffled glance. “What’s a patrol?” the tortoiseshell meowed.
Mouse-dung! They don’t have patrols, either.
“Dawn River, I think Jay’s Wing banged his head when he was down in the tunnels.” Fish Leap shrugged. “He keeps talking nonsense.”
Jaypaw hid his awkwardness by licking a tufty piece of fur on his chest. “Never mind,” he mumbled.
“Let’s go,” Dawn River urged. “Remember to watch out for badgers.”
She took the lead as the three cats set off into the woods. Jaypaw shivered from ears to tail-tip when he saw how different the forest was from the territory he knew in the time of the Clans. It wasn’t just that the trees were smaller and there was so little undergrowth. The biggest difference was that now he could see.
“Watch it!” Fish Leap warned him.
The exclamation came just too late. Jaypaw was so busy gazing around at the trees, their leaves taking on colors of scarlet and gold at the beginning of leaf-fall, that he hadn’t noticed the rabbit hole right in front of his paws. He stumbled into it, paws flailing.
“Fox dung!” he spat.
He heard Fish Leap let out a mrrow of laughter, and felt the tabby tom’s teeth sink into his scruff as he hauled him out.
“Are you okay?” Dawn River checked.
Jaypaw shook loose earth out of his pelt. “I’m fine.”
As they padded on he made a determined effort to watch where he was putting his paws, but it was difficult. Light dazzled him, and he was distracted by the flickering of leaves and trees looming up in front of him. The senses of smell and hearing, and his awareness of nearby objects, that were usually so acute had grown dull, so that he felt as if he was blundering through a fog.
I’m never as clumsy as this, he thought crossly as he tripped over a branch.
“You’ll scare all the prey away if you go on like that,” Fish Leap pointed out. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he added. “Do you want to go back to your den?”
“I’m fine,” Jaypaw repeated through gritted teeth. But Fish Leap was right: Stumbling around like a blind badger would scare off all the prey. Jaypaw closed his eyes, and instantly felt more comfortable. His other senses grew sharp again, telling him which way to go. Scents and sounds swirled around him, calling up a far clearer picture of his surroundings than he could gain from his eyes.
“Jay’s Wing?” Dawn River sounded puzzled and concerned. “Have you gone to sleep on your paws?”
Startled, Jaypaw veered away from the sound of her voice. His eyes flicked open just in time to see the rough bark of a tree in front of his nose. There was no chance to stop before he crashed right into it.
“Wow!” Fish Leap exclaimed, his voice trembling with amusement. “You caught a tree!”
Jaypaw was relieved when Dawn River and Fish Leap set off alone, each of them sniffing for prey, and left him to recover. Grooming bits of bark out of his coat, he wondered what he was going to do. If he was a sharpclaw, these cats would expect him to know how to hunt. But back in his own Clan, he had never been trained for that. He had never caught his own prey.
I’ll just have to try. How hard can it be?
He began prowling through the trees with his eyes closed so that he could pick out the scents more clearly, and soon detected a trace of mouse. Pausing to listen, he heard the scuffling of tiny paws, and leaped in the direction of the sound. His paws thumped down on grass; there was no sign of his mouse.
“Bad luck!” Fish Leap meowed cheerfully behind him. Jaypaw opened his eyes and turned to see that the other cat was dragging a squirrel between his front paws. Dawn River stood behind him, a mouse clamped in her jaws.
“Haven’t you caught anything yet?” Fish Leap teased. “I thought sharpclaws were better than that.”
“I…er…I was looking for the horsetail that Running Horse mentioned,” Jaypaw mewed, improvising wildly. “He says it’s good for sore pads.”
Dawn River nodded. “It must be hard for you to hunt when your pads aren’t healed yet.”
“All the same, you’d better catch something,” Fish Leap told him. “Unless you want to go hungry.”
Jaypaw wasn’t surprised. He had already guessed that these cats had to hunt for themselves, even before they were sharpclaws; they didn’t have patrols, and he hadn’t seen any sign of a fresh-kill pile. “Should we catch something for the elders?” he suggested.
Fish Leap shrugged. “If we find something extra.”
Jaypaw felt a pang of homesickness for ThunderClan, where every cat was fed, even those who didn’t have the time or skill to hunt for themselves.
“I’m going to try down by the stream,” Dawn River declared. “I could just eat a yummy vole.”
So could I, Jaypaw thought, watching the tortoiseshell she-cat out of sight, but I don’t think I’m going to get one. What am I going to eat if I can’t tell them that I don’t hunt?
“I’ll see you later,” Fish Leap meowed. “Good hu
nting!”
He bounded off in the direction of the ShadowClan border. No, Jaypaw reminded himself. Where the ShadowClan border will be.
Keeping his eyes open in an attempt to get used to seeing, he headed toward the stone hollow. Fear drew icy claws down his spine. What if the hollow isn’t there?
Before many heartbeats had passed, the harsh tang of a Thunderpath crept into Jaypaw’s nostrils. He paused, bewildered. There’s no Thunderpath across our territory!
He pressed himself closer to the ground, creeping forward and taking advantage of what little cover there was. Eventually he came out beside the Thunderpath, its hard black surface snaking through the trees. Pricking his ears, he listened for the sound of monsters, but nothing disturbed the gentle rustling of the breeze among the branches.
Glancing up and down, Jaypaw spotted the walls of a Twoleg nest among the trees; more cautiously than ever he crept toward it, alert for the scent and sound of Twolegs or dogs. But everything was silent. The door of the nest was tight shut, and the shiny stuff in the windows was broken and scattered.
Jaypaw blinked in sudden understanding. This is the Twoleg nest where the sick cats are staying! There weren’t any holes in the walls, and the roof was still in one piece, but the size and shape were the same.
So the Thunderpath is the old Twoleg path. Jaypaw bounded back to it. He hadn’t recognized it with its black surface intact instead of broken up and covered with tiny creeping plants. Now I know where I am!
He trotted along beside the Thunderpath, still wary of monsters, though none of the smelly, roaring creatures appeared. Just as he knew it would, it led him to the entrance to the hollow.
Jaypaw stopped and looked around. Walls of stone stretched up around him, low near the entrance and rising to a height of many fox-lengths opposite him. There was a trace of Twoleg scent, but it was faint and stale. His gaze traveled around the hollow as he tried to imagine where the dens would be. It was hard to picture them because there was no undergrowth yet, no brambles, bracken, or hazel to soften the harsh lines of the walls. Only a few stems of willowherb had pushed their way through the earth, their feathery tops stirred by the breeze. Jaypaw thought he recognized the Highledge with the cave behind it where Firestar had his den, but there was no sign of the tumbled rocks that made a path up to it.
“Jay’s Wing!”
Jaypaw jumped, startled, and whirled around to see the white she-cat, Half Moon, staring at him with scared green eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped. “The badgers will get you. Quick!”
She bounded away through the trees and up the side of the hollow, heading for the entrance to the underground tunnels. Jaypaw followed her, closing his eyes so that he could match her speed. So this is where the badgers lived, he thought, noticing strong badger scent for the first time; his mind had been so distracted by the changes to the Twoleg path and the stone hollow that he had missed it on the way there. The hollow must be out-of-bounds to the cats because it belonged to their enemies—not rival cats, but badgers. Maybe these were the ancestors of the badgers that came back to the forest, moons and moons later, and attacked ThunderClan, killing Cinder-pelt. Did those badgers know that this had been their home once?
Jaypaw was relieved when the badger scents faded and Half Moon finally slowed and flopped down on the cool grass. He wondered how she knew that they were safe here, when there were no border markings to separate their territory from the badgers’.
“I never thought so before,” he began carefully, “but isn’t it weird how the badgers never chase us here, when there’s nothing to stop them?”
Half Moon shrugged. “I guess there’s enough prey in the thicker part of the forest, so they don’t need to come out this far.” She glanced sideways at Jaypaw, clearly wanting to say something but not sure if she should. “I followed your scent,” she admitted. “I thought you might be in trouble. And I’ve got this for you.” She vanished under a bush and reappeared a heartbeat later with a blackbird in her jaws, which she dropped in front of Jaypaw. “I thought you might find it hard to hunt when your paws are sore.”
Jaypaw nodded, glad of the excuse but still feeling a bit guilty as he crouched in front of the blackbird. “Thanks. Do you want to share it with me?”
“I already ate, but I’ll have a mouthful, thanks.” Half Moon settled down on the opposite side of the prey.
While he ate, Jaypaw realized that he would need to learn how to hunt if he was going to stay here for any length of time. But that could be tricky, when he was supposed to be a sharpclaw already.
“Will Furled Bracken give me any duties?” he asked Half Moon.
The white she-cat had taken one bite of the blackbird, then began to clean her face and whiskers with her paws. “You might have to hunt for the elders if no cat has any spare,” she mewed. “Don’t you remember how hard it rained last moon? How Whispering Breeze had to catch prey for all of us because she’s the only cat who doesn’t mind getting her fur wet?”
“Oh, sure,” Jaypaw mumbled.
“I couldn’t believe it when she caught fish!” Half Moon purred. “I’d never tasted fish before.”
“Prey isn’t running well, is it?” Jaypaw thought that was a safe comment to make.
Half Moon shook her head. “Maybe Stone Song isn’t wrong when he says we should think about leaving.” Sadness clouded her eyes. “I remember you said the same.”
“Right,” Jaypaw meowed, relieved to know which side of the argument Jay’s Wing had taken. “There must be somewhere with more prey, and no Twolegs and badgers to bother us.”
“You really think there’s a place like that for us?”
Jaypaw nodded slowly. After all, the Clans found a new home for themselves when the Twolegs destroyed the old forest.
Except that the Clans came here.
CHAPTER 17
By the time Jaypaw was full, there was still quite a lot of the blackbird left. “Do you want any more?” he asked Half Moon.
The white she-cat shook her head. “We could take it to Owl Feather,” she suggested. “Her kits are hungry, and growing fast.”
“Good idea.” Jaypaw wanted to see as much of these cats and where they lived before he went back to ThunderClan. If he went back…
He and Half Moon picked up the remains of the blackbird and headed farther up the hill toward the tunnel entrance. It seemed to be a popular daytime gathering place, like the clearing in the center of a camp. Several cats were scattered around it, dozing or sharing tongues; Jaypaw waved his tail at Dove’s Wing and Fish Leap as he passed, hoping he looked as if he knew where he was going.
He dropped back to follow Half Moon as she climbed farther up the slope until they broke clear of the trees. On the ridge, she dropped her chunk of blackbird and stood gazing out across the moorland. She pointed her muzzle at a faint purple line in the far distance.
“Stone Song thinks we should go that way,” she mewed.
As he put down his fresh-kill, Jaypaw felt the hair on his pelt start to rise and his paws tremble. Those were the mountains! Could these cats possibly be the ancestors of the Tribe? Glancing sideways at Half Moon, he saw that she was compactly built, with strong haunches that looked as if they would be good for climbing trees. She didn’t have the wiry build of a Tribe cat.
“What do you think it would be like to travel so far?” Half Moon asked.
“Hard.” Jaypaw tried to choose his words carefully. “The land that way could be very, very different from the land here.”
“How?”
“Sharp hills of stone that stretch up into the sky,” Jaypaw replied, his mind filled with memories of the journey he had taken to the mountains. “Huge birds, bigger than badgers, that have to be dragged out of the sky by many cats at once. Tumbling water, filling the air with spray even when there aren’t any clouds…”
“You sound as if you’ve been there already,” a new voice meowed.
Jaypaw stiffened and turned his h
ead to see the hefty gray figure of Stone Song standing behind them. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on Jaypaw.
“I…er…I had a dream,” Jaypaw stammered.
Stone Song’s ears flicked up, his interest intensifying. “Really? Did you dream anything else?”
“No.” Jaypaw could have told him a lot more, but he didn’t want to get any more tangled up in the gap between what he knew and what these cats thought he should know.
“But you think cats could live there?” Stone Song persisted.
“It wouldn’t be easy,” Jaypaw warned, thinking of the harsh life of the Tribe. “But maybe.”
Stone Song began to pace to and fro along the ridge, the tip of his tail twitching. When he began to speak, Jaypaw could hardly hear him above the roar of the monsters on WindClan territory, which had just begun to move their piles of earth again. He could even feel them in his paws, thrumming through the ground.
“We can’t stay here!” Stone Song growled. “Listen to those monsters! What if they come here and tear up this place, too?”
Jaypaw wanted to say, They won’t, but he remembered in time that he wasn’t supposed to know that.
“It’s wrong,” Stone Song continued, his blue eyes clouded. “Cats are being lost and prey is disappearing. There must be a better place to live.” He stopped pacing and sat down facing the purple line of the distant mountains, the wind flattening his pelt against his sides. “Maybe that place is in the stone hills you speak of. When I was kitted, my mother said the wind cried over the stones like a birdcall, giving me my name. Perhaps this means I must find a place where the wind sings over stones, and that will be our home.” Sorrow crept into his voice. “My son is never coming back. I cannot wait in this place anymore.”
Half Moon glanced toward him, compassion in her eyes. Then she looked at Jaypaw with her head tipped on one side. “Did you really dream of the stone hills?” she meowed. “You seem to see them so clearly.”
Jaypaw shuffled his paws. “There must be lots of different places out there.”