Chapter 9

Waterpaw bounded up the rocks after Ashbreeze, the smudgy gray she-cat leading him further down the gorge to the wide sandy pit where Windfur had taken him on his first day training with the pale brown tom. Waterpaw had gotten to know all his mentors in the moon that had passed since he started extra training. They were all quite friendly; Badgerstar had chosen well.
But another thought weighed at the back of his mind. Eventually he would have to leave his Clan, to help some faraway cats fight . . . whatever it was. It was hard not to doubt himself when he knew so little about it. He couldn't leave his Clan—and yet he had to. He wasn't even sure why he knew it was important, not when his mind was telling him ThunderClan already had four cats to defend them, all of them probably stronger and more capable than he was. But he just knew. He couldn't ignore it.
Waterpaw had once wondered how Owlstare had died, and planned to ask her the next time he saw her. Now, with a moon past and still no sign of her, that question was pushed to the back of his mind. He had dozens of more immediate questions he needed answered. But he couldn't ask any of them. Where was she? For a while you were coming every time I had a tiny doubt about the prophecy! Can't you talk to me once so I can ask you some questions?
For the first time he wondered whether StarClan even knew the answers to all of his questions. But before he had time to consider it, he realized that Ashbreeze was talking to him. He started as the gray she-cat spoke sharply.
"Waterpaw—Waterpaw! I asked you if you wanted to try the move. Were you even listening to anything I've been saying? How is staying awake ever going to help you if your head's going to be in the clouds the whole time you're on guard?" Most of the time Ashbreeze was a patient and friendly she-cat. But Waterpaw must really be stretching her patience today, and the young tom couldn't blame her. He'd been trying to pay attention, but he realized he hadn't really heard a word of what she said. Her comment about paying attention on guard really hit home, though, and he vowed to pay rapt attention from now on.
"Not really?" Waterpaw mewed apologetically. "I'm sorry!" he added. "I'm just thinking about of things. It won't happen again." At least, I hope it won't, he thought guiltily. In the passing days, he'd found it harder and harder to focus on his training. Today was by no means the first time, and if he was honest, he knew it probably wouldn't be the last.
Ashbreeze sighed exasperatedly. "See that it doesn't," she meowed wearily. "Now, I was saying . . . " She did a somewhat complicated twist in the air, snatching at the fur of an invisible enemy below her before landing on her paws. " . . . the move looks something like that."
Waterpaw nodded, watching her movements closely and trying to focus, but his mind kept wandering. He sighed. Ashbreeze was right—he'd be no use on guard if he couldn't pay attention. Sighing again, he forced the prophecy from his mind, fixing his eyes on Ashbreeze and trying to pay attention to her movements.
I hope I get some answers soon. This can't go on for much longer.

That night, for nearly the first time since the young tom started his training, Waterpaw slept. The sleeping felt surprisingly good. He'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to rest his mind and escape from his worries about the prophecy for a short time.
But it didn't last. The next thing Waterpaw knew, he was dreaming. He stood atop the Skyrock, shrouded in the same luminous mist that had surrounded him on the very first night when he'd learned about the prophecy. The night all this trouble started, he couldn't help thinking.
A patch of the fog cleared, and a pale gray tom appeared. Waterpaw blinked. Where was Owlstare? Is she angry at me? Or what if something's happened to her?
"Greetings," the tom meowed.
"If you don't mind my asking . . . who are you?"
My name is Shadowcloud. I was your mother's father."
"Oh . . .!" Now that Shadowcloud pointed it out, Waterpaw could recognize his own pale gray pelt and tufted ears in his grandfather's. The only major different was their eyes: Shadowcloud's were yellow-green, not blue.
"Where's Owlstare, though?" he asked. "Is she okay? Is she angry at me for something? What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything. And Owlstare is fine. She has somewhere else to be; that's all. She's visiting another cat tonight."
Who? Waterpaw wondered. But he didn't ask. The answer couldn't possibly be more important than the other questions he needed answered. Now was his chance; he didn't know how long it would be before he had another opportunity to ask the questions that had been nagging him for weeks. I'm going to forget something important, he guessed glumly.
"So what is this prophecy? Owlstare told me a couple of things about it, but what does it actually say?"
"That will be revealed to all five cats once you find the others," Shadowgaze meowed.
"But—who are the others, and what are their powers?"
"You'll find out when you meet them. Don't worry, you'll find them," he added before Waterpaw could protest.
Waterpaw bit back a sharp reply. He had wanted to get answers to some of his questions, but so far all he'd been told was "you'll find out when you get there"! The young apprentice sighed. He'd keep asking until he got an answer to at least one.
"Tell me this, then: why five? Why does the prophecy include exactly one SkyClan cat and four ThunderClan cats? There has to be a reason."
"There is." Shadowcloud took a deep breath. He looked Waterpaw in the eye. "You've been lied to."
"Lied to?" Waterpaw was taken aback. Who could have lied to him, and why? How big of a lie? he wondered nervously.
"Oh, not an intentional lie, of course." Shadowcloud flicked his tail dismissively. "Eagletalon didn't know any different, nor did the rest of the Clan. And Owlstare didn't have all the facts yet."
"What is it?" Waterpaw pushed, growing impatient. He hated when cats tried to build up to something without giving any clues as to what they were actually talking about!
"ThunderClan isn't alone. There are three other Clans just like it, on its borders. The prophecy involves one cat from each Clan—that's why there are five."
"Ohhh," Waterpaw breathed. That made so much more sense. He wasn't bothered that he had been "lied to"—Eagletalon had only told him what she knew. He was just glad he'd learned the truth before he reached these Clans. That could have been confusing.
"So what is the danger that I have to help save—"
As he spoke, something jabbed his side, and a voice called his name, penetrating the dream. "Waterpaw—Waterpaw, wake up!"
Waterpaw groaned and turned over lazily in his nest, back in the apprentices' den. Morning light slanted in through the entrance, illuminating the shadowy cave. For a moment he could have forgotten the dream entirely, but then it all came back in a jarring flood.
The one who had woken him was Briartail. The brown-and-white tom stood over him, still mewing, "Get up, it's time for training."
Waterpaw pushed himself to his paws, stretching in his nest. "I'm coming," he grunted. The young tom wasn't used to waking up in the morning—most of the time he was already awake. It's almost as if I'd forgotten how.
An odd pang pierced Waterpaw at the thought of losing sleep in his life altogether. It wasn't as if he thought he needed to. It's more like . . . like losing the ability to sleep would be like giving up the last trace of normal in me. Putting it into words made the odd feeling even stronger.
"Hey, Waterpaw, were you asleep?" Redpaw mewed curiously. Waterpaw jumped. He hadn't realized she was awake.
"Yeah." Waterpaw shrugged, running his tongue over his tousled fur. "It does happen occasionally."
"Oh." The silence grew awkward as Waterpaw continued to groom himself, the only sounds other than the echoing cries of the birds outside being the rasping of Waterpaw's tongue and the quiet snoring of Stormpaw. Fishleap and Robinfeather had been made warriors just over half a moon ago, leaving Waterpaw and his adoptive littermates alone in the den.
After a long stretch of awkward tension, Waterpaw finished grooming himself; he stood up and left the den, flicking his tail in a goodbye to Redpaw as he left.
Blinking in the bright sunlight, Waterpaw spotted Briartail near the fresh-kill pile and bounded down the rocky path to join him. The brown-and-white tabby looked up and nodded calmly as he saw Waterpaw approaching.
"Grab a bite to eat," he meowed. "I was just looking for something myself. We can start training in a few minutes."
Waterpaw prodded the small pile of birds with his muzzle, selecting a sparrow that was slightly less stale than the others. The fresh-kill pile hadn't yet been restocked for the morning; the hunting patrols would be back soon with more prey. Prey was getting scarcer and scrawnier, though, as leaf-bare approached, and he knew that fresh prey wouldn't always be a guarantee.
Waterpaw shuddered, knowing that by the time leaf-bare reached its peak, he would likely be trekking across the mountainside. He had never seen snow before, but he'd heard enough about it to know that a blizzard was not good traveling weather. Yet he was sure that if he waited until leaf-bare was over, these other Clans would likely already be dead by the time he got there, and he wasn't trained enough to go sooner.
The thought of these cats' lives somehow depending on Waterpaw was a sobering reminder of what he was dealing with. He didn't think the prophecy had felt any more real than it did at that moment. I can't do it! he wanted to wail. But he was sure he could. He had to, somehow. I will, he told himself.
Wishing he could swallow his fears along with the last of the sparrow, Waterpaw rejoined Briartail near the foot of the cliff. His mentor smelled of squirrel. "Ready to go?" the brown-and-white tom asked him.
Waterpaw nodded, pushing the sudden realization of the lives at stake from his mind as well as he could. His fears at least partially put at rest by the previous night's dream, he padded up the trail after his mentor.