Clan Problem
Hollypaw turned and stamped out of the cave. Pebbles clacked under her paws as she bounded down the rocks to the clearing. Firestar and the others hadn't been listening to her about Riverclan's problem. Brightheart even put Mousefur—still weak from greencough—in a drill if they were attacked at night.
"Wait!"
Hollypaw glanced backward.
Leafpool was hurrying after her. "I can see you're upset."
Hollypaw turned on her. "Why won't any of you listen?"
"You must remember," Leafpool soothed, "we all have more experience than you. You have to trust us to know what's right."
"Starclan would want us to help Riverclan," Hollypaw mewed.
"You can't be sure of that." Leafpool blinked. "I know you're worried about Willowpaw, but you're training to be a warrior now. It's not appropriate to have such close friends in other clans."
Hollypaw glared at her. This isn't about Willowpaw. This is about the future of all four clans! She searched Leafpool's gaze and found only a gentle concern. I'm wasting my breath!
"Go and find Brackenfur," Leafpool suggested. "He's heading for the training hollow."
"I know where he is," Hollypaw hissed through gritted teeth.
"I'm sure he must be expecting you." Leafpool touched Hollypaw's cheek with her nose, then padded away.
Hollypaw flexed her claws. If she could find out exactly what was happening in Riverclan, perhaps then she could convince Firestar to help, and the clans wouldn't need to fight. She had to talk to Willowpaw.
She had to talk to Willowpaw.
She darted through the entrance tunnel, thorns scraping her pelt. Outside the camp, she glanced around. No one was there. She hurried into the trees, away from the training hollow, and headed up the ridge toward the Windclan border.
"Squirrel!"
Birchfall's excited yowl pierced the air. Hollypaw dived into a patch of ferns, pressing her belly to the ground. Paw steps were pounding toward her. She peeped through the green fronds and saw Birchfall and Ashfur skidding down the slope. Lionpaw was racing behind them, his tail fluffed out. She ducked back into the foliage and held her breath. The ferns rustled around her as the patrol whisked past less than a tail-length away.
Hollypaw screwed her eyes shut. Don't let them see me!
Heart pounding, she heard their paw steps fade into the forest. Relief washed her pelt and she crept from her hiding place.
"Going somewhere?"
Hollypaw jumped from her hiding spot, turning to face an amused Nightshimmer. "Aren't you suppose to be in the Training Hollow with Jaypaw?" she hissed.
"He's having a mock fight with Redstrike." She paused, ears erect. A breeze hit her whiskers. "You haven't talked to your father yet?"
Hollypaw lashed her tail. "He won't listen. They're all busy preparing themselves for a battle that might not happen. I have to go there to see if we can help."
"Then go ahead. The rain will hid your scent."
Hollypaw looked at her, astonished. "You won't stop me?"
"Not when you are in conflict. I'll pretend I didn't see you. Just know that you're not able to help everybody and watch out for a dog. Make sure you return without causing trouble for both Thunderclan and Riverclan or I will have to tell them."
Hollypaw, excited, hurried to the border. "Thank you, Nightshimmer!"
-Riverclan Territory-
Suddenly, a yowl sounded ahead. Hollypaw froze and sniffed the air. Fresh warrior scent. A hunting party?
She dropped into a crouch, trembling with cold and fear as she spotted the stone-colored pelt of Mistyfoot through the reeds. The Riverclan deputy was stalking something. Hollypaw backed away as Mistyfoot drew nearer. She pressed herself against the earth, hoping that her drenched pelt was too wet to betray her scent.
Suddenly, Mistyfoot sprang forward, paws outstretched. A moment later she straightened, her whiskers twitching with triumph and a water vole dangling from her jaws. Hollypaw sighed with relief as the Riverclan deputy turned and padded away. Mistyfoot looked thin and her usually glossy pelt was dull. Clearly, Riverclan was going hungry.
Hollypaw waited a few moments before she began to pad on gingerly. The island was not far ahead now, the tree-bridge distinct on the shoreline. How would she cross it without being seen? She stiffened herself against the anxiety that nagged at her bones. I've come this far. . . Slipping from the cover of the reeds, she darted over the marshy shore and dived among the tangle of roots at the foot of the tree-bridge. Pressing herself into them she scanned the shore, blood pulsing in her ears. She sniffed the air.
No sign of any cat.
Cautiously, she clambered up through the roots and hauled herself onto the tree-bridge. Keeping low, she crept along the trunk, gripping the slimy bark with her claws. Hardly daring to breath, she pricked her ears, listening for an alarm call. She reached the other side, shaking with relief, and slid down through the branches onto the shore.
Which way now?
This wasn't a Gathering. She couldn't just push through the undergrowth and head for the clearing. She let out her sense. She could sense a group of cats in the island. Willowpaw should be there but how to go to her without getting caught.
Hope tingled in her paws when she realized that, not far along the shore, the beach was overtaken by undergrowth. The trees reached the water here, their roots snaking into the lake, and ferns and brambles tumbled over the lip of the island. She continued, hiding.
Suddenly, the undergrowth ended. Rocks stretched ahead of her, rough and flat and black against the water. They reached into the lake, forming a small causeway that ended in a rocky outcrop, jutting up from the water. Hollypaw lifted her head, ears pricked, and tasted the air. She could hear the sounds and feel the presences of Riverclan drifting from the center of the island: queens talking, kits mewling, an elder complaining about ticks. No sound of warriors or apprentices, though.
Hollypaw frowned. At the Gathering, the island had been teeming with Riverclan cats. Where were the rest of them now?
No time to worry about that!
Where was Willowpaw?
Hollypaw shivered. She was freezing. Her wet pelt clung to her. She was far from home. Panic started to rise in her chest. What if she couldn't find her friend? She should've taken note of her friend's presence like Silver Eye had suggested for each cat when a Gathering comes; but there was just too much going on.
Then she heard a squeal. A kit was wailing somewhere up ahead. "That hurt!"
The soft mew of a queen soothed it. "It'll only hurt for a bit."
Hollypaw could smell herbs. Someone was treating the kit with marigold!
She crept out onto the rough, flat causeway, following the scent. It was coming from the rocky outcrop. Crouching lower than ever, Hollypaw slithered around the edge and peered through a gap in the stones.
"We'll need more marigold soon."
Willowpaw!
The Riverclan medicine cat apprentice was crouched in a hollow in the heart of the outcrop, crushing leaves against the rough stone floor with her paws. "The kits keep getting pine needles stuck in their pads."
Mothwing sat on a ledge nearby, licking herbs into the mewling kit's paw. A white she-cat held the kit in her paws as it struggled against Mothwing's lapping tongue.
"Try to keep her out of the pine needles, Icewing," Mothwing advised.
"It's not easy," the queen sighed.
"I know," Mothwing agreed. "I'll come back to the nursery with you and sweep some of the needles away from the entrance."
The queen lifted the kit by its scruff and began to carry it, still mewling, out from the sheltering rocks and along the causeway that led back to the island. Mothwing followed her.
When she was sure there was no other cat close enough to hear, Hollypaw hissed through the gap in the rock. "Willowpaw!"
The medicine cat apprentice froze. "Who's that?"
"It's me, Hollypaw!"
Hollypaw quickly clambered back around the jutting rocks and slipped into the hollow beside Willowpaw. There was more space inside the outcrop than she had imagined. It was a cave, hollowed out by countless moons of wind and water, protected from the wind and rain by a low roof.
Willowpaw crouched at the back, her eyes round with shock. "What are you doing here?"
"I promised I'd come," Hollypaw reminded her. "Does anyone know you're here?"
Hollypaw shook her head. "Only Nightshimmer." Then she tensed. Mothwing's scent was wafting into the cave.
"Hollypaw?" Mothwing's mew was sharp.
Hollypaw spun around.
"I came back for poppy seeds." The Riverclan medicine cat was standing in the cave entrance. Her bones looked sharp beneath her pelt. "Hollypaw! What are you doing here?"
"I had to do something!" Hollypaw mewed desperately. "Thunderclan are getting ready to fight Windclan. Everyone's scared about what will happen if Riverclan is driven out of its home."
Mothwing looked at her. "Riverclan is not going to be driven out of anywhere."
"How can you be sure?" Hollypaw gazed back at her thin frame, unconvinced. "You're half starved, and you're still living on the island."
Willowpaw brushed against her. "It won't be for long."
Hollypaw glanced at the rows of herbs carefully stacked against the cave wall. It looked like Riverclan was planning to be here for some time. "But you've brought everything from your old camp," she pointed out.
The Riverclan medicine cat sighed. "You'd better show her."
"Really?" Willowpaw looked surprised.
"Now?" Mothwing nodded. "Just don't let yourselves be seen."
Willowpaw nodded and streaked from the cave. Hollypaw hurried after her, pelt ruffled with curiosity. She followed Willowpaw across the tiny causeway and back around the shoreline.
"Let's swim across to the mainland," Willowpaw mewed. "It'll be easier to stay out of sight."
Hollypaw's wet fur spiked in alarm, but she had just swam with her brothers that night. "Alright."
Willowpaw lead her to a shoreline near Riverclan territory, close to the marsh, and padded into the water. Hollypaw followed, keeping her head up. They reached the other side, their paws touching the pebbles.
"Wait here."
The medicine cat apprentice pushed her way among some clumps of grass that grew half in, half out of the water. "Here." Before Hollypaw could complain, she scooped up a pawful of brown muck and smeared it over Hollypaw's pelt.
Hollypaw gagged. "What's that?" The goo clung to her fur, sticky and smelly.
"Otter dung," Willowpaw mewed. "It should hide your ThunderClan scent."
Hollypaw coughed. "You're kidding!"
"You can wash it off later," Willowpaw hissed. "Just be quiet and keep still."
She smeared another few pawfuls along Hollypaw's flank. Hollypaw began to wish she had never come. Then Willowpaw reared up and scanned the shore on both sides of the lake.
Willowpaw was lead her up a slope. There were trees here and the undergrowth grew thick and lush. The slope grew steeper until Hollypaw found she was scrambling up a red sandy cliff. She followed Willowpaw as the Riverclan apprentice leaped up and up, using rocks that jutted from the earth to haul herself higher. At last the two cats clawed their way onto the grassy bank at the top. Panting, Hollypaw looked down. The lake shone far below, glimmering through the fresh green leaves.
"Where are we going?" Hollypaw panted.
"You'll see in a moment." Willowpaw headed up the bank and disappeared into a swath of long grass.
Hollypaw hurried after her.
"Look." Willowpaw had stopped.
Hollypaw crept to her side as Willowpaw gently parted the grass. She peered through. Below them, a wide stream followed the line of the slope. An island rose in the middle, parting the water abruptly so that eddies swirled where the stream was forced to divide. The island was crowded with small trees and bushes, green amid the rolling brown water.
"That's our old camp," Willowpaw explained.
Hollypaw heard the clatter of rocks and stiffened. "What's that?"
"The warriors are working."
"Working?" Hollypaw blinked.
Suddenly, she spotted the pelts of Riverclan warriors and apprentices weaving through the grass on either side of the stream. On the near side, she recognized the apprentices Pouncepaw and Minnowpaw. They were helping Reedwhisker and Voletooth to shift stones, pushing them toward the stream and tipping them over the edge so that they fell with a loud splash into the water.
"What are they doing?"
"Blocking the stream to make it deeper and wider," Willowpaw replied.
Blackclaw, a muscular, broad-shouldered black tom, called from the far side of the stream. "Hurry! Grab what you can!" He stood near the water's edge, calling orders to warriors who were bravely leaping across the channel with wads of mossy bedding dangling from their jaws.
"We need to rescue as much stuff as we can," Willowpaw explained. "The pine needles on the island are no good for making the nests weatherproof."
"But why are you doing all this?" Hollypaw couldn't understand what was going on. The old camp looked safe enough, almost as well protected by the divided stream as Thunderclan was by the cliffs of stone.
A warning yowl sounded upstream and Minnowpaw came hurtling down the bank. "They're coming!"
Every Riverclan cat instantly dropped whatever they were carrying or pushing and scrambled away from the island, heading down toward the lake.
Hollypaw's fur bristled. "What's the matter?"
"You'll see," Willowpaw mewed.
Tramping through the grass, along the far side of the stream, came a gang of Twoleg kits. They were sweeping jagged branches through the grass and mewling loudly to one another. As Hollypaw watched, the largest of the kits hopped from the shore and onto a stone that barely broke the surface of the stream, then onto another and another. Balancing precariously on one leg, it leaned toward the island, and began to poke the bushes with its stick. The other kits yelped their approval and encouraged him by waving their hairless paws in the air.
Hollypaw stared at her friend in dismay.
Willowpaw lashed her tail. "Now do you see why we had to leave?"