Dark River

Hollypaw flicked her tail. “There’s going to be a battle over them, or haven’t you heard?”

“Can we stop chatting and get on with the search?”

Heatherpaw snapped.

Breezepaw shot her an angry look. “What about them?”

“We may as well let them come with us,” Heatherpaw mewed. “How are we going to carry three kits by ourselves?”

Before he could answer, she headed for the tunnel nearest her. “We have to find those kits before any of our Clanmates gets hurt.”

“I agree!” Hollypaw leaped the wide river and glanced back at Jaypaw. “The water is about two foxtails wide,” she told him.

Jaypaw crouched, preparing to jump. Lionpaw could see his paws trembling. Let him make it! He tensed, ready to dive into the rushing river if he had to, but Jaypaw sprang high over the river, clearing it with a tail-length to spare.

As Lionpaw jumped after him, Heatherpaw ducked out of the tunnel she had been sniffing. “They haven’t been this way.”

Lionpaw crept into another dark opening, tasting the air.

No scent.

“This way!” Jaypaw was crouching in front of a narrow entrance, his whiskers twitching.

Hollypaw pushed past him and peered at the ground.

“He’s right! There’s a paw print.”

Lionpaw squeezed past her to look. Sure enough, there on the silty ground was a tiny fresh print. “They went this way.”

He glanced up and met Heatherpaw’s gaze. Fear glittered in her hazy blue eyes.

“Oh, Lionpaw,” she whispered. “What have we done?”

Chapter 19

“I’ll go first.”

Jaypaw hardly realized he had said the words out loud until he heard Breezepaw snort scornfully.

“You’re blind!”

“And you can see perfectly in the dark, I suppose!” Hollypaw snapped.

Jaypaw sensed Breezepaw bristle, but the WindClan cat didn’t argue. He was glad, because he was on the verge of turning tail and fleeing back along the tunnel to the forest, where rain pattered on leaves and earth and didn’t collect in cold stone tunnels to sweep away everything inside them…

All he could think of ever since he set foot in the first tunnel was racing for his life, terrified, with Fallen Leaves. Images filled his mind: the dark tunnel, the roaring of the water, the shock as the wave hit him and swept him up like a leaf caught in a storm, gasping for air and finding only water to breathe.

Don’t think about it! At least this time there would be no glimmers of light to distract him; instead he could focus on his instincts.

Lionpaw stepped out of the way to let Jaypaw pass. As Jaypaw brushed past him, he felt relief flooding from his brother’s pelt. He thinks I’ll do better in the dark than he will. I hope he’s right. Cold air blasted over him, making his whiskers tremble. But the breeze carried something else, whispers he felt rather than heard, flooding from deep inside the tunnel like the pulsing of blood in his veins. He padded into the tunnel, feeling the darkness swallow him up. This wasn’t darkness he was used to. Blind in the forest, he could feel the warmth of the sun on his pelt, smell the fresh tangs that flavored the air, hear the wind that rustled the leaves. This darkness was suffocating, musty, and cold, pressing against his fur and filling his nose and mouth. Nothing but blackness, thick as fur, soft as water, drawing him in.

The rock beneath his paws was covered in fine silt, the walls so narrow they grazed his pelt as he crept slowly forward.

“Can’t you go any faster?” Breezepaw’s mew was as jagged as the walls.

“Shh!” He tried to block out the fear pulsing from the other cats, and padded on, feeling the path slope downward, the tunnel widen, cold air jab his pelt as they passed under a slit in the roof. Was this really the right way? The draft flowing through the tunnel like water carried no kit scent, only forest air seeping through fissures in the roof.

Suddenly, a pelt brushed his flank.

Jaypaw bristled. “I’m leading, Breezepaw!” He barged the cat away.

“What are you talking about? I’m back here!” Breezepaw snapped from behind.

Hollypaw’s nose brushed his tail-tip. “There’s no one near you, Jaypaw.”

Surprised, Jaypaw tasted the air. A new scent bathed his tongue. Not a Clan scent, but still faintly familiar. He tasted the air again, his pelt pricking with unease as the other cat pressed against him, matching him step for step.

“I will walk with you, my friend, as you once walked with me,” the voice whispered in his ear.

Fallen Leaves! Jaypaw’s heart lurched. The memory of a great, black wave engulfing him made him stop dead. He fought the urge to turn and run, to pelt back to the cave and the forest and the safety of the open sky.

“I could not leave you here to walk alone, when you walked with me like a brother.”

Jaypaw blinked, trying to see. “Am I dreaming?”

“No,” Fallen Leaves whispered. “I have come to help. I know where the kits are.”

“Why have we stopped?” Breezepaw mewed crossly from behind.

Hollypaw’s nose flicked Jaypaw’s tail. “Are you okay?”