Fading Echoes

“No, no!” Lionblaze called to his apprentice. “If you climb up this side of the trunk I’ll see you and know you’re up there!”

Dovepaw slithered down the bark. The oak tree was shiny with rain. Drizzle had been soaking the forest all morning, the rainclouds so low that they seemed to drag over the treetops.

“Are you sure this is the right weather for a tree-fighting session?” Cinderheart queried. She was sitting beside her apprentice, Ivypaw. Both cats looked small, their fur plastered to their pelts.

“It’s the best weather,” Lionblaze insisted. “If they can cling to the branches when they’re slippery, they’ll find it mouse-easy when it’s dry.”

ThunderClan cats were the best climbers among the Clans because they hunted their prey among densely growing, thick-leaved trees; Firestar had recently decided that it was foolish not to take advantage of that skill in battle. From now on, all battle training would include tree-climbing practice, as well as techniques for attacking from among branches.

“Now climb up again,” he instructed Dovepaw. “Imagine I’m a ShadowClan patrol.”

Ivypaw’s whiskers twitched. “A whole one?”

“Concentrate!” Lionblaze was in no mood for silliness. He was hungry and wet and frustrated. What did training apprentices have to do with fulfilling the prophecy? Wait, Jayfeather had said. But Lionblaze was tired of waiting.

Cinderheart flashed Lionblaze a puzzled look. “I’ll guide them up the tree and tell them what to do,” she offered.

Lionblaze hesitated. He didn’t like the thought of Cinderheart climbing trees after the accident that had nearly crippled her as an apprentice.

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll be careful!” She nosed Ivypaw toward the trunk of the oak and watched her scoot up to the lowest branch. Then she nodded to Dovepaw. “You next.”

Dovepaw darted behind the trunk. She reappeared a few moments later on a branch above his head. “Didn’t see me that time!” she called.

He looked up, surprised by her speed. “Very good.”

Cinderheart was scrambling after them. “This is an excellent branch for dropping from.” She peered down at Lionblaze. “If you land squarely on his shoulders, he’ll break your fall, and the surprise will give you long enough to get in a few good moves before he realizes what’s happened.”

“Can I try it?” Ivypaw mewed eagerly.

“I doubt if he’d be very surprised,” Dovepaw pointed out. “He’s staring straight at us.”

“Let’s try climbing onto the next branch,” Cinderheart suggested.

“I’ll wander around,” Lionblaze offered.

“Concentrate on where your paws go,” Cinderheart warned the apprentices. Leaves rustled over Lionblaze’s head. “The bark’s slippery. Use your claws to grip. Watch out!”

Too late. Ivypaw slipped from the branch with a yowl of surprise and plunged down straight onto Lionblaze.

He staggered, hoping his broad shoulders had broken her fall. “Are you okay?”

She scrambled off him and jumped to her paws. “Sorry!”

The shock on her face brought a purr to his throat, banishing his frustration. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be surprised, not you!” he teased.

Pelt ruffling with embarrassment, Ivypaw scrabbled back up the tree.

“Careful, Dovepaw!” Cinderheart warned. “That branch is too narrow. It won’t hold your weight!”

Wood cracked high overhead.

Heart lurching, Lionblaze looked up. “Dovepaw!”

The gray apprentice was gripping a thin, broken branch halfway up the tree. “I can’t hang on!” she wailed. Her paws were sliding down the narrow strip of wood.

“Try to land on the branch below!” Cinderheart called up to her as Dovepaw reached the tip of the branch and tumbled down onto the next. She scrabbled for a grip, yelping as she fell again.

“Keep your claws out!” Lionblaze yowled.

“I am!” Dovepaw cried as she slid from branch to branch like a pebble bouncing down a slope. “I can’t get a grip.”

Lionblaze relaxed. The branches slowed Dovepaw’s fall until she plopped out of the tree like a pigeon landing clumsily. She stood up and fluffed out her fur.

Lionblaze shook his head. “When Jayfeather told me it was going to rain today, he didn’t warn me it was going to rain cats!”

Dovepaw brightened as she saw the glimmer of amusement in his eye. “I’ll do better this time,” she promised, dashing back to climb the tree once more.

Lionblaze padded away through the trees. He could hear the leaves rustling overhead as Cinderheart guided them from one branch to another.

While he was waiting for their “surprise” attack, he decided to hunt. With leaf-fall setting in, any extra prey would be welcomed in camp. He sniffed among the rain-soaked roots of the oak. Fresh squirrel dung made him wrinkle his nose. He climbed silently around the wide trunk, moving snakelike over the roots twining from the ground. The scent dipped between them and ran a few tail-lengths along a dried streambed fracturing the forest floor.

Lionblaze froze.