Sign Of The Moon

Brackenfur flicked her ear with this tail. “Then we’ve all learned something. Firestar will be pleased when I report to him in the morning.” Waving his tail for the rest to follow him, the warrior rose to his paws and headed out of the nest, with Sorreltail beside him.

Lionblaze found himself padding at the back of the patrol, matching his paw steps with Ivypool’s. “Good work!” he mewed, briefly touching her shoulder with his tail.

Ivypool gave her chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks. “Thanks.”

“You…you learned most of those skills in the Dark Forest, didn’t you?” Lionblaze ventured.

Ivypool’s head lifted sharply; there was a defensive look in her eyes. “Yes, but I would never use them against my own Clanmates.”

“Of course not,” Lionblaze reassured her. “I just meant that you’re getting good, that’s all.”

“I…I do feel bad about using my Dark Forest skills as a ThunderClan warrior,” Ivypool admitted, leaping over a fallen tree branch. “It’s as if I’m betraying the training I’ve received from the Clan.”

Lionblaze blinked, remembering his own nights of training with Tigerstar, and how he still used moves and tactics that he had learned from the murderous Dark Forest warrior. “Any source of training is a good one,” he mewed aloud. “A battle is a battle, and winning is everything.”

Ivypool nodded, though she still seemed uncertain. Thinking over what he had just said, Lionblaze began to wonder if any other cats were being trained by hidden sources. “Have you ever seen any other ThunderClan cats in the Dark Forest?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

He was aware of Ivypool tensing beside him, and a few heartbeats passed before she answered. “We’re kept separate,” she replied. “I’ve seen a WindClan cat—the one who was injured, Antpelt—but mostly I train with other Dark Forest cats. I think they keep us apart deliberately.”

It was obvious to Lionblaze that she didn’t feel comfortable talking about the Dark Forest. Seeing the hollow not far away among the trees, he gave Ivypool a nod and a wave of his tail, releasing her to run ahead of him. Padding more slowly after her, he thought over what she had said. Suddenly he halted, a chill running through his pelt.

She didn’t answer my question! She never said she hadn’t seen any other ThunderClan cats in the Place of No Stars.

Lionblaze’s chill grew stronger.

Who else among my Clanmates is being trained by the cats who want to destroy all the Clans?

Chapter 21

Dovewing’s ears ached from the snow that blocked them; snow filled her eyes and froze her paws until she felt as if they were burning. “I hate snow,” she grumbled. “I’d give anything to be back in the forest.”

“So would I,” Foxleap agreed.

Dovewing had noticed that the Tribe cats moved far more easily through the landscape. They seemed to know instinctively where there were rocks to jump onto, even when they were covered by a thin layer of white. Admiring Splash’s easy grace, Dovewing forgot to watch where she was putting her paws. The snow gave way underneath her and she felt herself sinking into a drift.

“No! Help!” she yowled, flailing her paws as if she was trying to swim through the powdery white flakes.

Crag bounded back toward her and bent over, fastening his teeth into her scruff. Just as if I was a kit! Dovewing thought crossly, scrabbling for a paw hold as the cave-guard hauled her out and set her down again on solid rock.

“Thanks!” she gasped.

Crag’s eyes gleamed with humor. “Anytime,” he purred. “Just ask.”

“How much farther do we have to go?” Foxleap asked, flicking his ears to shake snow off them.

“You see the pine tree over there?” Swoop pointed with her tail. “The one blasted by lightning? That’s the next border marker.”

“When we get there, we’ll have covered half the border,” Crag added. “Then we can head back. We’ll keep looking out for prey, though.”

Dovewing sighed as she looked at the withered pine tree. It was halfway up the opposite side of the valley; it looked a long, long way away.

“Prey!” Foxleap muttered into her ear. “Only the skeleton of a squirrel could live in that blackened tree.”

In spite of her discomfort, Dovewing let out an amused mrrow. “At least we could chew on the bones!”

Following Crag, the patrol slogged down into the valley, across a frozen stream, and up the far slope. They had almost reached the tree when Dovewing heard a yowl of alarm, followed by the screeches of a cat in pain. Wings beat furiously, and paws thudded on hard stone. For a heartbeat she froze. Obviously her companions hadn’t heard anything, but the sounds went on, growing louder and more agonized. Spinning around, Dovewing stared across the valley.

Are Tribe cats in trouble?

Much farther up the slope on the other side, she spotted a knot of cats thrashing in the snow. A huge gold-brown bird hovered over them, striking out with hooked talons.

“Look!” Dovewing called.