The Forgotten Warrior

“Just looking for you,” Ivypool replied carefully. Tigerheart had seemed to lap up what Mapleshade was telling him; if he really agreed with her about destroying all the Clans, he was a dangerous enemy. “What’s this about Dawnpelt?” she asked. “Dovewing said you tried to warn her at the Gathering.”

Tigerheart’s gaze raked over her contemptuously. “Are you worried I said something about what happened with Flametail? You shouldn’t be. I haven’t told Dovewing anything—not for your sake, but because I don’t want her to know what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Ivypool hissed, her neck fur beginning to rise.

“Only because I stopped you,” Tigerheart growled.

Ivypool’s claws worked in the cold, dark grass. “It was a test! What could I do?”

“Nothing could justify you destroying my brother’s spirit,” Tigerheart retorted.

Ivypool knew that he was right. But there’s no way I can tell him. I have to hide the fact that I’m spying for ThunderClan. “So what’s all this about Dawnpelt?” she prompted.

Tigerheart hesitated. “Dawnpelt blames Jayfeather for Flametail’s death in the lake,” he meowed at last.

“That’s ridiculous!” Ivypool exclaimed.

Tigerheart shook his head, his hostility swallowed up in sadness. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a littermate,” he told Ivypool. “You want to blame anyone, anything. Not just a crack in the ice.”

Ivypool felt a claw-scratch of sympathy. I couldn’t bear it if I lost Dovewing. Then she reminded herself that Tigerheart had been listening to Mapleshade’s tirade. She couldn’t trust him. He doesn’t deserve pity!

“I don’t know what Dawnpelt thinks she can do against ThunderClan,” she went on aloud. “Or maybe you’re thinking of bringing her here?”

“That’s not up to me,” Tigerheart replied.

“I’m sure you could put in a good word for her,” Ivypool suggested mockingly.

Tigerheart didn’t react. Before Ivypool could say anything else, the ferns parted again and Hawkfrost emerged into the open.

“There you are, Ivypool!” he hissed. “Come with me. You’re keeping the other apprentices waiting.” He turned and padded off without waiting for a reply. Ivypool winced at being called an apprentice. But why should I care? she asked herself, shocked. Do I wish I were a Dark Forest warrior?

Padding after the dark tabby tom, Ivypool wondered if the Dark Forest had anything to do with Sol turning up. There’s something about Sol that I don’t trust. Especially with all the stories the elders tell about the time the sun vanished! Maybe the Dark Forest is plotting to hide the sun again.

Gathering her courage, Ivypool sped up until she was walking beside Hawkfrost. “Do you know Sol?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Hawkfrost twitched an ear. “Who?”

“Sol,” Ivypool repeated. “The cat who arrived in ThunderClan five sunrises ago. He was here before, when the sun vanished.”

“Ah,” Hawkfrost mewed. “That was after my time in RiverClan, but I know what happened. What about him?”

“I just wondered if he had… er… ever been here.”

Hawkfrost paused, narrowing his ice-blue eyes as he gazed at her. “So, you want to know if Sol is a true Clanmate?”

“Yes,” Ivypool mewed, trying not to flinch under that freezing gaze. “Something like that.”

The dark tabby tom hesitated before he replied, as if he were wondering how much to give away. “Sol is a welcome presence in ThunderClan,” he meowed.

That means Sol is very bad news, Ivypool realized. Too scared to ask any more questions, she followed Hawkfrost until he halted at the edge of a stretch of marsh. Four other cats were waiting there, belly-deep in mud and bristly grass. All of them turned as one, watching as Ivypool and Hawkfrost approached.

“Right,” Hawkfrost announced. “Fighting in difficult terrain…”

The sky was flushed with rose-pink the next morning as the dawn patrol set out. Drops of dew glittered on every stem of grass and sparkling cobwebs spread across the bramble thickets. Ivypool’s paws dragged as she forced herself through the forest. She was exhausted from the night’s training, and she was convinced that her fur still smelled of the stinking mud of the marsh.

“Stop sniffing,” Toadstep muttered. “It’s so annoying! Do you think you have greencough?”

“No, I just need to wash my fur,” Ivypool responded.

“Your fur is fine.” Millie, who was leading the patrol, glanced over her shoulder. “Concentrate on what we’re doing, please.”

Hazeltail, who had been scouting a few tail-lengths ahead, suddenly froze. A moment later she came creeping back through the long grass. “I heard a cat walking close to the border,” she murmured.