The Fourth Apprentice

“I thought the lake was huge!” she gasped. “Not just that little bit of water right over there.” She felt a stab of disappointment. Why did the warriors make such a fuss about something that was not much bigger than a puddle?

“It usually comes right up to where we are now,” Lionblaze told her. He angled his ears forward to where a narrow strip of pebbles gave way to dried mud. “It’s only because of the drought that it’s shrunk so much.”

“The drought also means there haven’t been so many Twolegs around this greenleaf,” Cinderheart meowed. “So it isn’t all bad.” It sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as much as the apprentices.

“What if the lake shrinks away altogether?” Ivypaw asked.

“It won’t,” Cinderheart stated, though the look she exchanged with Lionblaze told Dovepaw that she wasn’t completely certain. “It’s bound to rain soon.”

“Now that we’re here, you might as well learn something about the territories,” Lionblaze meowed. “This is ThunderClan territory, of course, and over there”—he swept his tail around in an arc—“is WindClan.”

Dovepaw’s gaze followed his pointing tail to where smooth grassy moorland swelled up to meet the sky. “There aren’t many trees for hunting in,” she remarked.

“No, WindClan cats like open spaces, so their territory’s perfect for them,” Cinderheart told her. “ShadowClan cats like pine trees, so they chose the territory over on that side.”

Dovepaw and Ivypaw both examined the dark line of trees that bordered the lake on the other side of ThunderClan. “I’m glad I’m not a ShadowClan cat,” Ivypaw mewed.

Dovepaw concentrated for a moment, trying to memorize everything that the scene in front of her could tell her. She could see a group of cats on the ShadowClan side, trekking across the barren ground toward the distant lake, and she drew in a long breath to taste their scent. On the WindClan side, cats were returning to the shore, and Dovepaw breathed in their scent, too.

“Ivypaw,” she whispered, flicking her sister over one ear with her tail, “you should be picking up the scents of those cats over there. It’s all stuff we need to know.”

“What?” Ivypaw gave her a puzzled look, but before Dovepaw could say any more, she was interrupted by a loud exclamation from Lionblaze.

“Now what’s happening?”

Dovepaw looked across the brittle brown mud and spotted a patrol of ThunderClan cats close to the water’s edge. They seemed to be struggling, their backs arched and tails thrashing in the air. A couple of heartbeats later one of the warriors began racing back to the shore; as he drew closer she recognized Thornclaw.

“Trouble?” Lionblaze called.

“Berrynose and Spiderleg are stuck in the mud,” Thornclaw panted, pausing briefly. “I need a branch or something to get them out.”

“We’ll come and help,” Cinderheart told him, with a whisk of her tail to beckon the two apprentices. “Come on, you two. Bring your moss, and watch where you’re putting your paws.”

As she led them out onto the mud, Dovepaw glanced back to see Thornclaw pull a long stick out from under the roots of an elder bush at the edge of the bank. Before he could carry it off, Jayfeather erupted from the undergrowth, a bundle of herbs in his jaws.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he protested, spitting leaves everywhere. “Put it back!”

“Are you mouse-brained?” Thornclaw mumbled around the stick. “I need it. It’s only a stick.”

“It’s my stick.” Dovepaw was startled to see how worked up Jayfeather was, his eyes blazing and his neck fur bristling as if he was facing an enemy. “If you don’t bring it back in one piece, I’ll…I’ll…”

“Okay, I’ll bring back your stupid stick,” Thornclaw snarled. “Keep your fur on.”

He raced back across the mud with the stick in his jaws. Dovepaw and Ivypaw followed more slowly behind their mentors. Dovepaw was trying to lift each paw almost as soon as it touched the scorching ground. Her pads would be shriveled by the time she reached the water.

“Do you think the heat is getting to Jayfeather?” Ivypaw whispered. “Thornclaw’s right. It’s only a stick.”

Dovepaw shrugged. “Maybe it’s medicine cat stuff.”

“Yes, but what happens to us if our medicine cat gets bees in his brain?”

Dovepaw didn’t reply. They were drawing closer to the edge of the lake, and she could see the glistening bodies of dead fish lying here and there; she almost choked as the smell rolled out to meet her. Suddenly the hard ground vanished, replaced with glossy warm mud that sucked at her paws. Her feet sank deeper with every step, and the surface shivered, as if it were waiting hungrily for her next paw step.

“Stay there,” Lionblaze warned over his shoulder. Brownish-gray sludge flecked his pelt and clotted his belly fur. Just beyond him, Berrynose and Spiderleg were up to their haunches in mud.

The two warriors were thrashing helplessly, their pelts plastered to their sides by the brown slime. They didn’t seem to be sinking past their belly fur, but they couldn’t get a paw hold to drag themselves out.