Dark River

Welcome, Jaypaw. The stone beneath his paws was dimpled, worn into a pathway by countless paw steps.

Water suddenly lapped his paws. They were only halfway down the slope! Tingling with surprise, he followed Leafpool around the water’s far-reaching edge and settled on the rock beside her. He heard Leafpool’s breath stir the pool and then deepen as she fell into dream-sleep.

The other cats lay down, their fur brushing the rock, and soon the hollow echoed only with the sound of breath and wind upon water. Willowpaw was the last to settle. Jaypaw waited while she slid into sleep. Focusing on her mind, he leaned forward and touched the Moonpool with his muzzle.

Instantly, he was swept away in a torrent of seething water.

He struggled and flailed with his paws, his heart bursting with terror as he gasped for air. He looked up and saw a stormy sky clouding above him and all around, churning water that stretched to endless horizons. Then he saw Willowpaw’s head bobbing above the waves. She was swimming, her eyes filled with determination, her jaws clutching a mouthful of herbs as her paws churned. Jaypaw clutched at the water, struggling to keep his head above the surface. The water sucked at his hind paws, dragging him down. Water filled his mouth and nose. Splashing, coughing, he tried to claw his way back into the safety of consciousness.

He opened his eyes. He was lying on damp grass. Trees leaned over him, their leaves blocking out the sun, and ferns crowded around him. Jaypaw struggled to his paws and looked around. Was this Willowpaw’s dream or his own?

“You must hurry!” A husky mew hissed beyond the ferns.

Jaypaw stretched warily onto his hind legs and peered over the ferns. A brown tom, stiff with age, was nudging Willowpaw forward. “You must leave,” he meowed.

“What about my herbs?” Willowpaw dug her claws into the grass. “You know I can’t leave them behind, Mudfur.”

“Take what you can, find the rest when you get there.”

“Get where?” Willowpaw’s voice sounded close to panic.

“There is no time for questions,” Mudfur mewed. “If you stay, the Clan will be destroyed.”

“But there’s nowhere to go!”

Jaypaw dropped back onto four paws. There was something wrong in RiverClan. Something very wrong.

“Spying again!”

Jaypaw spun around. He had heard this voice before, and it had lost none of its mocking sharpness.

“I don’t see how you can accuse me of spying,” he objected, “when you keep turning up in all my dreams!”

“But they’re not your dreams, are they?” Yellowfang stared at him, her amber eyes cloudy, her thick coat as unkempt as ever.

Jaypaw felt a rush of anger. “I’m dreaming, so it’s my dream!”

“Clever,” croaked Yellowfang, “but not honest. You intended to trespass on Willowpaw’s dream the moment you closed your eyes.”

“If you knew what I was going to do, why did you let me do it?” he demanded.

Yellowfang turned her face away.

“You can’t stop me, can you?” Jaypaw felt a rush of delight, like a bird escaping grasping claws. “I have the power of the stars in my paws!”

Yellowfang swung her head around and glared at him. “Do you really believe that?”

“Are you telling me it’s not true?”

“Just tell me this—what exactly do you have the power to do?”

Jaypaw stared at her.

“You have no idea, do you?” she pressed.

Jaypaw’s whiskers twitched. “Do you?”

Yellowfang blinked slowly but did not reply.

“I have this power for a reason!” Jaypaw insisted.

“Then find out what that reason is before you use it!”

Yellowfang turned away. As she disappeared into the ferns, Jaypaw woke up.

Blackness pressed in on him. He was blind once more.

Beside him, Leafpool was stretching. “Did you dream?” she yawned.

“Yes.” Jaypaw scrambled to his paws and whispered in her ear, “About RiverClan.”

“Tell me once we have left the others.” She jerked away from him. “Mothwing! Is everything okay?”

What, in her dreams about hunting squirrels and chasing butterflies?

Jaypaw had long since guessed that there was something wrong with Mothwing’s connection with StarClan, some secret that Leafpool shared but would not betray.

He heard grit skidding across the rock. Willowpaw had leaped to her paws. “Mothwing!” Jaypaw could tell the young cat was trying to stop her voice from trembling. “We have to go home at once!”

“What did you see in your dream?” Anxiety was pricking from Leafpool’s pelt; Jaypaw could feel it like lightning in the air.

They had left the others at the WindClan border and were heading up the slope toward the forest. The wind was chilly and carried the freshness of unfurling leaves. Jaypaw guessed that dawn was close.

“RiverClan is in trouble,” he announced. “I saw Willowpaw swimming in a huge lake, bigger than this one. She said RiverClan have to find a new home and she was talking to some old cat called Mudfur—”