Eclipse

Jaypaw didn’t need to say another word. Cinderpaw was wading deeper into the lake. She gasped as the fur lapped her belly. “You told me it wasn’t cold!” she squeaked.

“You’ll get used to it!”

“The water’s pulling at my fur!” Cinderpaw called.

“You won’t have to wash for days!” Jaypaw joked. He hoped she didn’t hear the tremble in his mew.

“It’s over my back.”

“Keep going, but slowly.”

“It’s soaking through my pelt. I feel heavy as a stone!”

Jaypaw heard splashing. Had he sent her to drown?

“I can’t touch the bottom! Help!”

He rushed forward through the waves till the water soaked his chest. “Cinderpaw!” Blood pounded in his ears. “Come back!”

He could hear Cinderpaw flailing, and water spattered his nose. “What should I do?” She gave a spluttered cry; a wave must have washed straight into her mouth.

“Keep moving your legs!” Jaypaw yowled. “Imagine you’re running. Use your tail for balance.” Anything to keep your nose above water.

The splashing stopped suddenly.

“Cinderpaw!”

No sound. Only the gentle splash of the waves on the shore.

Had she been sucked into the depths?

“Cinderpaw! Are you okay?” he called more desperately.

“I’m swimming!” Cinderpaw’s reply made him gasp with relief.

“Really?”

“What do you mean, really?” Her reproachful mew was drowned as a wave slapped her muzzle and she started to cough.

“Keep moving your paws!” Jaypaw urged.

“I am!” Cinderpaw spluttered. “And it works. It really works! I’m floating!” She coughed again.

“Concentrate on swimming!” Jaypaw ordered. He could hear her rhythmic passage through the water. She was heading along the shore. He splashed through the shallows, keeping level with her.

Suddenly a yowl from the bank made him freeze. “Cinderpaw! What are you doing?”

Leafpool was calling from the beach.

“I’m swimming!” Cinderpaw splashed back toward the shore and padded, dripping, into the shallows beside Jaypaw.

“Jaypaw taught me!”

Jaypaw flattened his ears, waiting for Leafpool to lecture him. But her gaze warmed his pelt. She was intrigued, not angry.

“Go on,” she prompted.

“I figured the water would support her,” he ventured. “So she could strengthen her leg without putting too much weight on it.”

“And how does your leg feel now?” Leafpool asked Cinderpaw.

“It aches,” she mewed. “But it doesn’t hurt like it does when I walk on the ground.” She began to wade back out into the lake. “Can I try some more?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but plunged into the waves.

The shingle shifted as Leafpool reached Jaypaw. “Well done,” she murmured.

He dipped his head. “Cinderpelt couldn’t be a warrior, but Cinderpaw can.”

Leafpool ran her tail along his damp flank. “I hope so.”

Her mew became brisk. “You should come out now, Cinderpaw, before you’re too tired to walk back to camp.” She turned to Jaypaw. “Bring her back slowly; then get some rest. It’s half-moon time, and we’re going to the Moonpool tonight.”

Jaypaw scrambled upward, his claws scraping on the smooth boulders. A few more tail-lengths and I’ll reach the hollow. His paws were aching, heavy as stones, and his head buzzed with tiredness. He had walked Cinderpaw carefully back to camp as Leafpool had asked, and their Clanmates had gathered around them, shocked by Cinderpaw’s dripping pelt.

“You’re wet!” Sorreltail had meowed.

Hollypaw had paced around her friend, prickling with worry. “Did you fall in the lake?”

“I’ve been swimming!” Cinderpaw told them proudly. She was still limping, but she could walk without help now.

“Swimming!” Hollypaw sounded astonished.

“She’s going to swim every day to strengthen her leg,” Jaypaw explained. He guided his patient away from the noise of the clearing and settled her back into her nest.

“Thank you, Jaypaw.” Cinderpaw’s mew was heartfelt.

“Being a warrior is so important to me.”

Jaypaw nodded. “I know.”

“Hurry up!” Leafpool’s mew jolted him back to the present.

He scrambled over the rim of the hollow, a rush of cool mountain air flattening the fur on his face. Following Leafpool, he padded down the well-trodden path to the Moonpool. As usual, the smooth stone, dimpled by the paw steps of ancient cats, felt warm and comforting beneath his paws.

Barkface had hardly spoken during the journey. Leafpool had been no better. The tension between her and the WindClan medicine cat had made the air crackle as though a storm were brewing. Barkface hadn’t brought Kestrelpaw with him, claiming the WindClan apprentice had hurt his paw on a sharp thorn. But Jaypaw could sense a defensive shield around Barkface, as though he’d wrapped himself in brambles. He guessed that the WindClan medicine cat wanted to protect his apprentice from any difficult questions Leafpool might ask about the prey-stealing.

Mothwing, Willowpaw, and Littlecloud seemed oblivious to the tension.

“Next time we come, it’ll be leaf-fall,” Mothwing commented.

Willowpaw shivered. “I’ll miss the warm nights.”