Jaypaw’s heart lurched. That would give WindClan control of the rest of the territory. It would no longer be a question of protecting their borders. They would be fighting for their lives. He longed for Firestar to tell him it would be all right, but the ThunderClan leader had plunged away, back into battle.
Jaypaw lifted his muzzle, finding his bearings. The lake breeze was blowing from behind him. The sound of Brambleclaw’s patrol screeched somewhere ahead. He pushed on through the undergrowth, heading for the noise, whiskers twitching, paws feeling gingerly ahead with each step. He couldn’t risk tripping and hurting himself. He had to warn the Clan deputy about WindClan’s RiverClan allies.
Birds were stirring in the trees, chattering anxiously as the sound of battle unsettled the forest. The air began to taste warm. Dawn must be on its way.
Jaypaw’s forepaws slipped as the ground dipped down steeply in front of him. Unsheathing his claws, he skittered down the slope, half running, half falling into a soft swath of ferns at the bottom. Only tail-lengths ahead, claws scraped against stone. Cats hissed and yowled, and the air smelled of blood.
And of fish. RiverClan were here already.
He’d found Brambleclaw’s patrol too late!
Jaypaw trembled as he sensed exhaustion flooding from his Clanmates. They couldn’t hold out much longer.
“Jaypaw?” Hollypaw was backing through the ferns toward him. “I thought I smelled you.” Her words were slurred, and her pelt was sticky with blood. She was as close to being beaten as he’d ever known. And yet determination still stiffened her battered body.
“What are you doing here?” she panted.
“I came to warn you that RiverClan have come to help WindClan.”
“Thanks, but we know,” she mewed grimly. Suddenly she pushed him back. “Stay out of the way!” Paws were padding toward them. Jaypaw smelled a RiverClan tom advancing.
A growl rumbled in Hollypaw’s throat. Jaypaw sensed the power and energy rippling beneath the RiverClan warrior’s pelt. It was an unfair match! Hollypaw was exhausted. He had to help her. Crouching beside her, he faced the tom and ripped at the ground with his claws.
Then he froze. Another scent was tainting the air.
Tawnypelt was fighting close to Brambleclaw. Was ShadowClan battling them too?
Paws pounded up the Twoleg path. More ShadowClan!
Jaypaw felt a wave of despair break over him. How could they possibly fight three Clans? Had StarClan given up on them entirely? He stumbled back into the ferns. There was nothing he could do now to save his Clan.
Fur brushed his pelt. Tawnypelt was beside him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Jaypaw lashed out with a forepaw, aiming for her muzzle, rage burning in his belly. “How can you attack your own kin?”
She blocked his blow with her paw. “We’ve come to help,” she hissed. “Hollypaw fetched us!” She shoved him farther back into the ferns. “Get back to the hollow and stay out of trouble!”
“What about Hollypaw?”
“Snaketail and Scorchpaw will help her.”
Jaypaw tasted the air. Two ShadowClan warriors were fighting alongside Hollypaw now, their scents mingling with the tang of fish-foul blood spraying from her RiverClan attacker. Her paws scrabbled against the path as she leaped forward and, with a yowl of rage and pain, the RiverClan cat pounded away into the forest.
“Go now!” Tawnypelt urged. She turned to head back into the fight, but Jaypaw pressed his paw to her flank.
“Firestar’s outnumbered by the WindClan border, and Dustpelt’s struggling beside the lake.”
“I’ll send warriors to help them,” Tawnypelt promised.
The ferns rustled as she hesitated. “Wait,” she hissed. “Take Mousewhisker with you. His eye’s hurt.” She leaped away and returned a moment later with the young warrior.
“I want to stay and fight,” Mousewhisker was protesting.
“Not with that eye,” Tawnypelt told him.
“I can see out of the other.”
“That’s not good enough.”
Jaypaw smelled blood. “You can come back when I’ve cleaned it up, and fight even better,” he promised.
Mousewhisker hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed. “But we have to be quick.”
Tawnypelt plunged back into battle.
“Come on,” Mousewhisker prompted.
Side by side, they ran along the edge of the Twoleg path, back toward camp. Mousewhisker pressed against him, steering him through the undergrowth spilling from the edge of the forest. Jaypaw’s head was full of the sounds of horror and spilling blood. The whole forest seemed alive with wailing and clawing and the ripping of fur.
All four Clans were fighting, and StarClan had told him nothing.
Chapter 15