Fading Echoes

Blackstar’s tail lashed the air. “In private?” He padded slowly around Brambleclaw and Jayfeather, his whiskers twitching audibly with distrust. “Why so secret?”

“Feel free to match my Clanmates with your own,” Firestar offered.

“How generous of you,” Blackstar sneered. “Russetfur! Littlecloud!” he called. “We have company.”

Jayfeather sensed stiffness in Russetfur’s limbs as she ambled across the clearing. Frailty oozed from her, and he could smell the scent of strengthening herbs on her breath. The ShadowClan deputy had grown old, and with a flash of surprise Jayfeather realized that she would probably not survive leaf-bare. Littlecloud hurried from the medicine den, paws still fragrant with the herbs he’d been mixing. Some cat had whitecough, by the smell of the coltsfoot and catmint on his fur.

Jayfeather let his mind roam the camp, searching the nursery first. No sickness there. Then he heard coughing from the apprentices’ den. Pinepaw was sick, but not fevered. The strong young apprentice would easily shake off his illness.

Jayfeather followed Blackstar, Firestar, and Brambleclaw into the ShadowClan leader’s den, nose wrinkling in readiness for the stench. He would never understand ShadowClan’s taste for rat.

“What do you want?” Blackstar was brisk, and Firestar matched his briskness with his own.

“I want you to give the Twoleg clearing back to ThunderClan.”

Shock pulsed from the ShadowClan leader. Russetfur’s claws scraped the floor.

“What?” Blackstar rasped.

“We gave it as a gift,” Firestar went on. “But you’ve pushed at our forest borders once too often.”

“That’s not true!” Russetfur hissed. “You just want extra hunting lands. Have your greedy warriors hunted the forest clean?”

“We have enough prey for ourselves,” Firestar meowed evenly. “But our forest can’t spare prey for ShadowClan hunting parties.”

Rage filled the den, so thick in the air that Jayfeather’s heart began to quicken and he felt as if there weren’t enough air to breathe.

“You’re accusing us of crossing borders?” Blackstar spat. “We were beginning to think ThunderClan had forgotten what scent lines mean.”

Jayfeather felt tension seize Brambleclaw, as though he was holding back from lashing out at the ShadowClan leader. “We want our land back,” he growled.

“It’s our land now,” Russetfur spat.

“Then we’ll take it from you by force,” Firestar warned.

Blackstar’s tail scraped the side of the den, his fur snagging on the thorns. “If you want a battle, you’ll have one.”

“Very well,” Firestar answered. “My warriors will be setting the new boundary tomorrow at dawn. It’s your choice whether to stop them.”

“Don’t play that game!” Blackstar hissed. “You’re the one leading your Clan into battle.”

“Toadfoot! Crowfrost! Ratscar!” Blackstar yowled as they crossed the clearing. “Escort them from our territory.” The rage in his voice set pelts prickling around the edge of the camp.

Paws itching with unease, Jayfeather followed Firestar, trying to keep his pace slow even though he wanted to run. The air in the camp had soured into enmity.

Toadfoot fell in beside him, knocking roughly against his shoulder. “Why can’t you mind your own business?” the ShadowClan warrior growled.

Jayfeather shifted away from his escort. Closing his eyes, he prayed that Ivypaw’s dream had been right.

Chapter 22

Ivypaw drew in a breath. The cold seared her tongue but the tang of fresh ThunderClan markers tasted warm. She puffed out her chest. Her Clanmates were lined along the border like hawks, poised to defend their new territory. Their breath billowed in the milky light of dawn, while mist drifted from among the dark trunks of ShadowClan’s forest and rolled over the grass toward them.

“Are you okay?”

Dovepaw was trembling beside her.

“Fine.” Dovepaw shifted her paws.

“Do you think ShadowClan will come?”

Dovepaw didn’t answer. She was staring into the trees, her ears pricked, claws unsheathed.

For a moment, Ivypaw wished Dovepaw weren’t there. She hadn’t had extra training from Hawkfrost. How in the name of StarClan could she fight ShadowClan warriors? Ivypaw suddenly pictured Dovepaw horribly wounded, with claw marks scarring her flanks. She shuddered. Whatever arguments they’d had recently, they were still littermates.

She curved her claws into the damp earth, dragging her thoughts back to the present. This was her battle. The new border was here because of her, and she was ready to defend it with her blood.

“Hold the line!” Lionblaze snarled at Blossomfall as the young tortoiseshell warrior took a step forward, whiskers twitching.

“I thought I heard something,” Blossomfall protested.

“Get back in line!” Firestar growled. He swung his head to stare along the ranks of warriors. “Stay inside the border.”

Blossompaw shuffled back into place.

Dovepaw flinched.

Someone was coming.