The Fourth Apprentice

Putting the tension out of his mind, Jayfeather returned to the shore and located his stick, carefully wedged under some elder roots a tail-length or so from the bank. Settling down in the shade of the elder bush, he ran his paw along the scratch marks. Faint whispers wreathed around his ears, and he recognized some of the voices from the time he spent with the ancient clan. He strained to hear what they were saying, but they were too quiet. A pang of sadness pierced him, like a thorn, that he had left them behind. They had been his friends, once—and he had helped to send them away from the lake forever. The spirits of the ancient cats seemed to be all around him now, brushing their tails along his pelt, mingling their scents with that of the dry lake.

What do you want? Jayfeather asked, sensing their anxiety.

But there was no reply.

Yowls from the edge of the water distracted him. Shoving the stick back under the roots, he crawled out from under the elder bush and rose to his paws.

“This is WindClan’s part of the lake!” Jayfeather stiffened as he recognized Breezepelt’s voice. “Get back to your own side.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Icecloud protested. “Our territories end three tail-lengths from the shore.”

“The shore is where the water starts,” Breezepelt growled. “And that makes this part of the lake WindClan territory. So get your tails out of here!”

“Do you want to make us?” That was Berrynose’s voice; Jayfeather could imagine the cream-colored warrior squaring up for a fight, his fur bristling and his teeth bared in a snarl.

A fight is the last thing we need! Jayfeather bounded forward, his belly fur brushing the dust and loose pebbles of the dry lakebed. “Stop!” he yowled, thrusting himself between the two warriors. “What value does the lakebed have to any Clan?”

He heard an enraged snarl and scented Breezepelt nose to nose with him. “You would say that, half-Clan cat!”

Jayfeather was jolted by the wave of hatred coming from the WindClan warrior. He took a step back, his nostrils flaring. “What has that got to do with—” he began.

Breezepelt pushed his face even closer to Jayfeather’s. “Your mother betrayed my father as well as her Clan,” he hissed. “You have no right to be a medicine cat. No right even to live among the Clans. I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done! Never!”

Jayfeather was too stunned to reply. He was aware of Berrynose bristling next to him. “I’ll claw him for you if you want, Jayfeather!” the young warrior growled.

Jayfeather shook his head. What would that change? He heard paw steps approaching and scented Ashfoot, the WindClan deputy.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Breezepelt replied. “Just a misunderstanding about getting to the water.”

Ashfoot turned to Jayfeather. “You should advise your warriors to keep to your own side of the lake,” she warned. “To avoid future misunderstandings.”

Jayfeather wasn’t about to quarrel, not with Breezepelt breathing venom at him. “Very well,” he mewed, dipping his head to the deputy. Anger rose inside him as he picked up the smug feelings of triumph radiating from Breezepelt. “Come on,” he added to the ThunderClan patrol. “We’re doing no good here.”

He could feel the fury of the ThunderClan cats as they padded beside him toward their own territory.

“I can’t believe that mangy WindClan cat!” Icecloud spat. “How dare he tell us where we can and can’t go?”

“You should have let me get him!” Berrynose snarled.

“There was no call for what he said to you.” Brightheart’s mew was quieter, but Jayfeather could sense her shock.

He shrugged, not wanting to discuss the accusations Breezepelt had hurled at him, and to his relief Brightheart said nothing more. Leaving the patrol to head for the distant water, Jayfeather turned toward the shore, the hot wind ruffling his pelt. In spite of the heat, cold struck through him, bone-deep, and he felt the ancient cats wreathing around him once more.

Beware, Jay’s Wing, one of them whispered. Stormclouds are gathering on a dark breeze.

Chapter 15

A dry, dusty breeze swept over Dovepaw, rattling the branches above her head. She blinked awake and stretched her jaws in a huge yawn. For a couple of heartbeats she couldn’t remember where she was. This isn’t the apprentices’ den! Where’s Ivypaw?

She scrambled up, panic surging through her, only to recognize the den that she and the other cats had built the night before, and the clearing where they had fled from the dogs. The others were still asleep, except for Lionblaze, who was sitting a couple of tail-lengths away on the bank of the stream.

“Hi,” he purred. “I was awake when Whitetail finished her watch, so I took your shift.”