Erin Hunter - The Last Hope

Lionblaze hesitated. The wind strengthened around them, swishing through the branches overhead. “It has to do with the prophecy,” he confessed.

“Okay.” Hollyleaf nodded. “What about it?”

“There’s a fourth cat.” Hollyleaf’s ears pricked as Lionblaze went on. “I think it could be you.”

Hollyleaf looked down at her paws. “No way.”

“Why not?” Lionblaze leaned closer. “You’ve just proved that you’re a great climber and hunter!”

“I’m a trained warrior!” she argued. “I’m supposed to be able to climb and hunt. And I spent a long time taking care of myself.”

Lionblaze ignored her. “But you’d do anything for your Clan! You had the courage and skill to fight WindClan in the tunnels.” He searched her gaze. “Have you had any dreams? Has StarClan shared tongues with you? Or the Tribe of Endless Hunting?”

Hollyleaf stared at him. “I’m not a medicine cat!”

“But if you’re part of the prophecy—”

“I’m not part of the prophecy!” Anger edged Hollyleaf’s mew. “I killed a cat, remember?” She started to pace, her claws ripping leaves. “And not because I was being brave or noble. I killed Ashfur because I was angry that our birth had broken the warrior code!” She swung around, her eyes glittering with torment. “Ashfur died because I was so angry that I stopped caring about what was right!”

Anguish stabbed Lionblaze’s belly. “It wasn’t your fault!” He brushed around her, desperate to ease her grief. “Leafpool and Squirrelflight started it. You should blame them!”

Hollyleaf shook her head. “No, they made a mistake. They were just trying to make it better. No one should have died because Leafpool’s heart led her along the wrong path.” She fixed Lionblaze’s gaze with hers. “Doesn’t every cat do that sometime in their life?”

Lionblaze backed away. “I—I guess,” he stammered. “But in the end real warriors do the right thing, don’t they?”

“Yes.” Hollyleaf sat down and wearily pawed the dead squirrel. “Which is why I’m doing everything I can to make it up to my Clan.”

Hope flickered again in Lionblaze’s heart. “Isn’t that proof you’re the fourth cat?”

“No.” Hollyleaf looked up. “It’s just proof I’m a warrior, like any other ThunderClan cat.”

“But you caught a squirrel higher than any ThunderClan cat has ever hunted.”

“I’m well trained.”

“You fought in the tunnels better than any warrior.”

“Those tunnels had been my home for a long time.”

“You’re loyal to the warrior code.”

“So is every one of our Clanmates.” Hollyleaf’s gaze was unblinking.

Lionblaze’s tail drooped. He couldn’t argue anymore.

“You and Jayfeather and Dovewing are special,” Hollyleaf went on. “If I have any destiny, it’s to protect you three so you can fulfill yours.” She padded closer until Lionblaze could feel her warm breath on his fur. “I’ve never had any special dreams or visions. Everything I’ve done, any warrior could do.” Rain began to patter on the leaves above them. “I’m not the fourth cat,” she murmured.

“I wish it was you,” Lionblaze told her sadly. “You deserve to be part of the prophecy.” His ears twitched. “We need to find the fourth cat or everything will be lost.”

Hollyleaf pressed her shoulder against his as the rain fell harder. “Don’t give up,” she whispered. “Our ancestors have led us this far. They won’t let us fail now.”

Dovewing sat in the entrance and peered out of the den. The camp smelled of wet leaves. “It’s stopped raining.”

Ivypool stretched in her nest. “Is it clearing up?”

“Yes.” Clouds still streaked the sky but a brisk wind was sweeping them away. “It’ll be clear by the time we get there.” Dovewing’s whiskers twitched. There would be a Gathering after all. The past stormy days had left her restless. She hadn’t seen Tigerheart since the last moonlit night. StarClan, let him be at the Gathering.

Bumblestripe padded from the fresh-kill pile, a mouse in his jaws. “Hi, Dovewing.” He dropped it at her paws. “I thought you might be hungry.”

She pushed the mouse away. “No, thanks.”

Bumblestripe tipped his head. “Are you sure? It’s a long way to the island. I’m starving already.”

“Then go and eat something,” Dovewing meowed. On the other side of the clearing, Firestar was emerging from his den. “We’ll be leaving soon.” Dovewing glanced at Ivypool. “You look better for your rest.” At least the bad weather had meant the Clan had been confined to camp and Ivypool had been able to catch up on sleep. “Perhaps Brambleclaw will change his mind.”

The ThunderClan deputy hadn’t chosen Ivypool for the Gathering. When Dovewing had begged him to let her littermate join the patrol, he’d shaken his head. “She’s been looking tired for moons. Perhaps Jayfeather should check her.”

“She’s fine,” Dovewing had quickly reassured him.

Ivypool turned in her nest. “I’d rather stay here and sleep.”

Dovewing blinked at her. Did she want to dream her way back into the Dark Forest already?

Ivypool’s gaze flicked toward Blossomfall and Birchfall as the warriors passed the den entrance. Then she closed her eyes. “Brambleclaw’s right,” she murmured. “I am tired.”

Dovewing ducked outside and crossed the clearing to where Lionblaze and Cloudtail were already waiting by the thorn tunnel. Foxleap sat beside them, while Cherrypaw patted playfully at Molepaw’s twitching tail.

“Wait for me.” Rosepetal hurried to catch up. “Bumblestripe’s trying to cram in an extra mouse before we leave.”

Dovewing snorted. “He’ll be as fat as Graystripe if he keeps eating like that.”

The pale gray warrior was rummaging through the fresh-kill pile, his black stripes like moon shadows across his pelt. Graystripe nosed in beside him. “Any good prey left?”

Bumblestripe hooked out a shrew and licked his lips. “This must have been hidden at the bottom.”

“You’d better offer it to Mousefur first,” Graystripe advised. “She loves shrew.”

Bumblestripe looked across to the honeysuckle bush. Mousefur was outside, washing her ears with a trembling forepaw. Bumblestripe held out the shrew, letting it dangle from a claw. “Are you hungry, Mousefur?”

She looked up, whiskers twitching. “Not really. I wish I still had a warrior’s appetite.”

Beside her, Purdy rolled onto his back and stretched. “Do you ever miss hunting?” he asked.

“As much as you’d miss talking if your tongue fell out,” Mousefur rasped.

Bumblestripe looked at the shrew, his eyes lighting up. “I guess it’s mine, then.”

Ferncloud marched from the nursery. “Brightheart would probably appreciate it more.” She nipped the shrew from his claw and carried it back to where Brightheart lay resting, her belly round in the moonlight. Bumblestripe’s tail drooped.

Dovewing purred and nudged Rosepetal. “Poor old Bumblestripe. Always first to the pile and last to get fed.”

Firestar jumped down from Highledge and gazed at the rising moon. “We should leave.” He glanced over his shoulder as Sandstorm landed beside him. “The break in the weather might not last long.”

Brambleclaw stretched beside the warriors’ den, then followed Firestar across the clearing. Cinderheart padded out of her den and stared wistfully at the thorn barrier.

Squirrelflight hopped out after her. “Are you going to the Gathering?”