Erin Hunter - Sign of the Moon

“Watch it yourself,” Jayfeather retorted, ruffling up his fur as he regained his balance. He stretched out one paw and felt the sticks shift. “I thought Dustpelt and Brackenfur were building a proper cover.”

“They’ve started,” Lionblaze meowed. “But they haven’t had time to get all the way around. We can still get through.”

“Good.”

“I’ll go in first,” Lionblaze continued. “You wait here until I’ve checked it out.”

Jayfeather opened his jaws for a stinging retort. I’m not a kit! You don’t need to take care of me! But he bit back the words; Lionblaze sounded tense and angry, and Jayfeather guessed that he was struggling with his memories of Hollyleaf, rather than worrying about a blind littermate. He heard the rattle of sticks as Lionblaze pushed his way through the temporary barrier. He followed, whiskers quivering as he tried to sense the edges of the hole.

“Careful!” Lionblaze warned him.

“I’m being careful,” Jayfeather insisted as he skirted the hole, getting an idea of how big it was. He stretched out his head and let out a loud meow, listening for the echo as it came up from below. “Deep,” he muttered. “I’m not surprised Icecloud couldn’t climb out.” His ears flicked forward as he listened for the roar of the underground river, but he couldn’t hear anything today. The water must be lower.

“I have to get down there, into the tunnel,” Jayfeather announced.

He heard his brother’s sigh of resignation. “I think you’re completely mouse-brained.” There was anger in Lionblaze’s voice, but fear, too: fear of what they might find if they looked too hard.

“Don’t you want to know the truth?” Jayfeather asked.

“What truth?” Lionblaze challenged him. “It’s been hidden for this long; it can stay hidden forever. Hollyleaf has gone, and we both know that’s for the best. What’s the point in stirring it all up again?”

Jayfeather stretched out his tail to touch his brother on the shoulder. “The caves below the hills have been giving up secrets ever since the Clans arrived here,” he mewed. “Nothing stays hidden down there—nothing.”

Down below, in the distance, Jayfeather thought that he could hear the faint voice of Falling Leaves, trapped forever in the tunnels when he failed to become a sharpclaw.

“Help me! Help me find the way out!” the ancient cat’s voice echoed.

Lionblaze let out a heavy sigh. “Have it your way. But if you insist on going down there, you’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.” He stood beside Jayfeather where he could look down into the tunnel. “It’s too far to jump,” he reported after a moment. “Unless we want a wrenched shoulder like Icecloud.”

“What about the ivy tendril they used to pull Icecloud and Dovepaw up?” Jayfeather suggested, his paws itching with a mixture of apprehension and impatience. “Is that still here?”

“Yes,” Lionblaze replied. “But it won’t bear your weight, let alone mine. We need to think of something else.”

Jayfeather heard the sticks shifting as Lionblaze leaped back over the barrier. Frustrated, he clawed the loose earth at the edge of the hole. I’ll jump down on my own if he doesn’t get a move on!

Then he heard his brother returning, dragging something heavy. He hauled it over the remains of the barrier and let it drop with a thump beside Jayfeather.

“I found a fallen branch,” Lionblaze panted. “We can slide one end into the hole and then climb down it, like climbing down a tree.”

Jayfeather waited, his impatience rising with every heartbeat, while his brother maneuvered the branch into the hole. Finally Lionblaze let out a growl of satisfaction. “Done. I’ll go first and make sure it’s safe.”

A creaking sound told Jayfeather that Lionblaze was climbing down. His claws dug into the soft earth and he felt the hairs on his pelt begin to rise.

“I’m down!” Lionblaze’s voice came up from below. “Come on. The end of the branch is about a tail-length in front of where you’re standing.”

Jayfeather groped his way forward. He hated his helplessness in situations where other cats could at least see where the danger lay.

But you wanted to do this, mouse-brain! Get on with it!

Locating the end of the branch, Jayfeather dug his claws in and clumsily scrambled onto it. Dead leaves rustled against his fur, and the branch bounced under his weight. Slowly, tail first, he began to edge his way down.

“That’s it! You’re doing fine!” Lionblaze called.

To Jayfeather’s relief, the branch grew wider as he climbed down, with knots in the wood to provide places for his claws to grip. Gaining confidence, he started to move faster, only to halt and nearly lose his hold as a twig poked him in the side. He let out a yowl.

“Are you okay?” Lionblaze asked.

“No! Your branch is clawing my fur off!” Steadying himself, Jayfeather began to creep downward again, until Lionblaze called out, “You’re nearly there. You can jump now.”

Jayfeather pushed off from the branch and sprang away from it, landing awkwardly on a pile of loose earth. Staggering to his paws, he puffed out a breath. “Made it!”

“I’m not sure this was a good idea,” Lionblaze muttered. “It’s really dark down here.”

I can’t say that bothers me, Jayfeather thought. Blind cats see just as well in the dark.

Cold, old air washed over him, carrying murmurs and half-memories from the ancient cats who had once lived here. His paws itched to head deeper into the tunnels. “Let’s go,” he meowed.

“Wait.” Jayfeather heard the scraping of rocks and realized that Lionblaze was heaving them away from the pile that blocked the way to the former entrance. “What are you doing?”

“Shifting the stones that fell last time,” Lionblaze growled. “Since we’re down here, we may as well look.”

But do you want to know what you might find? Jayfeather didn’t ask the question aloud. He knew very well that arguing with Lionblaze was useless once his brother had made up his mind. Crouching beside Lionblaze, he clawed at the barrier of earth and rocks. The hard edges hurt his paws and as the moments slipped by, his legs began to ache with exhaustion. He could hear Lionblaze panting beside him.

It’s like we’re trying to move the whole hill!

Jayfeather expected at any moment that his paws would encounter the soft pelt of Hollyleaf’s body. Memories of all the rotting crow-food he had ever scented raced through his mind, but the only scents he could pick up were of earth and water and stone. He paused in his scrabbling at the rocks, jaws parted to taste the air more carefully, but there was no trace left of his sister’s presence.

Lionblaze pushed a big rock aside and halted. “I can see something,” he mewed.

“What? Is it…?”

“No.” Lionblaze’s voice was tense. “It’s just a tuft of fur…black fur.”

“Hollyleaf’s fur…” Jayfeather breathed out.

“Then she was hit by the rockfall.”

“But she’s not here.” Jayfeather struggled to keep his voice steady. “If these are the stones that struck her, they didn’t trap her.” He turned to strain his senses farther down the tunnel. But all he could hear was the whispering, too faint to make out, of the ancient cats. If they knew what had happened to Hollyleaf, they weren’t sharing it with him.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Lionblaze spoke close to Jayfeather’s ear. “Hollyleaf is alive!”

For a heartbeat, pure joy flooded through Jayfeather. My sister isn’t dead! It was almost like being swept back to the time when they were kits in the nursery, when they still believed that Squirrelflight was their mother and they had no idea that one day Ashfur might be a threat to their safe, peaceful lives.