Erin Hunter - The Sight

“Leafpool.” Crowfeather’s greeting was curt, but for the first time Jaypaw sensed some feeling other than irritation stir beneath the WindClan warrior’s pelt. “I was out with Breezepaw and his mentor when we found him.”

Leafpool stiffened. “Your son’s an apprentice already?”

Her mew was brittle.

“He is,” Crowfeather replied, his voice strangely flat.

“Jaypaw!” Hollypaw rushed up and rubbed her muzzle against his cheek. “You look half-drowned!”

Tiredness suddenly swept through Jaypaw, and he let himself sink down to the ground.

“Fetch some thyme, Hollypaw,” Leafpool ordered.

Hollypaw darted away to the back of the den and returned a moment later, breathless and flustered, her jaws full of leaves. Jaypaw recognized the scent of feverfew, not thyme.

“He hardly needs cooling down,” Leafpool meowed impatiently. She hurried to the herb piles herself and grabbed a mouthful of thyme.

Crowfeather stood and watched silently.

“And why am I giving him thyme?” Leafpool prompted Hollypaw, dropping the leaves beside Jaypaw.

“To make him warm?” Hollypaw ventured.

Leafpool shook her head. “You can warm him by lying next to him,” she meowed.

Hollypaw crouched down and pressed her body against Jaypaw’s.

Leafpool nosed the thyme leaves toward Jaypaw. “The thyme will calm him and help with the shock,” she explained.

She licked Jaypaw’s cheek. “Eat them all,” she encouraged.

“They don’t taste too bad, and I’ll send Hollypaw for a nice fresh mouse to wash the taste away once you’ve begun to warm up.”

Jaypaw swallowed the leaves without complaint. He felt too cold and tired to object to anything. He let his eyes close and felt the warmth of his sister’s body seep into his. He was still vaguely aware of the piercing emotion that raced between Crowfeather and Leafpool, but even that slid away as he slipped into the comforting stillness of sleep.

Lionpaw glanced up at the moon shining full and bright into the hollow. Clouds aren’t going to stop this Gathering .

Dustpelt, Spiderleg, and Ashfur were already waiting by the camp entrance. Firestar stood beneath Highledge with Sandstorm and Brambleclaw, talking quietly to them.

“Why are we hanging about?” Hollypaw fussed, tearing the grass with her thorn-sharp claws.

“It can’t be much longer,” Lionpaw mewed. He felt every bit as excited as his sister. This was their first Gathering, their first chance to meet apprentices from rival Clans, to swap stories and compare training—knowing that the next time they met might be in battle, with claws unsheathed and teeth bared.

“It looks like Firestar’s waiting for Leafpool,” Hazelpaw put in.

“Why’s it taking her so long?” Hollypaw complained.

“She’s only sorting through the new herbs we gathered before sunhigh.”

“She might sort them quicker if she had her apprentice helping,” Berrypaw pointed out.

“I tried helping!” Hollypaw protested. “But Leafpool said it would be quicker if she did it herself.”

Mousepaw’s whiskers twitched. “Are you sure you’re cut out to be a medicine cat?”

“Of course I am,” Hollypaw snapped. “One day you’ll be waiting for me to come out of the medicine den!”

“They’re only teasing you,” Lionpaw soothed her. He thought it was odd that Daisy’s kits were all going to the Gathering, while the Clanborn kits, Cinderpaw, Honeypaw, and Poppypaw, were staying behind. I guess it’s only fair , he decided. Three Clanborn apprentices and three non-Clan. He sighed.

At least, it would have been three, if only…

He looked at Jaypaw, crouching in the entrance of their den, and sighed. He had been sitting there since sundown, forbidden to go to the Gathering as punishment for the adventure that had ended with his half drowning in the lake.

Now he glowered angrily out of the shadows, his sightless blue gaze fixed on his brother and sister joking with Daisy’s kits as they waited to leave.

Why did he have to be so reckless? It was harder now that they were apprentices—Lionpaw’s duties kept him so busy that he could not keep an eye on Jaypaw, as he used to when they were kits. He felt a flash of guilt but pushed it quickly away. His first responsibility was to the Clan now. Jaypaw would have to learn to be more sensible.

He padded over to his brother and smoothed the fur between his ears with his tongue. “I wish you were coming,” he mewed.

“You’re the only one who does,” Jaypaw grumbled.

“You know that’s not true,” Lionpaw argued. “It’s your own fault you’ve been confined to camp.”

“Perhaps Firestar just doesn’t want a blind cat at the Gathering.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it doesn’t look good having an apprentice like me in the Clan,” Jaypaw growled.

Was that true? Before Lionpaw could say anything, he heard Firestar’s call.

“I have to go,” he told Jaypaw. “But I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”

He ran after the other apprentices, who were already racing toward the entrance. Firestar padded to the head of the party and, with a sharp nod, bounded away through the tunnel. Lionpaw charged after his Clanmates, his heart soaring as their paws drummed the forest floor. He felt Hollypaw’s pelt brushing his, rippling with excitement. A moment later they burst out of the tunnel and charged up the slope.

They raced past Sky Oak and down to the lake. The pebbles on the shore clattered beneath their paws. The stones grazed Lionpaw’s pads but he didn’t care; he could already see the island on the far side, rising from the water, crowded with trees. Their slender leafless branches reached up to the star-pricked sky, trembling like whiskers, and Lionpaw flicked his tail excitedly.

As the cats began the long trek through WindClan territory, Firestar steadied the pace. They passed the horseplace, where Daisy used to live, and crossed into RiverClan territory, always keeping within five tail-lengths of the waterline, as agreed by all the Clans. The ground became muddier as they neared the island. Lionpaw slowed down after he nearly slipped. He didn’t want to arrive covered in mud. He could make out dark shapes streaming over the fallen tree that bridged the gap between shore and island. The scent of WindClan mingled with the scents of ShadowClan and RiverClan; the other Clans were arriving.

“Will you mention the border markers?” Lionpaw heard his father meow. He peered past Mousepaw and Spiderleg and saw Brambleclaw keeping pace with Firestar.

“Do you mean the fact that ShadowClan and WindClan have marked every tree and blade of grass on our borders?”

Firestar asked.

“Yes,” Brambleclaw replied.

“I can’t dictate what the other Clans do in their territory,” Firestar reminded him.

“But it’s an open show of hostility!” Brambleclaw growled.

“We’re not going to react,” Firestar told him. “Yet.”

“Firestar’s right.” Ashfur hurried to catch up with them. “It would be better to send out more frequent border patrols than give the other Clans the satisfaction of knowing they’ve got us worried.”

“It takes more than the stench of ShadowClan to worry us!” Firestar declared. He broke into a run, bounding the last few tail-lengths to the fallen tree, and skidded to a halt by the withered roots.

Lionpaw stared up at the trunk that bridged the water between the shore and the island. The air was filled with the scents of WindClan, ShadowClan, and RiverClan. “We must be the last to arrive!” he whispered to Hollypaw. Suddenly he felt shy about facing all three Clans at once. “Do you suppose Ferncloud’s nursery stories about ShadowClan are true?”