Erin Hunter - The Sight

“You don’t actually believe they let their elders starve, do you?” Hollypaw mewed scornfully.

“Well, no,” Lionpaw murmured. “But what if all the other apprentices are bigger than us?”

“We’ve been apprentices for only a quarter moon,” Hollypaw pointed out. “There’re bound to be some apprentices bigger than us.”

Firestar leaped up onto the fallen trunk, picked his way carefully across to the far shore, and jumped down. The pebbles swished beneath his paws as he turned to watch his Clanmates cross. Brambleclaw followed him, then Dustpelt, and before he knew it, Lionpaw was watching Hollypaw leap up ahead of him onto the tree. The smooth, black water flowed beneath her, lapping gently at the dead branches that held the tree fast in the lakebed. She weaved her way through the stubby twigs and knots until she reached the other end.

Then she jumped down and turned to watch Lionpaw cross.

Trembling with excitement, he scrambled up onto the branch. The bark was surprisingly slippery and his paws slithered in all directions. He felt the tree jerk and looked back to see that Ashfur had leaped up behind him. Ahead of him was a jutting shard of bark where a smaller branch had once sprouted. He curved his body around it, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the far end of the tree.

Suddenly his forepaw slipped and his paw shot off the trunk. He felt himself begin to fall and stared in horror at the water shining cold and dark beneath him.

A gray pelt flashed behind him, and Lionpaw felt the nudge of a muzzle against his flank. It pushed him up, supporting him until he regained his balance. His mentor had saved him from a humiliating start to his first Gathering.

“Thanks!” Lionpaw gasped.

“It’s always tricky the first time,” Ashfur meowed.

Lionpaw unsheathed his claws and gripped the trunk like a squirrel the rest of the way. He jumped down onto the beach, happy to be on solid ground once more. The pebbles felt good on his tingling pads.

“Thought you were fish food for a moment there,” Hollypaw welcomed him.

“Me too!” Lionpaw purred.

He longed to race into the trees, impatient to see what was there, but he forced himself to wait while the others crossed.

Hazelpaw weaved her way among the jutting twigs; Berrypaw pushed his way through with his powerful shoulders, while Spiderleg slipped around them like a snake, clearly accustomed to the crossing. Lionpaw felt very small and inexperienced, but he lifted his chin and forced his fur to lie flat.

Finally, all the ThunderClan cats stood on the beach.

Firestar swept his gaze over them, then, with a single nod, turned and padded into the trees. At last! Lionpaw raced between the shadowy trunks, bracken scraping his pelt. His ears twitched with anticipation as the trees thinned and a clearing opened ahead.

There were cats everywhere. Lionpaw had never seen so many different shades of pelts. Some were lithe, some broad-shouldered. Most seemed much bigger than him. There were more cats here than Lionpaw had imagined could live around the lake, and these were just a few from each Clan! At the far edge of the clearing, with the lake behind it sparkling distantly through the leaf-bare forest, he saw the Great Oak, the center of every Gathering.

“Is it what you expected?” Hollypaw whispered.

“I didn’t realize there would be so many cats.” Lionpaw stared at a RiverClan tom, his pelt so sleek that it shone in the moonlight as he flexed his well-muscled shoulders.

“Imagine meeting him in battle! I’m going to train twice as hard from now on.”

“How can you be thinking about fighting?” Hollypaw scolded. “There’s a truce tonight. You should be trying to work out whether he thinks like a ThunderClan warrior.”

Her eyes narrowed. “If you know how your enemy thinks, then you have already won half the battle.”

Lionpaw glanced sideways at his sister. Where did she come up with this stuff? Here he was, wondering if he could match any of these cats in a fight, and she was already working out battle strategies like she was a Clan leader.

Mousepaw’s eyes twinkled. “Why not go and ask him?”

Hollypaw gasped. “Can we really just go up and talk to any cat?”

“Well,” Mousepaw cautioned, “you’d be better off talking to the apprentices.” He dipped his head toward a group of smaller RiverClan cats. “The warriors from the other Clans aren’t dangerous or anything, but they won’t be pleased to have some young apprentice pestering them.”

“What if they talk to us ?” Lionpaw asked.

“Just be polite and don’t give too much information away,” Hazelpaw warned. “Some of the warriors might use your inexperience to find out what’s happening in ThunderClan.”

“Did you spill any secrets at your first Gathering, Mousepaw?” Hollypaw asked.

“Of course not!” Mousepaw sniffed.

“Yeah, right!” Berrypaw interjected sarcastically. “If I hadn’t clamped my tail over your mouth you would have told Russetfur that Firestar was about to give up the land by the river before Firestar had a chance to announce it himself.”

“But she’s the ShadowClan deputy!” Mousepaw argued. “I couldn’t just ignore her.”

“You didn’t have to tell her your Clan’s whole history either,” Berrypaw mewed, his whiskers twitching.

“Well,” Hollypaw mewed suddenly, “I’m going to see what everyone else is talking about.”

She began to head toward the group of wide-eyed RiverClan apprentices when a small, pale tabby came hurtling toward her across the clearing.

“Hollypaw!” It was the RiverClan medicine cat apprentice, her bright green eyes flashing in the moonlight.

“Hi, Willowpaw!” Hollypaw stopped to greet her.

Willowpaw skidded to a halt and stared at her in delight.

“Mothwing told me that you’re Leafpool’s apprentice now.”

Hollypaw dipped her head. “That’s right.”

“Great!” Willowpaw mewed. “Have you had your first dream from StarClan yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“I bet you do soon,” Willowpaw assured her. “Come on!”

She swept her tail around Hollypaw. “I’ll introduce you to the other medicine cats.”

Willowpaw led Hollypaw toward where Leafpool was sharing tongues with a group of cats. Lionpaw felt a flash of envy. As a medicine cat apprentice, his sister would have a special connection with all the Clans. He shuffled his paws nervously as he gazed at the strange faces around him. Then he remembered that the truce lasted for only one night.

These cats were his enemies. There was no point making friends. His duty was to get to know them so that he knew their strengths—and their weaknesses—when he met them in battle.

“I’m going to talk to Harepaw,” Berrypaw announced.

“I’m coming too,” Hazelpaw mewed.

Lionpaw, alone now with Mousepaw, glanced around the clearing. He spotted a tightly clustered group of cats watching from the foot of the Great Oak. The shadows disguised the color of their pelts, and something about the way their eyes shone in the gloom made him shudder.

“Are they ShadowClan?” he whispered to Mousepaw.

Mousepaw nodded. “Don’t let them scare you. They like to look like they’re enemies with all the world. But once you start talking to them, they’re okay.”

“Are you sure?” Lionpaw wasn’t entirely convinced.

But Mousepaw didn’t hear him. “Minnowpaw!” he mewed.

He was staring at a young gray-and-white RiverClan she-cat whose pelt looked as downy as kit fur.

“She looks barely out of the nursery,” Lionpaw remarked.

Mousepaw’s ears twitched. “She’s a whole moon older than me,” he corrected. “Come and talk to her,” he went on. “You’ll see she’s not as soft as she looks.”