Warriors: Power Of Three 4 - Eclipse (13 page)

RiverClan cats could swim. Jaypaw had even heard stories of Firestar and Graystripe swimming through a flood to res-cue a nest of kits. And after the tunnels had flooded, they’d all managed to get to land, hadn’t they?

He remembered that night, flailing in the water with nothing to cling to. The water had dragged at his pelt until he had stopped fighting it. Then he had floated, like his stick. He remembered the sensation of his paws churning, the water pushing and pulling at him like wind. He had felt as light as thistledown.

He halted.

“What’s the matter?” Leafpool stopped beside him.

“Nothing,” Jaypaw answered. But an idea was forming in his mind.

A screech made him jump. Poppyfrost was yelping in pain beside the nursery.

“A thorn’s poked her eye!” Honeyfern yowled. “A branch was sticking out of the nursery wall!”

“I thought I’d weaved them all back in!” Graystripe came pounding across the clearing.

“Don’t panic!” Leafpool darted from Jaypaw’s side. “The thorns aren’t big. At worst it’ll be a scratch.”

Jaypaw raced to the medicine cat’s den. Poppyfrost would be fine. He had something more important to do.

He burst through the brambles and heard moss crackle as Cinderpaw stirred in her nest.

“What is it?” she called in alarm.

“You have to swim!” Jaypaw mewed excitedly.

“Swim?” Cinderpaw gasped. “But I can’t swim!”

“You could if you tried.” Jaypaw hurried to her nest. “RiverClan cats do it all the time.”

“But they’re RiverClan.”

“Don’t you see?” Jaypaw paced beside her, unable to keep still. “You can practice using your leg in water. That way you won’t have to put any weight on it, but it’ll get stronger.”

“Stronger?” Cinderpaw echoed, sounding dazed.

“It’ll be like walking on it, but easier,” Jaypaw pressed.

“Where will I swim?”

“In the lake, of course!”

“How will I get there?”

“You managed to walk back to camp, didn’t you?” Jaypaw reasoned. “And you’ve rested since then.”

“How will I know what to do?”

“I’ll teach you.” Jaypaw ignored the fear pricking in his pelt at the thought of getting his paws wet.

“You?” A purr of amusement rumbled in Cinderpaw’s throat. It was the first time she’d purred since her accident.

Jaypaw knew he could convince her now. “I’ll do my best,”

he promised.

“Leafpool will think we’re crazier than hares.”

“Let’s not tell her, then. It can be our secret. Think how surprised she’ll be when she sees you walking on four paws again.”

Cinderpaw didn’t speak, but Jaypaw could detect a small flower of hope budding in her mind.

“Okay,” she agreed at last.

“We’ll start tomorrow.” Jaypaw felt jubilant. “You’ll be better in no time.”

Cinderpaw flicked his ear with her tail. “If I don’t drown first.”

Jaypaw blinked open his eyes. He could hear Leafpool stretching in her nest. It must be dawn. The medicine cat sat up and yawned.

Jaypaw waited for her to leave the den to make dirt, as she always did first thing.

The moss from his nest was tickling his nose. He sneezed, then sniffed the air. It was dry and warm and promised sun.

It would be a good day to take Cinderpaw to the lake. Padding from his nest, he tried to ignore the doubt rumbling in his belly. Even if teaching Cinderpaw to swim didn’t heal her leg, it would prove to Leafpool that he hadn’t given up on their patient.

“Jaypaw?” Cinderpaw was calling him. “Leafpool’s gone out.” She sounded nervous. “But she’ll probably be back in a moment. Perhaps we should leave this swimming idea for another time.”

“If we hurry, we can be gone by the time she gets back.” He was nervous too, but he refused to let it stop either of them.

“We have to try this.”

Cinderpaw gave a resigned sigh, and her nest rustled as she struggled to her paws. “Ow!”

“Your leg’s just stiff,” Jaypaw reassured her.

“Could I have a couple of poppy seeds, just to ease the pain?” Cinderpaw begged.

“No.” Jaypaw was firm. “They’ll make you sleepy, and you’ll need all your wits about you if you’re going to learn to swim.”

A pause. Then determination hardened Cinderpaw’s mew.

“Okay.”

Jaypaw slid beside her, pressing his shoulder to hers so that she could lean on him. She was heavy, and he struggled to help her out of the den.

Once outside the bramble-covered entrance he checked the clearing, tasting the air and pricking his ears for any sign of life. Squirrelflight was padding sleepily from the thorn tunnel. She must have been on guard overnight. “Don’t move,”

Jaypaw warned Cinderpaw. The pair stood still as Squirrelflight padded into the warriors’ den.

The entrance would be unguarded for a few moments while Squirrelflight woke her replacement. The dawn patrol was due back, and Leafpool was sure to return from dirtplace before long.

“Come on.” He nudged Cinderpaw forward, and they made awkward progress across the clearing. Jaypaw tensed every time Cinderpaw stumbled and growled with pain. He willed her on, praying her courage would hold and hoping no one could hear her. As they reached the thorn barrier, it rustled.

Jaypaw sniffed the air and froze. “Leafpool.” The medicine cat was returning through the dirtplace tunnel at the far end of the barrier.

Quickly, he pressed Cinderpaw against the thorny hedge and flicked his tail across her mouth to silence her gasp. Leafpool’s paws scuffed across the clearing as she headed back to her den. The moment the bramble-covered entrance swished shut, Jaypaw steered Cinderpaw into the thorn tunnel and nudged her onward. “You’re doing really well,” he encouraged.

“I’m not getting much choice,” she grumbled.

She was panting with effort by the time they had cleared the camp. Once they reached the trees, Jaypaw relaxed a little.

They would be out of sight of the camp guard and any patrol here.

“Rest a moment,” he mewed.

Cinderpaw sat down, relieved. “Where are you going?”

“Just scouting for the best route.” He felt his way carefully forward, testing the ground for slippery leaves, checking that no fallen branches blocked the path. Cinderpaw was in a lot of pain, and he wanted to make the journey as easy as possible for her.

When he returned, she had flopped onto her side, but her breathing had eased. Jaypaw sniffed her leg, touching his nose to her fur. It didn’t feel too hot, and the swelling hadn’t grown any worse.

“Your leg’s doing great,” he mewed.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Cinderpaw moaned.

“Imagine we’re going to save a drowning kit,” Jaypaw suggested.

Cinderpaw lifted her head.

“You wouldn’t let a sore leg stop you from getting there.”

She heaved herself to her paws. “No way!”

That’s more like the old Cinderpaw! “Come on, then.” Jaypaw pressed in beside her once more, taking her weight the best he could.

Her whiskers twitched, tickling his cheek. “A blind cat leading the way!”

“I bet you never thought it was possible.” Jaypaw was glad to hear her joking.

The smooth grass beyond the trees was slippery, and they slid and stumbled down the slope toward the lake.

“Are you sure you’re not trying to make me worse?” Cinderpaw mewed through gritted teeth as they fell for the third time.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise.” Jaypaw hoped it was true. Was swimming really the answer? StarClan, let me be right!

A cool breeze lifted their fur as he finally helped Cinderpaw onto the beach. The shingle crunched under their paws.

“The lake’s beautiful today,” Cinderpaw breathed. “With the wind ruffling the water, it looks like soft gray fur.”

Jaypaw padded cautiously forward, expecting to find himself wading at any moment. But the water level had fallen since yesterday. He remembered with a twinge how close he’d come to losing his stick, then hopped backward as the waves lapped unexpectedly at his paws.

“Is it cold?” Cinderpaw mewed anxiously.

“Not too bad.” Jaypaw’s fur along his spine rippled. He’d have to wade in with her. How else could he persuade her there was nothing to worry about? Tensing against the tug of the lake, he padded a tail-length out, trying not to show how much he hated the feel of the water soaking his leg fur. “Come on!”

Water splashed as Cinderpaw limped out after him. “Now what?” she asked, pausing beside him.

“Just keep walking until you can’t feel the stones under your paws anymore.”

Cinderpaw’s fur bristled. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is.” Jaypaw remembered struggling to shore after he was washed out of the tunnels, the terrifying sensation of water dragging him down, how he’d fought to stay afloat. “You’ll know what to do,” he promised Cinderpaw. After all, he’d managed to stay afloat, hadn’t he?

Cinderpaw pressed against him, fear pulsing beneath her pelt. “I can’t.”

Jaypaw tried to picture the lake stretching before her, but his mind was swept into a vision of thick woodland. Vibrant green ferns circled a gray she-cat. Cinderpelt sat inside the medicine cat’s den at the old camp. The night sky arced over her head, flecked with stars. “I’ll do anything to be a warrior,”

she whispered, gazing up at the sparkling heavens.

Jaypaw blinked away the vision. “Do you want to be a warrior?” he asked Cinderpaw.

Cinderpaw didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Jaypaw didn’t need to say another word. Cinderpaw was wading deeper into the lake. She gasped as the fur lapped her belly. “You told me it wasn’t cold!” she squeaked.

“You’ll get used to it!”

“The water’s pulling at my fur!” Cinderpaw called.

“You won’t have to wash for days!” Jaypaw joked. He hoped she didn’t hear the tremble in his mew.

“It’s over my back.”

“Keep going, but slowly.”

“It’s soaking through my pelt. I feel heavy as a stone!”

Jaypaw heard splashing. Had he sent her to drown?

“I can’t touch the bottom! Help!”

He rushed forward through the waves till the water soaked his chest. “Cinderpaw!” Blood pounded in his ears. “Come back!”

He could hear Cinderpaw flailing, and water spattered his nose. “What should I do?” She gave a spluttered cry; a wave must have washed straight into her mouth.

“Keep moving your legs!” Jaypaw yowled. “Imagine you’re running. Use your tail for balance.” Anything to keep your nose above water.

The splashing stopped suddenly.

“Cinderpaw!”

No sound. Only the gentle splash of the waves on the shore.

Had she been sucked into the depths?

“Cinderpaw! Are you okay?” he called more desperately.

“I’m swimming!” Cinderpaw’s reply made him gasp with relief.

“Really?”

“What do you mean, really?” Her reproachful mew was drowned as a wave slapped her muzzle and she started to cough.

“Keep moving your paws!” Jaypaw urged.

“I am!” Cinderpaw spluttered. “And it works. It really works! I’m floating!” She coughed again.

“Concentrate on swimming!” Jaypaw ordered. He could hear her rhythmic passage through the water. She was heading along the shore. He splashed through the shallows, keeping level with her.

Suddenly a yowl from the bank made him freeze. “Cinderpaw! What are you doing?”

Leafpool was calling from the beach.

“I’m swimming!” Cinderpaw splashed back toward the shore and padded, dripping, into the shallows beside Jaypaw.

“Jaypaw taught me!”

Jaypaw flattened his ears, waiting for Leafpool to lecture him. But her gaze warmed his pelt. She was intrigued, not angry.

“Go on,” she prompted.

“I figured the water would support her,” he ventured. “So she could strengthen her leg without putting too much weight on it.”

“And how does your leg feel now?” Leafpool asked Cinderpaw.

“It aches,” she mewed. “But it doesn’t hurt like it does when I walk on the ground.” She began to wade back out into the lake. “Can I try some more?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, but plunged into the waves.

The shingle shifted as Leafpool reached Jaypaw. “Well done,” she murmured.

He dipped his head. “Cinderpelt couldn’t be a warrior, but Cinderpaw can.”

Leafpool ran her tail along his damp flank. “I hope so.”

Her mew became brisk. “You should come out now, Cinderpaw, before you’re too tired to walk back to camp.” She turned to Jaypaw. “Bring her back slowly; then get some rest. It’s half-moon time, and we’re going to the Moonpool tonight.”

Jaypaw scrambled upward, his claws scraping on the smooth boulders . A few more tail-lengths and I’ll reach the hollow. His paws were aching, heavy as stones, and his head buzzed with tiredness. He had walked Cinderpaw carefully back to camp as Leafpool had asked, and their Clanmates had gathered around them, shocked by Cinderpaw’s dripping pelt.

“You’re wet!” Sorreltail had meowed.

Hollypaw had paced around her friend, prickling with worry. “Did you fall in the lake?”

“I’ve been swimming!” Cinderpaw told them proudly. She was still limping, but she could walk without help now.

“Swimming!” Hollypaw sounded astonished.

“She’s going to swim every day to strengthen her leg,” Jaypaw explained. He guided his patient away from the noise of the clearing and settled her back into her nest.

“Thank you, Jaypaw.” Cinderpaw’s mew was heartfelt.

“Being a warrior is so important to me.”

Jaypaw nodded. “I know.”

“Hurry up!” Leafpool’s mew jolted him back to the present.

He scrambled over the rim of the hollow, a rush of cool mountain air f lattening the fur on his face. Following Leafpool, he padded down the well-trodden path to the Moonpool. As usual, the smooth stone, dimpled by the paw steps of ancient cats, felt warm and comforting beneath his paws.

Barkface had hardly spoken during the journey. Leafpool had been no better. The tension between her and the WindClan medicine cat had made the air crackle as though a storm were brewing. Barkface hadn’t brought Kestrelpaw with him, claiming the WindClan apprentice had hurt his paw on a sharp thorn. But Jaypaw could sense a defensive shield around Barkface, as though he’d wrapped himself in brambles. He guessed that the WindClan medicine cat wanted to protect his apprentice from any difficult questions Leafpool might ask about the prey-stealing.