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already—”
    â€œThat’s enough,” Ashfur interrupted. “Berrynose, I’ll do the mentoring, thanks. But he’s right, Lionpaw. There’s no point in sticking your nose down every hole between here and WindClan. Unless there were any suspicious scents down there.”
    â€œNo. But there might have been!” Lionpaw defended himself.
    Ashfur made no comment, except for an impatient twitch of the tail. “Let’s get moving.”
    Lionpaw gave Berrynose a final glare and padded after his mentor. He could still feel a tug of longing for Heatherpaw, drawing him down into the caves. But he knew he would never walk there again—and not just because mud had blocked the tunnels.
    He wanted to be the greatest ThunderClan warrior ever. And he couldn’t be that if his best friend was a cat from another Clan.
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    â€œJump! High as you can—now!”
    Lionpaw leaped into the air, twisting as he landed so that he was facing his opponent. He managed to land a blow on Poppypaw’s haunches before she scrambled around to face him. Flashing a glance toward the edge of the clearing, hecould just make out the shadow of a tabby-striped pelt and the gleam of amber eyes.
    Thanks, Tigerstar!
    Poppypaw sprang at him, and Lionpaw launched himself forward, slipping underneath her with his belly brushing the moss. Hooking her hind legs out from under her, he planted his forepaws on her belly as she rolled over.
    â€œWell done, Lionpaw.” Ashfur gave him a nod of approval, though there was no warmth in his blue eyes.
    What am I doing wrong now? Lionpaw wondered. He had understood Ashfur’s annoyance with him when he was spending every night in the caves with Heatherpaw. Then he’d been almost too tired to put one paw in front of another during the day. But I’m training well now. I’m working really hard!
    â€œI’ve never seen that last move before.” Thornclaw, Poppypaw’s mentor, padded up to the two apprentices. “Where did you learn it?”
    â€œEr…I just figured it out, I suppose,” Lionpaw mumbled.
    He had learned the move from Tigerstar, during a training bout with Hawkfrost. The two shadowy cats visited him so often, he felt as if he always had voices in his ears, telling him to jump higher, strike harder, twist out of the way. The constant practice had made his muscles harder and stronger. He knew without any cat telling him that his battle skills had improved faster than any other apprentice’s. But it was difficult sometimes to explain where the skills came from.
    â€œYou can let me up now,” Poppypaw mewed.
    â€œOh, sorry.”
    Lionpaw stepped away from her and she bounced to her paws, shaking scraps of moss from her fur. “Will you teach me how to do that?”
    â€œSure. When a cat leaps at you, you need to flatten yourself, but keep moving forward.”
    â€œLike this?” Poppypaw tried to imitate the move.
    â€œYes, but a bit faster.”
    While the young tortoiseshell she-cat practiced, Lionpaw glanced toward the edge of the clearing again. But the ghostly presence of Tigerstar was gone.
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    Lionpaw maneuvered a long tendril of bramble through the tunnel into the stone hollow, tugging hard as it snagged on the thorns. His paws were aching with tiredness. First the dawn patrol, then the training session, then, after a short break for a few mouthfuls of fresh-kill, Ashfur had set him to repairing the elders’ den. And it was only just past sunhigh!
    As he dragged the bramble across the clearing, something heavy landed on the other end of it, bringing him up short and making him stumble. Dropping his end, Lionpaw glanced back to see Foxkit. The reddish tabby tom had sunk his teeth into the other end of the tendril and was battering it with his paws. A low growl came from his throat.
    â€œShadowClan are invading!” Icekit squealed, dashing up beside her brother and leaping onto the