“Don’t worry,” Hollypaw soothed. “Firestar’s just being careful that no cat can accuse us of straying onto WindClan land.”

The warriors splashed through the shallows, and Jaypaw gritted his teeth, hating the feel of the water on his paws. He tasted the air. Fresh WindClan scents were blowing down from the moorland.

“They’re coming,” Hollypaw warned.

Jaypaw tensed. “Toward us?”

“No. They’re far up the hillside and heading toward the island.”

At the tree-bridge, Hollypaw jumped onto the fallen trunk first and let her tail dangle down. Jaypaw reached up with his paws, feeling for it. He felt the soft tip brush his pads and knew instantly where to jump.

“Thanks,” he puffed, scrambling through the leafless fallen branches.

The trunk was slippery, its bark shredded and peeling away. Jaypaw padded after Hollypaw, putting one paw carefully in front of the other until his nose brushed his sister’s tail.

She had stopped where the trunk splayed out in tangled roots. The shingle crunched as she jumped down onto the shore.

This was the hardest part. Jaypaw took a breath and leaped after her. As always the shingle hit his paws suddenly, but this time he didn’t need to stumble to regain his balance.

“Nice landing,” Hollypaw purred.

Their Clanmates were streaming through the undergrowth, making it swish as they disappeared into the trees. Jaypaw nosed his way through and followed Hollypaw through the soft swaths of fern. As they emerged on the other side, a barrage of scents hit his nose. WindClan and RiverClan were already here. He wrinkled his nose. No sign of ShadowClan.

The ThunderClan cats padded to one side of the clearing, keeping close together.

“Everyone’s keeping to themselves,” Hollypaw observed.

Jaypaw tasted the air. She was right: There was no mingling of scents. RiverClan sat upwind in a tight group. WindClan paced restlessly near them, but didn’t break ranks.

“I’m surprised RiverClan and WindClan aren’t sharing tongues,” Lionpaw muttered. His muscles were tight as though ready for battle.

“Where are ShadowClan?” Poppyfrost mewed anxiously.

“I hope they come soon,” fretted Honeyfern.

A growl suddenly rumbled in Lionpaw’s throat.

“Quiet!” Ashfur snapped.

Lionpaw fell silent, but Jaypaw could sense rage pulsing from his brother’s pelt, hot as the sun.

He narrowed his eyes, focusing his other senses on Lionpaw. He sensed hatred shooting from his brother like a shaft of light, and, concentrating harder, he realized he could follow its path into the defensive cluster of WindClan cats. It ended at Heatherpaw; Jaypaw recognized the tone of her mew and her faint honey scent. He flicked his tail in surprise. Lionpaw’s hatred was so strong he was surprised Heatherpaw couldn’t feel it burning her pelt. But the WindClan apprentice certainly sensed something; she was weaving self-consciously among her Clanmates, betraying unease with every step.