Pushing her head against Thistleclaw’s neck, Ivypool struggled to sink her teeth into his throat. With a grunt of effort he flung her off, and she slammed against the bottom of the log pile. Fighting for breath, Ivypool clawed her way upward, moss and fungus crumbling in her fur, until she stood on the topmost tree trunk.

“I win!” she yowled.

Thistleclaw scrambled to his paws and glared up at her. “The cat on top of the heap loses, mouse-brain,” he spat.

“But you didn’t force me up here,” Ivypool meowed triumphantly. “I climbed up myself. And I’m ready to leap down on you again—so I win!”

“I set the rules—” Thistleclaw began.

“The young one is right.” A growl interrupted him, and the shadowy form of Mapleshade stepped out from behind one of the old oaks. Ivypool wondered how long she had been standing there. “Admit defeat, Thistleclaw. Go lick your wounds.”

Thistleclaw let out a snort of disgust and spun around. As he stalked across the clearing and into the trees Ivypool was delighted to see that he was limping.

Mapleshade padded up to the bottom of the log pile and flicked her ears at Ivypool, a signal for her to descend. “I had my doubts about your loyalty,” Mapleshade rasped as Ivypool joined her. “But I’m starting to change my mind. When the battle comes, you will fight alongside me.”

“When will the battle be?” Ivypool asked, trying to sound eager in the hope that Mapleshade would give her some information she could take back to Jayfeather and Lionblaze.

“Not so fast,” Mapleshade murmured with a glint of approval in her eyes. “You may have beaten Thistleclaw, but you still have more to learn before you can take on the Clans’ most experienced warriors.”

“I just want to be ready,” Ivypool assured her.

“You will be,” Mapleshade promised. “And it won’t be long now….”

To Ivypool’s relief, Mapleshade gave her a nod of farewell and faded away into the trees. Weakened by fighting and loss of sleep, Ivypool slumped to the ground, feeling the Dark Forest fade around her as she closed her eyes.

The dusty tang of dry moss and her sister’s familiar scent tickled her nose. Letting out a long sigh, Ivypool opened her eyes. Dovewing was still asleep, lying close beside her with one paw flung over her belly. Careful not to wake her, Ivypool wriggled out from her sister’s grasp and limped out into the clearing. The sky was gray, but she guessed it must be close to sunhigh. Brackenfur, Sorreltail, and Spiderleg were gossiping beside the fresh-kill pile. Ferncloud was dozing in the entrance to the nursery while just outside the elders’ den Purdy was sitting beside Mousefur; Ivypool guessed the former loner was telling her one of his endless stories.

Brambleclaw emerged from the gorse tunnel with a squirrel dangling from his jaws, followed by Birchfall and Whitewing, both carrying mice. Rosepetal brought up the rear with a vole.

It’s all so peaceful, Ivypool thought.