She sent out her senses and felt a shudder deep within her as she discovered that for the first time she couldn’t connect with the world she had left behind. There were too many sounds, too many impressions in between.

I’m a long, long way from home.

CHAPTER 10

Ivypool blinked open her eyes to see the pale light of the Dark Forest all around her. She was curled up in the shade of an elder bush, its leaves casting dark patterns on her silver-white fur. Yawning, she scrambled to her paws and slid out. The trees clustered close together here, their branches entwined over Ivypool’s head. It was a relief not to be able to see the starless sky, always the most frightening reminder that she wasn’t in ThunderClan.

“But it still feels a long, long way from home,” she muttered.

Tasting the air, she picked up the scent of many cats, and heard voices coming faintly from among the trees several fox-lengths away. Ivypool padded in that direction and found herself on the edge of a clearing. Halting, she peered out from the shelter of a clump of bracken. Hawkfrost stood in the center with a ragged circle of younger cats around him. Ivypool recognized Tigerheart and Breezepelt, and a white RiverClan she-cat whose name she couldn’t remember. Others weren’t familiar at all.

Hawkfrost’s ice-blue eyes shone in the pallid light. “In a battle, you won’t be fighting one-on-one,” he meowed. “Cats will come at you from all directions, and you have to be ready. Now, I want all of you to attack me at once.”

“All of us?” Breezepelt sounded disbelieving.

“That’s what I said.” Hawkfrost’s voice had an edge. “I’ll take you on by myself later, if you want.”

“No, that’s fine, Hawkfrost,” Breezepelt answered hastily.

Mouse-brain! Ivypool thought.

“Okay.” Hawkfrost’s icy gaze traveled over the group of younger cats. “Attack—now!”

For a moment Ivypool lost sight of the dark tabby warrior as he was buried under a squirming heap of screeching, yowling cats. Then his head reappeared, as if he was trying to swim in a lake of fur. In spite of her dislike of Hawkfrost, Ivypool drew in a breath of admiration as he recovered his paws, lashing out at his attackers. His legs were a blur of motion. His jaws seemed to be everywhere, snapping and tearing. First one, then another of the attacking cats reared back, until Hawkfrost stood alone once again, ruffled and panting but with no injuries that Ivypool could see.

That was awesome, she admitted reluctantly. Almost against her will, her paws were itching to learn how Hawkfrost had managed that.

“Now,” the tabby warrior went on when he had caught his breath, “who can tell me what you’ve learned today?”

“Stay away from your claws,” Tigerheart muttered, licking one bleeding paw.

A murmur of amusement rose from the young cats, but Hawkfrost didn’t share it. “Anything useful?” he prompted.