A wail rose in her throat and she swallowed to keep it down. Her pelt stood on end and she felt her paws start to tremble. Surely Fallen Leaves would notice she wasn’t behind him? Or would he assume she’d found a different way back? She’d been running so confidently after him. Hollyleaf took a step forward and her head thudded against rock. Reeling, she jumped sideways and hit her shoulder against the opposite wall. Had the tunnel shrunk? Were the walls closing in on her, slowly crushing her to nothing?
“Hollyleaf!” A whisper beside her made Hollyleaf almost jump out of her skin. “Are you okay?” Fallen Leaves asked, coming closer until his muzzle touched her ears. “What happened?”
“I didn’t know where you were!” Hollyleaf burst out. “It was so dark, and I thought I could hear you but it was only my own paw steps! Then I hit the walls and I thought you’d lost me!”
“I’ll never do that, I promise,” Fallen Leaves murmured into her ear. “You will never be lost down here, because you have me. Come on, I’ll take you back.”
With his head close to hers, he led Hollyleaf along the tunnel, slowing his pace as she limped beside him. They emerged into the cavern, waded through the river, and headed back into the tunnel where Hollyleaf’s nest lay. She collapsed into the feathers, feeling grateful for their warmth against her chilled fur. Her leg throbbed and Fallen Leaves pushed some poppy seeds toward her.
“Eat these—they’ll help you sleep,” he prompted. He turned to leave but Hollyleaf lifted her head.
“Can... can you stay here tonight?” she mewed. “I don’t want to be alone in the dark again. There’s room in my nest if I shift over.”
Fallen Leaves hesitated, then stepped into the circle of feathers. “Okay, just for one night,” he meowed. He curled next to her somewhat awkwardly, and Hollyleaf wriggled to give him more room. The poppy seeds were working and her eyelids felt heavy. She uncurled until her spine was pressed against Fallen Leaves’s flank. For a moment it was like being back in the hollow, sharing her nest with Cinderheart. Hollyleaf breathed deeply and started to drift into sleep. But just before the limpid blackness filled her mind, she flinched. Why am I so cold? There was no warmth coming from Fallen Leaves’s pelt at all. Had living underground chilled him right to the bone?
CHAPTER 4
“Hey! Wake up! It’s time for the morning patrol!”
Hollyleaf rolled over and rubbed a paw over her eyes. Fallen Leaves was looking down at her, his tail curled high over his back.
“Come on, sleepy slug!” he teased.
Hollyleaf scrambled up. She had been dreaming that she was back in ThunderClan, chasing a squirrel that got tinier and tinier the closer she came. Just as she reached out to grab it, the squirrel had vanished completely.
She peered past Fallen Leaves to look at the pale yellow light slanting into the tunnel. The angle between the beam of light and the roof was narrower today, which meant the sun was lower in the sky. Hollyleaf tipped her head to one side. She’d been here... how many moons? Three or four, at least. Leaf-fall must be creeping into the woods outside, turning the trees gold and scarlet. Hollyleaf wondered if it would get colder in the tunnels. She prodded her nest with her foot. She’d need to find more feathers.
Fallen Leaves was trotting away from her. “I’ll take the moor-tunnel today,” he called over his shoulder. “And you can check the woods-tunnel.”
He had come up with names for the two main exit tunnels that didn’t lead back into ThunderClan territory. They never went into those tunnels; without saying anything out loud, Hollyleaf knew that Fallen Leaves was trying to keep her distracted from her former home. She had chosen to stay with him, so that must be what she wanted, right? When she had told him about daily life in the Clans, with border and hunting patrols and ceremonies for apprentices and warriors, he had suggested doing the same down here. Now each day started with a patrol of the exit tunnels—not that they ever found anything in the empty stone pathways—followed by fishing in the underground river. Hollyleaf had learned to hook minnows with her paw almost as smoothly as Fallen Leaves, and she had grown used to the strong, watery taste. She could run through the dark confidently now, detecting the faintest breezes on her whiskers and picking up the tiniest echoes of flowing water from the river to locate where she was. When she was patrolling an exit tunnel, she only went as far as the light that spilled in from the mouth, hanging back as if it would burn her paws. She belonged in the shadows now, hiding from daylight and the sound of the wind in the trees.
Hollyleaf shivered. She had shelter, food, and company. Wasn’t that more than she deserved, after what she had done? Fallen Leaves was much less demanding than her old Clanmates; he let her eat all the fish they caught together, and he never spent so long with her that she grew tired of his company. In fact, he often left her alone, especially at night. Hollyleaf wondered where he slept; she thought she’d explored all the tunnels by now, but she’d never seen signs of another nest.
“Come on!” Fallen Leaves’s voice echoed down the tunnel, and Hollyleaf broke into a run. She caught up with him in the river-cave and they stood side by side, looking down at the water. It was flowing more quickly today, and little waves spilled over the edges of the stone gully.
“It rained last night,” Fallen Leaves explained.
Hollyleaf felt a flash of alarm. “Is the river going to flood?”
Fallen Leaves shook his head. “Not yet.” He walked over to a corner and came back rolling a large flat stone with his muzzle. He nudged it to the edge of the wet line left by splashing waves. “We’ll use this as a marker to see if the river rises any more.”
Hollyleaf ran her paw over the stone. It felt smooth, like an egg. “That’s a good idea,” she commented.
“It’s what the sharpclaws told me to do,” Fallen Leaves meowed. “Before I came down here for my initiation.”
Hollyleaf looked up at him sharply. Fallen Leaves had mentioned once before that he had gotten lost in the tunnels while training to be a sharpclaw, which seemed to be the same as a Clan warrior. He wouldn’t tell her anything else about his Clan, or Tribe, or whatever his kin had called themselves.
“If you went back now,” she mewed gently, “you’d be one of the greatest sharpclaws ever. You may have gotten lost once, but you know these tunnels better than any cat! If finding your way through the tunnels is supposed to teach you to be strong, brave, and independent, you are all of those things! You’d be a hero!”
Fallen Leaves stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Go back?” he hissed. “I can’t go back! Don’t you understand? It’s too late!” Shaking with distress, he whirled around and raced into the tunnel that led to WindClan, the one they called the moor-tunnel.
“Wait!” Hollyleaf called, running after him. But she stopped when she reached the edge of the river-cave. All she had were questions for Fallen Leaves, and she didn’t want to make him more upset. The thought flashed in her mind that she might not be the only one fleeing from a terrible secret. She had never told Fallen Leaves what had happened with Ashfur; perhaps she had more in common with her new companion than she realized.
She turned and padded back across the cave. The entrance to the woods-tunnel was on the far side of the river, and today it took a much bigger leap to clear the gully. Hollyleaf yelped as her hind paws splashed into the edge of the water and showered her belly fur with icy droplets. As she entered the tunnel she broke into a run to warm herself up.
The rough gray walls on each side emerged from the darkness as she neared the entrance. The wind was blowing directly into the tunnel, filling Hollyleaf’s mouth with scents of drying leaves and brittle grass. She padded closer until the light spilled over her paws. She lifted up one and looked at her pad in surprise. It was pale and tough from moons of running on stone. Suddenly Hollyleaf longed to feel soft, green grass under her feet, and to see the sky, vast and full of light, above her. She felt herself pulled toward the mouth of the tunnel as if she were a twig on a river. O
utside!
The light grew stronger and Hollyleaf screwed up her eyes. It wasn’t sunshine—this light was cool and gray—but it was brighter than anything she’d seen in a long while. The entrance to the tunnel was a circle of dazzling white, too painful to look at directly. Suddenly there was a crashing noise beyond the brightness, the sound of branches cracking beneath heavy paws. Then a volley of barking, mixed with a high-pitched yipping. Hollyleaf winced as the noise hit her ears; she was used to the heavy silence of the tunnels. She shrank back against the wall, too startled to know which way to run. There was an explosion of paw steps at the entrance and a huge dark shape burst through the light. At the same time a wave of stench hit Hollyleaf’s nose. Fox!
Fear rooted her paws to the ground. The intruder crashed into her, bounced off the opposite wall, then turned and stared back the way it had come, taking no notice of Hollyleaf cowering in the corner. A head was thrust through the circle of light at the mouth of the tunnel. A long pink tongue hung from dripping jaws, and huge ears flopped down on either side of mean yellow eyes. The fox let out a yelp and scrabbled backward, squashing Hollyleaf against the wall of the tunnel. She held her breath, dizzy with terror. The dog at the entrance growled and took a step toward them. It blocked out the light so that its features vanished and all Hollyleaf could see was the faint outline of its massive shoulders. The fox crouched down, filling Hollyleaf’s nose with soft, tickly fur. She longed to sneeze but couldn’t risk being discovered.
There was a shout from outside—a deep Twoleg voice, raised in anger—and the dog’s ears twitched. A moment later it jerked backward, and Hollyleaf squinted into the glare to see the Twoleg holding the dog’s collar with one fat, pink paw. The dog whined as it was dragged away. The fox relaxed, giving Hollyleaf just enough room to slide gently back. It was only a cub, no taller than she was, and its fur smelled of milk and earth from its den.
Suddenly Hollyleaf heard a fierce whisper. “What’s happening? Are you all right?” Fallen Leaves was standing just around the curve in the tunnel. She ran toward him. His eyes gleamed like moons in the half light.
“Look out!” Hollyleaf hissed. “There’s a fox behind me! Run!”
CHAPTER 5
Hollyleaf tucked her nose under her tail and tried to shut out the noise that drifted down the tunnels to her nest. The fox cub was still somewhere underground, whimpering in the dark. Why hadn’t it left? Was it afraid that the dog was waiting for it? Hollyleaf sniffed and wriggled deeper into the feathers. The high-pitched whine broke through, niggling her like thorns.
Hollyleaf sat up. For StarClan’s sake, shut up! There was no way she could sleep through this noise. She hopped out of her nest and padded along the tunnel to the river-cave. It was filled with a pale gray wash of starlight. Fallen Leaves was sitting at the edge of the water.
“Can you hear the fox?” Hollyleaf asked irritably.
Fallen Leaves shrugged. “It’ll find its way out eventually.”
“But it’s keeping me awake!” Hollyleaf complained. Doesn’t Fallen Leaves need to sleep too?
The fox let out a loud yelp, as if it could hear them talking. Hollyleaf felt a rush of pity. She knew what it felt like to be lost and frightened in the dark. “Maybe I should go find it,” she murmured.
Fallen Leaves stared at her in surprise. “But it’s a fox!”
“It’s a baby,” she countered. “You wouldn’t leave a kit down here, would you?”
“A kit wouldn’t try to eat me,” Fallen Leaves pointed out.
“I’m too much of a mouthful for this cub,” Hollyleaf assured him, hoping that was true. The fox had smelled strongly of milk, which meant it probably wasn’t eating fresh-kill yet. And it certainly hadn’t noticed it was sitting on top of prey when the dog chased it into the hole. She shook out her fur and started toward the woods-tunnel.
“You’re not really going to look for it, are you?” Fallen Leaves sounded astonished.
“Yes, if it means I can get some sleep,” meowed Hollyleaf. “If I’m not back by dawn, come and fetch me, okay?” she added, only half-joking.
“Of course,” Fallen Leaves replied somberly.
The darkness felt even more solid than usual, and Hollyleaf struggled against the urge to turn tail and flee back to the river-cave. The fox cub’s whimpering echoed off the walls, confusing her senses and disorienting her. She paused when she felt cold air blowing on one side of her head. There was an opening to another tunnel here; had the cub gone this way? She listened for a moment. There was a tiny scraping noise, as if soft pads were shuffling against the stone. If the fox really had gone down here, it would be truly stuck, because this particular tunnel got narrower and narrower until it ended abruptly in a rockfall. Which meant that if Hollyleaf followed the cub, she could get trapped in a dead end....
Hollyleaf took a deep breath and stepped into the tunnel. Almost at once, the fox let out a shriek as if it had heard her approaching. “It’s all right, I’m not going to hurt you!” Hollyleaf called into the darkness. There was a fast scrabbling sound, and a wave of fox-scented fear rolled down the passage toward her. Hollyleaf reminded herself that this was just a lost and scared youngster, so she wasn’t in any danger. She padded closer. “Hush, don’t be frightened,” she murmured.
The scrabbling stopped, and Hollyleaf guessed the fox was pressed against the rockfall with nowhere else to go. It let out the tiniest whine. “Poor little scrap,” Hollyleaf mewed, as if she were comforting a kit. “Did you get lost?”
She took another step forward, and her muzzle bumped against soft, strong-smelling fur. Trying not to gag, Hollyleaf gave it a lick. The fox tensed, rigid as a rock, then relaxed as she kept licking. Feeling bolder, Hollyleaf moved closer to where she guessed the cub’s head was. Her nose touched the tip of a feather-soft ear. “It’s all right, you’re safe now,” she whispered between licks.
The cub’s head drooped until it rested against Hollyleaf’s chest. She felt the faint tickle of its whiskers as it tucked its chin under its front paws. Hollyleaf wriggled closer until her body was curled around as much of the fox as she could reach. She could feel its breath slowing and becoming steadier. She stopped licking and rested her head on the fox’s neck. “Sleep, little one,” she murmured. She pressed close to the cold fur beside her, hoping that some of her warmth would seep in. It crossed her mind that none of her former Clanmates would ever believe she had slept next to a fox. But she wasn’t in the Clan anymore, and this cub needed her, just as a kit needed its mother. Hollyleaf shifted her head into a more comfortable position and closed her eyes.
She was woken by something pinching her front leg. Was Fallen Leaves getting her attention by biting her? Hollyleaf opened her eyes to a faint gray light. A shape loomed over her, and when she looked down at her leg she saw tiny white teeth sinking into her fur. “Ow!” she yelped, scrambling free.
The fox cub tipped its head to one side and looked at her. “Yip!”
Hollyleaf backed away. The cub was bigger than she remembered, twice as broad as her across its shoulders, and its teeth were small but definitely sharp. “Okaaay,” she mewed, taking another step until she was safely out of reach. “Let’s get you out of these tunnels.”
The fox bounced to its feet, filling the space. Hollyleaf braced herself. There was no sign that the cub thought she was prey; in fact, it looked as if it wanted to play. It let out another high-pitched bark and bounced on its front feet. Hollyleaf turned and looked back over her shoulder. It went against all her instincts to have the fox behind her, because now she felt as if she was being chased. Not chased—followed, she told herself firmly. “Come on!” she meowed.
She took a few steps forward. The fox ran after her, then stopped and whined. Hollyleaf looked at the tunnel ahead. It vanished into blackness, compared with the pale light that filled this section. “It’s okay,” she told the cub. “This is the way out, I promise.” She padded into the shadows, but the fox stayed where it was. There was a soft thump
, and Hollyleaf realized it had sat down. Sighing, she turned back and squeezed in beside it. “Get up,” she urged, nudging the cub’s flank with her muzzle. “You can’t stay here!”
She jabbed its haunches with her paw and the fox jumped up with a yelp. Hollyleaf gave it another shove with her nose. “Come on, I’ll be right beside you.” The cub took a cautious step and Hollyleaf stayed close, pressing against its flank. “That’s right!” she mewed.
Slowly, they inched their way along the tunnel. The fox stopped dead when they reached the junction with the woods-tunnel, but Hollyleaf nudged and shoved and encouraged it around the corner until they could feel the breeze from outside on their faces. The fox let out a cheerful-sounding yelp and broke into a trot. Overconfident, it crashed into the opposite wall and sat down with a bump, whimpering. Hollyleaf ran forward and licked the fox’s muzzle. She couldn’t taste any blood, so it wasn’t seriously hurt. “You silly thing,” she scolded. “Stay beside me until you can see, okay?”