Dark River

Sandy earth shifted beneath his paws. He blinked open his eyes. A wall of jagged rock loomed ahead of him. Rolling heather rippled behind him in the wind. The sky overhead was black, studded with stars. At the top of the rock wall, he saw cats silhouetted against the night sky. None looked familiar and when he sniffed the air, Jaypaw recognized the scent only from those he had smelled at the Moonpool, when ancient Clans had brushed pelts with him on the paw-worn path to the pool.

Suddenly, one cat broke away from the others and bounded down the steep slope, a young tom with muscular shoulders beneath his sleek ginger-and-white pelt. A she-cat scrambled after him. The others remained at the top, their tails flicking nervously.

“Take care,” the she-cat called, landing lightly on the sand.

The tom brushed muzzles with her. “I will see you at dawn, I promise.” He turned to face the cliff and, for the first time, Jaypaw realized there was a crack in the rock immediately behind him.

The tom padded toward it. Jaypaw tried to step out of the way but the tom stepped through him as though he wasn’t there. As their spirits crossed, Jaypaw felt a shudder of foreboding. This cat had never entered the rock before. He was frightened. As his tail disappeared into the shadows, Jaypaw’s belly fluttered with excitement. He had to know where the cat was going. Quickly he slipped in after him.

Darkness swallowed him and for a moment Jaypaw wondered if he had woken up and was blind once more. But then he heard the soft pad of the tom’s paws ahead and Jaypaw sensed space opening into the hillside, a narrow passageway that led straight into the rock.

Fear spiked the air. Yet determination rippled out from the tom’s pelt too. The pounding of his heart seemed to make the air around them tremble and it grew louder as the tunnel opened into a cave. Pale light glowed overhead, streaming through a small gap in the roof. The arching walls were filled with more openings; the tunnels must spread like roots beneath the moor. Rushing water echoed around the rocks.

Jaypaw saw with surprise that there was a river cutting through the cave and flowing away into yet another tunnel, the water black as night.

“Fallen Leaves?”

Jaypaw jerked his head up. An old cat was calling to the tom from a high ledge near the moonlit gap. Fallen Leaves?

The tom jumped.

“I can feel your surprise,” the old cat croaked.

Jaypaw stared at the ancient cat. Its pelt was nothing but a few tufts of fur, its eyes were white and bulging and stared sightlessly down.

I hope my eyes don’t look like that!

Fallen Leaves knew this cat would be here—Jaypaw could sense understanding and recognition between the two cats—but the young tom had clearly not expected him to be so ugly.

The old cat ran a paw over something smooth and pale—a bare branch clasped beneath his twisted claws.

Jaypaw stiffened. My stick! He strained to hear what the ancient cat was saying.

“…I must stay close to our warrior ancestors; those who have taken their place beneath the earth.”

“And for that we thank you,” Fallen Leaves murmured.

“Don’t thank me,” the old cat growled. “It was a destiny I was bound to follow. Besides, you may not feel so grateful to me once your initiation has begun.” He ran a long claw over the lines scratched into the branch.

Fear pulsed from the young tom and swept Jaypaw like an icy wind. What was he so afraid of? Jaypaw looked back up at the ledge.

The old cat was shaking his head. “I cannot help you. To become a sharpclaw, you must guide yourself through these tunnels and find your own way out. I can only send you on your way with the blessing of our ancestors.”

A sharpclaw? Was that like a warrior? Jaypaw suddenly understood the young tom’s fear and his determination. It wasn’t just the darkness he faced, but his future.

“Is it raining?” the old cat asked suddenly.

Jaypaw saw Fallen Leaves stiffen.

“The sky is clear.” But Jaypaw sensed doubt flicker in the young cat’s mind.

The old cat ran his claw once more over the lines etched in the branch. “Then begin.”

Fallen Leaves leaped across the river and headed into the tunnel that opened beneath the old cat’s ledge. Jaypaw bounded after him, relieved that he could see. He wouldn’t want to cross the river blind. He shuddered as he imagined falling in and being sucked into the tunnel. Forcing away the thought, he followed Fallen Leaves into blackness once more.

This way leads up!

Jaypaw felt the realization cross Fallen Leaves’s mind as clearly as if he’d said it out loud. Jaypaw weaved after him through the darkness. The rocky tunnel was smooth beneath his paws. What had made it so slick? It wound upward, narrowing and then widening, turning first one way, then the other.