“However much we miss Foxheart,” Raggedstar went on, “the Clan needs a new deputy. I say these words in the presence of her body, that her spirit may hear and approve my choice. Cloudpelt will be the new deputy of ShadowClan.”
Both Cloudpelt and Brokentail looked equally astonished. Yellowfang could see bitter disappointment in Brokentail’s eyes, and he bared his teeth in a snarl.
“Wow!” Runningpaw whispered. “I guess we all know who was hoping to be deputy!”
Cloudpelt rose to his paws and stammered, “Th-thank you, Raggedstar. I promise I will serve my Clan well.”
Raggedstar jumped down from the Clanrock while the rest of the Clan raised their voices in yowls of welcome to Cloudpelt. Yellowfang could see that he was a popular choice. She was pleased with the decision, too; she knew that Cloudpelt would make a far better leader than Foxheart, if she had lived.
Then Yellowfang spotted Brokentail cornering Raggedstar as the Clan leader tried to return to his den. I need to hear what they’re saying! Unobtrusively she eased her way over to them, halting in the shadow of the Clanrock.
“I should have been made deputy!” Brokentail growled. “The rat attack was my idea, and it worked!”
Raggedstar gazed at him with slitted eyes. “Use your brain,” he snapped. “I’m your father, and I have to be careful not to show favoritism in front of the other warriors. Besides, you need an apprentice before you can be deputy. But don’t worry. I’ve many seasons left in me, and if anything should happen to Cloudpelt, it will be your turn next.”
The thaw came and gradually newleaf crept through the forest. Pushing her way through a fresh growth of fern, Yellowfang reveled in the feeling of the sun on her thick pelt, and the sight of green shoots springing up everywhere in the frost-burned forest. Nightpelt, who had accompanied her, jumped up to swipe at a butterfly that was fluttering above the grass. Yellowfang watched him fondly as he chased it, reflecting that his cough was much better now that he wasn’t trying to keep up with all the warrior duties.
“Are you a kit?” she teased him as he came panting back to her.
“Not anymore,” Nightpelt replied with a mrrow of amusement. “I guess I’m just enjoying the sunshine.” He took a deep breath with jaws parted. “And all the prey-scent. I’m sure there’s a mouse around here somewhere.” He began to follow the scent trail and disappeared into a thick stretch of ferns. Moments later Yellowfang heard a gasp, and then his voice was raised in a startled yelp.
“Yellowfang, come here!”
Yellowfang pushed her way through the ferns. When she emerged on the other side, she found herself gazing at a small hawthorn tree. One of the newest apprentices, Stumpypaw, Rowanberry’s kit, was hanging from the lowest branch by his teeth.
“Stumpypaw!” Yellowfang exclaimed. “What in the name of StarClan are you doing?”
When Stumpypaw opened his mouth to reply, he crashed to the ground in a tangle of legs and tail. “Now I’m going to be in big trouble!” he wailed as he picked himself up. “Brokentail told me I had to stay there until he came back!”
“What?” Yellowfang exchanged an incredulous look with Nightpelt. “No mentor would do that! You must have misunderstood.”
Stumpypaw hung his head. “I was chattering during battle training, so Brokentail said I needed to learn how to keep my jaws shut.”
“There must be a better way than this!” Yellowfang meowed to Nightpelt. Stumpypaw could have permanently injured his jaw!
“Not if I say so.” Yellowfang spun around at the growled words behind her and found herself facing Brokentail. “Don’t interfere with my business, medicine cat,” he warned her.
Yellowfang blinked at the savagery in his yellow eyes. “It is my business,” she insisted, trying to stay calm. “Harsh treatment like that could injure an apprentice.”
“Nonsense!” Brokentail snarled. Jerking his head at Stumpypaw, he added, “Get back to the training area.”
Stumpypaw dashed off, and Brokentail followed with a last glare at Yellowfang. “Keep out of it!” he ordered.
“I never punished him like that when he was my apprentice,” Nightpelt commented when Brokentail had disappeared.
A pang of fear shook Yellowfang. “Maybe you should have,” she muttered.
When she returned to the camp, Yellowfang spotted the other apprentice, Cinderpaw, tucking into the fresh-kill pile with his mentor, Nutwhisker. When Stumpypaw started making his way over to join them, Brokentail stood in front of him, blocking him.
“You can eat when you’ve caught enough prey to feed the elders,” he snapped.
Stumpypaw just nodded unhappily and trailed off toward the camp entrance. Yellowfang thought he looked tired out. That’s not fair! Anger smoldering inside her, she went looking for Cloudpelt.
The Clan deputy was sitting in a patch of sunlight near the warriors’ den with Amberleaf and Finchflight, discussing the best places to hunt.
“Cloudpelt, may I talk to you in private?” Yellowfang asked as she padded up.
“Sure.” Cloudpelt rose to his paws and drew her away a couple of fox-lengths so no cat could overhear them. “What is it?”
Yellowfang mustered her courage, knowing that not even a medicine cat should question the way a mentor chose to deal with his apprentice. “It’s Brokentail,” she began. “I’m not happy about his mentoring. Have you seen how he is with Stumpypaw?”
She could see from the flicker in Cloudpelt’s eyes that he knew what she was talking about. “All mentors train in different ways,” he meowed. “It’s not my place to interfere.”
“But some cat has to do something,” Yellowfang insisted. “You can’t imagine what I saw earlier today....” She told Cloudpelt the story of Stumpypaw hanging from the tree branch.
“Was Stumpypaw injured at all?” Cloudpelt asked.
“No,” Yellowfang admitted. “But he could have been!”
“In that case, I can’t get involved—and I wouldn’t want to,” Cloudpelt told her. “Look, Yellowfang, I understand your concern for every member of the Clan, but it’s been a long time since you were a warrior. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how tough it can be for apprentices!”
There was nothing more that Yellowfang could say. Dipping her head coldly to the deputy, she turned and stalked back to her own den.
“Look, I brought you a vole,” Runningpaw announced as she slipped between the boulders. “It’s really fresh.”
“Thanks, Runningpaw.” Yellowfang flopped down beside the fresh-kill and took a bite.
“Nightpelt said you had an argument with Brokentail,” Runningpaw chirped. He sniffed and then continued, “If you don’t mind me saying so, you ought to be careful what you say to that cat. He’s bad news.”
Yellowfang blinked at him, grateful for his concern. “You know,” she mewed, “it’s time you stopped being my apprentice.”
For a heartbeat Runningpaw looked horrified, until he understood what she was really saying. “You mean I can become a full medicine cat? Wow!”
“You more than deserve it,” Yellowfang told him. “I am lucky to have had you as my apprentice.”
“And I’m lucky to have had you as a mentor.”
Yellowfang snorted with amusement. “Even if I haven’t taught you how to cure your sniff yet!”
Yellowfang and Runningpaw, with the other medicine cats, sat in the dark cave of the Moonstone as they waited for the moon to shine through the hole in the roof.
“I have sad news,” Featherwhisker reported. “Goosefeather has gone to join StarClan.”
“I’m sorry,” Brambleberry meowed, with her ready sympathy. “How do you feel, being ThunderClan’s only medicine cat?”
Relieved he doesn’t have to cope with Goosefeather muttering on, Yellowfang thought, though she would never have dreamed of saying that out loud.
“I’m coping,” Featherwhisker replied. “There’s a very promising new arrival called Spottedkit. She’s already taking an interest in my herbs,
so if StarClan approves I’ll make her my apprentice.”
“I have some good news, too,” Yellowfang put in. “Tonight I’m going to make Runningpaw a full medicine cat.”
All the other medicine cats chimed in with their congratulations. In the faint starshine, Yellowfang could see that Runningpaw looked happily embarrassed.
“You’re so lucky!” Barkpaw purred.
“It will be your turn soon,” Runningpaw told him.
As he spoke the moon floated into sight, and the Moonstone woke into life, its icy radiance filling the cavern. Yellowfang rose to her paws and beckoned to Runningpaw to join her beside the shining stone. He was shivering with excitement as he padded up to her.
Yellowfang took a breath, remembering the words from her own ceremony. “I, Yellowfang, medicine cat of ShadowClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the way of a medicine cat, and with your help he will serve his Clan for many moons. Runningpaw,” she meowed, “do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between Clan and Clan, and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”
“I do,” Runningpaw replied in an awed whisper.
“Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Runningpaw, from this moment you will be known as Runningnose. Your name will be a reminder that medicine cats cannot cure everything—but we always need to have faith enough to try. StarClan honors your intelligence and your dedication. Now come, touch your muzzle to the Moonstone, and may all your dreams be good ones.”
Runningnose crept forward and rested his nose against the shining surface. Yellowfang crouched down beside him and the rest of the medicine cats took their places.
When Yellowfang closed her eyes she was immediately swept out into a place of darkness and cold. She could feel her paws standing on rock, but she couldn’t see anything. Then jagged flashes of scarlet broke up the darkness, and high-pitched shrieking battered at her ears. The shapes of kits appeared before Yellowfang’s eyes, but these were not the warm, furry bundles of her Clan’s nursery. Instead, their tiny bodies were ripped from their mothers’ bellies in fountains of blood, while the mother cats clutched at them helplessly.
Yellowfang rushed to and fro trying to save the kits from the unseen claws that were tearing them away. But her pads slipped on the blood, the stench of it filling her nose and throat. However hard she struggled, the dying kits were always just out of reach of her stretching paws.
“No! No!” she yowled.
Something hard pressed into her side. Yellowfang opened her eyes to see Runningnose poking her with one paw. His eyes were wide and scared.
“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “But you were crying out. I hope I didn’t do the wrong thing by waking you?”
“No … no, I’m fine,” Yellowfang rasped, tottering to her paws. The light from the moon had gone, and the cave was illuminated by the faint sheen of stars. In the faint glimmer she could see the other medicine cats watching her anxiously. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “It was just a bad dream.”
“It was more than that,” Runningnose insisted. “Yellowfang—”
“Enough!” Yellowfang snapped. “We only share our dreams with our leader. They are not for idle gossip!”
Whirling around, she stomped up the passage ahead of the others.
CHAPTER 33
Yellowfang crossed the clearing toward the nursery. A chilly breeze ruffled her fur, warning her that greenleaf was almost at an end. Soon the leaves would fall from the trees and another leaf-bare would set in.
At least these kits will be big and strong before then, she thought.
She was on her way to check on Featherstorm’s new litter, Molekit, Dawnkit, and Volekit. They had been born two sunrises before, so they hadn’t yet opened their eyes. As she entered the nursery she gazed with satisfaction at the three little wriggling bodies snuggling up to their mother’s belly. At least these kits aren’t the ones I saw in that terrible dream at the Moonstone.
Featherstorm raised her head to greet Yellowfang. “I’m glad you’ve come,” she meowed, looking proudly down at her kits. “I want you to listen to their chests and check their ears for mites.”
“Of course.”
Yellowfang was pretty sure that there was nothing to worry about, but she knew that an older queen like Featherstorm was bound to be concerned. Besides, she enjoyed spending time with the little squirming creatures, who approached her boldly and sniffed with eager curiosity at her, even though they couldn’t see.
While she was examining the kits, their father, Blizzardwing, popped his head through the entrance. “Everything okay?” he called. “Can I do anything?”
“We’re all fine,” Featherstorm responded with a flick of her tail. “You can fetch me a piece of fresh-kill—something nice and tasty, please. Toms!” she added to Yellowfang when Blizzardwing had disappeared. “I’ve never found them to be much use around kits.”
Hal wouldn’t have been, that’s for sure, Yellowfang thought, picturing Featherstorm’s long-ago mate from the Twolegplace. He wanted nothing to do with his kits.
She was heading back across the clearing when the sound of crashing branches broke out in the entrance tunnel. Yellowfang spun around to see Brokentail rushing in with half a rabbit in his jaws.
“Raggedstar! Raggedstar!” he yowled, dropping the rabbit in the middle of the clearing.
The Clan leader appeared from his den, while several other cats rushed up and gathered around Brokentail and the fresh-kill. The elders peered out of their den, and Runningnose came bounding out of the medicine cats’ den to join Yellowfang.
“What’s going on?” he panted.
“I don’t know,” Yellowfang replied, padding closer with Runningnose at her side. “Brokentail just came back with that fresh-kill.”
“I found this dead rabbit near the tunnel that leads to WindClan territory,” Brokentail announced, his eyes flashing with anger. “It proves that WindClan warriors have been killing prey inside ShadowClan’s borders!”
Scorchwind stepped forward with Stumpytail and Cinderfur just behind him. “We patrolled that border earlier,” he meowed, “and we didn’t find any trace of WindClan scent.”
“The rabbit is still warm,” Brokentail pointed out. “They must have just caught it! We need to attack at once!”
“Wait a moment,” Raggedstar ordered. “We need to make sure the rabbit didn’t stagger over the border wounded before dying.”
Brokentail let out a hiss of annoyance and thrust the tattered body in front of his leader. “Look! There are bitemarks in it! This was clearly an invasion!” He paused briefly and added, “If you’re too scared to challenge those prey-stealers, I’ll lead the patrol myself!”
Some of the other warriors nodded agreement, as if they were willing to go with him. Yellowfang noticed that Stumpytail and Flintfang were among them.
“Hang on!” Raggedstar exclaimed as Brokentail turned as if he was about to head off. “Of course I am not afraid. But these things need planning. Brokentail, come with me and Cloudpelt.”
When the three cats had gone, Yellowfang padded over and gave the rabbit a thorough sniff. She picked up some WindClan scent on its fur, but the bitemarks had a stronger scent of Brokentail. Yellowfang felt her neck fur begin to rise. Okay, so he carried it back to the camp, but could this be the shape of his teeth in the rabbit’s flesh? What if he caught the rabbit himself, after it strayed of its own accord under the Thunderpath? She began to shake. Should I tell Raggedstar?
Just then, Brokentail and Cloudpelt bustled out of the leader’s den and started calling to warriors to join them beside the thorn tunnel. Seizing her chance, Yellowfang took a deep breath and slipped underneath the oak roots to see Raggedstar.
“Are you sure that Brokentail is telling the truth?” she demanded boldly. “What if he caught the rabbit himself?”
Raggedstar bristle
d. “No son of mine would lie! How dare you question him?” He bared his teeth in a snarl. “Now get out of my way.”
Bruised by his fury, Yellowfang stepped aside, then followed him out of the den. She watched him race across the camp toward Brokentail, Cloudpelt, and the warriors they had gathered: Stumpytail, Flintfang, and Scorchwind. With a wave of his tail, Raggedstar hurtled through the tunnel with the patrol hard on his paws.
Runningnose padded over to her with dismay in his eyes. “Are we going to follow with herbs?”
Yellowfang shook her head. “This will just be a border skirmish. There won’t be any serious injuries.” But as she spoke her paws were itching to carry her after the patrol. The camp suddenly felt too small, as if the circle of brambles was closing in on her.
I have to get out!
“I’m going to look for comfrey,” she told Runningnose, heading for the tunnel.
“But we have plenty!” he called after her, sounding bewildered.
Yellowfang ignored him. Once out of the camp she raced toward the Thunderpath. Everything was silent. Perhaps the patrol will just set new border markers and leave, she thought hopefully.
Panting, Yellowfang emerged from the trees close to the place where the tunnel led into WindClan territory. She couldn’t see Brokentail or his patrol, but her heart sank when she sniffed around the entrance to the tunnel and scented ShadowClan warriors heading through it. Yellowfang padded forward, her pelt brushing the tunnel walls. For a few paw steps, light from the opening lit her path, but soon that faded, leaving her in the dark. She jumped, her belly lurching, as a roar sounded from overhead, echoing around the tunnel until she thought her ears would burst.