“We’re fine, honestly,” Sparkpaw protested.
“You’re fine when I say you are,” Alderpaw retorted, remembering what Jayfeather liked to say to cats who didn’t want to be fussed over.
Sparkpaw twitched her whiskers but stood still while Alderpaw examined her. In the clear light of morning he spotted a scratch on her foreleg that he had missed the night before, and he patted some of the comfrey poultice onto it.
“Thanks, that’s great,” Sparkpaw mewed. “Hey, do you know your ear’s been bleeding?”
Alderpaw hadn’t realized his ear was stinging, distracted first by the stress of the fight and then by the discussion about Needlepaw and the need to treat his Clanmates.
“Daft furball!” Sparkpaw gave him a nudge. “Hold still, and I’ll give it a lick.” Her tongue rasped swiftly over his ear. “Now I’ll dab a bit of that root on it,” she continued. “There! All done. Do you think I’d make a good medicine cat?”
“No way!” Alderpaw gave a purr of amusement. “But you’re going to be a sensational warrior!”
When he checked his other Clanmates, Alderpaw was pleased to find that although the fox had clawed out some of Cherryfall’s fur, she wasn’t actually injured.
“My shoulder still aches a bit,” Molewhisker told him, “but it’s not so bad. I think it’ll be fine once we get moving.”
“I can see a scratch on your back,” Alderpaw meowed, turning to Needlepaw. He felt slightly shy at offering help to a cat from another Clan. “Do you want me to look at it?”
“Please,” Needlepaw replied with an uncomfortable wriggle. “That mange-pelted fox threw me into a gorse bush, and it hurts.”
Examining her more closely, Alderpaw saw that a couple of thorns were sticking into Needlepaw’s back, and she had a nasty scrape clotted with dried blood.
“You’ve picked up some thorns,” Alderpaw mewed. “Crouch down and I’ll get them out.”
Needlepaw flattened herself, and Alderpaw managed to get his teeth into the shanks of the thorns and yank them out, then spit them onto the ground. A trace of blood welled up where they had been.
“Now comfrey root,” Alderpaw continued. “This will take the pain away.”
She stretched and relaxed as the comfrey juices soaked into her back. “Thanks, Alderpaw. You must be a really good medicine cat, because I feel better already. And hungry!”
Alderpaw’s pelt grew hot with embarrassment at Needlepaw’s praise, and he was glad to step back as Cherryfall organized a hunting patrol. She and Molewhisker, Sparkpaw, and Needlepaw headed off into the trees, while Alderpaw stayed with Sandstorm.
“You’re doing a good job, Alderpaw,” Sandstorm murmured when the others had gone.
Alderpaw ducked his head. “Thanks, Sandstorm.” He wasn’t sure he deserved the compliment, but he felt himself filling up with happiness like a hollow filling up with rain.
Sunhigh was still some way off when the hunting patrol returned. Molewhisker and Sparkpaw were each carrying mice, while Cherryfall had a vole. Alderpaw’s eyes stretched wide with amazement when he spotted Needlepaw with her prey. She was dragging along a pigeon and a squirrel, both of them so big that she could hardly manage them. She picked up her pace to stride ahead to the bottom of the hollow, where Alderpaw and Sandstorm were sunning themselves beside the pool, and dropped her catch at their paws.
Alderpaw tried hard to hide how impressed he was, but he was sure that Needlepaw could tell.
“Not bad, huh?” she meowed. “You don’t regret having me around now, do you? And I got even more than that!”
Sparkpaw and the others caught up and put down their own prey. Alderpaw could see that his sister looked a bit annoyed to be outdone by Needlepaw, and kept casting sidelong glances at her.
“It’s true,” she meowed to Sandstorm. “Needlepaw did catch more than the squirrel and the pigeon. She caught a big, fat rat.”
“So where is it?” Sandstorm asked.
“Needlepaw already ate it!” Sparkpaw sounded outraged. “She ate it herself! That’s against the warrior code.”
Alderpaw would never have said so out loud, but he felt that it wasn’t their place to teach Needlepaw about the warrior code. She’s not part of our Clan, and even if she did eat the rat, she still brought back more prey than the other three put together!
“Let’s all just eat and relax a bit,” Sandstorm responded to Sparkpaw; her voice sounded weary. “We’ve had an exhausting time, and we could all do with a good meal and some rest.”
Sparkpaw said no more, though she ruffled up her fur indignantly and glared at Needlepaw, who seemed quite untroubled by her complaints.
“Let’s eat,” Needlepaw mewed. “Come on, Alderpaw, you can share my squirrel.”
Sharp pangs of hunger were clawing through Alderpaw’s belly, and every mouthful of the squirrel seemed like the best prey he had ever tasted. But as he sat up again and used one paw to clean his whiskers, he noticed that his sister had disappeared.
“Where’s Sparkpaw?” he asked, an uneasy feeling prickling his pads. Suppose those foxes came back . . . but then there would have been a fight. She wouldn’t just vanish!
The ThunderClan cats scattered around the hollow, looking for Sparkpaw, crying out her name. There was no response, but then Sandstorm called to them from the bush where she and Alderpaw had made the nest the night before.
“She’s here!”
Alderpaw bounded up to see his sister cozily curled up among the ferns, her tail wrapped over her nose. She was snoring softly.
“Should we wake her up?” Cherryfall asked, as his Clanmates clustered around.
“I think she’s got the right idea,” Molewhisker commented, stretching his jaws into an enormous yawn.
“Yes, let’s let her sleep,” Sandstorm agreed. “In fact, I think we should all sleep for a while.”
Alderpaw thought that Sandstorm looked particularly exhausted. Though he said nothing, he was beginning to realize that this journey, especially with her injury, was taking more out of her than she was willing to admit.
“Who will keep watch?” he asked as the others were settling down in the nest. “We know there are foxes around.”
I should volunteer, he thought, trying to ignore the weariness weighing down his limbs. This is my quest, after all. We wouldn’t be on this trip if it weren’t for my vision, and even though I didn’t ask for it, I’m responsible for them all.
“I’ll do it.” Needlepaw, who had taken no part in the search, strolled up from the pool, flicking drops of water off her whiskers. “I don’t need much sleep anyway, and now that my belly’s full, I could go on for days.”
Thanking Needlepaw, Alderpaw curled up in the nest and closed his eyes with a sigh of relief.
But instead of sinking into a refreshing sleep, he found himself standing on a bleak moorland hillside with tendrils of white mist wreathing around him. The sky glittered with stars, and somewhere in the distance shrieks of distress split the silence of the night.
His pelt tingling with fear, Alderpaw padded in the direction of the cries. Dark shapes began to appear through the mist, and as he drew closer, he realized that they were cats, standing in a circle and crying out their anguish to the stars.
“Help us! Oh, help us!”
Alderpaw’s chest heaved and his breath came faster; he felt the cats’ suffering as if it were his own. I know these cats! He recognized Leafstar, the SkyClan leader from his previous vision, and the big ginger tom, her deputy, Sharpclaw. Farther around the circle was the small silver tabby Echosong, the Clan medicine cat, and beside her was the young black-and-white cat he had seen made into a warrior. And there were many, many more, all raising their voices in fear and pain.
“Help us! Help us!”
“I’m here!” Alderpaw gasped out, bounding forward until he stood just outside the circle. “I’ll help you! Tell me what to do.”
But the cats seemed not to hear him. Not even Echosong turned in his directi
on. Their terrible wailing continued as if they had no idea he was there.
“I’m doing my best!” Alderpaw tried to draw closer still, but something held him back from touching any cat or entering their circle. “Look, I’m here! I’ll do anything you need me to do.”
Still the cats couldn’t hear him. Their cries grew more and more frantic until, with a jolt, Alderpaw woke.
For a couple of heartbeats he lay trembling among the moss and ferns. Another vision . . . what did it mean? he wondered. Those cats must really be in trouble!
As he sat up, Alderpaw realized that his Clanmates had vanished. Scrambling out of the nest, he spotted them lounging by the pool, nibbling on the leftover fresh-kill. The sun had dipped low over the trees, filling the hollow with golden light.
Alderpaw dashed down to join them. “We need to get moving as soon as we can!” he exclaimed.
Cherryfall blinked lazily at him. “What’s the rush?” she asked. “It’s not like the place you saw is going to disappear.”
Alderpaw couldn’t explain his sense of urgency. Only Sandstorm will understand. I’ve got to talk to her. “Sandstorm,” he meowed, “come over here and let me check your wound again before we move off.”
With a twitch of her ears Sandstorm got up and padded beside Alderpaw to where he had left the remains of the comfrey root. He glanced back swiftly to make sure that they were out of earshot of the other cats.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, her brief irritation vanishing. “I can see this isn’t just about my wound.”
“I had another vision,” Alderpaw told her. “I saw the SkyClan cats in a circle, wailing and wailing as if they were in terrible pain. They sounded so frightened! And they didn’t hear me when I spoke to them and offered to help.”
Sandstorm nodded understandingly. “Now I see why you’re so keen to get going,” she meowed. “That’s all we can do, Alderpaw. Just get to the place you saw as soon as we can.”
Thank StarClan some cat gets it! Alderpaw thought. But in spite of his urgency, he reached out a paw to stop Sandstorm as she turned to rejoin the others. “I meant it about looking at your wound.”
Sandstorm sat down with a grunt of annoyance. “If you must.”
Alderpaw’s belly lurched as he scraped away the comfrey root poultice from Sandstorm’s injured shoulder. The wound was slightly red and swollen, and when he laid his paw gently on it, he could feel heat rising from it.
“This could be the beginning of an infection,” he told Sandstorm, trying not to let his voice shake. “You really shouldn’t be traveling until it’s healed. Or at the very least,” he added, as Sandstorm opened her jaws to protest, “you should rest a bit more while I go and look for some horsetail or marigold to treat the infection. Honey would help, too.”
“You sure have learned a lot,” Sandstorm meowed, her approving gaze showing how impressed she was. “But we can’t hang around here while you go looking for horsetail. If we pass some on the way, then you can gather some.”
“But—” Alderpaw began.
“Until then, you have to trust me,” Sandstorm interrupted. “I’m fine. You may be a medicine cat, but I’ve been around a long time. I’ve had a lot of wounds in my day, and this one isn’t so bad.” Briefly she touched Alderpaw’s shoulder with her tail-tip. “It’s certainly not worth turning aside from our quest, especially after that terrible vision you just had.”
Once again Alderpaw struggled to protest. “But your wound—”
“You have to trust me,” Sandstorm repeated. “This is your quest, but I am your elder.”
Although he still was uneasy, Alderpaw didn’t feel that he could argue with Sandstorm anymore. He dipped his head in acceptance; then Sandstorm rose, and the two cats began to walk back toward their Clanmates, side by side.
But before they reached them, Alderpaw spotted sleek silver fur in the midst of a clump of long grass. He realized that Needlepaw was crouched only a couple of tail-lengths away from where he and Sandstorm had been talking. Her gaze locked with Alderpaw’s, but he couldn’t interpret her expression.
How much did she overhear?
CHAPTER 13
The cats trekked on through the woods as the sun sank lower in the sky. Sandstorm had taken the lead again, with Alderpaw just behind her, Needlepaw stalking along a little way away from the others, and the rest of the ThunderClan cats bringing up the rear.
Alderpaw still felt tired, and he guessed the others did too. Their paws were dragging, and although no cat was talking much, he picked up occasional snatches of complaints from the cats behind him.
“I don’t see why we had to leave so quickly,” Molewhisker grumbled. “What’s the rush?”
“Yeah, we could have stayed the night there,” Sparkpaw added.
Glancing back, Alderpaw wished he could tell them the truth. “I just wanted to get going,” he explained.
Sparkpaw snorted but made no reply in words.
Before long the trees thinned out, and Alderpaw could see open country ahead. In the distance he spotted a huge Twoleg structure built of some kind of yellow stone. I wonder what that is.
As they set out across the open ground, Needlepaw came sidling over to Alderpaw until she was padding close by his side. Alderpaw felt uncomfortable having a cat from another Clan so close to him, even though she seemed to be losing her harsh ShadowClan scent.
“You know when you were talking to Sandstorm back there?” she murmured, leaning close to speak into Alderpaw’s ear. “Well, I overheard everything!”
Alderpaw started, and his neck fur bristled with anxiety and dismay. Oh, no! Now she knows the real reason we’re on this quest. After Bramblestar told me no other cats should know. And she isn’t even a ThunderClan cat. Then, as he met Needlepaw’s green gaze, he realized that she didn’t look altogether confident. Could she be bluffing? Well, two can play at that game.
“Oh, really?” he responded, trying to keep his voice casual and forcing his neck fur to lie flat. “Well, it can’t have done you much good, unless you want to know more about comfrey root.”
“Comfrey root!” Needlepaw let out a mrrow of laughter. “Oh yes, and the rest!”
“What ‘rest’?” Alderpaw asked. “It’s not like we were discussing anything important.”
Needlepaw cast a quick glance around to make sure they were out of earshot of the other cats. “It wouldn’t have been anything about your vision, would it?”
“What are you meowing about?” Alderpaw was getting flustered, wondering how much Needlepaw had worked out for herself, and how much she could only have learned if she had heard the whole of his conversation with Sandstorm. “If you must know, we were talking about cats who might need our help.”
“How noble of you,” Needlepaw purred. “Which cats would they be?”
“Well . . . any cats. I’m a medicine cat. Helping is what I do.”
“Hmm . . .” Needlepaw twitched her whiskers thoughtfully. “Cats who need help . . . and your vision . . . and this quest for what will clear the sky. It’s all starting to add up, isn’t it?”
Alderpaw felt cold from his ears to his tail-tip. Guiltily he realized that if Needlepaw was only pretending to have overheard, he had given away more than he should have.
However much she knows, he thought with a shiver, it’s enough to cause a problem. And that gives her power. She’ll have to stay with us now, whether we want her or not.
“Hey, look at that.” Cherryfall’s mew cut into Alderpaw’s thoughts. He looked up ahead and saw that the group was now very close to the big yellow Twoleg den he had seen in the distance.
“Let’s go explore it!” Sparkpaw suggested with a bounce of excitement.
Molewhisker shook his head. “It’s a Twoleg thing, and it’s better to stay away from Twolegs.”
“I’m guessing that it’s a barn like the one at the horseplace,” Sandstorm told them. “This must be a farm—look, you can see more Twoleg dens just beyond it. My advice would be
to keep well away from it.”
Alderpaw agreed, but before the cats had gone much farther, their path was blocked by a tall fence. It was made of interlinked tendrils of some hard, shiny stuff, topped by fearsome-looking spikes.
“Now what do we do?” Cherryfall asked, dismayed.
The fence stretched into the distance on either side; Alderpaw realized it would take far too long to go around it. While he was hesitating, Sparkpaw stepped forward and sniffed at the bottom of the fence.
“Maybe we could try going under it,” she suggested.
“What are we, rabbits?” Needlepaw muttered, while Sparkpaw scraped experimentally at the earth where the fence disappeared into the grass.
“No,” she reported, with a discouraged shake of her head. “It seems to go a long way down into the ground.”
“Then maybe there’s a hole that we can fit through,” Molewhisker mewed.
Alderpaw led the way along the fence for a few fox-lengths, but everywhere it was strong and intact. Only a mouse could have slipped through the gaps between the tendrils.
“There’s only one thing to do,” Needlepaw announced at last. “We’ll have to go over it.”
“You’ve grown wings, have you?” Sparkpaw muttered sarcastically.
Needlepaw ignored her. “I’ll go first,” she meowed. “It doesn’t look that hard. Watch.”
Every cat watched nervously as she began to climb, fitting her paws into the narrow spaces between the shiny tendrils. The fence bobbed and swayed alarmingly, but Needlepaw kept going until she reached the very top, her paws balancing between the spikes.
“Be careful!” Sandstorm called out.
For a moment Alderpaw was certain that Needlepaw would impale herself on the sharp spikes. But then, bunching and stretching her muscles, she flung herself off the top of the bobbing fence and landed neatly on the other side.
“Easy!” she called out, giving her shoulder a smug lick.
“If she can do it, so can I,” Sparkpaw mewed, swarming up the fence the same way Needlepaw had, then leaping gracefully down on the far side.