He hurried to fetch some of the spare moss they kept at the side of the den. At least they had plenty of that, he thought bitterly. He quickly shaped a nest beside Mousefur, who was sleeping at last, her breathing short and irregular. And Ferncloud seemed to be comfortable, though her fever was rising as she battled the illness.
Whitewing collapsed gratefully into the nest.
“We need more catmint,” Leafpool hissed so that only Jaypaw’s sharp ears could hear.
Jaypaw sensed terror in her voice. What did she expect him to do? Grow some?
“Check all the other warriors and apprentices,” Leafpool ordered more loudly.
He nodded, then turned and headed out of the den. Why hadn’t StarClan warned them this was going to happen? Instead of lecturing him, Spottedleaf or Yellowfang could have told him that greencough was coming. He could have gathered catmint before the frost had come.
Dustpelt was pacing outside the nursery. Jaypaw recognized the warrior’s heavy pawsteps on the frozen earth and sensed the turmoil of fear that gripped his thoughts.
“How’s Ferncloud?” he demanded as soon as he saw Jaypaw.
“No worse,” Jaypaw assured him.
“Should I visit her?”
“It’s probably better if you stay away,” Jaypaw advised. “We want to stop the illness from spreading.”
Daisy wriggled out of the nursery. “Your kits are fine,” she told Dustpelt. “But if you keep hanging around here you’re going to worry them.” Jaypaw had never heard her sound so stern. “You should be out in the forest hunting; that’s the best way you can help them.”
Jaypaw felt surprise flash from Dustpelt.
“I want to know if Ferncloud gets worse,” the warrior meowed. Then he padded toward the barrier of thorns and headed out into the forest.
As Jaypaw turned toward the apprentice’s den, the dawn patrol pounded into the clearing, led by Graystripe. Hollypaw was among them, her scent laced with the fresh smells of the forest.
“How are the sick cats?” she called to Jaypaw.
“Sleeping,” Jaypaw mewed back. “How’s the prey running?” Perhaps if the rest of the Clan could fill their bellies, they might be able to resist the sickness.
“There’s hardly anything aboveground,” Hollypaw reported. “Even the squirrels are staying in their dens.”
Jaypaw closed his eyes. Where are you, StarClan? I’ve hardly had a dream without you sticking your whiskers in! Why don’t you help me now? But he heard nothing except Leafpool’s voice as she padded to his side.
“Check the apprentices, Jaypaw,” she reminded him grimly. “StarClan are watching us already. But there are some battles we have to fight alone.”
CHAPTER 23
“Dawn’s coming,” Leafpool whispered to Jaypaw. “You should get some rest.”
Jaypaw shook his head. “Not while we have so many sick cats to look after.”
He sniffed Poppypaw. The apprentice had developed a fever during the night and come to the medicine den. She lay now in a nest beside Ferncloud, her eyes sticky with pus, her breathing labored. The heat flooding from her frightened Jaypaw.
He listened, his pelt pricking with panic. The medicine den was crowded, the sound of wheezing and coughing jarred his ears, and the smell of sickness made his paws tremble with frustration. He had done everything he could to help his Clanmates, but no one was any better.
“Should we move them to the elders’ den?” he suggested to Leafpool, who was massaging Mousefur’s flank to try to help clear her breathing. “There’s more room there.”
“Mousefur and Ferncloud are too sick to move,” Leafpool pointed out. “Besides, there is water here.”
The pool of fresh water that trickled down the rock wall and gathered in a dip made it easy to soak moss for the thirsty cats. Jaypaw fetched a dripping ball of it for Poppypaw. He nudged her in an attempt to make her drink, but the tortoiseshell’s eyes were half closed, and she only groaned and pushed him away.
“If you won’t rest, at least get some fresh air,” Leafpool urged.
Jaypaw nodded. Wearily he padded out of the den. The air outside was clean and cold after the stuffy stench of the den. Even though it was barely dawn, Firestar was already below Highledge with Brambleclaw. They were organizing the patrols. Ashfur and Birchfall paced restlessly around them.
“We need to keep the patrols short,” Brambleclaw meowed to the ThunderClan leader.
“But we must make sure the ShadowClan border remains well guarded,” Ashfur pointed out. “We don’t want them to take advantage of our weakness.”
“Lots of small patrols would be more efficient,” Birchfall suggested.
“Yes,” Firestar agreed. “I don’t want our warriors to wear themselves out when there’s so much sickness around. We need them fit.”
“I can do two patrols a day.” Millie’s mew rang around the frozen hollow. The gray kittypet padded out from behind the warriors’ den, Graystripe at her side.
“Are you sure?” Firestar checked.
“I was given medicine by the vet to stop me from getting sick,” Millie explained. “Whenever other cats fell ill in Twolegplace, I always stayed well.”
Brambleclaw looked confused. “Vet?”
“The Cutter,” Graystripe explained.
“Well, it seems the Cutter has done me a favor,” Firestar meowed. “He has given me a healthy warrior.”
Firestar had called Millie a warrior.
Pleasure glowed from the she-cat, and Jaypaw heard Graystripe’s proud purr as his fur swished against hers.
“But,” Firestar went on, “I don’t want Graystripe to go with you.”
Graystripe’s purr died in his throat. “Why not?”
“You’re still weak from your journey,” Firestar replied. “And I can’t afford to lose you again. There are plenty of ways you can help in camp.” The ThunderClan leader’s voice was firm, and though Jaypaw felt Graystripe bristle with indignation, he did not challenge his old friend.
The yew bush quivered as Hollypaw and Lionpaw slid out of their den. Anxiously Jaypaw lifted his muzzle to taste their scent. He relaxed when it was clean and healthy.
“We want to go on the first patrol,” Lionpaw mewed.
“Unless the Clan needs us in camp,” Hollypaw added.
“Firestar?” Brambleclaw looked to the ThunderClan leader to decide.
Firestar swept his tail thoughtfully over the ground. “Lionpaw, you can patrol the border with Ashfur and Millie,” he meowed. “Hollypaw can hunt with Birchfall.”
“I’ll do my best,” Hollypaw promised.
Jaypaw padded over to her. “Make sure you stay away from the sick cats,” he warned. “Don’t share fresh-kill with any cat.” He glanced at Lionpaw. “And drink water as far from the camp as you can.” How would he cope if he had to watch them suffer along with his other patients? If only they had more catmint!
“Come on, Hollypaw!” Birchfall’s call was edgy with impatience, and she shot away to join him.
“We’ll join the hunt as soon as we’ve checked the border!” Ashfur called after them as they raced out of the camp.
“Don’t tire yourselves out,” Firestar warned.
“We won’t.” Lionpaw raced away from Jaypaw and pounded out of the camp behind his mentor.
A dark sense of dread pulsed across the clearing and swept Jaypaw like an icy wind. He jerked his head around and stared at Firestar. He’s terrified for us.
Paws hammered outside the thorn barrier. Squirrelflight and Sandstorm were returning to camp. Jaypaw smelled fresh-kill. They had been hunting.
“Is that all you could find?” Firestar’s greeting was sharp with shock.
A mouse and a sparrow. Jaypaw heard the two small bodies drop onto the empty space where the fresh-kill pile used to be.
“Shall we go out again?” Squirrelflight offered.
“Rest first,” Firestar meowed. “Birchfall and Hollypaw are hunting, too.”
 
; His pelt swished as he wove around Sandstorm. Jaypaw sensed that her touch soothed some of the anxiety pounding through his body. The smell of fresh-kill made his belly rumble; he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. But Icekit and Foxkit needed food more than he did.
“Shall I take the mouse to the nursery?” he called to Firestar.
“Yes, please—” Firestar’s answer was cut short by a rustling on the slope outside the thorn barrier. Jaypaw tensed. He smelled WindClan.
Firestar padded to the entrance and sniffed the air.
“There’s only two of them,” Jaypaw called. He did not recognize the scents of the two WindClan cats who were padding toward the entrance of the hollow, but he sensed their anxiety as they padded into the camp.
The older of the two cats spoke first. “Forgive us for trespassing on ThunderClan territory.”
“Weaselfur!” Firestar sounded surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Jaypaw padded closer. The younger cat smelled of herbs.
“I’ve brought Kestrelpaw to speak with Leafpool,” Weaselfur meowed.
Kestrelpaw! Jaypaw remembered Barkface mentioning his apprentice when they had traveled to the Moonpool.
“Hi, there,” he called.
Kestrelpaw was fidgeting nervously, kneading the ground. “Are you Jaypaw?” he asked. “I need to speak to your mentor.”
Leafpool was already out of her den and padding toward Kestrelpaw. “What is it?”
“There’s greencough in WindClan,” Kestrelpaw mewed. “Barkface was hoping you could share your catmint.”
Leafpool sighed. “We have none. The frost killed it. We have sick cats too, and there’s nothing we can do to help them.”
Squirrelflight padded to join her sister. “RiverClan have catmint,” she meowed. “They would share it with us, wouldn’t they?”
“I’ve wondered about that,” Leafpool meowed.
Jaypaw’s tail bristled. Why hadn’t she mentioned it before?
“Let’s go and ask them,” Kestrelpaw suggested.
“Mothwing might need all her supplies for her own Clan,” Leafpool fretted.
“She wouldn’t let our Clanmates die if she knew how sick they were,” Squirrelflight argued.
“She might already know,” Kestrelpaw pointed out. “StarClan might have told her.”
Yeah, right, thought Jaypaw.
Leafpool shuffled her paws. “But what if there’s greencough in RiverClan too? She couldn’t risk giving away her supplies.”
Jaypaw didn’t understand why Leafpool was hesitating. “We’ve got to try!” he mewed. This was their chance to save the Clan.
Squirrelflight’s fur was pricking with frustration too. “The Clans have helped one another before when it’s been life or death.”
“I’ll go and ask RiverClan, if you’re too scared!” Jaypaw put in.
“I’m not scared!” Leafpool growled. “I just don’t want to put Mothwing in a difficult position.”
Jaypaw clawed the ground. “What would she say if she found out cats died and you never asked for help?” He felt Leafpool’s mind recoil with alarm—and something else, the horror of a long-buried memory. “She’d be devastated!” he pressed.
“Very well,” Leafpool agreed. “I’ll go and ask her.”
Jaypaw knew she’d travel faster without him. “I’ll stay here and look after the sick cats,” he offered.
Leafpool leaned down and touched her muzzle to his. “Thanks, Jaypaw.”
“I’ll do my best,” he mewed briskly. Then he realized that he would be responsible for every one of his Clanmates while Leafpool was away. The thought struck him like a kick to the belly.
Leafpool entwined his tail with hers. “Rely on your instincts, Jaypaw. They are sharper than any cat’s.”
He nodded, taking a deep breath. I know all the herbs, he reminded himself. And this is a chance to prove that I can help my Clan.
“Brightheart will help you if necessary,” Leafpool went on. “She’s worked with me before.”
Jaypaw’s tail pricked. Brightheart was the last cat he wanted watching him struggle to help his Clanmates. But he wasn’t going to let Leafpool know that.
“We’d better get going,” Leafpool meowed to the two WindClan cats.
Firestar padded over to block the entrance before Leafpool could head out. “I want Thornclaw and Brambleclaw to go with you,” he meowed.
“But we’re medicine cats,” Leafpool pointed out. “No cat will dare stop us.”
“You’re going to have to skirt the lake around ShadowClan territory,” Firestar pointed out. “I don’t trust ShadowClan right now.”
“Very well,” Leafpool meowed. She waited impatiently while Firestar called Thornclaw from the warriors’ den, and then the patrol raced out of the camp like rabbits.
Sandstorm came up to Jaypaw. “Can I help with anything?”
He didn’t know where to start. The medicine den was full, feverfew was running short, and he was so hungry he could hardly think straight.
“The mouse!” He suddenly remembered. “I was going to take it to the nursery for the kits.”
“I can do that,” Sandstorm meowed. “You go back to the medicine den.”
Her steady mew calmed him. “Thanks,” he murmured.
He returned to the den to find that Poppypaw’s fever had risen even more. Mousefur’s breathing was so shallow he had to press his muzzle to her flank to feel it. Ferncloud was begging for water, and the bedding stank.
StarClan, help me! Jaypaw closed his eyes for a moment. Summoning all his strength, he went to fetch a wad of soaked moss for Ferncloud.
“Sandstorm told me you need some help.” Brightheart’s voice sounded from the den entrance.
“Yes.” Jaypaw’s ears twitched nervously, but for the first time in days he felt no anger flash from the one-eyed warrior. “Can you help me clear out the old bedding?” he asked.
“I can do the bedding by myself,” Brightheart told him. “You see to your patients.” Something small and sweet-smelling thudded at his paws. “Sandstorm said you should eat this.” Brightheart had tossed him a piece of the mouse.
He shook his head.
“You have to keep your strength up,” Brightheart insisted. “While Leafpool’s gone, you are responsible for the whole Clan.”
Which meant that until Leafpool returned with catmint, there was nothing he could do except watch his Clanmates die. Jaypaw felt the same hopelessness as when he flailed his claws at Owlpaw in the battle against ShadowClan, never sure where his enemy would lunge from next.
“Eat the mouse,” Brightheart prompted.
“Okay.” He wasn’t going to act like a mewling kit. Did he want every cat to know he couldn’t cope? They already thought he was useless; they didn’t have to think he was weak and scared too!
Jaypaw gulped down the morsel, and then, while Brightheart started tugging out the foul bedding, he chewed up mouthfuls of feverfew and tried to persuade Poppypaw to swallow some. “Come on,” he urged her. “Just taste a little.”
Poppypaw pushed him away with a burning paw. “I can’t swallow,” she rasped.
“You must try.”
Jaypaw suddenly felt another pelt against his. He smelled Sorreltail, Poppypaw’s mother.
“She’s worse, isn’t she?” the she-cat mewed.
“Leafpool’s gone to WindClan to ask for catmint,” Jaypaw told her.
“But will Poppypaw survive until she returns?” Sorreltail’s mew cracked with grief.
“I’ll make sure she does,” Jaypaw growled. He tried to stop his paws from trembling as he pushed the feverfew under Poppypaw’s nose yet again. He had been a medicine cat apprentice for less than a moon. Could he really keep a promise like that?
“Come on.” Brightheart nudged Sorreltail. “Jaypaw will do what he can. You should go hunting with Brackenfur. The more fresh-kill we have, the stronger the Clan will be.”
As the one-eyed warrior guided her Clanmate out of the
medicine den, Jaypaw rubbed the feverfew pulp onto Poppypaw’s lips, hoping that some of it would find its way into her fever-racked body. For StarClan’s sake, eat this and get better!
Jaypaw woke with a start. He had dozed off without meaning to. The silence of night lay heavily on the forest. An owl hooted far away as Jaypaw struggled to his paws. He felt light-headed with hunger and exhaustion, but he had to check on the sick cats.
Brightheart was sleeping at the entrance to the den. Her steady breathing comforted him as he picked his way around the sick cats. Mousefur was shivering, and he pulled fresh moss over her to keep her warm, though heat pulsed from her body. Ferncloud murmured the names of her kits, and Whitewing fidgeted uncomfortably in her sleep. Jaypaw sat and listened. Something was not right. He ducked down beside Poppypaw. Her breathing had slowed.
Jaypaw’s heart began to race. He slid into the nest beside her and pressed his body against hers. She was unnaturally still. Fear gripped him; he had promised Sorreltail that he wouldn’t let her die. He focused on Poppypaw’s breathing and let his body relax. Then he steadied his breath until it fell into the same slow rhythm as hers. He closed his eyes, and the world opened up before him in shades of black, white, and silver, washed with moonlight. He could see the pale shape of Poppypaw padding through a forest. He recognized the trees and the undergrowth and the feel of the leaf-strewn earth underneath his paws at once. Poppypaw mustn’t come here!
“Poppypaw!” He hurried to catch up to the apprentice, and she turned to gaze at him.
“I’ve never been to this part of the forest before.” She sniffed the air. “It doesn’t smell like home. Do you know where we are?”
“Yes,” Jaypaw whispered.
“It’s strange,” Poppypaw mewed. “Whatever herbs you gave me must have worked, because I don’t feel sick anymore.”
Jaypaw didn’t reply. How was he going to bring Poppypaw back from this place? He padded wordlessly beside her, terrified of losing sight of her.
“The trees are so tall and leafy, and the undergrowth is thicker than anything.” Poppypaw obviously didn’t realize that Jaypaw could see it for himself. “Can you smell all the scents of prey? It’s like greenleaf here!”