“We will!” Hawkfrost leapt to his paws. “We’ll do whatever you tell us.”
His enthusiasm chilled Leafpool. What could this bloodthirsty cat command his sons to do? She shrank back, shivering, and although she didn’t think she had made a sound, the huge tabby’s head swung around and he peered into the shadows where she was hiding.
Terrified, Leafpool turned and fled, blundering among roots and trailing stems of bramble, bracing herself to hear sounds of pursuit and to feel a massive paw grabbing her by the throat. There were no paths out of the dark forest. Trees stretched endlessly on every side, and there was no birdsong or rustle of prey, no sign that any living creature had ever trodden among these dark thickets.
Where am I? There was no reply to Leafpool’s silent wail. What had brought her to this place where StarClan had never set paw, where the spirit of a murderous cat could call his sons to him in dreams?
In her panic-stricken flight Leafpool didn’t look where she was going. Suddenly the ground gave way under her paws. She let out a shocked yowl as she plunged into darkness; her body hit the ground with a thump that drove the breath out of her.
Her eyes flew open and she let out a gasp of terror. A tabby head was a mouse-length away from hers, amber eyes staring down at her.
“Are you OK?” Brambleclaw meowed.
Leafpool scrambled into a sitting position, scattering scraps of moss. She was in her nest outside Cinderpelt’s den. The creamy light of dawn was seeping into the sky above the trees.
“Leafpool?” Brambleclaw sounded concerned. His pelt was ruffled, with bits of bracken sticking to it, as if he had only recently roused from his own nest in the warriors’ den. “Is something the matter? I heard you cry out.”
“What? No—no, I’m fine.” Leafpool stared uncertainly up at Brambleclaw. Had he come to tell her that he’d seen her in his dream?
“Firestar is choosing cats to go to the Gathering tonight,” he meowed, yawning. “Are you fit to come? I know you had a long journey yesterday.”
Relief swept through Leafpool from ears to tail-tip. If Brambleclaw had really had the same dream, he hadn’t noticed her in the shadows. But her relief faded as she wondered if he had chosen to visit his father in the dark forest. What was Tigerstar going to make him do to become Clan leader?
She got up, still feeling shaky but determined to hide it. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “Tell Firestar I’d like to come.”
Brambleclaw dipped his head and backed away. Leafpool took a few deep breaths before giving her pelt a quick grooming. She had completely forgotten that this was the night of the full moon. Even though her pelt prickled with fear, she wanted to watch Hawkfrost and Brambleclaw together. Would they give away what was happening as they slept? How often had Tigerstar called them to him in dreams before now?
Leafpool knew there was no cat she could ask for advice. Firestar and Cinderpelt both took her dreams from StarClan very seriously, but this dream was different. She didn’t dare tell them about it; she was terrified of what the dream might mean, for she had never heard of any other medicine cat walking where she had walked. In that forest, she had felt further than ever from her warrior ancestors. If she lost touch with them altogether, would she be condemned to wander forever in that dark place, and never find her way back to the light?
Even though it was very early, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now. Cinderpelt was still in her den, so Leafpool decided to go out and look for herbs. They could do with more borage leaves, especially if Mousefur was feverish.
She knew a patch of borage grew close to the abandoned Twoleg nest. Leafpool slipped out of the camp and padded along the disused path. The grey, cloudy weather had given way to sunlight that shone warmly on her fur. Green shoots were thrusting up through the ground. Buds were swelling on the trees and birds sang above Leafpool’s head, promising plentiful fresh-kill as newleaf approached. The forest couldn’t have been more different from the dark place of her dream, yet Leafpool could not shake off the terror, and found herself glancing over her shoulder at every pawstep.
Her pelt crawled when she came in sight of the tumbledown nest, with shadowy holes in its sides like eyes staring at her. Then she braced herself and padded more boldly through the trees, sniffing for the borage she had come to collect. What was there to be frightened of here, for a cat who had walked in Tigerstar’s forest?
She was on her way back, carrying a satisfying clump of fragrant borage leaves, when she spotted a flash of pale fur behind a clump of bracken. Curious, she circled the bracken and found herself on the edge of the mossy clearing where the cats went for battle training. Cloudtail was there with Daisy, standing over her with his ears pricked.
“No,” he meowed. “You’ve got to hit me. Hard.”
Daisy blinked at him with limpid blue eyes. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
Cloudtail’s tail curled up. “Don’t worry, you won’t. Come on, try again.”
The horse place cat gave him a doubtful look, then ran at him, flashing out a paw as she went past. Cloudtail dodged aside and hooked out Daisy’s paws from under her so that she sprawled on the grass in a tangle of legs and fluffy tail.
“That’s not fair!” she wailed. “You never said you were going to do that.”
“Oh, right.” Cloudtail couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. “Do you think in the thick of a battle an enemy warrior will come up and say, ‘Be careful, I’m going to push you over now?’”
Daisy lashed her tail. “It’s not like I’ll ever need to fight.”
“You might.” Cloudtail’s gaze was serious now. “If another Clan attacked us—or other creatures like foxes or dogs—you need to know how to defend yourself. If you don’t, you could get really hurt.”
“Oh, all right.” Daisy gave her creamy chest fur a couple of licks. “Show me again what I’ve got to do.”
Leafpool thought Cloudtail had a tough task ahead of him if he was going to turn this kittypet into a competent warrior. Daisy didn’t seem to have any fighting instinct at all. But the white warrior seemed willing to teach her. Leafpool remembered how he had shown infinite patience with Brightheart after the she-cat had been attacked by the dogs, and needed to learn a whole new way of fighting and hunting. Perhaps he would be able to teach Daisy to be a warrior too.
Thinking about Brightheart made Leafpool want to get back to camp. She still didn’t like the way the ginger and white she-cat was taking over all her duties.
She waved her tail in greeting as she padded past Cloudtail and Daisy; as she left the clearing she heard Cloudtail meowing, “This time try to pretend I’m a badger and I’m going to eat your kits.”
“But my kits really like you,” Daisy protested.
More warriors were up and about by the time Leafpool reached the stone hollow. She nodded to Sandstorm, who was leading Spiderleg and Thornclaw out on a hunting patrol, then she went to find Cinderpelt in her den. But it was Brightheart, not Cinderpelt, who came out to meet her.
“Borage!” the ginger and white she-cat exclaimed. “Thanks, Leafpool. We have hardly any left, and Mousefur’s fever isn’t down yet.” As soon as Leafpool put down the borage at the mouth of the den, she grabbed up a couple of the stalks and hurried towards the clump of fern and bramble where the elders slept beneath the twisted branches of a hazel bush.
Leafpool let out a hiss of annoyance and slashed at the nearest bramble with her paw. Brightheart was behaving as if she were the medicine cat, and Leafpool just her helper.
“What’s the matter?” Cinderpelt emerged from the mouth of her den, gave the remaining borage an appreciative sniff, then limped across to join Leafpool.
Leafpool shrugged. “Just too many medicine cats around here,” she muttered.
Cinderpelt’s blue gaze rested on her. Leafpool looked up and saw wisdom and compassion there, and something deeper she could not name. “Be patient with Brightheart,” the medicine cat mewed. “Everything has change
d for her.” More quietly she added, “The greatest gift we could ask for is the courage to accept what StarClan sends us, however hard it seems.”
Leafpool was surprised to see a flash of sadness in her mentor’s face. She wanted to ask Cinderpelt what she was talking about, but she was afraid of the answer. Was she just talking about Brightheart, and the courage she had shown in accepting her disfigured face? Or was she trying to tell Leafpool that she wasn’t needed any more, now that Brightheart had begun to take on the role of medicine cat?
Before she could summon the courage to say anything, Cinderpelt disappeared back inside her den. Leafpool was about to follow her when she saw Cloudtail push his way through the thorn tunnel with Daisy just behind him. Daisy’s kits, who were tumbling together at the entrance to the nursery, sprang up and scampered across the clearing to fling themselves on Cloudtail. The white warrior toppled onto his side and wrestled with the kits in a play fight, his claws carefully sheathed.
“Hey, Berrykit, get off!” he panted, giving the creamy-white kit a gentle cuff around the ear. “Mousekit, that tickles. And who’s got their teeth in my tail?” He rolled over, taking the smallest kit with him. “Hazelkit, show a bit of respect for a warrior!”
“He’s really good with them.” Brightheart had returned and stood gazing at her mate with a wistful look. “He’ll be a fantastic mentor,” she went on. “He was so patient with me when I was injured. He worked out all kinds of fighting moves for me so I could be a warrior again.”
Leafpool felt an unexpected stab of sympathy for her. Maybe Cinderpelt was right, and Brightheart had more changes to get used to than any of them. It couldn’t be easy for her to watch Cloudtail spending so much time with Daisy and her kits. But her sympathy dissolved when Mousefur padded up and spoke to Brightheart.
“I forgot to ask you,” the brown-furred elder meowed. “Can I have some poppy seed? This fever has kept me awake for two nights now.”
“I’m not sure,” Brightheart replied. “I don’t think you should have poppy seed on top of all that borage. Let’s ask Cinderpelt if she has anything better.”
She led the elder behind the brambles that screened Cinderpelt’s den, leaving Leafpool to stare after them in frustrated disbelief. Who’s the medicine cat around here? If Mousefur or Brightheart had bothered to ask her, she would have suggested chewing a dandelion leaf instead of poppy seeds. But they’d acted as if Leafpool wasn’t even there.
Maybe Cinderpelt would make Brightheart a medicine cat apprentice. But I’m still her apprentice, Leafpool thought miserably. Even though she had her proper name now, she would continue to learn from Cinderpelt for many more seasons. She had never heard of a medicine cat having two apprentices at the same time. Besides, she added to herself, Brightheart has a mate, and a kit. She can’t be a medicine cat. Right?
She felt as if a huge stone hung in her belly, weighing her down. Maybe this is a sign from StarClan after all, she thought. A sign that I’m not needed in ThunderClan any more.
CHAPTER 15
A few wisps of cloud drifted across the sky, but the full moon floated clear of them as the ThunderClan cats crossed the tree bridge to the island. Leaping down onto the pebbly shore, Leafpool scanned the cats who were already there and spotted Ashfoot and Barkface making their way towards the line of bushes that guarded the centre of the island.
WindClan are here, so where’s Crowfeather? She told herself to stop looking for him, but when she couldn’t spot him her belly clenched with disappointment. She paused in the shadow of the tree roots, tasting the air for his scent, but it was impossible to pick one out among so many mingled scents.
Tail drooping, she trudged up the slope towards the barrier of bushes. She saw Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost padding up to touch noses; amber eyes gazed into ice blue. Some unspoken message passed between them, then both cats turned and disappeared beneath the thick branches.
Leafpool felt chilled to the depths of her fur. For a moment the island vanished, and she was back in that dark forest where Tigerstar was advising his sons how to seize power. What were Hawkfrost and Brambleclaw planning?
She heard the bushes rustle as the two tabby toms pushed their way into the clearing, and she waited for the leaves to stop quivering before she followed them. Her paws tingled with the sense of danger. Was Brambleclaw plotting to take over ThunderClan, just as his bloodthirsty father had plotted so many seasons ago?
She emerged from the bushes, blinking in the shining wash of moonlight that outlined every leaf and stem. Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost were sitting side by side in front of her, not far from the roots of the Great Oak. Leafpool was just in time to see Squirrelflight glare at them before she settled down beside Ashfur. Tawnypelt and Russetfur joined them and the four warriors greeted one another in a friendly way, as if they were remembering how they had recently fought side by side against the kittypets.
Mothwing was comfortably crouched near the edge of the clearing with her paws tucked under her, beside Cinderpelt and the other medicine cats. Leafpool padded over to her.
“Is everything OK? Have you had any more trouble with that Twoleg stuff?”
Mothwing shook her head. “Everything’s fine, thanks. Dawnflower and her kits have gone back to the nursery, with Mosspelt to keep an eye on them. And Beechpaw is training with Blackclaw again.”
“That’s great news,” Leafpool purred, at the same moment as Littlecloud asked, “What Twoleg stuff?”
Mothwing began to tell him about the leaking green and silver liquid, while Leafpool glanced around the clearing. She flinched as she made out the lean grey-black shape of Crowfeather, sitting in a group of other WindClan cats. She had been so sure he wasn’t there! She stared at him for a few heartbeats, only tearing her gaze away when his ears twitched as if he knew he was being watched.
A yowl sounded from the branches of the Great Oak. She looked up to see Blackstar standing on a branch that jutted out over the clearing. Firestar was sitting on a branch just above him, with Leopardstar beside him. Onestar was a couple of tail-lengths away, crouched in the fork between a thick bough and the tree trunk. Ashfoot and Mistyfoot were already sitting on the roots; Russetfur bounded up to join them as Blackstar stepped forward.
“Cats of all Clans,” he began, “StarClan have brought us here again to gather in the light of the full moon. Firestar, will you begin?”
The ThunderClan leader stood up and dipped his head to Blackstar. “ThunderClan have a new apprentice,” he reported. “Ashfur is now mentor to Birchpaw.”
Not far away, Leafpool saw Ashfur give his chest fur a couple of self-conscious licks, while Squirrelflight, beside him, gazed around proudly. Birchpaw himself hadn’t come to this Gathering.
“Daisy, one of the cats from the horse place, has brought her kits to ThunderClan,” Firestar went on as soon as the meows of congratulation had died away. “I have given them permission to stay as long as they like.”
A murmur of surprise rose up in the clearing, along with one or two yowls of protest. Rowanclaw of ShadowClan sprang to his paws. “Is that wise?” he demanded. “What good will kittypets be?”
Leafpool saw her father’s neck fur bristle, then relax again as if he were trying hard to keep his temper. “Daisy isn’t exactly a kittypet,” he replied evenly. “She lived with the horses, not in the Twoleg nest. And she did a brave thing in bringing her kits to us so the Twolegs couldn’t take them away.”
Rowanclaw flicked his tail. “They’ll never be warriors.”
“You don’t know that,” Firestar meowed, with a glance at Cloudtail, who was sitting near the roots of the Great Oak. “A good warrior doesn’t have to be forestborn, just as being forestborn doesn’t guarantee being a good warrior. Daisy is settling in well, and her three kits will be apprenticed as soon as they’re old enough. They’ll soon learn the warrior code.”
“Maybe,” grunted Rowanclaw, sitting down again. Leafpool was close enough to hear him mutter to Oakfur, “Why do we expect him to u
nderstand the importance of being Clanborn? Firestar would fill the forest with kittypets if he could.”
Oakfur twitched his ears. “You’ve got to admire him,” he mewed. “You think Blackstar would turn down the chance to have three extra warriors for the Clan?”
Rowanclaw just snorted.
While Leafpool was listening to the ShadowClan warriors she had missed the end of her father’s report. When she started paying attention again, Leopardstar was on her paws.
“Twolegs left poison in our territory,” she meowed. “Ivytail and one of our kits died, but all our other cats are recovering, thanks to Mothwing—and Leafpool, who came to help us from ThunderClan.”
Her gaze swept the clearing and fixed on Leafpool; the RiverClan leader dipped her head in a gesture of thanks before she sat down again. Embarrassed to be praised in front of every cat, Leafpool studied her paws.
“ShadowClan has reason to thank ThunderClan too,” Blackstar began, going on to recount what had happened. Leafpool knew how hard it must be for him to admit that his Clan hadn’t been able to deal with the trouble without ThunderClan’s help, but at least he didn’t try to hide the debt he owed. “Since then the kittypets have stayed inside the Twoleg garden,” he finished.
Onestar jumped to his paws. “What sort of a Clan leader are you?” he growled. “Aren’t you ashamed that you needed help from another Clan? You too,” he added, rounding on Leopardstar. “RiverClan has its own medicine cat. Why do you have to go crawling to ThunderClan?” He ignored the muttering that broke out below him as he glared at Firestar. “It’s time ThunderClan stopped paying so much attention to what’s happening in the other Clans. Your warriors ignore our boundaries and think they can tell every cat what to do. We all made the journey here together, and ThunderClan is no stronger than any other.”
Before Firestar could reply, Cloudtail leapt up. His white pelt was bristling, his tail fluffed out to twice its size. “You were glad enough for ThunderClan’s help when WindClan were starving,” he snarled.