Alderpaw paused, uncertain what to do.
“Alderpaw!” Leafpool’s call made him jump. He hurried after her, catching up as she reached Rowanstar and Crowfrost. He tried to ignore the gazes of the other ShadowClan cats, who were still watching from the edge of the clearing. Tawnypelt stood, looking anxious, beside Stonewing. A dark gray warrior with a torn ear was whispering to a lithe white she-cat. Two young toms were crouching beside the fresh-kill pile, a half-eaten thrush lying between them.
“Make it quick.” Leafpool’s mew was brisk as she addressed the ShadowClan leader. Alderpaw’s ears twitched hotly. Were medicine cats allowed to speak to Clan leaders that way?
Rowanstar seemed unruffled. His solemn gaze rested on Leafpool. “I have something important to ask you.”
“Then ask,” Leafpool told him. “I need to check on Grassheart.”
Rowanstar exchanged glances with Crowfrost before speaking. “We were hoping you would agree to stay with us for a while.”
“I’ll stay for as long as Littlecloud and Grassheart need me.”
Rowanstar leaned closer. “We were hoping you’d stay long enough to train our apprentice medicine cat.”
“You have an apprentice?” Leafpool’s ears pricked with surprise. “About time! Where is he? Or have you chosen a she-cat this time?” She scanned the camp eagerly.
“Puddlekit’s a tom, and he hasn’t been apprenticed yet,” Crowfrost explained.
“Puddlekit!” Leafpool stared at the deputy in disbelief. “You want to put a kit in charge of your Clan’s medicine den?”
“Puddlekit is six moons and will be made an apprentice any day now, along with his littermates,” Rowanstar told her sharply.
“Did Littlecloud choose him?” Leafpool asked.
“No.” Rowanstar shifted his paws.
“Then you’ve had a sign from StarClan?” Leafpool pressed. “Or has Puddlekit had a vision?”
Crowfrost’s fur rippled along his spine. “We don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Leafpool’s eyes widened. “Does this kit have any connection with StarClan at all?”
Rowanstar lifted his chin, his gaze hardening. “ShadowClan must have a medicine cat. We have decided Puddlekit will be the one. I am asking if you would be willing to train him.”
Alderpaw stared at Leafpool. He understood her shock. It seemed like madness to choose a random kit to take care of a whole Clan. Would she agree to help?
Leafpool closed her eyes for a moment as though gathering her thoughts. “I suppose a starving cat can’t choose its prey,” she growled. “How long would you need me to stay?”
Crowfrost answered. “We thought a couple of moons would be enough.”
“You think it’s that easy?” Leafpool stared at him. In ThunderClan, medicine cats stayed apprentices for many more moons than warriors. “I’m not training him to stalk birds. There’s a lot to learn. And even then a medicine cat needs experience—more experience than you can get in a couple of moons.”
Rowanstar held her gaze. “As you said, a starving cat can’t choose its prey.”
Leafpool glanced up to the canopy, as though trying to glimpse Silverpelt sparkling above. “StarClan help you.” With a sigh, she faced Rowanstar. “Very well. I will stay and help for a couple of moons. But I can’t promise it will be enough.”
“It will be plenty,” Rowanstar growled softly. “Puddlekit is a ShadowClan cat. He will learn quickly and perform his duties well.”
Leafpool stared at him. Alderpaw could sense the tension between them and wondered how Leafpool would react.
“Alderpaw.” Leafpool looked at him. “While I check on Grassheart, find some moss and soak it in water. Littlecloud will be thirsty.” She glanced at Rowanstar. “Is there an apprentice who can help?”
Rowanstar turned his head, scanning the shadows beneath the bramble wall. “Needlepaw!”
Alderpaw’s heart quickened. Two bright green eyes flashed beneath the trailing branches. Slowly a sleek, silver she-cat with white chest fur slid out. Alderpaw straightened, forcing his ruffled fur to smooth along his spine.
Needlepaw caught his eye and nodded a curt greeting before padding toward her leader. “What do you want?”
“Go with this ThunderClan apprentice and gather wet moss for Littlecloud to drink from,” Rowanstar told her.
Needlepaw glanced toward the medicine den. “Wouldn’t it be easier to carry Littlecloud to a ditch and let him drink there? He weighs hardly more than a mouse.”
Rowanstar showed his teeth, his eyes flashing with anger. “Do as I tell you.”
Tawnypelt hurried toward them. “Are you being insolent again, Needlepaw?” She glared crossly at her apprentice.
Needlepaw’s eyes rounded innocently. “I was just making a suggestion.”
Leafpool shook out her fur and headed across the clearing. “I assume the nursery is still where it’s always been?”
“Yes.” Tawnypelt followed her. “Grassheart is resting. But she’s eating well and hasn’t complained of any pain.”
“Good.”
As the two she-cats walked away, Alderpaw glanced at Needlepaw. “Where’s the best place to collect moss?”
“The whole forest is practically one big moss garden.” Needlepaw sighed and padded toward the camp entrance. “Hi, by the way.”
“H-hi.” Alderpaw followed, his pelt hot. Is she pleased to see me? She was acting so casual it was hard to tell. He searched for something interesting to say, but Needlepaw beat him to it. “Every cat around here is really impressed with me,” she told him. Her voice echoed around the trees as they emerged from the bramble tunnel. “I brought back a special kit for the Clan. Now we’re part of the prophecy too.”
Alderpaw ignored her boasting. “How is Violetkit? Is she okay? Has she settled in?”
“How should I know?” Needlepaw mewed. “She’s in the nursery most of the time with Pinenose and her kits.”
Anxiety prickled in Alderpaw’s belly. “But she comes out to play, right?”
“Of course she comes out to play.” Needlepaw stopped at a large pine and began scraping moss from between the roots. “She’s a kit. What else do kits do?”
“Do you play with her?” Alderpaw thought of the games he played with Twigkit: moss-ball, cat and mouse, hunt the acorn . . .
“She’s a kit.” Needlepaw pulled off a long strip of moss and flung it toward Alderpaw. “I don’t play kit games.”
“But you helped find her,” Alderpaw reminded her. “Doesn’t that make her special to you?”
Needlepaw glanced at him. “Do you play with Twigkit?”
“When I’m not busy with my apprentice duties,” Alderpaw told her.
Needlepaw sat back and looked at the pile of moss she’d collected. “I’m training to be a warrior, not a medicine cat. It takes up all my time. Are you going to help with the moss or what?”
“I think you’ve gathered enough,” Alderpaw told her. “We just need to soak it in water now.”
“There’s a pool over there.” Needlepaw nodded past the camp wall. “Follow me.”
As she marched away, Alderpaw grabbed the moss between his jaws and followed.
When they reached a small pool filled with rainwater, he dunked the moss. The cold made his nose ache. As he lifted it out, water dripped onto his chest.
Needlepaw stared at him, her bold green eyes sparkling with amusement. “You look like an otter.”
Alderpaw’s fur ruffled along his spine. He turned, self-conscious, and headed toward the camp entrance.
As he carried the sodden moss into the medicine den, Dawnpelt stood to greet him. Her jaws were green with tansy pulp; Alderpaw could smell the sharp tang of it even over the musty scent of the dripping moss. Needlepaw padded in and stopped beside the entrance, looking curiously at the sick medicine cat. “He looks so small,” she commented.
“His fur needs washing.” Alderpaw piled the moss beside Littlecloud’s nest and lifted a clump
of it to the sick tom’s mouth.
Littlecloud’s nose twitched, but he didn’t open his eyes. Turning his head, he lapped helplessly at the moss. Alderpaw pressed the soaked leaves closer so that the moisture ran into his mouth.
Littlecloud swallowed with a gasp.
Alderpaw turned to Dawnpelt. “You need to make sure he has water all the time.”
Dawnpelt nodded, looking guilty. “Okay.”
As she spoke, Leafpool padded into the den. “Grassheart seems well. She’s close to kitting.” She stopped beside Alderpaw and pressed her ear to Littlecloud’s chest. “The tansy has eased his breathing,” she commented. “I’ll mix some herbs that will help his fever.”
“Can I help?” Alderpaw reached for the herb pile.
“You can fetch clean bedding with Needlepaw,” Leafpool told him.
Alderpaw felt a stab of disappointment. He wanted to show Needlepaw how much he’d learned about being a medicine cat. But he didn’t argue. He should be focusing on helping Littlecloud, not showing off to Needlepaw. Nodding, he headed for the entrance. “Do you know where there’s any dry bracken?” he asked as he brushed past her.
She followed him out of the den, ignoring his question. “Don’t you get bored of being bossed around?”
“I want to help my Clanmates.”
“Littlecloud isn’t your Clanmate; he’s mine.”
Alderpaw stopped and faced her. “Don’t you want to help him?”
Needlepaw shrugged. “I guess, but I thought that was why Leafpool came here.”
“She can’t do everything by herself,” Alderpaw meowed, feeling a prickle of irritation.
Needlepaw gazed at him for a moment, then flicked her tail. “Do you want to see Violetkit?”
Alderpaw’s heart lifted. “Yes, please!”
“She’s in the nursery.” Needlepaw’s mew was suddenly bright. “Come on—I’ll take you there.”
“Wait!” Alderpaw suddenly remembered Twigkit’s feather. He turned back toward the medicine den and darted inside, snatching it from the ground and speeding out again before Leafpool could speak. He raced back to Needlepaw, the feather fluttering against his nose.
Needlepaw purred and headed across the clearing. “This way.” As she reached a bulge in the bramble wall, she ducked.
Alderpaw watched Needlepaw squeeze through a narrow entrance among the prickles. He climbed after her, ignoring the thorns scraping his pelt.
Inside, he was surprised to see the entrance open into a warm, spacious den. A black she-cat lay in one nest, a pale brown tabby in another. The pale tabby was round with unborn kits. Alderpaw dropped his feather and stared at her. “Grassheart?” He’d never seen such a pregnant cat. He was amazed at her size and wondered how big her litter would be.
Grassheart lifted her head wearily. “Who are you?”
The black she-cat hissed, “Yes! Who are you?”
“It’s okay,” Needlepaw soothed. “He’s a medicine cat. He came with Leafpool.”
Alderpaw felt hot with embarrassment. “I’m just an apprentice,” he corrected. “I was hoping to see Violetkit.” He gazed hopefully at the black queen, guessing that she must be the cat who was nursing Violetkit.
“Oh, her.” Pinenose sighed and relaxed back into her nest. “She’s a funny little thing. I keep trying to persuade her to go out and play with my kits, but she insists on staying indoors and amusing herself.”
Alderpaw followed Pinenose’s exasperated gaze and saw a small black-and-white kit sitting on her haunches at the edge of the den, pawing at a tendril sticking out from the wall.
“Violetkit?” he called softly. Would she remember him? She’d been so young when Rowanstar had taken her away.
She turned her head and blinked at him, her eyes showing no emotion.
Alderpaw’s heart tightened. She looked even lonelier than Twigkit, playing by herself. “It’s me, Alderpaw. I’ve brought you a present from your sister.”
“My sister?” Violetkit blinked at him, confused. “You mean Lionkit?”
“Lionkit’s not your sister,” Pinenose corrected.
“It’s from Twigkit.” Alderpaw pushed the feather slowly toward her.
Violetkit stared at it, her fluffy pelt spiking. “It’s a feather,” she mewed slowly.
“Yes.” Alderpaw nudged it closer. “A red one, like the one you used to play with when you shared a nest with her.”
Violetkit’s eyes suddenly lit up. “I remember!” She pricked her ears and bounded forward. “Is it the same one?”
Alderpaw shook his head, then softened the story a bit for the young kit. “The old one got dirty, so Twigkit found you a new one.”
“Especially for me?” The kit’s mew cracked before she broke into a loud purr. She pounced on the feather, trapping the quill between her paws and washing the fluffy tendrils until they were limp and soggy. “I love it!” Violetkit lifted her face and stared at Alderpaw. “Tell Twigkit I love it!” She sat up suddenly. “How is Twigkit? What’s she like? Has she got a feather too? Is her tail fluffy yet? She always wanted the fluffiest tail. Has she tasted vole yet? I want to taste vole but Pinenose says I’m not ready.”
Her words tumbled out excitedly, leaving Alderpaw breathless. Which question should he answer first?
Suddenly he thought of Sparkpaw. She’d been a lively kit too. His heart ached to imagine how he could have grown up without her endless questions and ideas for new games.
“Twigkit’s tail is getting fluffier every day, and she tasted her first vole two sunrises ago. She helps me out in the medicine den a lot and—”
“Is she going to be a medicine cat?” Violetkit asked excitedly.
Alderpaw purred. “I don’t know.”
“Violetkit,” Pinenose called to her. “It’s time for your nap.”
“But I’m not tired,” Violetkit glared at the black she-cat.
“Yes, but Grassheart is,” Pinenose answered. “And she doesn’t want to listen to your chatter.”
Alderpaw swallowed back frustration. Violetkit was so young. Surely the queens could be kinder to her? “Perhaps she could play with her feather.”
Pinenose crossed her paws irritably. “It’s time for her nap,” she insisted.
Alderpaw could see that it was pointless arguing with the queen. He looked sadly at Violetkit. “You’d better rest,” he murmured. He glanced at Pinenose. The ShadowClan queen was scowling at him. “Besides, I have to go home.”
“Already?” Disappointment sparked in Violetkit’s wide amber eyes.
“My Clanmates will be expecting me.”
Violetkit stared at him hopefully. “Will you come and visit again soon?”
Pity welled in Alderpaw’s throat. She should be in ThunderClan, playing with her sister. Not here, in this unfriendly den. He longed to help her. “I’ll try.”
Violetkit gazed at him bleakly, as though she didn’t believe he meant it. “I’d better go for my nap.” Tail drooping, she turned and climbed into the nest to settle in beside Pinenose.
Alderpaw lifted the feather between his teeth and set it down beside her. “Sleep well, Violetkit. I’ll tell Twigkit all about you.”
“Tell her I’m going to be the best warrior ever!”
“I will.” Regret filled Alderpaw’s belly. Trying not to show it, he headed for the entrance. “We’d better go find some bedding for Littlecloud,” he told Needlepaw.
“I guess.” Needlepaw squeezed out after him. “I never realized Violetkit was so talkative.”
“Perhaps you should try spending more time with her.” After all, you did find and name her. Alderpaw padded across the camp.
“Maybe.” Needlepaw sounded thoughtful. “It could be cool to have a kit following me around.”
Alderpaw hardly heard her. He was lost in his own thoughts. Violetkit seemed so lonely. If only there were something he could do to help her. He pricked his ears as a thought struck him. At the camp entrance, he halted and stared at Needlepaw. “
I have an idea.”
Needlepaw met his gaze eagerly. “What?”
Alderpaw lowered his voice. “Why don’t we let the kits meet?”
“You mean Violetkit and Twigkit?” Needlepaw look puzzled. “But how?”
“We can decide on a meeting place, then sneak them out one night and take them there.”
“You mean in secret?” Needlepaw’s eyes shone. “While everyone’s sleeping?”
Alderpaw nodded, ignoring the guilt worming through his belly. Surely Violetkit’s happiness was more important than Clan rules? Besides, Alderpaw couldn’t help feeling that the Clans should never have separated the kits. He pushed away the thought that this would also be a chance to see Needlepaw again. This wasn’t for him. It was for the kits.
Needlepaw was pacing. “There’s a great spot near the border. I can show you while we’re collecting bracken. It’ll be perfect. No one would ever know but us.” She flicked an ear toward her unseeing Clanmates, pleasure warming her gaze. Then she turned back to Alderpaw. “Don’t you just love secrets?”
CHAPTER 2
Violetkit shifted and snuggled closer to Pinenose, but she couldn’t get comfortable. Ratscar’s words ran around in her head.
But she’s not really one of us, is she?
It was late and the Clan was sleeping now, except for the cats sitting vigil beside Littlecloud’s body. He had died as the sun had set, two days after Leafpool had arrived. The ThunderClan medicine cat had been at his side, and the Clan had crouched at the edges of the clearing, avoiding one another’s eyes as they listened to the weakening moans of their medicine cat.
I should be sad that Littlecloud is dead. She knew that she was supposed to be sad, but she’d hardly met Littlecloud. He’d checked her over when she’d first arrived in the Clan, but he’d already been sickly-looking then, and she had shuddered at his sour breath.
Besides, Ratscar’s words were still gnawing at Violetkit too sharply to allow her to concentrate on Littlecloud. She’s not really one of us, is she? She’d heard the skinny, dark brown elder’s meow as she passed the elders’ den that morning. He was talking about me.