by Erin Hunter
Which meant that these weren’t the feelings belonging to another cat. These were truly inside her belly, kicking and squirming and growing.... A cold sensation of dread crept through Yellowfang’s fur.
I’m a medicine cat now! Great StarClan, there’s no way I can have kits!
CHAPTER 24
Yellowfang hauled herself out of her nest a few days after the Gathering. Every muscle in her body protested; she felt as exhausted as if she had run all the way around the border, three times.
“Why are you always so tired these days?” Sagewhisker asked her as Yellowfang forced herself to draw her paws over her ears in a sketchy grooming. “And you’re putting on weight, too. Maybe if you didn’t eat so much, you would be able to do more.”
“Maybe,” Yellowfang muttered. If I weren’t a medicine cat, you would know what the problem is. But you’d never even begin to guess that I’m expecting kits. What am I going to do?
Slipping out of the den, she stood at the edge of the clearing and watched her Clanmates going about their duties. The apprentices were hauling a load of bedding out of the elders’ den. As Yellowfang watched, Flintpaw rolled up a ball of moss and hurled it at Nightpaw’s head.
Nightpaw batted it away. “Stop being such a mouse-brain, Flintpaw,” he meowed. “We’ll never get finished that way.”
Flintpaw let out a yowl and hurled himself at Nightpaw. “I’m a WindClan warrior!” he screeched. The two apprentices wrestled together in the midst of the discarded bedding; Blackpaw, Clawpaw, and Fernpaw joined in with joyous mews, scattering moss everywhere.
Yellowfang wondered if she needed to intervene, but she realized that Nightpaw, who was the smallest of the apprentices, was giving as good as he got, and the squabbling was basically good-natured. A moment later Hollyflower, who was Blackpaw’s, Flintpaw’s, and Fernpaw’s mother, strode across the clearing, grabbed Flintpaw by the scruff, and heaved him out of the fight. The other apprentices sat up with moss all over their pelts and identical disappointed expressions.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Hollyflower demanded. “Clear this mess up right now, and get it all out of camp. If you don’t finish the elders’ bedding, there’ll be no battle training later. I’ll speak to your mentors myself.”
The threat was enough to send the apprentices scurrying to gather up the scattered moss and begin hauling it toward the tunnel. Hollyflower watched until she was sure they were all working, then turned toward the fresh-kill pile.
Lizardstripe was just finishing off a blackbird; her ears twitched as the apprentices bundled past her. “You must be glad your kits are out of your paws and you can return to warrior duties,” she remarked to Hollyflower.
Hollyflower sighed, gazing after the apprentices, who were heading into the tunnel with their burden of moss. “But I miss them so much! They don’t seem to need me at all now.”
Lizardstripe grimaced as if she had accidentally taken a mouthful of crow-food. “Didn’t you feel trapped while you were in the nursery? Missing patrols, and the chance to hunt for your Clan?”
Yellowfang saw Hollyflower’s puzzled expression. “Why would I feel trapped? Having kits to raise as warriors is the duty of every queen.”
“Don’t you think that’s unfair?” Lizardstripe protested. “Toms can hunt and fight all their lives, and still have kits for the Clan.”
Hollyflower reached out with her tail to give Lizardstripe a friendly flick on the shoulder. “I think that’s tough on the toms! Wait until you’re expecting kits, Lizardstripe, then you’ll feel differently.”
“Actually, I don’t.” Lizardstripe sniffed.
Hollyflower let out an excited squeal. “Oh, Lizardstripe, you’re expecting kits! That’s fabulous! Are they Mudclaw’s?”
Lizardstripe nodded; Yellowfang didn’t think she’d ever seen a prospective mother looking so unenthusiastic.
“You’re probably just nervous,” Hollyflower reassured her. “Having kits will change your life!”
“But I don’t want my life to change,” Lizardstripe meowed with a lash of her tail. “I like my life the way it is now. All I ever wanted was to be a warrior, protecting my Clan.”
“Well, you’ll be a warrior again, once your kits become apprentices,” Hollyflower pointed out.
Her reasonable tones seemed to annoy Lizardstripe even more. “Six moons in the nursery? I’ll go mad!” she exclaimed.
“You’ll be fine, and so will your kits,” Hollyflower promised, seeming unable to believe that Lizardstripe really meant what she said. “We have two medicine cats now, don’t forget!”
With an angry shrug of her shoulders Lizardstripe got up and stalked across the camp toward the warriors’ den. Staring at her, Yellowfang realized that her belly did look swollen, a little more than her own.
Two litters, neither of them wanted.
The thought made her wince. Oh, kits, I do want you, she told the tiny lives growing in her belly. But things are going to be complicated.
Yellowfang wished that she could talk to Lizardstripe, to confide in her about her worries, and share the experience of having kits for the first time. But Yellowfang’s secret was one she would have to bear alone. Besides, she and Lizardstripe had never been friends.
And I certainly can’t tell Raggedpelt. He’s made it clear that my decision to become a full medicine cat means I can have nothing to do with him.
At that moment she spotted the tabby tom, hurrying from the warriors’ den to Cedarstar’s. She wasn’t sure if he had seen her; he certainly didn’t acknowledge her.
“Yellowfang, why are you standing there as if you’re half-asleep?”
Yellowfang jumped as Sagewhisker bustled out of the den behind her. “We have to check Littlebird’s cough,” the medicine cat went on, “and bring some ointment of yarrow to Stonetooth for his cracked pads. And you promised to take Cloudpelt into the forest again. It’s too soon for him to be out unless there’s an experienced cat to keep an eye on him.”
“Sorry, Sagewhisker,” Yellowfang mewed. “I’ll see to the elders, and then find Cloudpelt.” She set off for the elders’ den, feeling utterly weary, her paws dragging as if they were made of stone.
Sagewhisker padded after her. “Don’t forget the ointment of yarrow,” she prompted. Her eyes narrowed and she studied Yellowfang more closely. “Are you all right?” she asked. “You’ve been very tired recently. Medicine cats do get ill themselves, you know.”
Panic stabbed into Yellowfang at the thought of Sagewhisker finding out the truth. What would she do? Strip me of being a medicine cat? Exile me from the Clan? This is my home, and my life!
“No, I’m fine,” Yellowfang replied, trying to put a spring in her step as she headed for the elders’ den. Even if they’re grumpy and difficult with leaf-bare setting in, it’s my duty to care for them, and I’ll do that—for as long as I’m allowed.
Yellowfang found herself standing in a dark, empty space. A few traces of starlight shone in the blackness above her head, too faint to be stars. She understood that she was dreaming, but she didn’t know what the dream might mean.
“Is this StarClan?” she called. “Is there anyone there?”
A moment later a small dark-pelted cat padded out of the shadows. He gave Yellowfang a long look, and solemnly shook his head. “There is a cat coming,” he meowed, “a cat who should never be born, whose life will bring fire and blood to the forest, yet StarClan is powerless to stop him!”
Yellowfang stared at him in horror. “Is there nothing we can do?”
The dark cat dipped his head. “Only one thing can stop the tide of hatred this birth-cursed cat will bring: the courage of a mother to know her destiny.”
“Are you talking about one of my kits?” Yellowfang gasped. “What do you mean? Is this a prophecy?”
“It is a warning,” the dark cat whispered. He drew back into the shadows.
Yellowfang sprang after him and woke up thrashing in her nest, with the walls of the den
faintly visible as the sky paled toward dawn. Horror chilled her bones. She instinctively curled her paws around her swollen belly, desperate to protect the life within.
There’s no way my kits will bring bloodshed to ShadowClan! It’s not their fault that they’re going to be born. For a moment, she considered describing the dream to Sagewhisker. But Silverflame told me to trust my own instincts. And my secret would be in danger if I told her too much.
Yellowfang raised her eyes to the few warriors of StarClan who still shone in the dawn sky. “StarClan, I speak these words before you,” she whispered. “I vow to my kits that I will do everything I can to protect them. I’m sorry that I won’t be the mother they might have hoped for, the mother they deserve, but I will always love them.”
The last leaves fell from the trees. The weather was not as harsh as the previous leaf-bare, but the days were cold and endlessly wet, and none of the cats ever felt warm or dry. Life in the Clan seemed to slow down, with warriors only emerging to hunt or patrol, though no cat expected enemies to attack in such foul weather.
One morning Yellowfang lay at the mouth of her den, watching Raggedpelt sorting reluctant warriors into patrols under the perpetual drizzling rain. Cloudpelt, fully recovered now, was among them, the only cat who seemed to have any energy as he leaped and splashed through the puddles in the clearing.
“You did well to heal the young warrior.” Sagewhisker came to join Yellowfang at the mouth of the den.
“He was strong enough to heal himself,” Yellowfang responded, feeling uncomfortable and fat under her thick pelt.
For a moment the medicine cat was silent. Then she gave Yellowfang a nudge. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I haven’t been out of the camp for days.”
Unwilling, but not daring to show it, Yellowfang heaved herself to her paws and padded beside Sagewhisker out of the camp, following the departing patrols. She noticed how much the old medicine cat was showing her age, gray around the muzzle and stiff in her hind legs when the weather was damp. A pang of concern shook Yellowfang. Sagewhisker had been ShadowClan’s medicine cat for as long as she could remember, a source of skill and comfort for her Clan, and it was hard to think of her getting old.
I must make sure she eats some herbs to help her pains. She needs me to take care of her, even if she doesn’t want it.
Yellowfang and Sagewhisker ducked through the dripping brambles and headed out into the marshes.
“I like the open spaces when it rains,” Sagewhisker meowed. “I can’t stand it when rain splashes on my neck from the trees.” Pausing at the edge of the marshland, she took in a deep breath. “It’s bleak out here, but I love this part of the territory,” she told Yellowfang. “I’m a ShadowClan cat to my bones, and I’m glad StarClan made sure I was born here.”
Yellowfang murmured agreement, but her attention was mostly fixed on the wriggling in her belly. Suddenly one of her kits kicked her so hard that she let out an involuntary gasp.
Sagewhisker turned to her. “Come and sit here, on this clump of grass.” As Yellowfang obeyed, she gave her a long look. “How long to go?” she asked.
Yellowfang stared at her in dismay. “You know?” she whispered.
“I’m a medicine cat,” Sagewhisker replied. “I’ve delivered more kits for ShadowClan than you’ve eaten mice. Of course I know.”
“Are you angry?”
“A little,” Sagewhisker admitted. “You made vows, and you’ve broken them.”
“No!” Yellowfang protested. “Raggedpelt and I haven’t been together since I was made a full medicine cat at the Moonstone.”
Sagewhisker flicked her tail. “You’re splitting whiskers, Yellowfang. You know that you shouldn’t have been with Raggedpelt when you were a medicine cat apprentice. But that’s not the most important thing,” she went on. “ShadowClan needs you. I will walk with StarClan soon, and you have to take my place. You have a rare gift, and you’ve thrown it away.”
“No, I haven’t!” Yellowfang insisted. “I’ll deal with this, I promise. I won’t stop being a medicine cat. I just need to figure out what to do …” Her voice trailed off.
Sagewhisker’s gaze was stern. “It’s time you made a decision once and for all,” she mewed. “If you’re to walk the path of a medicine cat, there must be no more turning aside. The Clan must come first.”
Yellowfang nodded miserably. “I know. It will, from now on.”
Sagewhisker reached out with her tail and stroked Yellowfang’s shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. “You poor thing,” she whispered, startling Yellowfang. “May StarClan light your path.” Her tone became brisk again as she continued. “Does Raggedpelt know?”
Yellowfang shook her head.
“You should tell him,” Sagewhisker meowed. “If the kits … are going to live, then he deserves to know.”
“Of course they’re going to live!” Yellowfang cried. Does she think I would kill my own kits?
“Then they will need their father more than ever,” Sagewhisker told her. “They can’t lose both their parents.”
Yellowfang nodded. “I know, you’re right. But it will be hard to tell him.” How will I ever find the words? And what will he do when he knows the truth?
Later that day, Yellowfang was back in the camp, busy covering the herb stores with more fern to keep the rain out.
Sagewhisker bustled into the den and took the fern frond she was holding. “I’ll do that,” she mewed. “Raggedpelt isn’t on patrol. Go and tell him.” More gently, she added, “You have to; you know that.”
Yellowfang stared at her for a moment, then bowed her head. On reluctant paws she dragged herself out into the clearing and saw Raggedpelt gulping down a piece of prey by the fresh-kill pile.
“Can we talk?” she asked, padding up to him.
Raggedpelt eyed her coldly. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
“Believe me, we do.”
Yellowfang led Raggedpelt into the forest, pushing through the undergrowth until the camp was out of sight. Then she faced him under the dripping trees. “I’m going to have kits,” she announced.
She braced herself for the blast of Raggedpelt’s rage. Instead, the tabby tom’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s not possible!”
“Of course it’s possible!”
The confusion in Raggedpelt’s eyes faded, to be replaced with glowing happiness. “I’m going to be a father!” he breathed. “Yellowfang, that’s great! Our kits will be the best warriors and queens the Clan has ever known. One of them might become Clan leader one day.”
“But—” Yellowfang tried to interrupt. Even Raggedpelt’s anger might have been better than this total refusal to see what the problem was.
“I’ll be the best father,” he went on enthusiastically. “I’ll teach them battle moves, and show them the best places to hunt.”
“But I’m a medicine cat!” Yellowfang made him listen at last. “I’m not supposed to have kits!”
Raggedpelt blinked at her. “Well, you’ll have to stop being a medicine cat.”
“I can’t,” Yellowfang choked.
Raggedpelt’s voice grew dangerous. “Can’t, or won’t?”
“Both,” Yellowfang admitted. “I will bear these kits, and love them with all my heart, but I cannot be their mother. You will have to raise them alone.”
“I can’t do that!” Raggedpelt yelped. “How can I stay with them in the nursery and give them milk?”
“Lizardstripe is also expecting kits,” Yellowfang explained. “She can care for ours until they are old enough to feed alone. Every cat can know that they are yours, but no cats must know they are also mine.” She let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Raggedpelt. I cannot be their mother.”
Although she spoke briskly, inside Yellowfang’s heart was splitting into tiny pieces. This is the only choice I can make. I have to follow the path that StarClan has laid out for me.
The words of the small dark cat in her dream rang in her ears, warning h
er about the storm of fire and blood that would be released into her Clan, but she pushed the memory away. There was no reason to believe that the black cat had been speaking of her kits. She didn’t even know his name, or what Clan he had once belonged to.
Raggedpelt will be a good father. My kits will be in safe paws.
The warrior was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. “You mean, you’d choose to be a medicine cat for Clanmates that have no kinship with you, over caring for your own kits? Our own kits?” His voice rose to a screech. “What kind of she-cat are you? Do you care for nothing beyond yourself?”
Yellowfang tried not to crumple to the ground in despair. “I have to do this,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “Our kits will not suffer because of it.”
“What do you know about growing up with only one parent?” Raggedpelt snarled.
Too late, Yellowfang realized she had forgotten about his torment over his absent father. “This will be different!” she tried to protest. “These kits will be cared for by Lizardstripe in the nursery, and they will have you as their father, to love and be proud of them! Please, you have to do this for them!”
Raggedpelt glared at her as if she were nothing more than a rat. “Very well, but on one condition,” he mewed at last. “You must promise never to tell these kits the truth. It is better that they grow up without a mother than knowing that their mother chose to abandon them.”
Yellowfang’s heart cracked a little more as she made the promise Raggedpelt asked for. I will never abandon you, little ones, she whispered to her unborn babies. I will be with you, always.
CHAPTER 25
Griping pains in her belly woke Yellowfang, and she bit back a groan. She knew this time the agony was her own. It’s time. I have to go. Sagewhisker will cover for me.