by Erin Hunter
CHAPTER 30
The mellow sunlight of late greenleaf shone over the camp. Sunhigh was just past, and hunting patrols were returning, their jaws laden with prey. Yellowfang and Runningpaw pushed through the brambles after an herb-gathering expedition in the marshes.
“I’ll put these away,” Yellowfang meowed as they dropped the bunches of herbs in their den. “You go check on Littlebird. Take her some wet moss.”
“Sure, Yellowfang.” Runningpaw hurried away.
Yellowfang sighed. Lizardfang joined StarClan two moons ago, and now Littlebird was growing very frail. Yellowfang was worried that soon she would have to say farewell to her old friend.
She had begun to sort the herbs when she heard a paw step outside the den and Tanglepaw hopped in on three legs.
“What happened to you?” Yellowfang asked.
“I got scratched.” Tanglepaw turned to show Yellowfang a nasty claw mark scored across one of her haunches.
“How did you get this?” Yellowfang gasped, wondering if there was a fox in the territory.
“I was practicing a battle move with Brokenpaw,” Tanglepaw explained, not sounding particularly bothered.
Yellowfang gazed at the young she-cat in horror. “You’re supposed to fight with claws sheathed! You know that!”
“Yes, but Brokenpaw said we’d get even better if there was a real threat of getting hurt!” Tanglepaw’s eyes were shining with admiration for her denmate.
“And are you a better fighter?” Yellowfang asked dryly.
“I will be next time!” Tanglepaw promised.
Yellowfang got her to lick the wound clean while she took some marigold out of the store. Rubbing the leaves on her wound, she told Tanglepaw, “Keep it dry and rested for at least one day. And don’t fight with claws out again. I don’t care what Brokenpaw says. I don’t collect herbs just to treat mouse-brained apprentices!”
She could tell her warning had gone straight over Tanglepaw’s head. “I’m going back to the training area,” she announced as she hopped away. “I want to watch Brokenpaw beat Deerpaw!”
When she had finished tidying the herbs, Yellowfang padded into the clearing and spotted Nightpelt by the fresh-kill pile. “Do you know the apprentices were fighting with claws out?” she asked as she joined him.
Nightpelt nodded, looking exhausted as usual.
“You should stop them,” Yellowfang warned. “Tanglepaw will be okay, but one day there could be a real accident.”
“Oh, you should know better than to think that Brokenpaw would listen to me.” Nightpelt’s tone was full of unexpected bitterness. Then he flicked his ears as if he were chasing away a fly. “I’m sorry for being so tired and crabby,” he added, ending with a cough.
“I’ll send Runningpaw out to find more honey for your throat. It must hurt from all the coughing,” Yellowfang mewed sympathetically.
“Only two more moons and I won’t have to worry about being a mentor anymore,” Nightpelt murmured. “I can’t wait.”
“No cat could do his duty better,” Yellowfang assured him, though privately she thought Nightpelt needed to have fewer duties to conserve his strength. And I was right that he’s the wrong mentor for Brokenpaw. If only Cedarstar had listened to me!
A stabbing feeling in her belly woke Yellowfang. Careful not to disturb Runningpaw, asleep in his nest, she stumbled out into the clearing. Drawn-out groans were coming from Cedarstar’s den. Peering underneath the oak roots Yellowfang saw Cedarstar thrashing around in his bedding, his limbs contorted in agony.
“Cedarstar, what’s wrong?” she whispered.
There was no reply, just another groan. Yellowfang could tell that Cedarstar was not fully conscious. She slipped into the den and let herself feel his pain to guide her. She was running her paws over his belly when she became aware of another cat standing in the entrance to the den. She glanced over her shoulder to see Raggedpelt, his eyes gleaming in the starlight.
“What’s going on? I heard groaning.”
“Cedarstar is very sick,” Yellowfang mewed. “I’m not sure I can help him.”
Raggedstar nodded. “I know you’ll do your best,” he told her, for once not sounding hostile.
Cedarstar arched his back in a fresh spasm of agony. His eyes blinked, then focused on Raggedpelt. “My last life!” he gasped. “StarClan is calling me. Raggedpelt, lead my Clan well.” His body contorted again and he struggled for breath.
Yellowfang watched his heaving chest, knowing that there was nothing she or any other medicine cat could do now. Cedarstar fought on for a few heartbeats that felt like many seasons; then he went limp, falling back into the moss. Life faded from his eyes.
Yellowfang crouched beside him, reeling with sadness. She had loved the calm, wise leader, and trusted him to care for her Clan. She’d had no idea he was so close to losing his ninth life; there had been no lingering sickness, no injury that became infected, not even a frailty that she would associate with elders. Whatever had killed him had taken him swiftly, with little suffering. Perhaps that was what they should be most grateful for.
Raggedpelt bent his head to pay homage to his dead leader, then straightened up. “I must summon the Clan,” he told her. “Will we go to the Moonstone tonight so I can claim my nine lives?”
Yellowfang stared at him in surprise. Cedarstar’s body is still warm! “If … if you wish,” she stammered.
“I do wish,” Raggedpelt declared. “But first let me tell the Clan.”
Yellowfang followed him out of the den. Raggedpelt jumped onto the Clanrock and raised his voice in a yowl. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Clanrock for a meeting!”
The ShadowClan cats stumbled sleepily from their dens, gathering around the Clanrock in bewildered silence. Raggedpelt waited until they had all appeared.
“Cedarstar has lost his ninth life,” he announced. “Now he walks in StarClan, a great warrior among the lights of our ancestors.”
There was a stunned pause.
Brokenpaw broke the silence. “Raggedstar! Raggedstar!”
No other cats joined in. Raggedpelt looked very proud for a moment, then lowered his head to gaze at his son. “Don’t call me by that name yet,” he warned. “I cannot claim it until I’ve been to the Moonstone to receive my nine lives from StarClan.” Glancing at Yellowfang, he added, “I’ll go there at once, while the rest of you sit vigil over Cedarstar.”
Deerleap and Crowtail entered the Clan leader’s den and dragged his body into the clearing. Yellowfang watched as the cats lined up to pay their respects.
Russetfur’s gaze was deeply sad as she bent her head over Cedarstar’s body. “Thank you, Cedarstar,” she whispered, “for giving me a chance to become a warrior.”
Boulder padded up beside her and gave her ear a comforting lick. “And me also, Cedarstar,” he added. “Your generosity transformed our lives, and we will never forget you.”
Raggedpelt was already waiting at the entrance to the camp. As soon as Yellowfang joined him, he bounded out, his powerful muscles pumping until he was racing over the ground. Yellowfang struggled to keep up. Her belly was churning with nervousness at being alone with Raggedpelt again after so long. But he said nothing about what had happened in the past.
Instead, as she ran alongside him, he meowed, “I have waited a long time for this. I will make ShadowClan stronger than it has ever been!”
Yellowfang didn’t have enough breath to reply.
They crossed WindClan territory without meeting any WindClan warriors, and reached Highstones as a milky line of dawn appeared on the horizon. There’ll be just enough moonlight left to hit the Moonstone.
Without pausing to catch their breath, she and Raggedpelt plunged into the darkness of Mothermouth. The tabby warrior was so eager that Yellowfang was left behind. By the time she reached the cavern, Raggedpelt was sitting on the ground, gazing in awe at the glimmering crystal. “Now it’s my turn,” he whispered.
“Lie down with your nose touching the stone,” Yellowfang instructed him, gesturing with her tail. “Close your eyes, and StarClan will call you to them. And remember,” she added, “you may not speak to any cat of what happens to you now. Except to me, if there’s something you need to discuss.”
Raggedpelt gave her a brief nod and stretched out his nose to touch the Moonstone. Yellowfang settled down beside him. The cold of the stone seeped into her bones. Heartbeats later she opened her eyes and found herself in the marshy space where she had met Silverflame. Now it was shrouded in mist, through which she could hear the piping of birds and the soft lapping of water.
Raggedpelt was standing beside her. The mist began to clear, and cats appeared all around Raggedpelt, nine of them, with Cedarstar at their head. Yellowfang recognized Lizardfang and Sagewhisker, but the others were unknown to her, although she had spotted them in the distance in StarClan on previous visits.
As the cats of StarClan gathered around Raggedpelt, Yellowfang heard her name being called. “Yellowfang! Yellowfang, over here!”
She scrambled up to a clump of pine trees on a rocky bluff overlooking the marsh. To her horror, Molepelt was waiting for her there.
“The time has nearly come!” he hissed. “Darkness lies ahead! Beware the cat with blood on his paws!”
Yellowfang let anger surge through her, driving away her fear. “Go away!” she snapped. “If you can’t give me more detail, what use is this prophecy?”
Molepelt leaned closer. “The truth lies in your heart,” he hissed. “You cannot be blind to it for much longer.”
Yellowfang bunched her muscles and sprang at the black cat as if he were a piece of prey. But her paws thumped to the ground, her claws digging into earth instead of into Molepelt’s body. A swirl of mist blinded her eyes, and when it cleared again he was gone.
Turning back, Yellowfang saw the circle of StarClan warriors still surrounding Raggedpelt. As she padded across the marsh to join them, she saw the last of the nine cats step forward to speak to the new ShadowClan leader. This was a graceful she-cat with creamy brown fur who carried herself with the authority of a leader.
“My name is Dawnstar,” she meowed, her brilliant green gaze resting on Raggedpelt. “I was leader of ShadowClan many seasons ago. I give you a life for putting ShadowClan above all others. There are four Clans in the forest, but ShadowClan will always be the greatest.”
She touched her nose to Raggedpelt’s; he flinched and staggered a little, as if the pain of receiving his nine lives was becoming too much to bear.
As Dawnstar stepped back into the circle of cats, all the StarClan warriors threw back their heads and let out a howl of triumph that echoed across the marshes and rose to the glittering stars.
“Raggedstar! Raggedstar!”
Yellowfang jerked awake, shaking with cold. Raggedstar was awake too, pacing across the cavern with powerful strides. “I have nine lives!” he declared in the pale light of dawn that seeped down from the hole in the roof. “I am Raggedstar, leader of ShadowClan!”
When Raggedstar and Yellowfang returned to the camp, Yellowfang’s first duty was to go with the elders as they carried the body of their former leader out for burial. She looked up at the stars as she spoke the ritual words, wondering which of them was Cedarstar, and whether he was looking down on them now.
“May StarClan light your path,” she meowed, and added in a whisper, “Burn bright, dear friend, and watch over your Clan.”
By the time she and the elders returned, dusk was falling. Raggedstar was standing on the Clanrock, with the rest of the Clan gathered around.
Runningpaw rushed over to Yellowfang. “Raggedstar is going to appoint the new deputy!” he mewed.
Raggedstar’s gaze traveled over his Clan. “I say these words before StarClan,” he announced, “that the spirits of our ancestors may hear and approve my choice.” Once again his gaze swept around the clearing, and Yellowfang wondered if he was deliberately trying to draw out the tension. “Foxheart,” Raggedstar meowed at last, “will you do me the honor of being my deputy?”
Foxheart dipped her head, her eyes shining. “I will, Raggedstar.”
Murmurs rose up from the crowd of cats, not all of them approving. “I knew there was something going on between those two!” Brightflower exclaimed.
“Great StarClan, she’ll be insufferable now!” Amberleaf muttered.
“Foxheart! Foxheart!” The murmuring was drowned out as the Clan obediently called out Foxheart’s name, and Raggedstar bowed his head.
I’d have picked any other cat, Yellowfang thought as she joined in the yowling. But it wasn’t up to me. I will just have to put up with it.
As the noise died down, Yellowfang heard Deerpaw meow to Brokenpaw, “Wow, your father is the leader of the Clan!”
“Yeah,” Brokenpaw chirped. “I bet he wishes I was a warrior already so I could be his deputy!”
“I don’t think so,” Tanglepaw retorted crushingly.
As Brokenpaw bristled, Fernshade brushed his shoulder with the tip of her tail. “It won’t be long,” she meowed, “if you keep practicing the way you are.”
Yellowfang was distracted by Runningpaw giving her a nudge. “Littlebird says she has a pain in her head,” he reported, angling his ears to where the elder stood. “Should I give her something to help her sleep?”
“I’ll do it,” Yellowfang replied. “Come to my den, Littlebird.”
Once there, she got the poppy seeds out of the store and carefully divided one in half. “That should be enough,” she warned as Littlebird licked it up. “These seeds can be very strong.”
Littlebird sighed. “My dreams are so troubled lately, I don’t want to close my eyes.”
Yellowfang pressed her muzzle into the old cat’s shoulder. “Then I will ask StarClan to send you peaceful dreams.” Is Littlebird dreaming of blood and fire? Oh, StarClan, if you have any omens to share, send them to me! Don’t make my Clanmates frightened to sleep!
Yellowfang was clearing a pile of dead leaves from the entrance to her den when she heard Raggedstar yowling a summons to the Clan, and looked up to see him standing on the Clanrock, his fur ruffled by the cold wind. Almost two moons had passed since Cedarstar’s death, and Raggedstar had won approval from his Clanmates by allowing them to continue as they had always done, patrolling and training and guarding their borders with the protectiveness of a mother over her kits.
Calling to Runningpaw, who was busy counting juniper berries inside the den, Yellowfang headed into the clearing. Brightflower and Brackenfoot emerged from the warriors’ den, closely followed by Amberleaf, Blizzardwing, and Frogtail. Russetfur and Boulder hurried in together through the brambles, giving Yellowfang a friendly nod as they sat down close to her. The other apprentices and their mentors bounded across from the fresh-kill pile. The elders appeared at the entrance to their den.
Raggedstar gazed down at them. “I am proud of my Clan,” he began. “You are all I could have hoped for as a leader. With warriors like these, I could fight any battle! And there will be a new warrior today. Brokenpaw, step forward.”
A gasp rose from the Clan as Brokenpaw bounded forward to stand at the base of the Clanrock. Yellowfang shared her Clanmates’ astonishment. He’s only been an apprentice for five moons!
“Raggedstar,” Nightpelt meowed, stepping forward, “Brokenpaw hasn’t completed his final assessments yet.”
Brokenpaw shot a furious look at his mentor, while Raggedstar flicked his tail dismissively. “I know a cat who is ready to be a warrior when I see one,” he declared. Leaping down from the Clanrock, he faced Brokenpaw. “I, Raggedstar,” he continued, “call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. Brokenpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your own life?”
Brokenpaw puffed out his chest importan
tly as he replied, “I do.”
“Then by the powers of StarClan,” his father went on, “I give you your warrior name. Brokenpaw, from this moment you will be known as Brokentail—but let no cat see this as a sign of weakness. You are one of the strongest cats I have ever known, and I look forward to fighting alongside you! StarClan honors your courage and your fighting skills, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan.” He rested his muzzle on Brokentail’s head, and Brokentail licked his shoulder.
“Brokentail! Brokentail!” ShadowClan acclaimed the new warrior, but Yellowfang could see that some of the cats were less than happy. Though the warriors yowled his name with approval, his fellow apprentices were staring at one another with a mixture of dismay and anger. Yellowfang was close enough to hear Deerpaw mutter, “This is so unfair! Just because his father is Clan leader!”
“This would never have happened in my day,” Archeye commented from where he sat in front of the elders’ den. “What’s next? Kit warriors?”
Brokentail stood in the center of the clearing, lapping up his Clan’s yowls of welcome. As Yellowfang looked at him more closely, a thrill of horror passed through her. His legs were stained with blood, the brown fur dark and wet. The air stirred beside her and a voice whispered, “Beware the cat with blood on his paws....”
Yellowfang whirled around, looking for Molepelt, but she saw only her Clanmates, still watching the new warrior. Pushing her way through the crowd, she reached Brokentail’s side. “Are you okay?” she whispered. “Is that blood on your fur?”
Brokentail looked surprised. “No, it’s water. I got wet when I was chasing a lizard in the marshes, that’s all.”
Relief surged through Yellowfang. Now that she was close enough to smell his fur, she realized that it was just peaty water turning his legs dark.
Everything’s fine. And stay away from me, Molepelt, with your stupid prophecies!
She stepped back as other cats padded up to congratulate her son.
“You’re welcome on my patrols anytime,” Blackfoot meowed.