Night Whispers

by Erin Hunter

  “Then why are you talking to me?”

  “I want to know if they told you the same thing.”

  Yellowfang’s matted outline suddenly shimmered at the edge of Jayfeather’s awareness. His pelt pricked as he sensed the old medicine cat’s presence. “I’m not telling you what StarClan shares with me,” he grunted.

  “Then they have told you the same!”

  Jayfeather bit back a reply as Mothwing pressed on. “They told you to stop talking to me, and you have!” Her tail scraped the snow. “If StarClan told you to jump in the lake, would you?”

  Jayfeather bristled. “That’s not the same.”

  “Really?” Mothwing leaned closer. “How many times has another Clan helped us save our Clanmates?”

  Jayfeather shrugged.

  “They’re asking us to stop doing something that medicine cats have done since the Clans were born. They’re asking us to let cats die. Have they gone mad?”

  “Remember to hold your tongue.” Yellowfang’s rasping mew sounded in Jayfeather’s ear. “If you don’t keep quiet, all four Clans will be lost to the darkness.”

  “They’re StarClan,” he muttered. “They have their reasons.”

  “What reasons?” Mothwing growled. Her fishy breath billowed in his face. “You don’t know, do you?”

  He pulled away. “I can’t explain it to you.”

  “I know when something feels wrong,” she argued. “Our code is different from the warrior code. It reaches across boundaries. To us, every cat is simply that—a cat, with the same right to life as any other. We made a promise to heal and protect, remember?”

  “Then protect your Clanmates,” Jayfeather snapped back. “But leave mine alone.”

  “What if Sandstorm’s whitecough turns to greencough?” Mothwing’s muzzle was close to his again. “Could you let her die because StarClan told you to?”

  “They have their reasons.” Jayfeather dug his claws into the snow.

  “They’re just dead warriors!” Mothwing hissed. “Do you think that when they die, they get clever and brave? Don’t you realize that some of them may be as foolish and wrong-headed as they were when they were alive?”

  Jayfeather wrinkled his nose against Yellowfang’s rancid breath. He felt her matted pelt snag his. She hadn’t changed a whisker when she’d joined StarClan. A growl rumbled in his throat. “You’ve never met a warrior from StarClan,” he spat. “You’re just guessing.”

  “So are they!”

  Yellowfang growled beside him. “Mothwing was born an idiot. She’ll die an idiot.”

  Jayfeather turned away. “You won’t convince me.”

  Mothwing let out a slow, frustrated breath. “Okay, okay!” She bounded after him, spraying him with snow. “Do you need herbs for whitecough? I’ve got tansy and catmint—not much, but enough to share if you’re desperate.”

  “No, thank you.” Jayfeather forced out the words as he clambered up the bank.

  Mothwing halted behind him. “If you do, come find me.”

  “I won’t.” Jayfeather trudged up the slope. The snow on the shore crunched as Mothwing headed back toward the WindClan border.

  The icy wind tugged at Jayfeather’s fur. “Happy now?” he growled to Yellowfang. But she had vanished.

  He broke into a run, bounding up the slope and into the trees. His paws followed the trail home, and his lungs stung harder with each frosty breath, until he skidded, panting, to a halt outside the thorn barrier.

  Poppyfrost met him when he wove his way through. “Cherrykit can’t breathe!”

  Jayfeather pushed past the queen and hurried across the clearing. He could hear the kit’s paws scuffing the snow outside the nursery.

  Anxiety sparked from Daisy. “We kept her outside like you told us, but now she’s wheezing.”

  Jayfeather stopped Cherrykit with a flick of his tail and pressed his ear to her flank. There was thickness in her chest that rattled every time she breathed in. “Has she been coughing?” he asked Poppyfrost.

  “A little,” the queen answered.

  “Take her inside.”

  “What about the fresh air?” Daisy demanded.

  “She needs rest now.” Jayfeather nosed Cherrykit toward her mother. “Wash her. Keep her damp. It’ll keep her cool.”

  Cherrykit yelped with indignation as Poppyfrost scooped her up and squeezed into the nursery.

  Daisy trotted after Jayfeather as he headed for his den. “Are you fetching herbs for her?”

  “I will, if she gets worse.”

  “Why not now?”

  Jayfeather turned. “I don’t have enough,” he hissed under his breath.

  “What about the leaves Rosepetal brought in?”

  “That was yarrow,” Jayfeather explained. “Only good for expelling poison.”

  “But whoever found those leaves might be able to find tansy or catmint.”

  “When I find out who it was, I’ll ask them.” Jayfeather wanted to get back to his den and check Sandstorm.

  “Is something wrong with Cherrykit?” Sorreltail was hurrying toward them.

  “Just a little wheezing,” Jayfeather told her.

  “Is Cherrykit sick?” Jayfeather prickled with frustration as Dovepaw dropped a sour-smelling squirrel and joined them.

  “Just some wheezing!” he repeated.

  Daisy’s tail swished. “He sent Mousewhisker to his nest earlier because he was coughing.”

  “And Bumblestripe was coughing half the night,” Sorreltail added.

  Leafpool’s mew sounded close by. “Sandstorm hasn’t left the medicine den all morning.”

  Was the whole Clan going to join in? Jayfeather lashed his tail. “Stop worrying! I can—”

  Dovepaw cut Jayfeather off. “There’s greencough in ShadowClan,” she mewed.

  Leafpool’s breathing quickened.

  “Greencough?” Daisy’s mew was barely a whisper.

  Jayfeather thrust his muzzle toward Dovepaw. “How bad is it?”

  Dovepaw’s pads brushed the snow as she shifted her paws. “J-just Littlecloud.” Her mew was suddenly awkward.

  “No one else?” Jayfeather pressed. She must have been listening in to the ShadowClan camp. He knew how uncomfortable she was about spying on other cats.

  “No.”

  “Good.” He flicked his tail. He needed to distract the others before they started wondering how Dovepaw knew what was going on in ShadowClan. “Why don’t you and Sorreltail fetch Cherrykit a wet moss ball?” he suggested to Daisy. “And Dovepaw, put that stinky old squirrel on the fresh-kill pile before someone trips over it.” He headed toward the medicine den.

  Leafpool followed him. “What are you going to do?”

  “About what?”

  She was almost treading on his heels. “About Littlecloud?”

  “Pray to StarClan.”

  “Is that all?”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Help him!” Leafpool’s mew was sharp.

  “Why?”

  “You’re a medicine cat!”

  Jayfeather halted and faced Leafpool. She didn’t know that StarClan had ordered him to cut ties with the other medicine cats, and he wasn’t about to tell her. When she’d given up being a medicine cat, she’d given up the right to share with StarClan. But he understood her. He’d shared tongues and gossip with Littlecloud at the Moonpool enough times to have formed a bond with the old ShadowClan cat. He lowered his voice. “There’s enough sickness here without worrying about other Clans,” he murmured. “My supplies are low. I need every scrap to treat our Clanmates.”

  Leafpool didn’t reply. Her silence made his pelt prick. “There is nothing I can do, even if I wanted to,” he hissed. He turned and headed for his den.

  Could you let a cat die because StarClan told you to? Mothwing’s words echoed in his ears.

  Leafpool’s gaze burned his pelt. Jayfeather could see her thoughts, clear as dreaming. They were focused on the patch of herbs he�
��d nursed beside the old Twoleg nest. Would she steal them to help Littlecloud?

  No!

  Yet he couldn’t risk it. Her connection with Littlecloud was long and deep. He veered away from the medicine den, tasting the air. Brambleclaw was below Highledge, talking with Spiderleg and Berrynose.

  “Brambleclaw?” He padded toward the ThunderClan deputy.

  “Yes?”

  “I need to ask you something,” Jayfeather whispered.

  “What?” Brambleclaw lowered his voice.

  “There’s sickness in the camp,” Jayfeather began. “Only whitecough, but that’s enough. The herb patches I’ve grown are more precious than ever. I want you to post a guard around them.”

  “A guard?” Surprise sharpened Brambleclaw’s mew. “You don’t think anyone would steal them?”

  “There’s sickness in ShadowClan, too,” Jayfeather explained. “They know about the herbs. They were planning to take our territory to get their paws on them, remember?”

  Brambleclaw’s tail swished through the air. “That was part of Ivypaw’s dream,” he growled.

  “Exactly,” Jayfeather meowed. Ivypaw’s dream may not have come from any cat in StarClan, but maybe it had its uses after all. “And the forest is full of starving prey who might be grateful for a few juicy stems.”

  “Berrynose! Spiderleg!” Brambleclaw summoned the two warriors. “Do you know where Jayfeather’s herb patches are, beside the Twoleg nest?”

  “I do,” Spiderleg answered.

  “I want them guarded, day and night.”

  Jayfeather stepped forward. “No cat or prey must get near them,” he urged. “They’re too precious to lose.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them safe!” Berrynose bounded away.

  “I’ll send a relief patrol at sundown,” Brambleclaw called as the two warriors pounded across the clearing.

  Jayfeather closed his eyes. The Dark Forest was growing in strength. The cats in StarClan were frightened. And now he didn’t trust his Clanmates. The ground seemed to rock beneath his paws.

  “I must stay strong,” he murmured to himself. “I must stay strong.”

  Chapter 20

  Dovepaw crouched behind a tangle of ivy. She flattened her belly against the snow, keeping low in the gully so that no moon shadow spread out behind her.

  Paw steps had nearly reached the top of the gully. Opening her mouth, she tasted the familiar scent. Her belly fluttered. Another tail-length. She held her breath. Almost there.

  “Got you!” She shot up the short, steep slope and sent Tigerheart rolling across the forest floor.

  “I give up!”

  She scrambled off him. “One night you’ll get here first.”

  “I thought I was early tonight.” He smoothed his ruffled pelt. “It’s as if you know exactly when I leave camp!”

  Dovepaw dropped her gaze. “Yeah, right,” she mumbled. “Like I can hear you creeping out of your nest.” She changed the subject. “I wonder how much longer this snow’s going to last.”

  Tigerheart shrugged. “It’s better than rain.”

  “But it’s impossible to go anywhere without leaving a trail.”

  “A good warrior can follow a trail without snow.”

  Dovepaw leaned forward and rubbed her nose against his cheek. “I could find your trail on water,” she murmured.

  A purr rumbled in his throat. “I’ve missed you.”

  Border scents filled the air around them, ThunderClan mingling with ShadowClan. “Should we go to the abandoned Twoleg nest?” Dovepaw suggested.

  “There’s no time tonight.” Tigerheart sighed. “Blackstar’s sending out extra patrols at moonhigh and dawn.”

  Dovepaw tipped her head. “Why?”

  “We’re hunting for herbs as well as prey.”

  “Is Littlecloud worse?”

  “Yes.” His belly growled. “And the Clan’s getting hungry.”

  Dovepaw pressed her cheek against Tigerheart’s. ThunderClan was lucky that whitecough hadn’t turned to greencough. “I wish I could help.” She pictured Jayfeather’s fat clumps of juicy herbs growing by the Twoleg nest, protected from the ice by heaps of bracken. “But Jayfeather’s made sure no one can take leaves from his herb patch.”

  Tigerheart pricked his ears. “Herb patch?”

  “The plants he’s been nursing since greenleaf.”

  “He’s been growing herbs?”

  Dovepaw drew away, surprised. “I thought you knew.” She frowned. “Isn’t that why ShadowClan wanted our territory?”

  Tigerheart stared at her. “We never wanted ThunderClan territory.”

  “But Ivy—” Dovepaw stopped herself. There was no need for Tigerheart to hear about Ivypaw’s dream. “I thought that’s why we had the battle.”

  “It was Firestar who wanted territory,” Tigerheart meowed. “He asked for the clearing back.”

  Dovepaw shifted her paws. Only because Ivypaw persuaded him to. She shook out her pelt. She didn’t want to argue with Tigerheart. The battle was over. “Never mind.”

  “But Jayfeather has herbs.” Tigerheart leaned closer. “Which herbs?”

  “Just some tansy.” The words felt sticky on her tongue. She couldn’t lie to Tigerheart, but it felt disloyal to tell him about Jayfeather’s precious supply. “A bit of catmint.”

  “Catmint?” Tigerheart’s eyes shone. “Would he let us have some?”

  Dovepaw felt hot. “Leafpool’s asked him to give you some already.”

  “And?”

  “He said no.”

  “But Littlecloud might die!”

  “He said we have to look after our own Clan.” Dovepaw wove around Tigerheart, brushing against him. Come on, Tigerheart, let’s have fun! She flicked his nose with her tail. “Let’s see who can climb highest.” She glanced up at the pine beside them, wondering if her claws were strong enough yet to make it up the trunk to the lowest branch. It stuck out high above her head.

  “Did you hear me?” Tigerheart snapped. “Littlecloud might die.”

  Dovepaw dropped her gaze, her heart sinking. “I could steal some,” she offered. Her belly twisted.

  “No.” Tigerheart was firm. “You can’t steal from your own Clan for me.”

  Relief swamped her. “I can try and persuade Jayfeather to give you some.”

  Tigerheart touched his nose to hers. “Thank you,” he murmured. Dovepaw felt a rush of affection for him. “I just hope we get some herbs soon,” Tigerheart went on. “Otherwise the Clan is going to starve to death while we’re scraping the forest floor for leaves.”

  “Watch this.” Dovepaw scuttled backward to the top of the slope. She was going to distract Tigerheart even if it meant falling on her nose. She crouched, pushed up hard with her hind legs, and stretched her forepaws back over her head, trying to reach her tail. Arcing her belly toward the sky, she reached for the ground, praying that she’d manage to complete the backflip.

  She landed on her chin with a thump that knocked the wind from her. Thrusting her claws through the snow into the frozen forest floor, she managed to stop herself from rolling down the slope.

  Tigerheart was purring with amusement. “Smooth landing.”

  “Keep watching.” She scrabbled to her paws and crouched down, ready to try again, but Tigerheart laid his tail over her shoulders.

  “Wait a moment.”

  “What?” She looked at him.

  His front paw flicked up and a clump of snow hit her on the nose.

  “Hey!” Dovepaw leaped to her feet, scooped up a pawful, and flung it at him. Tigerheart ducked as the snow sailed past his ear. Dovepaw lunged at him playfully and tumbled him into the snow.

  “Whoa!” Tigerheart pretended to lose his balance and rolled over and over down the short, steep slope, holding Dovepaw in his strong grip. She squeaked as they rolled to a halt. Out of breath, they lay entangled in each other’s paws. Dovepaw felt a surge of happiness so strong that she broke into a purr.

  Th
en she stiffened.

  “What?” Tigerheart tensed beside her.

  “Paw steps.” She had forgotten to listen out for danger. Now she could hear fur brushing bracken and pads scraping over the frost-crusted snow. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Who?”

  Dovepaw tasted the air. Her tail bushed out. “Ivypaw!”

  Too late!

  Her sister’s white face appeared at the top of the slope. “I knew it!” she hissed.

  Dovepaw lifted her chin. “You knew ages ago!”

  “But now I’ve seen it for myself.” Ivypaw’s eyes glittered.

  Tigerheart straightened up beside Dovepaw. “You’re on ShadowClan territory,” he challenged.

  “So’s she!” Ivypaw snorted. “At least I’m not betraying my Clan.”

  Dovepaw flashed with rage. “You betray us every night in the Dark Forest!”

  Did Tigerheart flinch? Dovepaw glanced at him. His gaze was fixed on Ivypaw.

  Ivypaw lifted her tail. “Are you going to tell her, Tigerheart, or should I?”

  Dovepaw leaned forward, her ears flat. “Don’t start that again!” There’s no way Tigerheart would train in the Dark Forest!

  Ivypaw’s gaze was still locked with Tigerheart’s. Dovepaw felt a chill along her spine.

  “You see?” Ivypaw snarled at Tigerheart. “My sister doesn’t believe me.” The tip of her tail began to twitch. “Perhaps she’ll believe you.”

  No! Dovepaw began to back away. Please don’t let Tigerheart be part of the Dark Forest too.

  Bracken rustled behind Ivypaw. Dovepaw gasped as Tigerheart shoved her underneath a pile of dead brambles. “Stay still,” he hissed.

  Dovepaw flattened herself against the ground and held her breath. The air was thick with ShadowClan scents.

  “What’s happening here?” She recognized Smokefoot’s deep growl.

  Tigerheart’s paws scrabbled on the snow. “I found her near the border.”

  Trembling, Dovepaw peered through the tendrils. She could just make out Smokefoot and Applefur at the top of the slope. The ShadowClan warriors were glowering at Ivypaw.

  Tigerheart puffed his chest out beside the ThunderClan apprentice. “I was about to bring her back to camp so Blackstar could question her.”

  “Really?” Applefur narrowed his eyes. “Why were you wandering about in the middle of the night?”