by Erin Hunter
Puddleshine pushed his way through the brambles as Mothwing added, “You were just an apprentice. There was no reason why you should have known it was Ashfur and not StarClan who spoke to you.”
Puddleshine frowned. “They were unusual visions. I don’t know if any medicine cat would have realized they were from Ashfur. And don’t underestimate Shadowsight’s experience. Even if he was an apprentice, he’d been having visions since he was a kit.”
Shadowsight felt a flash of relief. His mentor was defending him.
“We don’t know whether the visions he had as a kit were from StarClan, either,” Mothwing argued. “Ashfur might have been grooming him from the beginning. He may have been trying to earn our trust. Why else would a kit have visions?”
The ground seemed to sway beneath Shadowsight’s paws. Could it be that StarClan had never spoken to him? Had everything he believed about himself been a lie?
Tigerstar pressed against him. “I still believe Shadowsight is a special cat.”
“He’s a gifted healer,” Puddleshine added.
“I’m sure he is,” Mothwing pressed. “But after what happened to Bramblestar, is he really ready to take sole responsibility for other cats’ lives?”
Puddleshine stared at her.
“I know you’ve had your doubts too, Puddleshine,” Mothwing mewed. “We’ve discussed them.”
Shadowsight stared at Puddleshine, feeling sick with betrayal. His mentor had been talking about him with Mothwing? For how long? Puddleshine, Mothwing, and Tigerstar glanced at one another. You all agree! Did the whole Clan think him unfit to be a medicine cat? He wanted to run and hide in the deepest part of the forest.
Puddleshine broke the silence. “Perhaps you should take a break, Shadowsight,” he mewed softly. “We would still have two medicine cats in ShadowClan. More than enough to treat every cat. Perhaps it’s best for you to go back to your apprentice duties for a while. Just until you’ve had a little more experience. A little extra training won’t do you any harm.”
“All of us can do with reminding ourselves of our skills from time to time,” Mothwing put in. “Even experienced healers like me.” She spoke gently, softly, and Shadowsight felt a flash of fury. It’s a bit late for her to try to be nice.
He could hardly look any of them in the eye. “Will I lose my medicine-cat name?” he mewed weakly. The humiliation of being called Shadowpaw again would kill him.
Tigerstar touched his nose to Shadowsight’s ear. “You will always be called Shadowsight,” he promised. “But if Puddleshine thinks a little more training will help, perhaps you should go along with it. You want to be the best medicine cat you can be, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Shadowsight’s mew cracked. “Of course I do.” But I want you to trust me again.
Mothwing shook out her fur. “It’s for the best,” she mewed, suddenly brisk. “You’ll see.”
If only he hadn’t listened to Ashfur. If only he’d known. None of this would have happened. “How long do I have to train for?” Shadowsight stared hopelessly at his father.
Tigerstar looked uncertain. “Let’s see how it goes,” he mewed. “When we’ve figured all this out and decided what to do about Ashfur, we’ll make a decision.” He looked at Puddleshine. “Right?”
“Let’s wait until StarClan returns,” Puddleshine mewed. “They’ll know better than us if you’re ready to become a full medicine cat.”
What if they say I’ll never be ready? Shadowsight swallowed. What if they think I can never be trusted after the mistake I made with Ashfur? His chest tightened in panic. Or what if StarClan never comes back? Then this temporary “break” would become permanent. He looked helplessly at his father.
Tigerstar blinked at him fondly. “No cat is blaming you,” he repeated. Shadowsight had to clench his jaws to stop himself from yowling that the more his father said this, the less he believed it.
“We just have to be cautious,” Puddleshine chimed. “Until we know who we can trust.”
Shadowsight stared at his paws. This morning he’d been a medicine cat of ShadowClan. Now he was nothing. He’d really thought that when Ashfur had been exposed, everything could go back to normal. Now he realized that as long as Ashfur was controlling Bramblestar’s body and StarClan remained silent, nothing could be normal. Darkness suddenly seemed to cloud the future like a coming storm. He stared miserably at Tigerstar. “So what do I do now?” Was he going to have to follow Puddleshine and Mothwing around and fetch herbs for them like a ’paw?
Tigerstar met his gaze, brightening a little. “We’ve been thinking about that, and Puddleshine has an idea.”
Shadowsight walked stiffly past Sagenose and Mintfur. The SkyClan warriors nodded as he passed but didn’t question why he’d come. They probably guessed from the herbs bunched between his jaws. Did they know he was an apprentice again? Would they spread word to SkyClan? Shame burned his pelt as he dipped his head and carried the herbs into the bramble enclosure, eyeing the hole in the hollow tree warily. Ashfur must be resting inside. At least I’m still allowed to treat one cat unsupervised, Shadowsight consoled himself. Even though it’s only Ashfur. He grunted bitterly to himself. Perhaps Tigerstar and Puddleshine are hoping I’m so useless, I’ll accidentally kill him.
He dropped the herbs on the ground and began to sort them into piles. Marigold for wounds, poppy seeds in case Ashfur was still in pain from his battle injuries, and some nettle leaves, soaked to remove their sting, to reduce any swelling around the impostor’s cuts and bruises. Shadowsight’s fur pricked resentfully. Why did he have to treat the cat who’d ruined his life?
The sun was dipping behind the trees, and it was chilly in their shadow. As Shadowsight fluffed out his pelt, fur brushed over bark behind him. He spun around.
Ashfur was sliding from the hollow tree, interest shining in his eyes. His pelt was still ruffled and bloody from the battle and his more recent tussle with Reedwhisker and Hawkwing. He’d made no effort at all to groom himself, and Shadowsight wondered if the prisoner simply didn’t care about the body he had stolen.
Ashfur’s gaze flitted to the herbs. “You’re still a medicine cat, then?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Shadowsight tried to ignore the sting of his words.
“I thought your Clanmates might think twice about trusting you after you’d passed on my messages so helpfully.”
“I didn’t know they were your messages!” Anger flared in Shadowsight’s chest. The impostor had known exactly what would happen to the cat he chose to speak for him.
Ashfur looked amused. Shadowsight’s anger hardened into hate. He grabbed marigold and nettle leaves between his teeth and began to chew them into an ointment. He wished he’d brought oak leaves instead of marigold. Ashfur deserved to feel their sting. He pushed the thought away. I’m still a medicine cat, no matter what Mothwing or Puddleshine—or my father—says. I’m going to behave like one.
He spat the ointment onto a paw and nodded at the largest wound on Ashfur’s flank. “Has it been giving you any pain?” he asked.
“No more than you’d expect.” Ashfur was watching him intently.
Shadowsight tried to ignore his gaze as he approached and applied the ointment to the gash, checking for swelling as he smeared it over the broken flesh. The wound was drying. It would be healed quite soon.
“Why didn’t Puddleshine come to treat me?” Ashfur asked.
“He’s busy.” Shadowsight glanced toward Sagenose and Mintfur. Would they wonder what the impostor was saying to him? “I’m only here to take care of your wounds.”
Ashfur must have noticed him look at the guards. “Are you scared they’ll think we’re friends?”
“No!” Shadowsight sat up. “No cat would ever think I’d be your friend.”
“But you’ve helped me so much.” Ashfur’s eyes sparkled knowingly. “Aren’t your Clanmates worried you’ll help me again?”
“They know I’d never help you now that I know who you are and
what you want,” Shadowsight snapped.
“And what do I want?”
“You want to hurt us!”
Ashfur watched him thoughtfully for a moment, then spoke again. “We’re quite alike, you and me,” he mewed softly.
“No, we’re not!” This warrior has bees in his brain. “We’re not alike at all!”
“Are you sure?” Ashfur tipped his head to one side. “Neither of us really belongs.”
“I belong!” Shadowsight glared at him.
Ashfur looked unconvinced. “Do all the other cats in ShadowClan hear messages from dead cats?”
“Puddleshine does.”
“But not from dead cats like me.” Ashfur looked amused. “What did your Clanmates say when they found out you’d been passing on messages from me, and not from StarClan?”
“I thought you were StarClan!”
“I’m sure your Clanmates find that very reassuring,” Ashfur murmured. “Is that why they only trust you to take care of traitors now?”
Shadowsight growled as frustration pulsed through him. Was Ashfur always going to be like this? He glared at the impostor. He didn’t even look like Bramblestar now, even though he was still using the Thunderclan leader’s body. He had the slinking, furtive look of a rogue. “Why?” he hissed.
Ashfur looked puzzled. “Why what?”
Shadowsight fought the rage that was pressing in his throat. “Why did you choose me?”
Ashfur frowned, as though considering the question.
Shadowsight watched him, curling his claws deep into the earth to keep his paws from trembling.
At last, Ashfur answered. “You were young and impressionable,” he told him simply. “And you could already share with StarClan. It helped that you were Tigerstar’s son. Anyone who questioned you would have had to answer to him. And Tigerstar is so stubborn and loyal, he’d defend you no matter how crazy your visions sounded.” Ashfur sniffed the ointment Shadowsight had smeared along his flank.
Shadowsight felt a tingle in his belly; relief at Ashfur confirming that he could share with StarClan. But then sadness swarmed that feeling, and seemed to set his chest on fire. All the moons he’d spent thinking he was special . . . But he wasn’t special. He was just young and stupid. Tigerstar and Dovewing had been wrong. Or they’d just been humoring him. He had never been special. He was a mouse-brain who thought he was special. How had he not realized he was being used? “Didn’t you care what would happen to me?” he mewed miserably.
Ashfur narrowed his eyes. “Not at the time.”
“And now?” Shadowsight looked at him. “Don’t you feel guilty that you’ve ruined my life?”
“I never feel guilty,” Ashfur told him. “And I don’t think I’ve ruined your life.”
“I feel like you have.”
“Maybe you should stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Ashfur mewed coolly. “You’re still a medicine cat, aren’t you?”
A medicine-cat apprentice, Shadowsight thought bitterly.
Ashfur pressed on. “And you’re a natural.”
“I am?” Shadowsight pricked his ears.
“You’ve had visions from StarClan since you were a kit,” Ashfur reminded him. “And you were perceptive enough to hear my messages.” He paused, as though thinking. “I may have been smarter than I thought in choosing you.”
Shadowsight leaned closer, eager to hear more. Some cat still had faith in him. He knew Ashfur was a liar, but perhaps his time in StarClan had taught the dead warrior something living cats didn’t know yet.
“I’m beginning to see that there may be something about you after all.” Ashfur lowered his voice. “Something very special indeed.”
Chapter 6
Leafstar’s den was stuffy. A thick layer of clouds had rolled in overnight, and it seemed to have gathered the heat of the past few days, pressing it so close that Rootspring’s pelt itched. He wished he could have this conversation with Leafstar outside, but the air there was barely fresher, and besides, Tree had insisted they talk in private. He didn’t want to alarm their Clanmates.
Leafstar blinked at Rootspring expectantly, her amber eyes shining in the gloom of the den. Rootspring glanced at Tree, hoping he’d speak, but Tree only returned his gaze, as expectant as Leafstar.
Rootspring lifted his chin and reminded himself that he was a warrior now and could speak for himself. “We haven’t seen any ghosts,” he began.
“So?” Leafstar looked puzzled.
“After the battle . . .” Rootspring wished he’d planned what he was going to say. “With so many dead, we thought there would be ghosts at the vigil.” He searched Leafstar’s gaze. She was watching him, eyes dark with concern. Does she think I’m weird for wanting to see ghosts?
“Surely they’ve gone to StarClan?” Leafstar didn’t seem to understand.
“But I saw ghosts after the first attack on Bramblestar,” Rootspring explained. “When Conefoot and Stemleaf died. And I saw Bramblestar—”
“Recently?” Leafstar leaned forward.
“No.” Rootspring dropped his gaze. I’m explaining this badly. “I haven’t seen Bramblestar in a moon.”
Leafstar’s shoulders drooped. Rootspring took a breath and tried again.
“After Ashfur stole Bramblestar’s body, I saw ghosts,” he mewed. “Like Bramblestar and Stemleaf. They were still in the forest. But this time, none of the warriors who died seem to be around.”
“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Leafstar still seemed puzzled. “It means they’ve found their way to StarClan.”
Rootspring stared at her. She was still missing the point.
Tree dipped his head politely. “I don’t think that’s possible now.”
“But dead warriors always go to StarClan. It’s the way things are.” Leafstar blinked at him.
“But we haven’t been able to reach StarClan for so long,” Tree pressed. “There might be nowhere for them to go.” He hesitated as Leafstar closed her eyes.
She seemed to understand at last. “You think they can’t reach StarClan, either.”
“I don’t know,” Tree mewed. “But it seems likely, doesn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And, if it’s true, the dead should still be here in the forest, where we can see them.” He glanced at Rootspring.
“That’s why we thought we would see them at the vigil,” Rootspring mewed. “But none of them showed up.”
“Perhaps they simply didn’t want to watch their own vigil.” Leafstar seemed determined to be hopeful.
Rootspring felt a pang of pity for his leader. He didn’t want to upset her, but she had to know the truth. “We saw a kittypet ghost on our way back from the island,” he told her. “She said she’d seen a few warrior ghosts, but they kept fading.” He met her gaze solemnly. “She said they looked scared.”
Tree leaned closer. “We think they’re disappearing.”
“Into nothing.” Rootspring’s mew grew husky as he finished his father’s thought.
Leafstar stared at them for a moment, then sighed. “You need to tell the other Clans,” she mewed. “They must know what’s happening to their dead Clanmates.”
Rootspring’s heart dropped. It had been hard enough telling her.
“I’ll send word to the Clan leaders to meet me today,” Leafstar went on. “We’ll travel to the island this evening. You and Tree can tell them what you told me.”
Rootspring dipped his head to Leafstar. “Okay,” he mewed. He glanced at Tree, relieved that his father would be with him.
“. . . so we think they might be fading into nothing.” Rootspring looked around apprehensively at the leaders. They’d brought their medicine cats, and as the light faded over the lake, they listened with pricked ears. Water lapped the shore a few tail-lengths away. The cats had gathered at the far edge of the island, a short distance from the clearing, unwilling, perhaps, to break the silence of yesterday’s vigil.
A cool breeze had swept away the oppressive heat, bringing a
n oncoming rainstorm that already showed as a shadow over the distant moor. Rootspring fluffed out his fur as he waited for someone to speak.
Tigerstar shifted his paws. The ShadowClan leader looked strangely satisfied, as though the news settled something that had been weighing on his mind. “If it’s true, and the dead are disappearing, we must accept that Bramblestar’s ghost is already gone.”
Squirrelflight stared at him in disbelief. “How could you say such a thing?”
Harestar’s hackles lifted. “If our dead Clanmates are disappearing,” the WindClan leader growled, “we have to help them.”
“How?” Leafstar directed her question to the medicine cats.
Willowshine blinked back at her. She didn’t seem to hear; she was clearly still struggling with the news. “Surely StarClan would not abandon the dead even if they’ve abandoned us!”
Kestrelflight’s eyes were wide. “How can we help them without StarClan?”
“We must try harder to contact them,” Frecklewish mewed.
Jayfeather stared blindly ahead. “We’ve tried everything we know.”
Tigerstar swished his tail. “Ashfur is the one who’s caused this. If we deal with him, it might solve everything.”
Rootspring’s heart quickened. There was grim determination in the ShadowClan leader’s mew. The other leaders exchanged wary glances.
“You wanted to kill my mate before we knew about this,” Squirrelflight growled. “Don’t try to convince any cat that this is about the Clans.”
Tigerstar met her stare. “We’re keeping Bramblestar’s murderer alive for no reason.”
“He has Bramblestar’s body!” Squirrelflight argued.
“It sounds as though Bramblestar doesn’t need it anymore,” Tigerstar growled darkly.
“We don’t know that.” Leafstar padded between the two warriors, her pelt lifting along her spine.
Rootspring’s breath caught as Tigerstar’s gaze swung toward him.
“You said it’s been a moon since the last time you saw Bramblestar, right?” the ShadowClan leader demanded.