by Erin Hunter
As Violetkit ran after Twigkit, her heart leaped. She’d been so lonely in ShadowClan. Now she was with her littermate again. And they were playing like she hadn’t played since they’d been parted. She felt like she might burst with joy.
They played until they were both out of breath and scrambled to a halt in front of Alderpaw and Needlepaw. The apprentices were talking, Alderpaw watching Needlepaw with wide, beseeching eyes, while Needlepaw paced back and forth, her tail high.
“I bet Tawnypelt is a grumpier mentor than Jayfeather.”
“No cat is grumpier than Jayfeather.”
Violetkit interrupted them. “Why don’t you play?”
Alderpaw blinked at her. “I’ve been training all day,” he told her. “I don’t want to play.”
Needlepaw rolled her eyes. “ThunderClan cats are so dull.”
“That’s not true.” Alderpaw nudged her shoulder teasingly with his nose.
Needlepaw stepped away. “Come on.” She nodded at Violetkit. “We’d better head home.”
“Home?” Grief jabbed Violetkit’s heart. Weren’t she and Twigkit meant to be together now? Wasn’t that why Needlepaw had brought her here? She blinked desperately at the ShadowClan she-cat. “Is Twigkit coming with us?”
“Twigkit can’t come to ShadowClan.” Needlepaw sounded surprised.
“Then why did you bring me here?” Violetkit asked. She wanted to wail.
“To visit your sister.” Needlepaw shrugged. “You’ve had fun, haven’t you? Now it’s time to go.”
Sorrow threatened to knock Violetkit off her paws as Alderpaw glanced up through the branches. “Dawn will be coming soon. We should get home before the camps start to wake up.”
“Ours is already awake,” Needlepaw sniffed. “Littlecloud died yesterday. The old cats are sitting vigil.”
Alderpaw’s gaze darkened with sorrow. “I’m sad to hear that.”
Needlepaw shrugged. “It’s not exactly a surprise. He was, like, the oldest cat in the forest.” Needlepaw headed upslope toward the pines. “Come on, Violetkit.”
Violetkit stared at her numbly, struggling to understand. Why would Needlepaw bring her here and then just take her away?
Needlepaw flicked her tail. “We need to get back before Pinenose notices you’re gone.”
Violetkit’s throat tightened. She stared desperately at Twigkit. “Did you know we were just visiting?”
“Alderpaw explained.” Her sister touched her muzzle gently to her cheek. “He and Needlepaw wanted to cheer us up. This was the best way he could think of.” Her warm, sweet breath tickled Violetkit’s ear. Violetkit pressed against her, trembling. Suddenly she remembered what it felt like to sleep beside her sister, curled tight against her soft fur.
“We’ll see each other again soon,” Twigkit promised.
Violetkit wasn’t convinced. “How do you know that?”
“Because we have to.” Twigkit pulled away, her eyes round. “We’re kin.”
Alderpaw dipped his head toward Twigkit. “Come on. We’d better hurry.” Gently he nosed her away, up a leaf-strewn bank.
Violetkit’s belly grew hollow as she watched him guide her over the top. Leaves swished as they disappeared into the shadow of the woods.
“No!” The wail escaped her before she could swallow it back. Sadness pressed around her like freezing water. She had to go back to ShadowClan, where no one wanted to play with her; where she couldn’t smell her sister’s warm scent. She’d be alone again.
A warm muzzle touched the top of her head. Violetkit’s heart lurched. She looked up, surprised to see Needlepaw gazing at her with soft, sympathetic eyes.
“Don’t worry, toad-brain,” Needlepaw mewed gently.
“But I belong with her! Not with ShadowClan.” Anger surged through Violetkit’s chest. “ShadowClan doesn’t want me. No one cares about me there. I’m so lonely!”
Needlepaw’s eyes glistened kindly. “I know how that feels, kit.” She ran her tail softly along Violetkit’s spine. Then she puffed out her chest as though she’d made an important decision. “But that’s going to change. From now on, I’m going to look out for you. You’re going to be fine.”
Violetkit blinked at her, a flicker of hope piercing her sorrow. It still hurt terribly that she didn’t have her sister in ShadowClan, and that so many of the cats there barely seemed to notice her. But she saw sincerity in Needlepaw’s eyes. Maybe now all that would change.
Maybe now she finally had a friend.
CHAPTER 3
A half-moon after Alderpaw brought Twigkit to play with her littermate, he was surprised when Dovewing nosed her way into the medicine den and asked him to report to the Highledge. Squirrelflight had returned with Lionblaze and Cinderheart.
He followed her excitedly and left her at the foot of the rock tumble to join Bramblestar, Squirrelflight, Lionblaze, and Cinderheart at the top.
“Did you find anything?” he asked as soon as he reached them.
Squirrelflight met his gaze darkly.
Bramblestar looked worried. “The gorge was empty.”
“Empty?” Alderpaw could hardly believe his ears. “What about the rogues we met on our quest?” He knew that Bramblestar had warned the patrol that they might find cats pretending to be SkyClan at the gorge.
“There was no one there,” Lionblaze confirmed.
“A few stragglers,” Cinderheart chipped in. “But they were just loners passing through. There was no sign of fresh nests in the gorge. The dens were deserted.”
Alderpaw’s thoughts swam. “But if the rogues are gone, SkyClan might return to the gorge. They might not have anyplace else to go.” We might find what is in the shadows after all. “We should send the patrol back to search again.”
“There’s no point,” Squirrelflight told him. “We checked the whole area. If there are any SkyClan cats left, they’re nowhere near the gorge.”
“They’d be mouse-brained to go back there,” Lionblaze meowed bluntly. “The gorge is far too open to attack. It’s clear they can’t defend it.”
Bramblestar was frowning. “I wonder where they’ve gone.”
“Who?” Alderpaw blinked at him. “SkyClan?”
“The rogues.” Bramblestar’s expression was serious.
“Don’t you care about SkyClan?” Alderpaw glared at him.
“Keep your voice down!” Squirrelflight glanced nervously at Dovewing at the bottom of the rocks. She was staring up at them with a wide, curious gaze. Thornclaw and Poppyfrost were washing nearby, while Purdy, Millie, and Graystripe lounged outside the elders’ den.
Bramblestar turned his gaze toward Alderpaw. “What can we do?” He looked distressed. “SkyClan is lost to us.”
Squirrelflight eyed their Clanmates below. Lionblaze and Cinderheart glanced at each other in surprise.
“So you’re giving up on the prophecy?” Alderpaw demanded.
“We still have the kits, remember?” Cinderheart shifted her paws. “They were found in shadow. They might still have a part to play.”
Alderpaw wished he could believe her. The kits were special, he was sure. They had been found in shadow. But they couldn’t be all there was to StarClan’s prophecy. What about clearing the skies? Even though he felt a twinge of disloyalty toward Twigkit for thinking it, the prophecy had to be about SkyClan. They were Clan cats, after all, and he couldn’t believe StarClan would let them disappear without doing something.
He eyed his father curiously before departing, but Bramblestar wouldn’t meet his gaze. Frustration surged through Alderpaw’s limbs as he excused himself and made his way back to the medicine-cat den.
He had to believe SkyClan was still out there. But he knew Bramblestar wasn’t about to change his mind.
“Excuse me.” Alderpaw nudged past Fernsong. The yellow tabby tom was blocking his view of Honeykit.
“Lilyheart asked me to bring her to you,” Fernsong explained again.
“I know. She has a bellyache.” Jayfea
ther flicked his tail at Fernsong. “You already told us.”
Fernsong paced around the white-and-yellow kit, his pelt prickling with worry. “Lilyheart was busy with the other kits, and Honeykit has been miserable all morning. I was going to go hunting with Ivypool, but Lilyheart asked me—”
“To bring her here. Yes! We know.” Jayfeather touched his nose to Honeykit’s head. “Alderpaw, come and check whether she has a fever.”
Alderpaw squeezed past Fernsong again, wishing the tom would give them more room.
As though reading his mind, Briarlight called from her nest. “Come over here, Fernsong, and let them examine her properly.”
Distractedly Fernsong padded to her side. “I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“She’s a kit with bellyache,” Jayfeather grunted. “She’ll be fine.”
“But it hurts,” Honeykit whimpered as Alderpaw sniffed the top of her head.
Jayfeather ignored her. “So?” he quizzed Alderpaw. “Does she have a fever?”
“No.” Alderpaw sniffed again, feeling the warmth of her fur. Was it normal? Was he right? Perhaps she did have a fever and he was being mouse-brained.
“Good.” Jayfeather mewed. “A bellyache without a fever means that she probably ate something that disagreed with her, or too much of something she liked.” He ran his paw over Honeykit’s belly. “What have you eaten today?”
“I shared a rabbit with Leafkit and Larkkit,” Honeykit told him.
“Did Twigkit eat any?” Alderpaw asked. What if she had the same bellyache and was afraid to bother anyone?
“She had a vole.”
Jayfeather huffed. “Stop fretting about Twigkit and concentrate on the patient,” he snapped to Alderpaw. “Feel her belly. Is it swollen?”
Alderpaw touched his paw to the kit’s round flank, wondering if the tightness there was normal. “It feels a bit swollen?” he guessed hesitantly.
Jayfeather’s ears twitched irritably. “Yes. How should we treat her bellyache?”
Alderpaw’s thoughts froze. He felt Briarlight and Fernsong’s eyes on him. Honeykit blinked at him hopefully, pain flashing in her green eyes.
Jayfeather’s blind stare was burning into his pelt. “Well?”
Alderpaw wished again that Jayfeather were less cranky. I’d remember more if he didn’t make me so nervous. “Chervil,” he blurted.
“Good.” Jayfeather sounded satisfied. “Fetch some.”
“Will it help?” Honeykit asked eagerly.
“Of course it will,” Jayfeather told her.
Alderpaw reached into the crack at the back of the den. It was well stocked. In the half-moon since he’d taken Twigkit to meet her sister, he and Leafpool had gathered all the herbs they could find. Each morning brought heavier dew and a colder chill in the air. It wouldn’t be long before the first frost would scorch the precious leaves they’d need through the long days of leaf-bare. His paw tips touched the soft leaves of the chervil bundle, and he hauled it out.
He began to untangle a few sprigs, his thoughts wandering to the morning he’d gathered it. The orange sun had shimmered above the horizon, its pale warmth hardly chasing the chill from his pelt. The forest had smelled heady. The scent of wilting ferns and decaying leaves had filled his nose.
“Hurry up!” Jayfeather’s tail flicked impatiently. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You’ve been distracted ever since Squirrelflight returned.”
Squirrelflight. Alderpaw looked up in surprise. He hadn’t realized his concerns about what his mother hadn’t found were so obvious.
“Alderpaw!” Jayfeather’s sharp mew jerked him back to the present. The medicine cat’s eats were pricked toward him. “What in StarClan are you doing?”
“I’m ripping up leaves for Honeykit.” Alderpaw stared at him, confused. “Chervil is for bellyaches.”
“The roots, not the leaves.” Jayfeather snatched the bundle of chervil away and snapped off a root. He rolled it toward Honeykit. “Eat this.”
Honeykit looked at it nervously. “What does it taste like?”
“It doesn’t matter what it tastes like,” Jayfeather snapped. “It will make your bellyache go away.”
Fur ruffled, Honeykit picked up the root between her teeth and began to chew. Alderpaw felt a wave of sympathy as she screwed up her face at the acrid tang. But she kept chewing, peeking at Jayfeather as though she was scared of what he might say if she stopped. At last she swallowed.
“Well done.” Alderpaw hurried to her side and ran his tail along her spine. “You’ll feel better in no time.”
Paw steps pattered outside, and the brambles swished. Twigkit burst through, a mouse dangling from her jaws.
Jayfeather frowned as the kit hurried across the medicine den and dropped the mouse beside Briarlight’s nest. “I brought you prey.”
Briarlight purred. “Thank you. But you didn’t need to. You know I can get to the fresh-kill pile by myself.”
“I know,” Twigkit squeaked happily. “But the hunting patrol just got back. It’s still warm.”
Fernsong sniffed. “That reminds me. Ivypool is waiting for me.” He blinked at Honeykit. “Are you feeling better?”
Honeykit was washing her paws, licking them fiercely as though trying to clean the taste of the chervil from her tongue. She paused and looked at Fernsong. Then she burped.
“Yes, I think so.”
Twigkit bounded toward her. “Larkkit and Leafkit are going to explore the ferns behind the fallen birch. They said you should hurry up.” She looked hopefully at Honeykit, who was three moons older and nearly twice as big as Twigkit. “Can I come too?”
“It’s not a game for kits. We’re going to practice hunting,” Honeykit told her. “Leafkit caught a frog there yesterday. If you come, you’ll frighten the prey away.”
“No I won’t!” Twigkit’s eyes rounded with indignation.
Alderpaw felt a surge of sympathy. “I’m sure she’ll be quiet, Honeykit.”
Jayfeather snorted. “Twigkit’s never quiet, and she’s always getting under some cat’s paws.”
“That’s not true!” Twigkit glared at him. “I’m very helpful.”
As she defended herself, the brambles rustled at the den entrance. Ivypool padded in. “Are you ready to hunt, Fernsong?”
Fernsong blinked at her, his eyes shining. “Yes,” he meowed happily.
“Great.” Jayfeather began to sweep the sprigs of chervil together with sharp jabs of his paws. Alderpaw could see irritation rippling though his pelt. “Go hunting. And take these kits out of the den with you.”
“Twigkit is not coming with me!” Honeykit objected. “She’s too noisy. You always say that, Jayfeather.”
Twigkit’s pelt spiked with indignation, but the blind medicine cat simply looked away.
Briarlight heaved herself onto her front paws. “Come with me, Twigkit,” she meowed. “We can take this mouse outside and choose some prey for you.”
Fernsong stood aside as Briarlight hauled herself out of her nest and began to drag her limp hind legs toward the den entrance.
Alderpaw called after Twigkit as she followed. “Perhaps you can come back and help us later.”
“No!” Jayfeather glared at him, his blind blue gaze flashing. “We have work to do.”
Alderpaw flexed his claws, angry at the medicine cat, as Twigkit shot Jayfeather a resentful look and followed Briarlight from the den.
Ivypool glanced sympathetically at Alderpaw. “Come on, Fernsong. The prey won’t catch itself, and I’ve promised Graystripe I’ll find him a shrew.”
Alderpaw hardly heard her. He was fuming. As the two warriors left, he turned on the medicine cat, too furious to tiptoe around him this time. “You don’t have to be so mean to Twigkit,” he snapped. “Can’t you see that she doesn’t have anyone to play with?”
Jayfeather froze, his eyes narrowing.
Alderpaw tensed as he saw Jayfeather’s ears flatten. He knew this look too well. But he di
dn’t care. He’d had to say something.
“Don’t tell me how to behave!” Jayfeather hissed. “I already know my herbs. I can cure my Clanmates. You should spend less time worrying about that kit and more time concentrating on your training.”
Frustration jabbed at Alderpaw’s belly. Why hadn’t he remembered the root was for bellyaches, not the leaves? He whisked his tail crossly. He wouldn’t have forgotten if Jayfeather hadn’t been breathing on his tail like an angry fox. “I’ll try harder,” he growled through gritted teeth. “But I’m doing okay, aren’t I? No one else in the Clan doubts me. They value me. After all, it was me who received StarClan’s prophecy.”
“There’s more to being a medicine cat than passing on messages from StarClan,” Jayfeather hissed. “StarClan won’t tell you how to heal a wound or cure a chest infection. You have to learn that yourself. It takes hard work. And it’s the most important thing you can do for your Clan. It may help you save a life one day.”
Jayfeather’s words seared through Alderpaw’s heart. Memories of Sandstorm flashed in his mind. Could he have done more to help her when she got sick? Sandstorm had visited him in a dream and told him her death wasn’t his fault. But what if she was just being kind? Perhaps she hadn’t needed to die.
He was holding back a shudder, remembering how it had felt to wake up beside her stiff, cold body, when paws thundered into camp.
“Bramblestar!” Mousewhisker’s yowl cracked the air.
Jayfeather shot out of the den. Alderpaw raced after, his heart pounding. What had happened?
Mousewhisker and Cloudtail stood in the clearing, their pelts bushed as their Clanmates gathered around them. Sparkpaw left the mouse she’d been eating and hurried closer. Brackenfur and Birchfall leaped to their paws, and Lionblaze, Poppyfrost, and Rosepetal darted from the warriors’ den.
“What’s wrong?” Bramblestar leaped down from the Highledge. Fur spiked along his spine.
“There’s a fight inside our border!” Mousewhisker puffed.
“WindClan!” Cloudtail added, his flanks heaving.
Graystripe leaped to his paws, ears flat. “An invasion?”
“No!” Mousewhisker swung his muzzle toward the elder. “WindClan cats are fighting rogues.”