by Erin Hunter
“I’m sure StarClan just wants the codebreakers to acknowledge what they’ve done,” Shadowsight mewed, hoping he was right. “I can’t believe that StarClan would want to hurt any cat.”
“It’s not StarClan I’m worried about,” Tigerstar mewed darkly. “You don’t know what Bramblestar is like. He thinks he can use this to make ThunderClan stronger and the other Clans weaker. He’ll hurt us if he gets the chance.” He leaned closer to Shadowsight, fear flashing in his eyes. “You said it yourself—I don’t want to risk Dovewing’s safety, and I know you don’t either. We both love her too much.”
A chill ran along Shadowsight’s spine. Was Tigerstar right? Even if he is, can I risk the safety of all the Clans just to save one cat I love? He blinked back at his father. “But—”
Tigerstar interrupted. “We have no choice,” he meowed darkly. “This has to remain between you and me.”
Shadowsight watched his father stalk away and disappear into his den. His belly felt suddenly hollow. He understood why Tigerstar wanted to protect Dovewing. He wanted to protect her too. Bramblestar had seemed far too eager to accuse cats he believed were codebreakers. There had been little sympathy in the ThunderClan leader’s call to expose them. What if he did want to exploit StarClan’s silence to impose ThunderClan’s authority over the rest of the Clans? But StarClan sent me the vision. Shadowsight couldn’t ignore the feeling that his ancestors wanted him to share it.
His ears pricked. A panicked yowl rang outside camp. “Shadowsight!” He recognized Lightleap’s mew. Pelt spiking with alarm, Shadowsight raced for the camp entrance.
Lightleap was pushing her way through with Flaxfoot. Snowbird limped between them.
The white she-cat’s cat face was twisted with pain. She held her forepaw off the ground, and Shadowsight could see at once that it was badly twisted.
“She slipped.” Lightleap pushed past him as she helped Snowbird toward the medicine den.
Puddleshine hurried out, his eyes round with concern. “What happened?”
“Snowbird hurt her paw.” Shadowsight padded beside his sister, peering past her to see Snowbird’s paw. It hung limply, pointing the wrong way. It must be broken.
“She slipped as we were jumping over a log,” Flaxfoot told him. “She landed badly.”
Snowbird closed her eyes and let out a long, agonized breath.
“I’ll get some comfrey and poppy seeds.” Puddleshine ducked back into the medicine den, and Shadowsight followed as Flaxfoot and Lightleap helped Snowbird inside behind him.
Shadowsight hurried past them and quickly piled the remaining moss into the nearly finished nest. He pressed it down quickly. It would have to do for now. “Lay her here,” he told Lightleap.
Lightleap and Flaxfoot helped Snowbird to the nest and let her slump gently onto the moss. She grunted as she slid down.
Puddleshine padded to the nest, a wad of comfrey leaves between his jaws. He dropped and unrolled them to reveal a scattering of poppy seeds in the middle. After dabbing the seeds with his pad, he offered them to Snowbird. She licked them from his paw and lay back, her eyes glittering with pain. Puddleshine nudged Lightleap toward the entrance. “Go and finish your hunting,” he told the brown tabby she-cat. “We’ll take care of Snowbird.”
“But I want to see that she’s okay.” Lightleap pricked her ears.
Puddleshine nosed Flaxfoot after her. “If you want to help”—he steered them toward the entrance—“go find four smooth, straight sticks we can use as a splint.”
“Can’t we wait here to see if her paw will be okay?” Lightleap looked pleadingly at Shadowsight.
“I’ll come and find you when we’ve finished treating her,” he promised. “I’ll let you know how she’s doing then.”
“We need those sticks,” Puddleshine told the two young warriors as he ran a gentle paw over Snowbird’s leg.
As Lightleap and Flaxfoot trailed reluctantly from the den, Shadowsight padded to Puddleshine’s side. “Is it broken?” he asked softly.
Puddleshine nodded, avoiding Snowbird’s gaze.
The white she-cat blinked at Shadowsight. “Can you fix it?”
It looked like a nasty break. Shadowsight glanced hopefully at Puddleshine.
Puddleshine began to wrap comfrey around Snowbird’s paw. “The splints will help straighten it, but I don’t want to set the bone until the poppy seeds have started working.” He looked evenly at Snowbird. “I’m afraid it will hurt.”
“I don’t care.” Snowbird lifted her muzzle defiantly. “Just fix it. I don’t want to have a limp.”
Shadowsight caught Puddleshine’s eye. He saw darkness in the medicine cat’s gaze. Would Snowbird’s paw fully heal? Worry settled around his heart. Snowbird was a brave and loyal warrior. How could StarClan have let this happen to her?
Shadowsight hurried through the forest in search of Lightleap and Flaxfoot. They hadn’t returned with the sticks yet. Snowbird was sleeping in the medicine den, her paw wrapped in thick layers of comfrey. He tasted the air, picking up Lightleap’s trail. Flaxfoot’s scent mingled with it. He followed the warriors’ trail through the woods, where melting snow was still piled between roots and heaped on branches, dripping as the thaw set in for good. In a few days, the snow would be gone. Perhaps he’d feel less worried when newleaf was here. There’d be as much prey for ShadowClan as for the other Clans, and, with a full belly again, he’d feel better. His conversation with Tigerstar still nagged at his thoughts. Perhaps his father was right and he should keep the secret of the codebreakers to himself. Everything might work itself out. StarClan would return soon. After all, StarClan had always helped in the past. Why would it stop now?
He paused and scanned the trees. There was no sign of Lightleap and Flaxfoot here. Had the two warriors found the sticks and headed back to camp? He turned and followed the scent trail back the way he’d come, wondering why he hadn’t seen them. The trail veered and he quickened his step. A creak overhead made him look up. Above him, a heap of snow slithered from a branch and plummeted down. It hit him with a thud and engulfed him, knocking him off his paws. He struggled up and burst out of the drift, his eyes and ears filled with snow. Clambering onto the top of the pile, he shook out his fur and rubbed the snow from his face with a paw. Of all the trees in the forest, why did he have to be walking under this one? He glanced up indignantly, questions flashing in his mind. Why me? Why now? Why did ShadowClan have less prey than the other Clans? Why had Snowbird hurt her paw so badly?
His pelt pricked uneasily. Was StarClan trying to tell him something? He’d been hoping all day that they’d send him a sign. Perhaps this was it. If they didn’t want to speak to the Clan through the Moonpool, there were other ways to communicate. Shadowsight felt suddenly cold, and not just because the melting snow was seeping into his pelt. He hurried toward camp. The sticks could wait. He wanted to check on Snowbird. What if StarClan thought he hadn’t understood their message? Could they make her injury worse? I can’t believe that StarClan would want to hurt any cat. As he remembered what he’d told his father, doubt tugged in his belly. Perhaps StarClan would let one cat suffer if it helped all the rest. Was this their way of telling him that they wanted him to share his vision?
His heart quickened as he neared camp. Anxious mews sounded from beyond the bramble wall. Puddleshine was issuing orders. “Take him to the medicine den! Fetch cobwebs!” Shadowsight tasted the air, panic flashing beneath his pelt as its iron tang touched his tongue. Blood! He raced into camp.
As he burst from the entrance, he saw Stonewing, Antfur, and Scorchfur limping toward the medicine den. Dovewing was with them, tufts of fur sticking out of her pelt.
“What happened?” He hurried toward them. Had foxes found the patrol? Had another Clan invaded? His pelt spiked with alarm. “Were you attacked?”
Dovewing turned to meet him, her eyes wide. “A branch fell.” She was breathing rapidly. “It hit Antfur and Scorchfur.”
“Are you hurt?” Sha
dowsight scanned his mother’s pelt frantically. Despite the tufts of fur, she didn’t look too badly injured, although one ear was torn.
“I’m okay,” she told him. “Antfur got the worst of it.” She glanced toward the small brown-and-black tom. His eyes were glazed as Stonewing and Puddleshine guided him into the medicine den. “He was knocked unconscious. We had to carry him back.”
“And the others?” Shadowsight blinked at Scorchfur. The dark gray tom’s pelt was ragged as he limped after his Clanmates as though every paw step hurt.
“Scorchfur is badly bruised,” Dovewing told him. “I don’t think any bones are broken, though. Stonewing’s tail got trapped. We had to scoop out the earth underneath the branch to get him free.”
As Dovewing’s green eyes clouded with shock, Tigerstar padded from his den. He blinked as he saw Dovewing, his pelt bushing. “What hurt you?” He raced across the clearing, scrambling to a halt beside her and sniffing her pelt anxiously.
“A falling branch.” Dovewing nodded toward the medicine-den entrance. “Antfur’s been hurt, and Scorchfur. You’d better take a look.”
Tigerstar stared at her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded shakily. “I just want to go to our den and rest.”
“Of course.” He guided her away. “I’ll look in on the others once I’ve made sure you’re comfortable.” He looked at Shadowsight. “Will you take care of them while I see to your mother?”
“Of course.” Shadowsight gave his mother an anxious glance.
“I’ll be okay,” Dovewing reassured him. “I just need to rest. Go help Puddleshine.”
Nodding, Shadowsight ducked into the medicine den. Snowbird was still asleep. Scorchfur lay in one of the old nests, his eyes closed, but breathing steadily. Stonewing was gingerly licking his battered tail. Puddleshine leaned into a nest at the far end of the den where Antfur sat up straight, staring blankly ahead.
“What’s wrong with him?” Shadowsight hurried to his nest.
“No broken bones,” Puddleshine told him without taking his eyes off Antfur. “But the branch caught him on the head.”
There was a gash behind his ear, not that Antfur seemed to notice. He glanced strangely at Shadowsight. “Are you one of those forest cats?” He looked confused for a moment, then blinked and looked away. “I need to scavenge,” he mewed to no cat in particular. “There are hungry cats here. I know where the scrapcans are.”
Shadowsight frowned as he recognized the words from when he was a young kit. “He thinks he’s back in the city,” he whispered to Puddleshine.
“He’s dazed.” Puddleshine looked uneasily at the tom. “Rest might help.”
Antfur tried to step out of the nest. “Let’s go scavenging.”
“We can scavenge later.” Puddleshine nudged him back. “You have to rest now.”
“Why is the den spinning so fast?” Antfur wobbled and collapsed into the bracken.
“I’ll fetch some marigold,” Shadowsight mewed. “We can treat the gash, at least.” He turned away, fear opening like a bottomless pit in his belly. Another accident? On the same day? As he rummaged for marigold in the herb store, his thoughts whirled. StarClan must be trying to send him a message. What do they want? he thought desperately.
But he knew. His pelt prickled along his spine. As he took the marigold back to Antfur’s nest, Tigerstar padded into the den.
“How are they?” he asked Shadowsight as he glanced from nest to nest.
“We don’t know yet.” Shadowsight laid the dried marigold petals beside the nest.
Tigerstar padded to Scorchfur’s nest. “How did this happen?”
Scorchfur blinked at him, his pelt ruffled. “We were hunting and a branch just snapped above us.” He looked puzzled. “It wasn’t rotten,” he mewed. “There was no reason why it should have fallen.”
Shadowsight felt sick. It must be StarClan. He couldn’t keep this secret anymore. What if Tigerstar was wrong?
He had to ask another cat for advice. He glanced at Puddleshine. “Can you manage while I check on Dovewing? I want to put some marigold on her torn ear.”
“Okay.” Puddleshine nodded. “But don’t be long.”
Shadowsight grabbed a mouthful of marigold petals and hurried to the entrance. Treating his mother’s ear wasn’t the only reason he wanted to see her. She could advise him. He crossed the clearing and ducked into her den. Dovewing lay in her nest, her eyes half-closed.
Shadowsight padded forward and dropped the marigold beside her. “How are you doing?”
She blinked at him drowsily. “Just tired,” she told him. “How are the others?”
“Antfur’s a bit confused.” He didn’t tell her that the tom didn’t even know where he was. “Scorchfur will be fine with some rest.”
“Good.” Dovewing let her eyes close again.
Shadowsight took a few petals and chewed them into a pulp. He leaned into the nest and began gently to lap the ointment onto the torn edges of Dovewing’s ear. She flinched but said nothing. When he’d finished, he sat back and looked at her. “What would you do if you had a secret that might help a lot of cats, but might hurt a few if you told it?”
Dovewing tipped her head to one side and looked at him thoughtfully. “If it were me,” she mewed softly, “I’d tell the truth.” She held his gaze, and Shadowsight wondered for a moment if she was going to ask him why he wanted to know. But she didn’t. Instead she curled deeper into her nest. “You can never go wrong by telling the truth.”
Shadowsight’s pelt prickled uneasily. She was right. He had to tell the truth. The other medicine cats should know about the codebreakers. But how could he risk his mother’s safety? His heart ached as he watched Dovewing close her eyes once more. She had no idea that telling the truth might mean trouble for her. He just hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as Tigerstar feared.
Chapter 7
Rootpaw opened his eyes. Morning sunshine streamed through the woven branches of the apprentices’ den. He lifted his head, alarm jabbing his belly as he saw that Needlepaw’s and Wrenpaw’s nests were already empty. I’m late. He scrambled up. Where was Dewspring? Lately his mentor had been waking him each morning, sticking his head into the apprentices’ den just after dawn to hurry Rootpaw out of his nest. Needlepaw and Wrenpaw had teased Rootpaw about his new habit of oversleeping, telling him that leaf-bare hibernation was over, but Rootpaw ignored them. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t been getting to sleep until close to dawn, worried that Bramblestar’s ghost might be lurking nearby.
In the two days since the Gathering, Rootpaw hadn’t had the chance to talk with the medicine cats. The ghost had been appearing more regularly, hanging around the edges of the camp, trying desperately to catch Rootpaw’s eye. Rootpaw had steadfastly ignored it, but that hadn’t driven it away. Last night it had approached him while he’d been eating a thrush beside Needlepaw. Pressing its muzzle close to Rootpaw’s ear, it had demanded to be heard.
“You can see me!” it had growled. “Stop pretending you can’t. I need help!”
Rootpaw had kept his eyes on his thrush. Go away! Did the ghost really expect him to answer when he was surrounded by his Clanmates? They’d think he was crazy. He’d carried on eating, pretending he couldn’t hear, but the ghost kept pestering.
“I need to find out what’s going on,” it had pressed. “Some cat addressed the Gathering pretending to be me! Are there two of me now? Is StarClan going to make a new one of me every time I die?”
Why is it just me who can see this ghost? Rootpaw’s pelt had prickled irritably along his spine. I’m a warrior apprentice, not a medicine cat. Go bother some other cat! he’d wanted to yowl at the ghost, but Needlepaw was already glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
“You’re being weird again,” she’d mewed.
Rootpaw had shifted self-consciously. “How?”
“Your pelt keeps prickling, and you get this look.” She demonstrated, widening her eyes and glancing around furtively
. “Like you’re in trouble and you’re about to be found out.”
“You’re imagining it.” He’d tried to wave Bramblestar’s ghost away with his tail.
Needlepaw had looked at him for a moment longer, then retuned to her shrew.
Now, as birds sang their morning chorus, Rootpaw glanced around the den. The ghost wasn’t here. Good. He hurried outside. Bright sunshine sparkled on the dewy clearing while his Clanmates stretched and chatted, their breath billowing in the damp air. Rootpaw scanned the camp for his mentor.
“Are you looking for Dewspring?” Hawkwing called to him from beside the prey pile.
“I’m supposed to meet him for training,” Rootpaw told him.
“He’s in the medicine den.” Hawkwing nodded toward the dogwood. “He’s strained a paw.”
Rootpaw nodded his thanks to the SkyClan deputy and wandered to the bush where warriors had hollowed out a shallow dip to form a wide, shady den. Anxiety bristled through his fur, and it wasn’t just that he was worried Dewspring might be badly hurt. But this might also be his chance to ask a medicine cat about the ghost.
He ducked inside and saw his mentor lying beside a nest. Fidgetflake had swathed his paw in comfrey and was dripping water from a ball of moss onto the dressing, while Frecklewish sorted herbs at the back of the den.
Dewspring looked up as Rootpaw padded in. “Don’t worry,” he told him before he could speak. “I just landed badly while we were hunting yesterday. I thought the pain would ease after a night’s sleep, but it swelled instead.”
Rootpaw padded to his side. “Will it be okay?”
“I hope so.” Dewspring glanced at Fidgetflake.
The medicine cat blinked back. “If you rest it today, it’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
“Rootpaw has his assessment soon,” Dewspring told Fidgetflake. “He won’t want to miss any training.”
“I could go out with Wrenpaw or Needlepaw today,” Rootpaw offered.
“They left at dawn,” Dewspring told him. “They’re hunting on the lakeshore.”