by Erin Hunter
Bramblestar padded over to the ginger she-cat and pressed his muzzle against her shoulder. “No cat is asking you to retire,” he assured her. “I just want you to be as fit as possible for leaf-bare. And if you’re keeping the other cats awake, you need to think about them as well.”
Sandstorm lifted her head. “I’ll ask the medicine cats for some honey.” She sniffed. “I’ll be fine. And why don’t I sleep in the apprentices’ den, since that’s empty? That way I won’t disturb anyone.”
Purdy’s shoulders slumped and Dovewing wondered if she should offer to sleep in Mousefur’s old nest beside him. He must be feeling cold on his own, now that the frost had taken hold. Before she could say anything, Berrynose stepped forward.
“The warriors’ den is kind of cramped,” he mewed to Bramblestar. “Poppyfrost and I would be happy to sleep in with Purdy, if he’ll have us.”
The old tabby cat’s eyes lit up. “Glad to give you room,” he meowed. “I’d better go and sort out some nests.” He bustled off, his tail straight up.
“That was kind of Berrynose and Poppyfrost,” Dovewing murmured to Ivypool, who was standing beside her.
Her sister narrowed her eyes. “Do you think so? Or are they just desperate to get away from those ferocious Dark Forest cats who sleep too close to them?”
Dovewing stared at her in shock. “But it’s been almost a whole moon since you swore your new oath! Surely you’ve been forgiven by now?”
“Not by some cats,” Ivypool growled. “Haven’t you seen how Dustpelt would rather wait until the fresh-kill pile has been stripped of all the best prey, rather than go up at the same time as one of us?” She padded away, her tail leaving a tiny line in the frostbitten grass.
“We’ll sleep in the elders’ den too,” piped up Cherrypaw, nodding to her brother, Molepaw.
That makes sense, since Poppyfrost and Berrynose are their mother and father, Dovewing thought. But then she saw Molepaw glare at Birchfall, and her belly flipped over. Those cats had done nothing but serve their Clan loyally since the Great Battle. How could there be anything left to forget?
“That’s fine,” meowed Squirrelflight to the young cats. “I’ll join Sandstorm in the apprentices’ den, and that way there will be more room for the other warriors while the new den is being built.” When Sandstorm started to protest, Squirrelflight blinked affectionately at her mother. “I’ll be there whether you like it or not,” she purred. “It’s too cold for you to sleep alone.”
There was a flurry of activity as the cats scattered to prepare new nests. Dovewing stayed where she was, as if her paws had frozen to the grass. Her ears were buzzing again and shadows clustered at the edges of her mind, making her heart beat faster. Dividing the warriors into separate dens felt like a terrible omen; the Clan was splitting apart, in spite of everything they had survived together. Had the Great Battle been forgotten already? Or were her Clanmates determined only to remember whose loyalty had been questioned, without recalling the courage every cat showed to drive out the Dark Forest attackers?
“Dovewing? Are you all right?” Whitewing was peering at her with a concerned look in her eyes.
Dovewing shook herself, sending drops of mist flying from her pelt. “I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you help me fetch some moss?” Whitewing suggested. “It feels like ages since I spent any time with you!”
They squeezed through the new barrier of thorns, which seemed denser and pricklier than before, and trotted down the slope toward the lake. Their route to the best moss took them past the place where the dead cats had been buried and Dovewing slowed down to look at the peaceful mounds of soil, each one silvered with a thin coating of ice. “Can you see what is happening to us?” she whispered. “Do you feel as if you died for nothing?”
“Oh little one, you don’t really think that, do you?” mewed Whitewing.
Dovewing jumped; she hadn’t heard her mother come up. Of course I didn’t hear! I can’t hear anything! She took a deep breath. “It feels as if everything has gotten worse since the Great Battle,” she confessed. “The warriors who were involved with the Dark Forest are being treated worse than rogues, and no one seems to remember that the cats lying here gave their lives so that we could win the battle.” She couldn’t bring herself to talk about her senses; that was something she had to deal with alone.
Whitewing rested her tail on Dovewing’s spine. “All battles leave deep wounds, whether you can see them or not. And wounds take time to heal. You know that, Dovewing. Don’t give up hope.” She turned and headed down toward the lake, which was shining gray and still through the trunks.
Dovewing watched her walk away. She thought of Foxleap, dying from infection in the medicine den. But some wounds never heal, whatever you do.
It was the night of the Gathering. A huge white moon hung above the hollow, turning the cats to silver and casting sharp-edged shadows across the ground. This would be the first Gathering since the Great Battle, the first chance to see how the Clans they had fought alongside were faring, and yet the mood among the ThunderClan cats was somber, even reluctant. Berrynose was muttering to Toadstep, close enough for Dovewing to hear.
“I can’t believe Bramblestar wants to take Blossomfall and Thornclaw with us. Does he want to draw attention to the traitors in our own Clan?”
Toadstep flicked his thick black-and-white tail. “The other Clans managed to kill most of their traitors,” he hissed back. “Maybe we should have done the same!”
Dovewing bounded forward. “And maybe you should realize that your Clanmates did nothing wrong when it came to fighting our enemies!” she spat.
“Dovewing! Stop! What’s going on?” Squirrelflight trotted over, her fur fluffed up in alarm.
Dovewing twitched her ears, reluctant to let Toadstep and Berrynose think she was about to go running to the deputy with her complaint.
“Just a difference of opinion,” Berrynose meowed. He glanced at Dovewing. “Some cats seem to believe we aren’t allowed to think for ourselves.”
Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes. “See that full moon up there? This is the night of the truce—and that goes for Clanmates as well as the other Clans. Come on, or we’ll be late.” She trotted to the entrance where Bramblestar was waiting with the rest of the Gathering patrol.
Dovewing glared at Berrynose and Toadstep, then followed the deputy. Blossomfall was waiting for her, looking troubled. “I saw what happened,” the tortoiseshell-and-white warrior mewed. “Don’t try to fight this battle for us. It will take time to prove our loyalty, that’s all.”
“It shouldn’t be a battle!” Dovewing growled. “You swore the oath, and you did nothing to harm us during the Great Battle!”
“The warrior code means everything,” Blossomfall reminded her. “And that’s just as it should be.”
They joined the other cats squeezing through the new barrier of thorns, wincing as tufts of fur got left behind on the prickles. “If this barrier doesn’t soften up soon, we’re all going to be bald!” muttered Graystripe.
As the cats headed down through the trees toward the shore, Dovewing trotted to catch up with Bumblestripe. They’d basked together in an unexpected burst of sunshine earlier that day, and she was feeling warm and affectionate toward him. “Wait for me!” she puffed.
The big gray-and-black tom paused and looked back at her. “Come on, little legs!” he teased.
They reached the shore with the others and turned along the stony beach. The pebbles gleamed in the moonlight, and tiny waves lapped beside them. Dovewing cast her hearing out the way she used to on these nights, listening for the preparations for departure in each of the other Clans. Were they feeling apprehensive about this Gathering, too? But her ears were full of the sound of paws crunching over stones and water washing on the shore.
Dovewing frowned and concentrated harder. I must be able to hear something! My senses have had time to recover from the battle! I have to make Lionblaze and Jayfeather talk to me about their powers. Wh
at if we’re all losing them? Suddenly her paw was caught underneath a branch and she lurched forward. She would have fallen flat on her face if Bumblestripe hadn’t shoved his shoulder underneath her to boost her back onto her feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” Dovewing snapped. “I didn’t see that branch in the shadows, that’s all.” She noticed his ears flatten with hurt and felt a stab of guilt. Even if she couldn’t tell him what was going on, he didn’t deserve to be treated unkindly. “Thanks for catching me!” she purred. “I’d have looked dumber than a sheep if I’d landed on my muzzle!”
“I’ll always be here to catch you,” Bumblestripe murmured. He nuzzled the back of her head before stepping away and they walked on in silence, close enough for their fur to brush together.
CHAPTER 7
The first thing Dovewing noticed when she reached the clearing on the island was that almost all the former Dark Forest cats were there. She wondered if it was because each leader wanted to prove that their Clan was united and loyal once more. She also thought that the other Clans seemed less hostile toward their traitorous Clanmates, but then, ThunderClan had so many more that had survived the battle. Perhaps it was easier to forgive one cat rather than several.
After spotting Breezepelt and Ratscar, Dovewing found herself searching for a familiar dark tabby pelt among the ShadowClan cats. As she watched, the warriors shifted to make room for Blackstar, who was heading for the leaders’ tree, revealing Tigerheart deep in conversation with Shrewfoot. The pretty gray cat was gazing up at him as if he was telling her the greatest secret. Dovewing pushed down the pang of jealousy that twisted her belly. It was good that Tigerheart had been forgiven by his Clanmates. Any connection they had once shared was over forever. She had Bumblestripe now.
As if he had heard her thoughts, the gray-and-black tom joined her. “Do you mind if we sit with Blossomfall?” he meowed. “I don’t want her left on her own.”
“Of course,” Dovewing replied, feeling a rush of fondness for him. They padded over to fill the gap left beside Blossomfall and Thornclaw. Dovewing ended up next to Toadstep, and she tried not to hiss at him when he curled his lip at her.
Mistystar spoke first, her gray fur tipped with silver in a beam of moonlight. “RiverClan is well and strong after a moon of hard work. All my warriors are united in making the Clan secure and full-fed for leaf-bare, and all the seasons to come. I am pleased to report that Petalfur is expecting kits with Mallownose.” She paused to glance fondly at the gray-and-white queen, who preened. “A large pike was preying on the smaller fish on our side of the lake, but Lakeheart had the brilliant idea of placing stones in the shallow water to create an area the pike couldn’t enter. Thanks to this, we have protected many of the smaller fish to stock our fresh-kill pile.” She dipped her head. “May StarClan light your path, all of you.”
As she sat back down on the branch, Blackstar rose unsteadily to his paws. His white pelt was so pale, he looked as if he was part of StarClan already. “ShadowClan is as strong as it ever was,” he wheezed, so quietly the listening cats leaned forward to hear. “We have rebuilt our dens and secured our borders. Our fresh-kill pile is full and we do not fear the leaf-bare ahead.” His wide eyes suggested otherwise, and Dovewing winced as he fought for breath. “We were briefly troubled by a fox on our topmost border but my brave warriors drove it out.” He sat down abruptly, his flanks heaving.
Bramblestar spoke next, then Onestar. Their speeches were similarly short and vague, with little news beyond the restoration of dens and borders, and reports of well-stocked fresh-kill piles. None of the leaders mentioned the Great Battle or the recent alliance between the four Clans, as if history had never happened. Dovewing narrowed her eyes. Will everything be forgotten so soon? What about the cats we lost? Shouldn’t we honor their memory somehow, all of us together?
But the leaders were jumping down from the tree—or in Blackstar’s case, lowering himself gently to the ground—and the cats in the clearing were already standing up, eager to leave. There would be no lingering tonight, no sharing of tongues and gossip after the serious business was done. Onestar led his warriors away first, swiftly followed by Mistystar. Bramblestar summoned ThunderClan with a flick of his tail and Dovewing found herself pressed among her Clanmates as they trotted over the tree-bridge and jumped down onto the marshy shore.
“That was weird,” Lionblaze commented when they were crunching along the pebbles below the moor. “Any cat would think the most exciting thing that happened in the last moon was RiverClan losing some fish to a pike!”
Beside him, Cinderheart looked thoughtful. “Perhaps that’s the best way to recover, to return to the way things were before as quickly as we can. We won the Great Battle, so nothing needs to change.”
Bumblestripe twitched his ears. “Really? Do you honestly think the Great Battle didn’t change anything? Sometimes I think it has changed everything.”
Dovewing agreed with him. She watched him look sadly at his sister, walking a little way ahead with Thornclaw. Would ThunderClan be divided forever because of the Dark Forest?
The sound of coughing drifted through the trees as they climbed the slope to the hollow. Jayfeather trotted ahead, as sure-footed over the moss as if he could see. “Hazeltail, why are you still out here? You should have asked someone else to stand guard.” He sniffed her closely and placed his paw on her side to check her heartbeat.
The gray she-cat looked exhausted and hunched. “I’m okay,” she wheezed. “It’s just a cough.”
“And it’s not being helped by this cold air,” Jayfeather snorted. “Come on, you’re spending the night in the medicine den.” He started to usher her through the thorns. “Bramblestar, you’ll have to put someone else on guard,” he called over his shoulder.
Millie stepped forward. “I’ll do it,” she offered. “I don’t feel tired, and there’s no point waking another warrior for what’s left of the night.”
“Thanks, Millie.” Bramblestar dipped his head toward her. He looked closely at the rest of the cats. “Is anyone else feeling ill? Better to start getting treated now rather than wait until you’re really sick.”
“Toadstep hasn’t eaten much today,” Poppyfrost meowed, shooting a worried glance at the black-and-white tom.
“I wasn’t hungry, that’s all,” he muttered.
Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. “If you don’t feel hungry tomorrow, see Jayfeather, please. Now, let’s get to our nests. Patrols as usual first thing.”
Dovewing waited her turn to wriggle through the barrier. She heard Brightheart hiss to Cloudtail, “Why didn’t you tell Bramblestar you’ve got a sore throat?”
“I’ll see Jayfeather if it gets worse, I promise,” Cloudtail mewed as he ducked into the gap.
Dovewing felt a tremor of worry. First the Dark Forest seemed to have left divisions that would never heal, and now the whole Clan was getting sick! Oh StarClan, help us!
Blinking sleep from her eyes, Dovewing stumbled out of the warriors’ den at sunrise to see Jayfeather leaping confidently down the rocks that led to Highledge. Her heart lurched.
“Is Bramblestar sick?” she called.
Jayfeather stopped beside her and shook his head. “No, he’s fine. I was just letting him know that Hazeltail will be off duties for a while.” As he spoke, Bramblestar emerged from his den and trotted down to the clearing, where he arched his back in a long stretch.
The sound of coughing came from the cave at the foot of the cliffs. Jayfeather looked grim. “I think Hazeltail has greencough. She has a fever, and I don’t like the way her heart is racing.”
There was a gasp behind Dovewing. She turned to see Millie trotting from the entrance, having finished her post on guard. “What about Briarlight? She can’t stay in your den if there’s a cat with greencough in there!” She ran over to the cave. “Briarlight! Come out at once!”
There was a pause, then Briarlight’s dark brown face poked through the bramble
s. “What’s the matter?” she asked sleepily.
“I don’t want you in there if Hazeltail has greencough!” Millie ordered. “We’ll have to find you somewhere else to sleep.”
Briarlight dragged herself out of the den with her strong front legs. As always, Dovewing felt a spasm of sadness as she saw the she-cat’s haunches trailing uselessly behind her. “I wouldn’t mind being somewhere a bit quieter,” Briarlight admitted as she crawled into the clearing. “Poor Hazeltail hasn’t stopped coughing since she arrived!” She stopped to twist and bite an itchy spot on her spine. “Besides, I don’t need to stay in the medicine den now, surely? I’m not ill!”
Leafpool emerged from the cave with a bundle of soiled moss in her jaws. She put it down and looked at Jayfeather. “Briarlight’s right, you know,” she meowed. “We don’t need to watch over her at night anymore.”
Briarlight twisted around to look at Bramblestar, who had finished stretching and was licking his chest fur. “Can I sleep in the warriors’ den, Bramblestar? Please?”
The leader frowned. “I’m not sure there’s room,” he admitted. “It’s still pretty crowded in there.”
By now, other cats had woken and come into the clearing, where they were stretching and arching their backs, ready for the first patrols. Purdy had emerged from his den and was listening as he smoothed his sleep-ruffled fur. “She’s welcome to join us in here,” he called, nodding toward the elder thicket where there were sounds of Berrynose and his family stirring.
Briarlight’s head drooped. It was obvious she wanted to join the warriors in their den.
“Why don’t I join you, Purdy, then Briarlight can have my nest?” Dovewing offered.
Bumblestripe came up to her looking startled. “But I’d miss sleeping next to you!”
“It won’t be for long,” Dovewing told him. “Squirrelflight is planning to build a second den for the warriors, remember?”
“Thanks, Dovewing!” purred Briarlight. “Can I go see my new nest now?” When Dovewing nodded, Briarlight hauled herself to the warriors’ den and disappeared inside, leaving a scuffed trail on the earth.