Snowfur was already at the entrance. “He took the moss inside,” she mewed. Bluefur nosed her way through the prickly entrance and dropped the leaves at Featherwhisker’s paws. “Are these the right ones?”
He nodded. “Well done.”
Bluefur saw Leopardfoot in her nest. Her heart sank. Leopardfoot looked tiny against the moss and bracken, her eyes wild with pain, her pelt matted and smelling of fear.
Swiftbreeze lifted Leopardfoot’s chin with a paw. “Try drinking a little.” She pushed the dripping moss ball closer and Leopardfoot licked at it, then coughed as her body heaved suddenly.
Swiftbreeze pricked her ears. “Are they coming?”
“Nearly,” Featherwhisker soothed. He chewed the leaves into a pulp and dropped them in front of Leopardfoot’s muzzle. “Eat this.” His mew was soft but firm, and Leopardfoot lapped obediently at the pulp, struggling to swallow as her body heaved again.
Bluefur reached forward and pressed her muzzle to Leopardfoot’s head. “You can do it,” she whispered. “You always were the strongest. And just think of the beautiful kits you’ll have! They’ll all be great warriors.”
Leopardfoot blinked at her dully, and Bluefur wondered if she’d even heard. She backed toward the entrance.
“Thank you,” Featherwhisker murmured. Nodding, Bluefur slipped from the den.
Outside, the entire Clan was uneasy. Stormtail, Sunfall, Adderfang, and Tawnyspots paced the clearing, their pelts pricking as though frustrated that they could not fight this battle with Leopardfoot. Larksong and Stonepelt had been joined by Mumblefoot and Weedwhisker, and they huddled beneath Highrock, eyes glowing in the shadows. White-eye pressed against Sparrowpelt while Robinwing and Thrushpelt circled them, glancing every now and then at the darkening sky.
Goosefeather appeared from the gorse tunnel and padded straight to his den. He didn’t even stop to ask how Leopardfoot was. Bluefur pressed back the urge to rake his muzzle with her claws. He’s supposed to be the Clan medicine cat, for StarClan’s sake!
At least Pinestar had got to his paws and was padding among his Clanmates. “We must eat,” he ordered. “Starving ourselves won’t make these kits come any quicker.”
Bluefur scowled at him. These kits! They were his kits. Didn’t he care?
Sunfall nodded and took a pigeon from the fresh-kill pile. Lionpaw picked up a squirrel and carried it awkwardly to the tree stump. Thistlepaw was already eating with Snowfur beside the nettle patch.
Sweetpaw looked up and caught Bluefur’s eye. “Join us,” she called. She was sharing a mouse with Rosepaw.
Bluefur padded gratefully toward the two apprentices. She wasn’t hungry but needed the comfort of sharing food with Clanmates. As she took a bite of mouse, she glanced at the nursery. Come and join us! she begged her unborn Clanmates.
While the Clan shared tongues after the meal, Silverpelt began to glitter overhead. Sunfall yawned and got to his paws. “There will be duties tomorrow…whatever happens tonight.” He glanced at the nursery and padded away to his den. Nodding and sighing, the rest of the Clan cats began to melt away to their nests.
Thrushpelt padded past Bluefur. “You have to sleep, too,” he meowed.
“I will…soon,” Bluefur promised, knowing it would be impossible. How could she sleep, knowing Leopardfoot was suffering?
As Thrushpelt padded away, a tiny wail sounded from the nursery. Bluefur jumped to her paws. A kit?
Goosefeather came hurrying from the medicine den and disappeared into the nursery. He reappeared a moment later. “The first kit has been born!” he called. “A she-cat!”
Heads poked from dens, and murmurs of joy and relief rippled around the camp. Bluefur rushed past Goosefeather and pushed her way into the nursery. “Is Leopardfoot okay?” she demanded.
Swiftbreeze was lapping Leopardfoot’s ears; she looked up, her eyes glowing with hope. Featherwhisker was busy crouched over the young queen, and Bluefur held her breath as another kit plopped out onto the moss. Featherwhisker lapped it and, grasping it by its scruff, dropped it beside its littermate at Leopardfoot’s belly.
“One more to go,” he mewed.
Leopardfoot shuddered as the last kit fell into the nest. “A tom!” Featherwhisker mewed happily. He lapped it and placed it beside the other two.
Swiftbreeze purred as Leopardfoot strained to lap at her three kits. Relief and joy flooded Bluefur, and she backed out of the nursery. The Clan had gathered around Pinestar in the clearing.
“Congratulations!” Adderfang meowed.
“Another battle fought and won,” Sunfall purred.
Goosefeather shouldered past Bluefur and disappeared back into the nursery.
Dappletail raced up to Bluefur. “Have you seen them?”
She nodded. “Two she-cats and a tom.”
“Did you hear that?” Dappletail turned at once to White-eye. “Two she-cats and a tom.”
The news whispered like wind through the Clan, and purrs rose from the clearing.
Goosefeather struggled from the nursery once again and padded across the clearing. “Don’t celebrate too soon. Those kits may not make it through the night.” Shoulders hunched, he disappeared into the shadows of the fern tunnel. His words echoed behind him, sending shivers through the Clan.
Chapter 20
It was still dark when stabbing pains woke Bluefur, clutching her stomach like talons. She staggered to the dirtplace, almost too wrapped in pain to notice the tiny mewling coming from within the nursery. But when she returned, she heard soft voices murmuring and soothing the cries. By the sound of it, Featherwhisker and Swiftbreeze were still with Leopardfoot.
A shadow moved at the edge of the clearing. Rosepaw was creeping out of the apprentices’ den.
“Hey!” Bluefur hissed.
Rosepaw stopped and turned, her eyes flashing in the darkness. Her fur was ruffled, and she looked as wretched as Bluefur felt. “Got to get to the dirtplace,” she croaked.
“Bad belly?” Bluefur asked.
Rosepaw nodded. “Sweetpaw, too.”
It must have been the mouse they’d shared. Bluefur crept back to her nest and settled down. Sleep came, but fitfully. Pain haunted her dreams.
“Get off!” Snowfur pushed her away. “You’ve been kicking me all night!”
“Sorry,” Bluefur groaned. “Bellyache.”
Snowfur sat up and blinked sleepily. “Should I get Goosefeather?”
Bluefur shook her head. Her belly was so cramped and sore, she found herself panting between words. “He’ll be too busy with the kits.”
Snowfur yawned and curled back down in her nest. “Tell me if you change your mind.”
Bluefur lay blinking in the darkness awhile longer, trying not to fidget. Eventually the urge to use the dirtplace again was too much for her. She crawled out of the den and padded across the clearing. Dawn drew a milky haze over the horizon as it began to push back the night sky. The air was clear and cold, refreshing although it made Bluefur shiver. She paused by the nursery, her ears pricked up. A tiny mew shrilled, then another. Thank StarClan! At least two of the kits had survived the night.
Feeling weak, Bluefur returned from the dirtplace, breathing hard as she padded from the tunnel. Was that Lionpaw creeping out of the camp through the gorse? It was early for an apprentice to be heading into the forest alone. She padded after him, stopping when she reached the barrier. Pinestar’s scent was fresh on the prickly branches. He must have been taking Lionpaw out.