Poppydawn flashed him a reproachful look. “Sweetpaw’s dead.”
Goosefeather sighed. “When StarClan calls, even the best medicine cat cannot heal.”
Featherwhisker appeared from the nursery. “Goosefeather’s right,” he mewed. “We did all we could.”
“We’re lucky to have you, Featherwhisker,” Dappletail meowed. No cat spoke up for Goosefeather.
With a cold feeling deep inside her fur, Bluefur realized that the Clan seemed to have lost all faith in its old medicine cat. When White-eye had a thorn in her pad, it had been Featherwhisker she’d sought out, and Swiftbreeze now consulted with the apprentice medicine cat about Leopardfoot and her kits whenever she was worried.
Bluefur glanced at Goosefeather. He didn’t seem to have noticed Dappletail’s slanted comment; his eyes were unfocused, as though something else was crowding his thoughts. If no cat trusted Goosefeather anymore, was Bluefur foolish to believe his prophecy?
Dappletail pressed against Poppydawn. “I’ll help you prepare Sweetpaw for the vigil,” she murmured.
Poppydawn blinked. “Yes.” She stood up. “I’ll get rosemary.”
Bluefur turned away. She could not bear to see anther cat prepared for their journey to StarClan. She felt Sunfall’s muzzle brush her shoulder.
“Come with me,” he ordered. “I’m taking the dawn patrol.” He nodded to Lionpaw. “You can come, too.”
Rosepaw stepped forward. “Can I?”
“Of course.” Sunfall brushed his tail along the flank of the grieving apprentice.
“Tawnyspots?” He signaled to Rosepaw’s mentor. “Call Swiftbreeze and join us.”
Bluefur’s paws were heavy as she padded through the tunnel behind the Clan deputy and the rest of the patrol, but she was relieved to leave her mourning Clanmates behind. Once they’d reached the top of the ravine and headed into the forest, Sunfall fell in beside her.
“I know Sweetpaw’s death is sad,” he meowed quietly. “But the Clan must carry on. The borders must be guarded and the fresh-kill pile must remain stocked.”
Bluefur felt heavy inside, as if her belly were filled with stones. But Sunfall was right. She had to protect her Clan, however much pain she was in. The other cats were suffering, too.
The patrol moved slowly through the trees, with Swiftbreeze pressing close to Rosepaw. No one spoke as they neared the border with Sunningrocks. The sun had lifted over the horizon, and its pale light filtered through the trees. Birds were stirring, their calls filling the forest with song. Bluefur wished they’d shut up. Don’t be mouse-brained! she told herself. How are they supposed to know or care that Sweetpaw is dead?
“Wait!” Sunfall’s hiss surprised her, and she froze with one front paw still in the air.
The ThunderClan deputy was sniffing the breeze, the fur lifting along his spine. “RiverClan!”
Bluefur scanned the trees along the edge of the forest and saw Sunningrocks glowing in the dawn light. RiverClan scent was drifting over the border, stronger than before.
“Look!” Swiftbreeze had dropped into a crouch. Her eyes were fixed on a leafy rise, sloping beyond a swath of brambles. “They’ve crossed the border!”
Bluefur bristled when she spotted the tip of a sleek, oily tail, then another. The tang of fish bathed her tongue. Branches swished as a RiverClan patrol moved stealthily through the undergrowth.
“I knew it!” Sunfall growled. Keeping low so that his orange pelt was hidden by ferns, he signaled to Lionpaw. “Go back to the camp and tell Pinestar we’re being invaded! Those RiverClan warriors have deliberately crossed the border. We can’t let them get away with it. Pinestar needs to send a fighting patrol here at once.”
Lionpaw nodded and whipped around. He squeezed past Bluefur and Tawnyspots and pelted back along the trail that led to the ravine.
“Get back!” Sunfall ordered the rest of his patrol, keeping his mew low. He scooted into thick ferns and the patrol followed, crouching among the fronds. Anger raged in Bluefur’s belly. Why should they have to hide in their own territory?
“We’ll attack as soon as the backup patrol gets here,” Sunfall breathed.
The RiverClan patrol was moving more clumsily now that they’d reached the brambles. Bluefur heard one cat curse and imagined the thorns dragging at the thick RiverClan pelts. They weren’t used to this dense scrub, or to forest thorns.
Let it slow them down! she prayed, unsheathing her claws. She tried to peer through the leaves. How many RiverClan warriors were there? Were they heading for the camp? She scowled at the RiverClan stench. “They’re leaving markers!” she growled to Sunfall. “On our territory!”
“They don’t know which way to head,” Swiftbreeze observed.
The RiverClan patrol was struggling through the brambles, heading away from the ravine.
“What’s their plan?” Rosepaw asked.
Sunfall paused, considering the situation. “There aren’t enough of them to attack the camp—and if that’s their aim, they’re going the wrong way, thank StarClan. My guess is that they’re looking for a patrol to attack.”
“But why?” Bluefur struggled to understand what RiverClan could possibly gain by sending so few warriors, and so unprepared, into rival territory.
“They want to prove that this part of the forest is theirs.”
“Never!” Bluefur fought the urge to race out of the bushes and hurl herself at the RiverClan patrol. She knew it would be reckless and pointless. What could she alone do against a whole patrol? But she was supposed to be fire, blazing through the forest! Perhaps she should attack like Thistleclaw had attacked that dog. She closed her eyes and ran through the battle moves Sunfall had taught her.
Sunfall must have sensed her paws shifting restlessly. “We’ll attack as soon as the other patrol gets here,” he promised.
Ferns rustled behind them, and Thrushpelt pushed his way through. “We’ve seen the RiverClan patrol,” he reported, “but they didn’t see us. They’re too busy fighting thorns.”
Sunfall chuckled. “I get the feeling they’re not too comfortable on ThunderClan territory.”
“We should force them to fight where the undergrowth is thickest,” Thrushpelt suggested.
“Won’t that make it harder to attack?” Swiftbreeze questioned.
“Hard for us, but even harder for them,” Sunfall answered. “They’re not used to brambles, and we are.” He glanced at Thrushpelt. “Who did you bring?”
“Stormtail, Thistleclaw, Fuzzypelt, Snowfur, Windflight, and Patchpelt,” Thrushpelt reported. “There’s another patrol waiting at the top of the ravine, in case RiverClan breaks through our line. We didn’t know how many warriors RiverClan had brought.”
Sunfall narrowed his eyes. “We have enough to drive them off.”
Thistleclaw shouldered his way to the front. “We should do more than drive them off,” he growled. “We should give them a battle they won’t forget in a hurry.”
“Once they know we can drive them away, they’ll think twice about invading again,” Sunfall pointed out. He swung his head around to Stormtail. “We’ll split into three patrols. You head one and meet them on the rise up there.” He signaled toward a slope where the RiverClan cats seemed to be heading. “Take Patchpelt and Swiftbreeze. You attack first. We’ll come in from the sides as you drive them back. Windflight?”
The gray tabby warrior lifted his chin. “Yes?”
“Stay here with Fuzzypelt, Thrushpelt, and Thistleclaw. Attack when you hear Stormtail’s signal.” He went on. “I’ll take Bluefur, Snowfur, Rosepaw, and Tawnyspots and attack their other flank. We’ll leave the path to the border clear so they can retreat.”
“We should shred them where they fall, not let them escape,” Thistleclaw hissed.