“Just a few scratches,” Thrushpelt reported.
“Ottersplash bit me,” Patchpelt complained. “I’m going to smell of fish for days.”
Bluefur stiffened when she noticed Snowfur’s white pelt stained with blood. “Are you okay?” she gasped.
Snowfur looked at the streaks. “It’s not my blood.”
Relieved, Bluefur flicked her tail across Snowfur’s ears.
“They won’t be back in a hurry,” Thistleclaw crowed.
Stormtail was still watching the river, his eyes dark. “They shouldn’t have tried it in the first place,” he snarled. “They already have Sunningrocks.”
“Come on,” Sunfall meowed briskly. “Let’s report back to camp.”
Bluefur followed her sister into the trees. Ears pricked, she overheard Stormtail muttering to Sunfall. “They’ll be back,” he growled. “We lost their respect when we gave up Sunningrocks without a fight.”
“That was Pinestar’s decision,” Sunfall meowed evenly.
“Maybe,” Stormtail hissed, “but he should be around to back it up.”
“Yes, where is Pinestar?” Sunfall meowed, as if he’d only just noticed the Clan leader hadn’t taken part in the battle. “Why didn’t he lead your patrol?”
Stormtail shrugged. “You’d better ask Pinestar that, because no one else in ThunderClan seems to know where he is.”
Bluefur felt the familiar unsettling tingle in her paws. Something was wrong with Pinestar. Something was very wrong indeed.
Chapter 23
“We drove them off,” Sunfall announced to the waiting Clan as soon as the patrol filed into the camp through the gorse tunnel.
Adderfang padded forward. “No other RiverClan activity in the area,” he reported. “We’ve searched thoroughly.”
“Thank you.” Sunfall dipped his head.
Bluefur only half heard the exchange. Her eyes were drawn to Sweetpaw’s small, bony body lying in the center of the clearing. Poppydawn and Dappletail had smoothed her fur and arranged her paws under her, just as the Clan had done with Moonflower. The exhilaration of the battle was instantly swallowed up by grief. Bluefur stood and watched numbly as Rosepaw padded past and crouched beside her sister. Thistleclaw walked stiffly over and gave Sweetpaw a final lick between her ears. “I’ll help bury her after the vigil,” he murmured to Poppydawn.
Featherwhisker padded from the medicine den carrying a bundle of herbs. Goosefeather shambled behind him. Featherwhisker placed the herbs at Goosefeather’s paws. “Will you chew these into a pulp while I check for wounds?” He addressed his mentor gently, as if he were talking to a frail, troubled elder.
Goosefeather was staring at the nursery and didn’t seem to hear him.
Featherwhisker pushed the herbs a little closer. “We’ll need lots of comfrey pulp,” he prompted. He glanced at the returning patrol. “It looks like there were plenty of scratches.”
Goosefeather blinked. “Comfrey?” he echoed.
Featherwhisker nodded, tapping the herbs with his paw. Goosefeather blinked; then, bending down, he began to chew at the leaves. Featherwhisker strolled briskly among the wounded. He inspected Thistleclaw first. “That’s a deep scratch.”
“It’s nothing.” Thistleclaw shrugged. “I don’t feel pain.”
“You’ll feel it if it gets infected.” He turned to Goosefeather. “Did we bring tansy?”
Goosefeather sniffed through the leaves and nodded.
“Go to Goosefeather,” Featherwhisker told Thistleclaw. “Ask him to rub some tansy in your wound.” When Thistleclaw hesitated, Featherwhisker glanced down at Sweetpaw’s body. “You’ll need it treated if you want to be able to help bury your sister.”
Thistleclaw dipped his head and padded over to the medicine cat.
Featherwhisker checked Snowfur. “Go wash in the stream,” he advised. “It smells like RiverClan blood, and licking it off will make you queasy.”
“Yuck. Fish.” Snowfur shuddered and hurried out of the camp.
Bluefur lifted her wrenched claw as Featherwhisker approached and held it out for him to inspect. Featherwhisker wrinkled his nose. “Painful,” he sympathized. “But it’ll heal quickly if you rest it.”
It stung like fury, but Bluefur didn’t want to admit it after Thistleclaw had acted so brave.
“Get comfrey pulp from Goosefeather,” Featherwhisker instructed. “It’ll ease the pain.”
“Thanks.” Bluefur limped to the medicine cat. She wondered if he was thinking about the prophecy, measuring it against her role in the battle. She hadn’t exactly blazed like fire through the forest, but she’d done all right.
Goosefeather eyed her strangely and pushed a wad of pulp toward her.
“Is that comfrey?” Bluefur checked.
“What else would I give you for a wrenched claw?”
How did he know what she needed, when so much else seemed to pass him by these days? Bluefur smeared the ointment onto her claw.
“Pinestar!” Sunfall’s mew made her whip around.
The ThunderClan leader was padding in through the gorse tunnel.
Dappletail and Poppydawn looked up from Sweetpaw’s body. Adderfang lifted his head, and Stormtail narrowed his eyes. The whole Clan fell silent as Sunfall stepped forward, his bloodied ear glistening in the morning sun.
“Where were you, Pinestar?” the ThunderClan deputy asked.
Pinestar didn’t answer at once. “Did you win?”
Sunfall nodded. “We chased those fish-faces back as far as the river. They still have Sunningrocks—that is a battle for another day—but they won’t set foot across the border for a while.”
A growl rumbled in Stormtail’s throat.
“Good,” Pinestar meowed. He padded across the clearing and jumped onto Highrock. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather to hear what I have to tell you!”
Bluefur looked at Rosepaw, puzzled. Shouldn’t Sunfall make his report about the battle first?
Lionpaw padded over to join them, staring at his paws. Was he sulking because he’d missed the battle?
No. Lionpaw didn’t sulk. If he had something he wanted to say, he’d just say it. A shiver ran down Bluefur’s spine. The suspicion she’d felt since she’d caught him chasing butterflies nagged harder. Lionpaw knew something about their leader.
Pinestar gazed down at his Clan. They hadn’t moved, just turned to look curiously at him. Pinestar looked tired, his eyes dull with grief. Bluefur leaned forward, her stomach hollow.
“Cats of ThunderClan,” Pinestar began, and his voice echoed around the silent clearing until his words bounced off the trees and the rocks. “I can no longer be your leader. From now on, I will leave the Clan and live with housefolk in Twolegplace.”
Around the clearing, pelts bristled and the air crackled with tension.
Stormtail curled his lip. “You’re going to be a kittypet?”
Sunfall stared at him in disbelief. “Why?”
Adderfang dug his claws deep into the earth.
“How could you?” Poppydawn burst out, gazing at him wide-eyed from beside her daughter’s body.
Pinestar bowed his head. “I have been honored to serve you this long. The rest of my life will be spent as a kittypet, where I have no battles to fight, no lives depending on me for food and safety.”
“Coward.” Adderfang’s ears were flat.
Pinestar shifted his paws. “I have given eight lives to ThunderClan—each of them willingly. But I am not ready to risk my ninth.”
Weedwhisker called from the nettle patch. “What could be more honorable than to die for your Clan?”
“You would live among StarClan.” Poppydawn stroked her tail along Sweetpaw’s pelt. “And share tongues with Clanmates you have lost.”