Oakkit flicked his tail toward the tunnel. “Come on! Everyone wants to see you.” He bounded away and Stormkit followed, suddenly excited to be out in the camp again.
“Thanks, Brambleberry,” he called over his shoulder.
“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” Brambleberry promised. “Make sure you eat well and rest whenever you get tired.”
Stormkit burst out into the clearing, dazzled by the sunshine and surprised by the heat. The river chattered beyond the reed bed and wind swished the rushes. New warrior dens had been woven around the fallen tree. The apprentices’ den had grown a warm coating of moss, and the nursery, tucked away in the sedge wall, looked as cozy as ever. Hailstar’s den had been rebuilt, its willow stems bright and freshly woven among the roots of the ancient willow. Beetlekit, Volekit, and Petalkit were chasing a ball of moss in the clearing. Mudfur was lying in the shade with Cedarpelt. Shellheart was sharing fresh-kill with Hailstar, Tanglewhisker, and Birdsong at the top of the slope while Softpaw hauled stale moss from their den.
“Are you almost finished, Softpaw?” Fallowtail, her mentor, was calling from the camp entrance. “I want to teach you a new battle move.”
“Won’t be long,” Softpaw answered.
Stormkit breathed deep and smelled the mouthwatering tang of newly caught fish. “Are you hungry?” he asked Oakkit.
“I ate when the dawn patrol got back, but there’s fresh-kill left if you want some.” He flicked his tail toward the pile of fat trout lying beside the reed bed. “Let me get you one.” Oakkit raced away.
“Stormkit!” Mudfur’s rumbling mew sounded across the clearing. The warrior clambered to his paws and padded across the clearing. “It’s good to see you up and about.”
Volekit caught the moss ball Petalkit had just tossed and turned to stare at them. “Stormkit!” He left the ball and came charging across the clearing, Beetlekit and Petalkit on his tail. They dived around Mudfur, nearly tripping over the brown tom’s feet, before skidding to a halt in front of Stormkit.
Volekit gasped. “H-how are you?”
Petalkit pushed past her brother. “We kept begging to visit you but Rainflower wouldn’t let us.” Her eyes glittered. “Would she, Mudfur?” She looked up anxiously at the brown warrior.
Why does she sound weird?
Mudfur sat down behind the kits. “She was worried you were too sick.”
Stormkit frowned. He’d begged Rainflower for visitors. Had he really been too sick to see anyone? He’d been in pain, but after half a moon he’d been as bored and frustrated as a turtle up a tree.
Beetlekit was staring at him. “You look funny.”
“Hush, Beetlekit.” Echomist came trotting across the clearing. “He looks very well considering what he’s been through.” She licked Stormkit between the ears. “I’m so pleased you’re out of the medicine den,” she purred. “The nursery’s been quiet without you.” She glanced at Volekit. “Well, almost quiet.”
Volekit swallowed. “We’ve—er—made a training corner in the nursery.” He looked away. “You’ll love it. We’ve got bulrushes and moss to help us practice.”
“He can see it later.” Echomist silenced her kit. “Right now he needs sunshine and food.” She glanced at Stormkit. “And plenty of it.”
Even Echomist sounded strange.
Stormkit frowned. “Oakkit’s getting me some fresh-kill,” he told her.
“Stormkit!” Birdsong’s mew sounded from the top of the bank.
“Is that Stormkit out of the medicine den?” Tanglewhisker appeared beside Birdsong, whose tail curled over her back.
Stormkit looked past them to see his father but Shellheart was already on his paws and bounding down the slope. “Stormkit!” He nudged Stormkit’s cheek with his muzzle as though he hadn’t seen his kit in moons.
Stormkit wriggled away. “You just saw me yesterday!”
“It’s just good to see you out of the medicine den at last! You have lots to catch up on. I’ve been giving Oakkit some training to get him ready for his apprenticeship. You need to get to the same level as fast as you can.”
Stormkit purred. He glanced across the clearing wondering if Oakkit had found him a fish yet. His belly was growling.
He stiffened.
Rippleclaw was staring at him from underneath the ancient willow. The silver-and-black warrior looked away as Stormkit caught his gaze.
The whole Clan was acting odd.
Confused, Stormkit turned back to the friendly faces crowding around him. Everyone was making a fuss, saying how pleased they were to see him, how much they’d missed him, but there was something peculiar about the way they were looking at him. Because they weren’t actually looking at him. Stormkit realized with a jolt that, despite the purrs and kind words, none of them was looking directly at his face. A cold chill ran through him.
He shouldered his way past Echomist and Mudfur and headed for the reed bed.
“Stormkit?” Oakkit dropped the fish he was carrying as Stormkit dashed past him.
Stormkit stopped at the shore, by a patch of clear water, and stared down.
“Stormkit!”
He hardly heard Oakkit’s mew. He was staring at the strange cat reflected in the water. That wasn’t his face! This cat’s jaw was twisted from just below his ear, hardly visible beneath one cheek, sunken horribly beneath the top lip. His nose was stretched sideways and up, and his tongue poked out at one side, lolling between his teeth like a fat pink worm.
“What happened to me?” he whispered.
Oakkit pressed close to him. “You’re lucky to be alive, that’s what,” he mewed fiercely. He stroked Stormkit’s spine with his tail. “Brambleberry thought you’d die of shock and then infection. She fought really hard to keep you alive. And Shellheart sat with you night after night.”
“What about Rainflower?” Was this why his mother had hardly visited him? Because he was so horrible to look at?
“Rainflower was upset,” Oakkit told him.
Stormkit felt a flood of guilt. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“What for?”
“That I hurt Rainflower so much.”
“Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault.” Oakkit’s voice sounded as if it was stuck in his throat. “Come on.” He sat up and nudged Stormkit away from the water’s edge with his nose. “We’re supposed to be fattening you up!”
Stormkit let his brother guide him toward the fish he’d dropped. He felt weak.
“Eat,” Oakkit ordered, stopping beside the fish.
Stormkit crouched down and took a mouthful. He could hardly taste it. All he could think about was how strange it felt when his tongue kept trying to slide out of the side of his mouth. How oddly he had to move his jaws to chew. In the medicine den, it had seemed normal. It’s just part of your recovery, Brambleberry had told him as he clumsily munched the fish she’d brought him. But he was better now. Back among his Clanmates. Why was eating still so difficult? He must look weird, trying to keep the food from dribbling from the twisted side of his mouth. He glanced up, wondering who was watching.
“I can’t do it,” he whispered.
“Yes, you can.” Oakkit picked up the fish and carried it to a shadowy spot behind a jutting branch of the fallen tree. “Come over here.” He beckoned to Stormkit with his tail. “It’s quiet. You can eat in peace.” Oakkit pushed the fish toward Stormkit and padded back to the clearing.
Stormkit’s belly rumbled as if to remind him that he was still hungry. Hidden behind the fallen tree he took another bite of fish. He glanced up to see if anyone was watching. But Oakkit had found him the most private spot in the camp. No one could see him here. Relieved and grateful, Stormkit gulped down the fresh-kill. Pain raked along his jaw, but he kept chewing. At last, his belly full, he sat up. A small pile of half-chewed fish sat by his paws where it had dribbled from his mouth. Stormkit quickly dug a hole in the soft earth and buried it. He jumped, hot with embarrassment, as Oakkit appeared around the end of the branch.