She realized her paws were trembling. She tried to picture the skeletons of shrews and rabbits that Cinderpelt had used to demonstrate the way bones fitted together. For a moment she hesitated, terrified that she was going to damage the apprentice even more.
Brackenfur murmured in her ear, “I know you can do this, Leafpool. Go on.”
Leafpool took a deep breath and curled one paw over Whitepaw’s tail, close to the tip. She rested her other paw on the base of the little cat’s spine. With Brackenfur holding the haunches steady, Leafpool began to twist the tail. Whitepaw’s eyes stayed shut but she let out a dreadful screech. Brightheart lurched forward but Cloudtail held her back. Brackenfur grunted with the effort of holding Whitepaw still. Leafpool kept up the pressure until she felt a tiny click underneath Whitepaw’s fur. Suddenly the tail relaxed in her paw and Whitepaw gave a small sigh.
“You did it!” breathed Brightheart.
Whitepaw shivered and opened her eyes. “Where am I?” she mewed.
“You’re safe,” Brightheart told her. She ran her paw over Whitepaw’s head. “Leafpool has fixed your tail.”
“My mouth hurts,” Whitepaw whimpered. The swelling on her jaw was making it difficult for her to speak.
“Perhaps next time you see a hare you’ll let it run away,” Leafpool mewed. “You’ll have a nasty bump there for a little while, but I can give you something to help with the pain. Thornclaw, Brackenfur, carry Whitepaw into my den. I’ll send Birchpaw to fetch clean moss and feathers for her nest.”
Thornclaw carefully eased Whitepaw onto her mentor’s shoulders and with Brightheart holding her steady, they made their way to the cleft in the rock.
“You did very well, my dear,” commented a voice behind Leafpool.
“Sandstorm!” she meowed. She hadn’t realized her mother had been watching.
“I’m so proud of you,” Sandstorm mewed, her green eyes glowing. “You even managed to keep Brightheart calm.”
“No queen wants to see her kits in pain,” Leafpool meowed.
“Of course not,” Sandstorm agreed. She took a step forward and let her tail tip fall against Leafpool’s flank. “Even when her kits are grown up, a she-cat is always a mother.” Her breath was warm and sweet scented. “Are you all right, Leafpool?” she murmured. “You seem distracted at the moment, as if something is troubling you. You can tell me anything, you know.”
No I can’t! Leafpool felt a tiny quiver inside her, and suddenly she wanted to get out of the hollow, away from Sandstorm’s too-close questions, from her mother’s knowledge of what an expecting she-cat looked and smelled like. “I need to fetch fresh stocks of yarrow,” she meowed. “Tell Brightheart to stay beside Whitepaw, but she mustn’t give her any poppy seeds. I won’t be long.”
Sandstorm nodded, looking troubled, but she didn’t try to stop her. Leafpool turned to push her way out of the barrier of thorns. Without thinking, she headed up the slope toward the ridge. There was yarrow closer to the camp, beside the lake, but her paws carried her to the plants that grew along the edge of the stream on the border with WindClan. She breathed in the scents of moorland and rabbit, and felt the kits shift inside her. Do they know this is where their father comes from?
She had just nipped through a fleshy yarrow stalk when she heard the sounds of cats approaching on the other side of the stream. A WindClan patrol! Leafpool poked her head up to see four cats racing over the grass. Crowfeather was leading, his dark gray fur flitting like a shadow across the ground. A black she-cat ran close beside him, matching his stride.
Leafpool bolted out of the stream and ducked under a holly bush. The prickly leaves grazed her fur as she crawled out of sight. She knew she had done nothing wrong, crossed no boundaries, taken nothing that belonged to WindClan, but she wasn’t ready to face her neighbors’ scrutiny, not so soon. She heard the WindClan cats pause to renew scent marks, then continue on up the hill. Leafpool waited for a few moments, then wriggled out and shook bits of twig from her fur.
She returned to the stream and was dragging the bitten stalk of yarrow up the bank when a voice startled her.
“Did you think I hadn’t noticed you? I’d know your scent anywhere!”
Leafpool dropped the stalk, which fell into the stream with a splash. “Crowfeather! What are you doing? Where is your patrol?”
“I sent them on to check the marks beyond the ridge.” Crowfeather’s blue eyes were huge and searching. “I… I wanted to see how you were.”
Leafpool took a step back from the bank. “I’m fine. Busy, as you can see.”
Suddenly Crowfeather leaped across the stream. His scent wafted over Leafpool and the nearness of him made her want to press against his shoulder and feel the warmth of his pelt. “I have missed you,” he whispered, so close she could feel his breath on her muzzle. “I need you with me. I wish things could be different.”
“I wish that too,” Leafpool mewed. “More than you could possibly know.” She pictured Whitepaw’s frail body lying in the clearing, Mousefur’s seeping tick wound, Berrykit’s pricked foot. These were the cats that really needed her. She straightened up. “But we can’t change anything, Crowfeather. It’s over. I am ThunderClan’s medicine cat, until the day I join StarClan.”
She felt Crowfeather pull away and stare at her. Did he think he could go back to the way things were? Whatever happens now is my destiny, and mine alone. He cannot be part of it! “I think you should leave,” she meowed. “Your patrol will come looking for you soon. Do you want them to doubt your loyalty all over again?”
Crowfeather blinked. “I thought we didn’t care what our Clanmates believed about us.”
“Well, I do,” Leafpool meowed. “Go back to your Clan, Crowfeather. I won’t let you ruin everything again.”
It was as if she had struck the WindClan warrior a physical blow. He flinched away with hurt in his eyes. “If that’s what you really want,” he murmured.
“It is,” Leafpool growled. Inside her, the kits squirmed so fiercely that Leafpool was convinced Crowfeather would see. Can they hear me sending their father away? Oh, little ones, what choice do I have? If I lose my place in ThunderClan, we will have nothing!
Crowfeather jumped over the stream. He gazed back at her and opened his mouth to speak but the sound of rapid paw steps made them look up the hill. His patrol was racing toward them. Leafpool whisked around and dived back under the holly bush. She peeped out to see the patrol circling around Crowfeather. The black she-cat pressed close to him, twining her tail with his. When she spoke, Leafpool recognized her as Nightcloud, a WindClan warrior who had never been friendly toward ThunderClan.
“Is everything okay?” Nightcloud was asking. “Who were you talking to?”
“No one important,” Crowfeather grunted, and Leafpool felt her heart crack. “Come on, let’s finish the patrol.”
The WindClan cats bounded away. Leafpool crawled out of her hiding place. No one important? Well, it looks as if Nightcloud is the important one now. Had Crowfeather lied about wanting to go back to the way things were? His life seemed to have moved on already, and his Clanmates didn’t look like they doubted his loyalty. Leafpool was alone with her kits—by choice or accident.
The StarClan cats said they couldn’t tell me what to do, but Yellowfang must know something that might help. I’ll go back to her, remind her that she lived through this herself, and beg for advice. I cannot do this on my own!
Chapter 6
