“Don’t worry,” Thistleclaw assured him. “Our borders are safe now.”
The rest of his patrol entered the clearing, and Spottedpaw noticed that Fuzzypelt was limping. She went over to the black warrior and asked if he was okay.
Fuzzypelt twitched his ears. “It’s nothing. Just a splinter.”
“Let me have a look.” Spottedpaw steered him to the edge of the clearing and bent down to study his paw. Sure enough, a shard of wood was stuck in the soft part of his pad. “I can get this out, but it might sting a bit,” she mewed. Before Fuzzypelt could object, she gripped the tip of the splinter in her teeth and tugged it free.
“Ow!” Fuzzypelt jumped backward, but then tested his paw on the ground and nodded. “Much better. Thanks, Spottedpaw.”
Spottedpaw was studying the splinter. It was very pale and straight, and had a strong, distinctive smell. This hadn’t come from a tree or a fallen branch. “Where did you get this?” she meowed.
Fuzzypelt shrugged. “I don’t know, somewhere in the forest, I guess.” He sounded evasive, and when Spottedpaw looked up at him, he wouldn’t meet her eye.
“I recognize this scent,” she murmured. “You got this splinter from a Twoleg fence, didn’t you? Did Thistleclaw lead a patrol into Twolegplace looking for kittypets?” She felt cold beneath her pelt.
Fuzzypelt’s yellow eyes filled with confusion. “He said we weren’t to say anything. Those kittypets need to be taught a lesson! They keep crossing our borders!”
“But they didn’t cross them today,” Spottedpaw pointed out. “Not since Sunstar renewed the scent markers. Thistleclaw should not have gone into Twoleg territory.”
“No harm done,” Fuzzypelt mewed uneasily.
“I wonder if the kittypet whose fur is underneath Tigerclaw’s claws would agree.”
Fuzzypelt backed away, looking relieved when Thistleclaw summoned him to the fresh-kill pile.
“My warriors need to eat!” the gray-and-white warrior declared.
“They are not his warriors,” growled a voice beside Spottedpaw.
She jumped, and turned to see Bluefur beside her, scowling at Thistleclaw. “He took that patrol into Twolegplace, didn’t he?” the gray she-cat hissed. “That was not his decision to make!”
“Are you going to tell Sunstar?” Spottedpaw asked.
Bluefur lashed her tail. “What would be the point? Ever since our victory in the battle with RiverClan, which Thistleclaw claims he fought single-pawed, Sunstar listens to everything he says. You know he’s taken over organizing all the patrols now?”
Spottedpaw meowed, “We’re going to have to get used to him being in charge. Sunstar is bound to make him our next deputy.”
Bluefur’s eyes darkened. “Not if I can help it,” she rasped, and Spottedpaw flinched.
She gestured with her tail to where Stonekit, Mosskit, and Mistykit were playing pounce with a dead leaf. “Thistleclaw can’t be that important to you,” she urged. “You have three other lives to think about now!”
To her astonishment, Bluefur’s eyes clouded with sorrow. “I love them so much,” she murmured. “But I love my Clan, too. I could never wish they hadn’t been born, but why now? What if my Clan needs me more than they do?”
Spottedpaw froze. Had Bluefur intended for her to hear that? The queen sounded so desperate, so lonely, but Spottedpaw couldn’t bring herself to ask what she meant. Instead, she mewed, “You are not alone, Bluefur. Thrushpelt will always help you to care for your kits.”
The queen looked at her, though her gaze seemed focused on something beyond Spottedpaw. “I cannot ask more of him than I already have.”
But he’s their father! The words stuck in Spottedpaw’s throat. Was Bluefur about to tell her that wasn’t true?
Bluefur sighed. “Love can lead a cat so far astray that it becomes too late to turn back,” she whispered.
Spottedpaw thought of how she had fallen for Thistleclaw, how her foolish heart had been blind to his cruelty and his ambition until she watched him kill a cat in the Dark Forest. “It’s never too late!” she blurted out. “You can always change the path you follow!”
Bluefur stared at her kits, who had finished demolishing the dead leaf and were now stalking the tip of Mumblefoot’s tail. “I have a decision to make,” she mewed softly. “But I am filled with too much love, and too much fear.”
“What do you mean?” Spottedpaw pressed. “Can I help?”
The queen shook her head. “No. This is something I must do alone.”
She padded away, not to her kits but to the gorse tunnel. Spottedpaw watched her leave, her belly heavy with dread. Bluefur sounded as if she was about to choose between life and death, she had been so serious. What was she going to do?
A full, gleaming moon hung over the trees, turning the snow-covered ground silver. The air in the camp crackled with tension as warriors circled, ready to set off for the Gathering. Spottedpaw was staying behind to watch over Tawnyspots, who had weakened so much that Featherwhisker ordered him to sleep in the medicine den. She stood among the ferns at the edge of the clearing, watching her mentor talk quietly to Sunstar.
“Spottedpaw, can I ask you a favor?” It was Bluefur, her eyes huge and anxious. Her breath hung in a cloud around her muzzle.
“Of course. Are the kits all right?”
“They’re fine. I wore them out today with a game of hide-and-seek, so they should sleep till dawn.” Bluefur shifted her paws. “I… I want to go to the Gathering tonight. Please, will you check on my kits while I’m away? White-eye said she’d watch them but she has her paws full with Runningkit and Mousekit.”
Spottedpaw blinked. A nursing queen never went to Gatherings, not when her kits still needed her. But there was something desperate in Bluefur’s gaze that made her nod. “Yes, I’ll keep an eye on them,” she meowed.
Bluefur blinked warmly at her. “Thank you, Spottedpaw. I’ll remember this.” She trotted away and her blue-gray pelt merged with the other warriors as they headed into the gorse.
Spottedpaw made sure that Tawnyspots was comfortable and gave him another mint leaf to chew. Mercifully she had found a fresh plant near the river that had been sheltered from the worst of the snow. The leaves would ease Tawnyspots’s bellyache, though Spottedpaw knew there was little more that she and Featherwhisker could do to help him.
When Tawnyspots had finished his leaf and was dozing with his chin propped on the edge of his nest, Spottedpaw trotted over to the nursery. Her paws crunched in the snow, and the bitter cold stung her pads. She poked her head through the brambles and was relieved to see that all the kits, and White-eye, were fast asleep, tiny snores filling the air. The nursery was warm and milk-scented, and for a moment Spottedpaw was tempted to creep in and curl up among the kits. But she wouldn’t sleep tonight, at least not until Featherwhisker returned. She was the sole medicine cat in the Clan, and all the cats here were in her charge. Puffing out her fur, Spottedpaw headed back to her den to wait out the night.
The cats returned just before dawn, quiet and hunched from the cold. Spottedpaw nodded to them as they trooped into the clearing and headed for their dens. Bluefur stopped beside her. Her eyes were clear, and she seemed much calmer now.
“Have you decided what to do?” Spottedpaw asked.
Bluefur nodded. “I have made my choice.” She walked away without saying anything, and Spottedpaw wondered if she would ever know what that decision had been.
Spottedpaw opened her eyes with a start. What was that noise? The sky was filled with stars, hazy in the bitter cold. More snow had fallen since the Gathering, and all around the medicine den the ferns were flattened under the weight of its icy white pelt. Spottedpaw sat up. Was Tawnyspots stirring in his nest? She craned her neck to see, but the deputy seemed to be lying still, breathing loudly but steadily.