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“Good thinking, Rowanclaw,” Blackstar praised his new deputy. “Before our next battle, we will pair our warriors: Skilled and less-skilled will fight side by side.”

Flametail felt a rush of pride for his Clanmates. To ShadowClan, defeat meant a chance to come back better, stronger, swifter in the next battle. There was no self-pity, no blame, just the certainty that next time things would be different.

Crowfrost had gotten to his paws. “We could keep a reserve of our strongest warriors,” he suggested. “Then when our enemy thinks they’re winning, we can send a new wave to crush them.”

“Good thinking.” Rowanclaw nodded slowly. “Strategy is all very well, but we mustn’t forget that fighting skills are what win the battle in the end.” He turned to Pinepaw. “You were knocked aside by Hazeltail,” he reminded the young cat.

“She’s bigger than me, and she took me by surprise,” Pinepaw mewed indignantly. “Besides, I was fighting Thornclaw, not Hazeltail.”

“True,” Rowanclaw admitted. “But I think you could have parried her attack more effectively.”

“How?” Pinepaw cocked her head, eyes sparking with interest.

“Come here.” Rowanclaw signaled to Oakfur and Ferretpaw to join them in the center of the clearing.

Flametail watched his Clanmates with one eye as he turned to Scorchfur and began smearing fresh ointment on his scratches. Oakfur was still limping, but his pelt was ruffled with excitement.

“Ferretpaw.” Rowanclaw nudged the cream-and-gray tom into position. “You be Thornclaw.”

Ferretpaw fluffed out his fur.

“Oakfur, you be Hazeltail.”

Oakfur nodded and crouched, ready to attack.

Rowanclaw nodded to Pinepaw. “Attack Ferretpaw, just like you attacked Thornclaw yesterday. But when Oakfur lunges for you, let yourself roll with him, so the weight of his leap becomes a weight he must carry, not you.”

Pinepaw frowned for a moment, then turned and leaped at Ferretpaw. As Ferretpaw wrestled beneath his denmate, Oakfur lunged, hooking his paws around Pinepaw and plucking her off Ferretpaw. Pinepaw went limp, and Oakfur stumbled at the sudden dead weight in his grip. As Oakfur staggered, Pinepaw twisted around, nipped Oakfur’s neck, and escaped from his grip. Oakfur quickly found his paws, but the apprentice was already on his back, churning her hind legs and sinking her teeth into the warrior’s scruff.

“Excellent!” Blackstar stepped forward. “We have learned a valuable skill here.”

“Great move, Pinepaw!” Ratscar called.

Pinepaw nodded to her mentor, her black fur ruffled with pride, as murmurs of approval rippled through her Clan.

Flametail licked the last of the ointment into Scorchfur’s wound. “How does that feel?”

“Better,” answered the gray tom.

Blackstar cast a glance at the fresh-kill pile. “Rowanclaw,” he called to his deputy. “Organize hunting patrols, please.”

Rowanclaw flexed his claws. “What about marking the new border?”

Blackstar bristled. “Not while there is a trace of warmth in Russetfur’s body.” His eyes clouded. “Firestar chose a dark path when he asked for that land back. Would a true warrior give a gift, then kill to take it back?”

“Snake-tongue!”

“Fox-heart!”

Insults were spat into the chilly air from all around the camp.

Blackstar signaled for silence with a flick of his tail. “Flame-tail!”

Flametail jerked his head up in surprise.

“Come to my den and bring Littlecloud. I wish to speak with my medicine cats.” The ShadowClan leader turned to Rowanclaw. “Organize the hunting patrols,” he repeated. “But stay away from the Twoleg clearing. I don’t want any fighting until our warriors are fully healed.”

Flametail hurried to the medicine den and nudged Littlecloud awake. The medicine cat still felt unnaturally warm.

He woke groggily. “What is it?” he mumbled

“Blackstar wants to talk to us in his den.”

Littlecloud was out of his nest in a moment and hurrying to the entrance. Flametail was relieved to see that the old cat was steady on his paws. He caught up with him outside Blackstar’s den, pausing to let Littlecloud in first. Ducking under the low bramble arch, he followed.

Blackstar’s eyes glinted in the gloom. “Did StarClan give you any warning about the battle?”

Flametail shook his head and glanced at Littlecloud.

“Nothing.” There was a rasp in the medicine cat’s mew, and Flametail was suddenly aware that his mentor was wheezing.

Blackstar was frowning. “No warning at all?”

Both cats shook their heads.

“I would have thought StarClan valued Russetfur more,” the leader muttered.

“Perhaps they didn’t know,” Flametail suggested. “Or it may be that her death was unavoidable.”

Blackstar flattened his ears. “Nothing is unavoidable!” he growled. He turned to Littlecloud. “Share tongues with StarClan. Find out why this has happened. I want to know if ThunderClan is planning something else. They might be planning to reach farther into the heart of ShadowClan territory. This battle may only be the start. They are at our tree line already, and that is too close to our camp.”

Littlecloud blinked at him. “ThunderClan hasn’t stolen territory since before the Great Journey.”

Flametail shifted his paws, uncomfortable hearing his mentor defend another Clan. This wasn’t the first time Littlecloud had treated ThunderClan as friends rather than rivals.

The old medicine cat went on. “I thought Firestar’s leadership had put an end to their greed.”

“But not to their arrogance,” Blackstar growled. “They have always tried to tell the other Clans what to do. Perhaps they feel as if they’ve been wasting their words and now is the time for action.” He flexed his long claws. “Go to the Moonpool. Speak with StarClan. Find out what you can.”

Littlecloud’s flanks shuddered as he dipped his head.

I’ll go,” Flametail blurted out. Littlecloud was in no condition to spend a night in the open, and in such bitter weather.

Blackstar glanced at Littlecloud. The medicine cat’s eyes were growing milky, and there was a tremor in his tail. If the ShadowClan leader was shocked that his senior medicine cat was sick, he hid it. “Very well.”

Flametail followed Littlecloud from the den. Outside, Littlecloud’s tail trembled harder. “Will you be okay on your own?”

“I’ll be happy to know you are warm and resting. You’ve got to take it easy, Littlecloud. Ivytail can help with the simple stuff.”

Littlecloud opened his mouth as if he was about to protest, but it turned into a cough. “Thanks,” he spluttered.

Flametail dipped his head, uneasy that Littlecloud had given in so easily. The old medicine cat must be feeling really ill.

“Take care.” Littlecloud headed back to his den.

“What did Blackstar want?” Ivytail trotted toward Flame-tail, her belly swaying.

“I’m going to consult with StarClan at the Moonpool,” Flametail told her as his mentor disappeared into the brambles. “Will you keep an eye on Littlecloud? He’s not well. He needs to rest.”

“I’ll make sure he does.” Ivytail dipped her head. “And I’ll keep an eye on everyone’s wounds till you get back.”

“You remember what to do?”

“If they smell sour, lick out the old ointment and chew up some fresh herbs.”

Flametail nodded. “Littlecloud will be able to tell you which leaves to use from the store. I’ll be back by sunhigh tomorrow.”

“Take care,” Ivytail mewed.

Flametail ducked through the entrance tunnel, blinking against the shock of cold air outside the camp. He broke into a run, heading along an old badger path that ran down to the lake. His paws sent up showers of needles; his breath billowed at his muzzle.