Ivypaw padded closer. “Oh, I don’t like him in that way. I’m not a soppy dove like you. I’m a warrior, and so is Tigerheart.”
Dovepaw wished she were deaf, wished she could see Ivypaw’s mouth moving without hearing the words.
“Tigerheart doesn’t spend every night cooing in your ears,” Ivypaw taunted. “He’s one of the best warriors the Dark Forest has. That’s where his loyalty lies. Not with you!”
“That’s not true! You’re just jealous!” Dovepaw shrieked at her sister. She couldn’t believe these lies. “You’re jealous that I’m a better warrior than you. I always have been and I always will be, and you can’t stand it. And now you’re jealous that Tigerheart loves me and not you! You want to destroy everything I’ve got because you’re jealous. That’s all!”
Ivypaw’s eyes gleamed. “Really? Why not ask Tigerheart?”
“Shut up!” Dovepaw scrambled up the bank. “If you tell anyone that I’m seeing Tigerheart, then I’ll tell the whole Clan you’ve been training in the Dark Forest with Tigerstar, and then you’ll have no friends. Everyone will hate you as much as I do!” She pelted through the trees.
“You forgot your catch,” Ivypaw called after her.
“You take it!” Dovepaw yowled back. “Then your Clanmates might think you’ve done something right for a change!”
She raced on, blocking out the thoughts that whirled in her head. The ShadowClan scent line was close. Its smell bathed her tongue. Had Tigerheart really betrayed the Clans by the lake? She skidded to a halt and pricked her ears. Casting out her senses, she searched for Tigerheart.
She’d done it so often that it was easy to find him. She could hear his mew, hear his paws on the forest floor. She knew their sound—strong and certain. He was with Clanmates. She listened harder. Ratscar, Pinepaw, and Snowbird. Purrs rumbled in their throats as Pinepaw fell into a snowdrift with a soft thump.
They sounded happy. Dovepaw wished she were with them. She wished she were playing in the snow with Tigerheart, certain that he loved her. She wanted to be with him all the time.
Maybe she should join ShadowClan? The idea flashed wildly in Dovepaw’s mind, making her heart soar.
Don’t be stupid! I’m one of the Three. She couldn’t leave Jayfeather and Lionblaze to face the Dark Forest warriors alone. And deep down, she knew that she couldn’t leave Ivypaw. Pain pierced her heart like a thorn. She shouldn’t have said all those things. She’d been cruel. She’d made it sound like the Clan didn’t want her sister around.
Suddenly Dovepaw felt sick. What if Ivypaw decided to stay in the Dark Forest forever? She whirled around and raced for home. She’d apologize to Ivypaw. She’d tell her she’d been wrong.
But that wouldn’t be enough! Ivypaw would still keep visiting the Dark Forest. She didn’t understand she was being used. Dovepaw pushed harder against the frozen snow. Trees blurred beside her. Ice cracked beneath her paws.
What’s the use of all this power if I can’t keep my own sister safe?
Chapter 17
Flametail scraped snow hopefully from the roots of an old tree stump. He sighed as he uncovered leaves blackened by frost. Why wasn’t there a single herb that thrived in the season when sickness was most deadly? Littlecloud was already sick. The Clan was weakened by hunger. It was only a matter of time before whitecough threatened every den.
“Ow!” Pinepaw’s mew rang through the trees.
Tigerheart answered her. “That’s what you get for messing around.”
His brother’s hunting patrol was near. Flametail kept digging. “Mouse dung.” He cursed as he revealed more rotten leaves.
Tigerheart came bounding through the trees. “What’s up?”
Flametail shook snow from his paws. “I can’t find any fresh herbs,” he sighed. “Not even nettles.”
The rest of the patrol caught up. “Need help?” Ratscar offered.
“We’ve got time,” Snowbird explained. “The prey’s hiding, too.”
Pinepaw leaned over Flametail’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Flametail’s nose twitched. He smelled something green on the apprentice’s pelt. He twisted and sniffed harder.
“Do you mind?” Pinepaw ducked away. “I washed this morning!”
“Where’ve you been?” Flametail demanded.
Pinepaw jerked her head toward the trail they had left in the snow. “Near the larch.”
Tigerheart purred. “Pinepaw fell into a snow drift.”
“There were brambles underneath it,” Pinepaw complained. “I’ve got prickles in my fur.”
“Brambles beneath the snow?” Flametail felt his spirits soar. “That’s why I can smell fresh borage on your fur!”
Snowbird narrowed her eyes. “I think your littermate’s gone pigeon-brained,” she murmured to Tigerheart.
“Flametail knows what he’s doing.” Tigerheart flicked his tail at his brother. “Don’t you?”
“The brambles will have kept the snow off the borage leaves,” Flametail explained. “They won’t be frost-scorched.”
Ratscar padded forward. “I’ll show you where we were.”
But Flametail was already hurrying back along his Clanmates’ trail. “Don’t worry,” he called. “I can follow your paw prints.”
“You won’t have trouble finding where Pinepaw fell!” Tigerheart called after him. “The hole’s big enough to hide a hare.”
Flametail trotted along the tracks left by his Clanmates, his fur pricking with excitement when he saw a drift rise in front of him, the snow dented where Pinepaw had fallen into it. He burrowed through, ignoring the cold that stung his paws, until he felt the first stab of bramble. Wincing, he drew back the stems and saw, safely sheltered, the dark green leaf of unscorched borage.
Thank StarClan! He nipped off as many leaves as he could reach, then shuffled backward out of the snowy burrow. But worry still pricked his pelt. If only it had been catmint or even tansy. Borage was only good for easing fever. It didn’t drive out infection, and Littlecloud’s lungs were thick with it. What if his sickness turned to greencough? With no catmint, Flametail would be helpless.
He pushed the thought away. Enjoy StarClan’s blessings, he reminded himself.
Flametail headed for the camp. He liked the cold, crisp weather, and though it made his paws ache, he enjoyed the crunch of snow.
“Flametail!”
As he ducked through the camp entrance, Tawnypelt hurried to meet him. “You’ve found herbs!” She licked him roughly on the cheek. “Well done!”
Flametail screwed up his face, reminding himself that he was lucky to have such affectionate kin. Sometimes at Gatherings he glimpsed Breezepelt eyeing Crowfeather and Nightcloud with undisguised rage. Crowfeather and Nightcloud never noticed; they were usually too busy exchanging harsh words between themselves.
“You’re looking thin,” Tawnypelt fretted.
Flametail shrugged. His jaws were too crammed with borage to speak. Of course he looked thin. It was leaf-bare.
Tawnypelt glanced toward the medicine den. “You’d better go to him. He’s been coughing again.”
Flametail brushed his mother’s cheek with his tail as he hurried away. The medicine den smelled of infection. Flame-tail dropped the borage beside the store. “You should be in your nest.”
Littlecloud was slowly sorting leaves at the back of the den. The fresh herbs were piled on one side; the dry were pushed to the other. “There’s no feverfew at all,” he sighed.