“I’m never going to get my pelt clean!” Sparkpelt exclaimed.
“We’ll find some long grass for you to roll in,” Twigpaw meowed; she had escaped with no more than a few muddy splashes on her fur.
Sparkpelt let out a snort. “It’ll take from now to next newleaf!”
“Let’s get going,” Alderheart urged with a sigh. There had better be watermint, after all this!
The two patrols continued along the lakeshore, passing the tree-bridge that led to the Gathering island, until they reached the stream that marked the RiverClan border.
“There’s the watermint!” Twigpaw squealed in excitement. “Lots of it! I’ll get some.”
She bounded forward to where thick clumps of watermint were growing on both sides of the stream, purple flowers still visible at the end of the spiky stems.
“Be careful!” Sparkpelt called after her.
Twigpaw plunged in among the plants and began to pick the stems, biting them off carefully toward the bottom. The other cats followed her more slowly; Featherpelt began picking herbs for WindClan, while Hootwhisker and Larkwing kept watch on the RiverClan territory across the stream.
Alderheart was padding up to the nearest clump of watermint when a yowl of alarm came from Twigpaw. Alderheart spun around to see her tottering on the very edge of the stream. She would have fallen in if Sparkpelt hadn’t dived forward through the herbs, grabbed her by the scruff, and dragged her back to safety.
“Stupid furball!” Sparkpelt snapped, standing over her apprentice with her tail lashing. “I told you to be careful. And she dropped all her watermint into the stream,” she added to Alderheart as he hurried up. Her voice was loud, echoing for fox-lengths, and Alderheart was worried that the noise, along with Twigpaw’s yowling, would attract attention from RiverClan across the stream.
“Never mind; there’s plenty more,” Alderheart pointed out. “Twigpaw, are you okay?”
Twigpaw nodded; she was looking particularly miserable. “I’m sorry,” she mewed. “I was only trying to help. The edge of the bank gave way under my paws.”
“Well, think what you’re doing in the future.” Sparkpelt still looked annoyed, though Alderheart guessed she had been afraid that her apprentice would be hurt, or even drowned. “Stay by me from now on. Alderheart, you’d better do the picking.”
Alderheart headed for the clumps, but before he could reach the nearest, he heard a swishing sound from RiverClan territory, and looked up to see two RiverClan warriors emerge from the reeds on the far side of the stream.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Shimmerpelt, in the lead, halted at the water’s edge and glared across at Alderheart and the others, her silver-gray pelt fluffing up. “Let me remind you that our border is closed. Now kindly leave the watermint where it is, and get lost, or I’ll call up reinforcements.”
“Excuse me,” Sparkpelt retorted, stepping up beside Alderheart. “Do you see any of us on RiverClan territory? If we were to ask permission, it would be from WindClan. Besides, this is medicine-cat business. We have the right to take watermint for our sick Clanmates. That’s the warrior code!”
Shimmerpelt looked harassed, exchanging an uncertain glance with her Clanmate Havenpelt. “Please don’t make trouble,” she meowed. “Just go!”
Alderheart wondered whether Mistystar’s insistence on closing her borders had left her own warriors agitated and unsure. He slapped his tail across Sparkpelt’s muzzle as she drew breath for an angry response.
“We understand the problem,” he began, dipping his head respectfully to the RiverClan cats. “Would you allow us to cross so we can explain to Mistystar why we are so close to your territory?”
“We don’t need permission to be here,” Sparkpelt growled softly behind him, but Alderheart ignored her.
“Surely, even though your border’s closed,” he went on, “you’ll agree that it’s in every cat’s interest for the sickness to be stopped before it spreads too far.”
The two RiverClan warriors glanced at each other, then leaned their heads together for a low-voiced conversation. Alderheart strained to overhear, but he couldn’t make out a word.
Finally both cats straightened up again. “Okay,” Havenpelt meowed. “You can come across, Alderheart, but the warriors must stay behind.”
“That’s not right!” Sparkpelt protested. “Alderheart, don’t go into their camp alone. StarClan knows what they might do!”
Shimmerpelt gave her a cold glance. “RiverClan respects medicine cats,” she hissed.
“I’m fine with it, Sparkpelt,” Alderheart assured her. “I’m not scared of RiverClan. Besides, if Mistystar sees warriors from two Clans walking into her camp, she might think we’re getting ready to attack.”
Sparkpelt glared at her brother. “Well, if you want to be a mouse-brain . . . Just don’t blame me if it all goes wrong.”
Alderheart padded forward and looked at the stream. The current ran fast and deep, and just here it was too wide to leap across. He glanced over at the RiverClan cats, and thought he could catch a glint of amusement in their eyes.
“Oh, yes, you don’t swim, do you?” Havenpelt purred. “Never mind. Come upstream a little way, and there’s an easier place to cross.”
Alderheart obeyed, while the two RiverClan cats paced him on the far side. A few fox-lengths farther up there was a place where a large rock jutted out of the water near the middle of the current.
“Are you okay with that?” Shimmerpelt asked, waving her tail at the rock.
“Fine, thanks!” Alderheart responded. Oh, StarClan, please don’t let me fall in!
Gritting his teeth, he bunched his muscles and pushed off from the bank to land easily on top of the rock. Taking off for the second leap was harder, because the rock was smooth and his paws slipped as he thrust himself forward. For a horrible moment Alderheart thought he would fall short of the bank, but his forepaws landed hard on dry ground. Digging in his claws, he was able to bring his hind legs up and stand to face the RiverClan warriors.
“Lead on,” he meowed.
There was a second stream that bordered the RiverClan camp, but this was shallow enough for Alderheart to splash through. As he climbed the bank beyond it, he could see RiverClan cats gathering around, ears pricked in surprise to see a cat from another Clan.
“Stay here,” Havenpelt directed. “I’ll fetch Mistystar.”
Alderheart halted at the top of the bank, uncomfortable under the stares of the RiverClan cats. He was relieved when only a few heartbeats passed before he spotted Mistystar slipping through the cluster of her warriors to stand in front of him.
“Greetings,” the RiverClan leader meowed, with a slight dip of her head. “Why are you here, Alderheart? You know our borders are closed.”
“Greetings, Mistystar,” Alderheart responded politely. He described the sickness in his own camp and WindClan’s, and how he and the WindClan cats had come to collect watermint from the border stream. “I promise you, we stayed on the far side of the border,” he finished. “We never intended to set paw on your territory, or collect herbs from there.”
Mistystar’s blue gaze rested on him thoughtfully. “But you came very close to crossing our borders,” she mewed at last.