Alderheart felt a stab of fear like a claw tearing at his belly. Is she going to consider this an act of aggression? he wondered. We weren’t even planning to trespass! Well, she can think what she likes—I’m not going home without watermint . . . I just hope that doesn’t mean we’ll have to fight for it.
“But I understand your needs,” Mistystar continued, “and I wish no ill on any cat. Take your watermint, and then go.”
“Thank you! We—”
“But next time you think of approaching our border,” Mistystar interrupted, “think again. The border is closed—do not forget that.”
Yes, I think I’ve gotten the message by now. Alderheart noticed that Willowshine, one of the RiverClan medicine cats, was among those gathered around Mistystar. She was shifting her paws uncomfortably, and there was an unhappy expression in her bright green eyes. There’s a cat who doesn’t agree with her Clan leader.
Alderheart didn’t speak his thoughts aloud. Instead he bowed his head to Mistystar in a show of deepest respect. “You are very generous, Mistystar,” he meowed. “ThunderClan thanks you for your graciousness. May StarClan light your path.”
Mistystar made no response, and after a moment Alderheart turned to go. But his paws were dragging, and there was a huge weight on his heart. Unsure what was compelling him, he turned back.
“Mistystar, won’t you change your mind?” he begged. “Don’t you know that ShadowClan has collapsed, and is now part of SkyClan? Suppose it’s catching, like a sickness, the way Clans fall apart? Surely it’s in every Clan’s interest that we’re all strong?”
The RiverClan leader drew herself up, her blue-gray fur rippling in the breeze and her blue eyes intent. Alderheart could see that his news had affected her. He held his breath, waiting, hoping, for her to take some action.
Then Mistystar relaxed, her spine settling. “Our borders are closed,” she repeated, “while RiverClan rebuilds. I am sorry to hear what happened to ShadowClan, but it is not RiverClan’s responsibility.” She hesitated, then added, “That is the way things are now.”
With a wave of her plumy tail, she dismissed Alderheart.
Struggling to hide his disappointment, Alderheart left the camp. He had always thought of Mistystar as the most reasonable of the Clan leaders, and for a heartbeat he had believed that he had reached her.
The wounds Darktail dealt her Clan have gone too deep. But what will happen to the Clans if the storm in StarClan’s prophecy is unleashed on us?
Shimmerpelt and Havenpelt escorted him, one on each side, until they reached the border stream and the place where he could leap across by the jutting rock.
His Clanmates and the WindClan cats were waiting for him. “Well?” Sparkpelt demanded. “What did Mistystar say?”
Alderheart angled his ears to where the two RiverClan warriors were still watching from the opposite bank. “Mind what you say,” he muttered. “We don’t want trouble now.” More loudly, he added, “She says we can go in peace.”
“I should think so,” Hootwhisker commented under his breath.
All six cats collected as much watermint as they could carry, making sure that they picked stems that were growing farthest from the stream.
“This might be the only chance we get,” Alderheart warned them. “Mistystar told me not to come back.”
When they had bundled up the herbs, they set off, back along the lakeshore; Alderheart was aware of Shimmerpelt and Havenpelt still guarding the stream until they were out of sight.
The WindClan patrol said their good-byes at the other side of the horseplace and headed up the moorland slope toward their camp. Alderheart and his Clanmates made their way back to the stone hollow. They padded mostly in silence, and Alderheart tried to feel optimistic.
I might have failed with Mistystar, but at least now we can treat the sickness.
But as soon as Alderheart pushed his way through the thorn tunnel into the camp, he spotted Jayfeather bounding toward him.
“Where have you been?” the blind cat demanded. “What took you so long? More cats have come down with the sickness—and the worst of them is Squirrelflight!”
CHAPTER 4
“No, no, no! Let’s try that exercise again,” Sparkpelt meowed. “You should be rearing up on your hind legs, then a double slash with your forepaws. Keep your claws sheathed for now.”
That’s exactly what I am doing. Twigpaw suppressed a sigh. She had been doing battle training since dawn with Finpaw and Larksong, and she was bored. I learned all this in my first apprenticeship, she thought resentfully. I’ve known how to do it for moons! Why do I have to go through it all again?
“Twigpaw!” Sparkpelt’s annoyed voice dragged Twigpaw away from these dark thoughts. “When you’re quite ready . . .”
Trying to work up some enthusiasm for the basic exercise Larksong was teaching Finpaw, Twigpaw reared up on her hind legs and aimed two swift blows at the empty air.
“Hmm . . . not bad,” Sparkpelt grunted as Twigpaw landed on all four paws again.
Not bad? It was perfect!
Twigpaw suspected that Sparkpelt’s grudging praise was because she was still upset at having been made Twigpaw’s mentor. But we would get along better if she didn’t insist on training with Larksong and Finpaw the whole time. I wish she would teach me something I don’t know!
Twigpaw wondered when Sparkpelt would get past the fact that she had switched Clans more than once. Twigpaw could understand that might have seemed a bit disrespectful of ThunderClan, and of the warrior code, but she felt different now—older and wiser—than when she was a kit, or when she was going through her first apprenticeship with Ivypool. She was certain that her place was as a ThunderClan warrior.
I’m just going to have to prove it to the rest of the Clan.
Twigpaw watched as Finpaw went through the exercise, and listened to Larksong instructing him on how to use his tail for balance, something the young cat had found difficult ever since the accident when he had lost part of it. Twigpaw knew that she could have repeated the instructions word for word, and when she practiced the move, she automatically flicked her tail into the right place.
This is so frustrating! I wonder if Sparkpelt is doing it deliberately, to test my commitment.
“Twigpaw!” Sparkpelt’s voice was harsher still, and Twigpaw had to stop herself from bristling at the emphasis on her apprentice status. “When you’ve finished staring at that tree like a moonstruck rabbit, maybe you could try the exercise again?”
Twigpaw sighed. It was going to be a long morning.
Back in camp just after sunhigh, Twigpaw went to fetch herself a piece of prey and noticed that there was hardly anything on the fresh-kill pile. She prodded a scrawny mouse and a blackbird that was mostly bones and feathers, but neither of them tempted her. I’m starving! Where are all the hunting patrols?
Glancing around and tasting the air, Twigpaw guessed that most of the Clan was gathered here in camp. She knew that there were fewer cats to hunt now that the sickness was so bad. Some of her Clanmates had begun to recover, but they were still too weak and shaky to do more than totter around the camp. At least Squirrelflight had started getting better, though she wasn’t strong enough yet to take up her deputy’s duties.
What if I went out to hunt and brought back some great prey? Maybe that would convince Sparkpelt I’m ready to be made a warrior. It has to be worth a try!