She was so disappointed yesterday, when Bramblestar decided not to send out a patrol to look for SkyClan, he remembered. She has always wanted to have kin in the Clan. I was disappointed myself, but I can understand. There is a lot going on with the Clans right now. He let out a long sigh. Perhaps we can go look for SkyClan when we’ve dealt with the rogues.
“Do you really think that the cat you saw in your vision could be my kin?” she had asked Alderheart then.
Alderheart could see the desperation in her eyes. “Yes, I do,” he assured her. “And even though Bramblestar can’t send out a patrol just yet, we are not going to ignore SkyClan.”
However, Alderheart had seen that Twigpaw was still upset when she went to sleep the night before. He wasn’t surprised that now she seemed to want to stay curled up in her nest for as long as possible.
Then a breeze stirred the ferns at the mouth of the den, and a beam of sunlight from the entrance struck the mound of Twigpaw’s sleeping form. Alderheart suppressed a gasp. He slid into the den, clawed the bedding aside, and realized that the heaped-up moss and leaves he was gazing at were no more than an empty lump. Twigpaw was gone!
Heart thumping, Alderheart drew back from the apprentices’ den and bounded across the camp.
You’re being stupid, he told himself. She must be around here somewhere. But then he realized that Twigpaw must have deliberately piled up her bedding to make it seem as if she was still there. She has to be hiding something!
Brushing past the bramble screen into the medicine cats’ den, Alderheart found Briarlight doing her exercises, raising herself up on her forepaws while Jayfeather supervised her.
“One more, and then rest,” Jayfeather instructed her.
Briarlight obeyed, then let herself flop back into her nest. “Phew! I’m exhausted!” she panted.
Jayfeather turned to face Alderheart, alerted by the sound of his fur brushing against the brambles. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Your breathing sounds as if you ran all the way from RiverClan. Is it the rogues?”
“No,” Alderheart responded, dropping his stems of comfrey. “It’s Twigpaw. She’s not in her nest. I thought she might be here.”
Jayfeather shook his head. “Not since last night,” he replied. “You could ask Leafpool. She’s over at the nursery, checking on Blossomfall.” As Alderheart turned to go, he added, “Don’t worry. Twigpaw will turn up.”
Hoping he was right, Alderheart left the den and headed across the stone hollow toward the nursery. All around him, the camp was waking up to the new day. A few warriors were emerging from their den, blinking in the strong sunlight, while the first of the hunting patrols was already returning, carrying their prey across the clearing to the fresh-kill pile.
Close to the pile, Alderheart spotted Berrynose and Tigerheart standing nose to nose, their shoulder fur bristling and their tails bushed up to twice their usual size. They were hissing at each other, clearly furious, though Alderheart couldn’t make out what it was all about. His heart sank at the thought of yet another argument between ShadowClan and ThunderClan cats.
He had decided that it was none of his business when he saw Purdy get up from where he was dozing in a patch of sunlight and thrust his way between the two quarreling cats.
“Stop it, stop it, both of you,” he began. “This is no time for fightin’ among ourselves. We—”
Purdy broke off, then gasped out a few more words that Alderheart couldn’t understand. The plump brown cat’s limbs jerked and spasmed, and he fell to the ground as if some cat had attacked him. But there was no attacker in sight.
Berrynose and Tigerheart sprang apart, letting out yowls of alarm. By then Alderheart was racing across the camp, heart pounding harder than ever in panic. More cats gathered around, wailing in dismay or asking Purdy what was wrong. Alderheart had to push through the crowd to reach the old cat’s side.
“Keep back!” he snapped. “Let him breathe!” Turning to Berrynose, he added, “What happened?”
It was Tigerheart who replied. “We were arguing, and Purdy was trying to break it up. Then suddenly he said that one of his forelegs hurt, and he… he just collapsed.”
Alderheart crouched down and put his nose close to Purdy’s. The old tom’s eyelids were fluttering, but he was still conscious. Relief began to trickle through Alderheart. Maybe he’ll be okay.
“What’s wrong? Is it the indigestion?” Alderheart asked, remembering how the elder had been complaining of bellyache. “How can I help?”
Instead of replying, Purdy began struggling to get up, then had to give in, flopping back onto his side. “Can’t… can’t manage it,” he gasped. “Hurts too much.”
Alderheart began to examine him, running his paws over Purdy’s chest and side, though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. He could feel the old cat’s heartbeat, laboring and irregular, and fear gripped him deep within.
“I haven’t been feelin’ quite myself lately.” Purdy’s voice was weak, and he had trouble forcing out the words. “But I just thought… it was normal. I’m an old cat, after all, and I expect to get some aches an’ pains… I didn’t want to cause trouble, not with so much goin’ on.”
“Helping you wouldn’t have been any trouble!” Alderheart protested, trying to sound confident, aware of the ring of anxious faces that surrounded him and the elder. “But don’t worry, Purdy. I’m going to help you now.”
It’ll only make things worse for Purdy if I admit the truth, he thought, fighting back panic. I have no idea what’s going on, or what Purdy needs me to do.
“Go get Jayfeather!” he ordered Berrynose, who instantly shoved his way through the watching cats and streaked across the camp toward the medicine cats’ den.
Alderheart’s fears peaked as he turned back to Purdy and saw the faraway look in his amber eyes. It was almost as if he had already crossed the border into StarClan territory. Yet as he gazed up at Alderheart he seemed as calm and good-humored as ever.
“You’re a good medicine cat, young ’un,” he murmured. “You’ve got some big paw prints to fill, but I reckon you’re goin’ to be just fine.”
Then he let out a long sigh and lay motionless, his eyes still open as if he was gazing at something far away.
No! He can’t be dead! Alderheart thought, every hair in his pelt rising up in denial of what he was seeing. “Purdy… ,” he choked out.
Jayfeather had reached his side, along with Leafpool, who must have dashed across from the nursery.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Alderheart replied, forcing down the wail of a lost kit. “Purdy complained of indigestion earlier—and just now he said he had a pain in his foreleg. Then he collapsed, and… and he’s not breathing. But he has to be okay,” he finished, anguished. “Purdy can’t be gone!”
Jayfeather bent over to examine the elder, sniffing carefully from his ears to his tail-tip. Then he shook his head sadly and reached with a gentle paw to close Purdy’s eyes.
“No!” This time Alderheart couldn’t suppress his wail of grief. “There must be something we can do,” he insisted. “Maybe we can chew up some chamomile, put it in his mouth, and rub his throat so he swallows it. Maybe we can push his chest to make his heart start beating again!”
But when Alderheart reached out to touch one of Purdy’s legs, he could feel that it was already beginning to stiffen.