“And skilled!” Bouncefire put in.
Lichenfur batted crossly at a pigeon feather that had got stuck to her nose. “And how did they hear about us, hmm? Squirrels passing whispers through the trees?”
“They said that Firestar and Sandstorm told them,” Rockshade flashed back at her.
The gray she-cat grunted. “Maybe.”
A light touch on her shoulder distracted Leafstar; she turned to see Tinycloud standing beside her, the tip of her tail still resting on Leafstar’s pelt. “Leafstar, may I have a word with you, please?”
“Of course.” Tipping her head to show Tinycloud she should follow, Leafstar picked her way among the feeding cats to a quiet spot near the cliff face. “What is it?”
“I know how important the medicine cat is to a Clan,” Tinycloud began, “and I like helping Echosong. I’ve learned a lot from her, but I really, really want to be a warrior, and I feel that I’m missing out on training.” She dug her claws into the ground. “Please can I go back to ordinary warrior duties now?”
The small white cat was so earnest and solemn that Leafstar had to bite back a purr of amusement. “Of course,” she meowed. “Just as long as you remember that if Echosong needs help, it’s the duty of every warrior to respond, for the sake of the Clan.”
Tinycloud nodded seriously, then scampered off, skidding to a halt beside her littermates. “Watch out!” Her voice was an excited squeak. “I’m back in training!”
Gazing after her, a sudden pang of concern banished Leafstar’s amusement. Echosong needs to start training an apprentice. She wasn’t exactly sure when a medicine cat usually started to train an apprentice, but it made sense to start sooner rather than later. We depend so much on Echosong. What would we do if we lost her?
Tinycloud obviously didn’t have the passion she would need to live the life of a medicine cat. It’s going to be hard to find an apprentice, Leafstar thought. A medicine cat gives up so much for her Clan.
Mintpaw and Sagepaw were desperate to be warriors like their dead father, Rainfur, and Leafstar knew that Clovertail would have the same ambition for the kits she was carrying now. Maybe one of Fallowfern’s kits will show a skill for healing. Leafstar swallowed a hiss of frustration. Echosong was young and healthy; worrying about her replacement seemed like one worry too far right now.
The sun was sinking down below the top of the cliffs, and shadows began to creep across the gorge. As the cats finished eating, Sharpclaw began to sort out the evening patrols.
Billystorm padded across to Leafstar, with Ebonyclaw, Snookpaw, and Frecklepaw just behind him. “Is everything all right?” he asked, concern in his green eyes.
Leafstar took a breath, ready to tell the ginger-and-white tom what was on her mind, then stopped herself. I’m the Clan leader; it’s my job to sort out these problems on my own.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” she replied.
Billystorm looked as if he didn’t quite believe her, but all he said was “We’ll be off now, unless there’s anything else you want us to do.”
“No, we’re all set for tonight. We’ll see you again in the morning.”
Billystorm dipped his head and turned to go, then checked and looked back at his Clan leader. “I think you did the right thing about Harveymoon and Macgyver,” he meowed. “Being part of SkyClan means that they have to respect the warrior code—and you—above anything else.” He hesitated, then added, “If they don’t show respect, then they don’t deserve to be here.”
Gratitude for the tom’s support warmed Leafstar from ears to tail-tip. It meant a lot to her, especially coming from another daylight-warrior. Billystorm knows it’s a real privilege to be part of SkyClan.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “Good night, and may StarClan light your path.”
“Good night,” Billystorm responded, and padded away to the bottom of the nearest trail, waving his tail to beckon Ebonyclaw and the two apprentices.
Leafstar rose and arched her back in a long stretch. The evening patrols had left, and the huddle around the fresh-kill pile was thinning out. Padding over to join the cats who remained, Leafstar saw that the four visitors were looking around curiously.
“Why are those cats leaving?” Shorty asked, pointing the stump of his tail at Billystorm and the other daylight-warriors, who had climbed halfway up the trail. “Are they part of a patrol?”
“They’re kitty-warriors,” Tinycloud meowed, adding hastily as she caught Leafstar’s eye, “I mean, daylight-warriors. But they do all the same things as real warriors.”
The visitors looked confused and Cherrytail explained, “Billystorm and the others still have housefolk, and spend part of their time in Twolegplace, living as kittypets.” Her whiskers twitched in faint contempt. “Sometimes they come out at night, sometimes in the day.”
“And you still let them join in with everything?” Stick asked, his surprise evident in his voice.
Leafstar felt her pelt beginning to rise defensively, and choked the feelings down. “SkyClan is young,” she meowed. “We need all the help we can get to keep the fresh-kill pile stocked and the borders strong.”
“But your borders won’t be strong if half your warriors are eating kittypet slop in a Twoleg nest,” Cora pointed out. Leafstar wondered how much her air of innocent inquiry was genuine. If the visitors wanted to cause an argument, they were going about it in exactly the right way.
“SkyClan would have no trouble defending itself without the extra Clan members,” Sharpclaw meowed. There was a hint of warning in his voice.
Narrowing her eyes, Leafstar watched the four visitors, but there was no sign of hostility from any of them. Stick merely nodded and murmured, “Interesting.”
There’s something they aren’t telling us, Leafstar thought. They haven’t come here just to ask questions about Clan life. She exchanged a glance with Sharpclaw, and saw her suspicions reflected in her deputy’s green eyes. So I’m not imagining this! Sharpclaw thinks there’s something odd about these strangers, too.
Leafstar felt as if her paws were slipping on the frozen surface of a river, with nothing to cling on to. She couldn’t find any fault with the visitors so far—they had been polite, interested, and willing to join in the battle training—but she felt unsettled and vulnerable with their presence in the camp. Had it been a mistake to let them take part in the training session? Had they learned anything they could use against SkyClan?
I wish they hadn’t come.
The last of the sunlight had gone, and the first warriors of StarClan were appearing in the sky. A chill night breeze whispered along the gorge and ruffled Leafstar’s fur.
Sparrowpelt parted his jaws in a huge yawn. “I’m off to my nest,” he announced, rising to his paws.
“Yes, it’s time,” Fallowfern agreed, sweeping her tail around to draw her kits close to her. “Come on, back to the nursery!”
Petalnose padded up to Leafstar and murmured in her ear, “Where are the visitors going to sleep?”
“There’s not enough room for all of them in the warriors’ den,” Sparrowpelt pointed out. “We’d be sleeping on top of one another!”
“Maybe one of the new caves?” Petalnose suggested.
Leafstar thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, but I don’t want them in there on their own. Some of our warriors should go with them.”
Though she had spoken softly, Patchfoot overheard her and shot her a keen glance. “Why, don’t you trust them?”
Not as far as I could throw the Rockpile, Leafstar thought, but she wasn’t going to admit it, even to her own warriors. “No, I just want them to feel that SkyClan welcomes them,” she replied.
“I don’t mind sleeping in one of the new dens,” Patchfoot meowed.