“Tell us what we can do to help,” the light brown she-cat meowed.
“Thanks, Clovertail. You could take over from Cora and get Waspwhisker cleaned up. Cora’s wounded, too, and she needs to rest. And it would be a big help if you could fetch them both some water.”
“I’ll do that,” Fallowfern mewed instantly, darting off toward the river.
Leafstar let her gaze travel around the gorge, making sure that all the injured cats were ready to be treated. Tinycloud, who had only a few shallow scratches on one side, was slipping in and out of Echosong’s den, fetching her the herbs she asked for, no longer reluctant to help the medicine cat. Sharpclaw had washed off the blood from his own pelt and was making sure that the rest of the Clan did the same, firmly dunking Shrewtooth in the pool as the black tom shivered on the edge, then hauling him out again.
Reassured that no cat needed her help, Leafstar padded down to the pool and slid into the water. After the first cold shock she enjoyed the lap of the waves against her scratches, and the sight of rat blood streaming away from her fur. Relaxing, she looked up and saw three cats appear at the top of the gorge and begin scrambling down the traiclass="underline" Billystorm, Ebonyclaw, and Frecklepaw. They picked up the pace when they spotted their injured Clanmates, and skidded to a halt among the cats waiting for Echosong.
“What happened?” Billystorm demanded. “Did you fight the rats?”
Frecklepaw’s eyes stretched wide in horror at the sight of Waspwhisker, now lying on his side with his eyes closed. “Is he dead?” she whispered.
“Yes, we fought the rats,” Patchfoot meowed proudly. “We set off before dawn this morning, and we ripped their pelts off. And no cat is dead. Waspwhisker will be just fine.”
“Why didn’t you let us know when the attack would be?” Ebonyclaw hissed with a lash of her tail. “We could have been useful!”
At the sound of anger in the black she-cat’s voice, Leafstar hauled herself out of the pool and padded over to her. “We didn’t leave you out because we don’t value your help,” she mewed, touching her nose to Ebonyclaw’s ear.
Ebonyclaw twitched away from her. “Then why weren’t we told?”
“We needed to use cats who were ready to leave at any moment,” Sharpclaw put in, thrusting his way through the cats to Leafstar’s side. “Including during the night.”
“We could have been here if we’d been warned.” Billystorm didn’t sound as angry as Ebonyclaw, but he was clearly offended. Turning to Leafstar, he added, “Are you hurt?”
“Er, I’m fine, thanks,” Leafstar replied, startled by the change of focus. “Just a scratch on my shoulder.”
Billystorm leaned closer to give the wound a sniff. “That’s more than ‘a scratch,’” he commented. “You need some herbs. I’ll fetch them for you—what should I look for?”
“Marigold!” Frecklepaw chirped. “I know what it looks like. I’ll get it,” she offered, racing toward the medicine cat’s den. A moment later she returned with a mouthful of leaves, chewed them up carefully, and plastered the pulp onto Leafstar’s injury.
“Echosong said you should make sure to let her have a look at it,” she told Leafstar when she had finished. “Just in case I didn’t do it right.”
“I’m sure you did,” Leafstar responded, flexing her shoulder. “It feels better already.”
Frecklepaw’s eyes sparkled. “I like watching Echosong,” she admitted.
“Then you’d better go and see if you can help her some more,” Leafstar meowed. “With so many warriors to treat, she’ll be glad of an extra pair of paws.”
“Thank you!” Frecklepaw dashed off again with her tail straight up in the air.
Leafstar let out an affectionate purr, then turned back to Ebonyclaw and Billystorm. Both cats were shifting their paws awkwardly, as if they felt out of place among so many battle-scarred warriors.
“I guess we could go on a hunting patrol,” Billystorm suggested, with a glance at the black she-cat. “We need to restock the fresh-kill pile.”
“Thanks, good idea,” Leafstar meowed, though she felt uneasy as she watched them go. Two was a very small number for a patrol. Perhaps the Clan needed Harveymoon and Macgyver more than she had realized; she hoped they wanted to come back when their banishment was over.
The pain of Leafstar’s scratch was ebbing, but she thought she had better let Echosong check it out, and then see if there was anything she could do to help. As she approached the medicine cat, she saw her instructing Frecklepaw, who was pressing a pad of cobweb against Rockshade’s wounded ear.
“That’s right,” Echosong prompted. “Make sure all the edges are sealed. Good. Now you can collect another pawful of cobweb and treat that bite on Cherrytail’s hind leg. Make sure the wound is really clean first.”
“I will, Echosong,” Frecklepaw mewed.
Meanwhile Echosong started patting marigold pulp along Waspwhisker’s scratch. “Tinycloud, fetch Waspwhisker a poppy head,” she directed the white warrior. “Give him three seeds and no more. Now, Bouncefire, let’s have a look at you.”
Leafstar was impressed by the way the young medicine cat could think of three things at once, and treat the wounded warriors without keeping them waiting for long. Before she could find out if Echosong had a task for her, Sharpclaw came limping up; a nasty bite on his leg needed attention but the light of battle still gleamed in his eyes.
“They fought well,” he meowed.
Leafstar wasn’t sure who he meant. “The new warriors? Yes, they—”
“No, the Twolegplace cats,” Sharpclaw interrupted. “We owe our victory to Stick—you know that, don’t you?”
“He helped us a lot,” Leafstar began, “but every cat—”
Sharpclaw interrupted again. “Any Clan would be lucky to have them as warriors.”
Leafstar felt faintly surprised. “You think they should stay? They’ve only been here for a quarter moon,” she pointed out. “And they haven’t said anything about their plans.”
Sharpclaw twitched his ears. “Maybe they’re waiting for an invitation to join us,” he suggested.
“Maybe.” Somehow Leafstar wasn’t so sure.
“We owe you a lot,” Sharpclaw mewed to Coal, who padded up at that moment; Leafstar wondered how much the black tom had heard of their conversation. “Without you and your friends, we never would have defeated the rats.”
Coal shrugged. “It’s the least we could do in return for your shelter.”
Leafstar’s paws tingled with uneasiness. Why are you here? she wondered yet again. What do you want, to make you risk your own pelts in battle, just because we let you stay here in the gorge?
Chapter 12
The sun had gone down, leaving the uneven line of Twoleg rooftops outlined against a scarlet sky. Stick clambered up a pile of Twoleg waste, pushing aside pieces of debris, his nose twitching. Last time he’d been here, the pile had been teeming with rats. Now all he could find were stale scents and droppings.
“Not a whisker,” Cora spat, looking down at him from the top of the heap. “Some other cats must have cleaned the place out already.”
“Dodge!” Stick hissed.
“We can’t be sure of that,” Cora pointed out. “There are other cats living here; any of them could have taken the rats.”
“I know it’s Dodge,” Stick growled. “He doesn’t want us living here, so he’s trying to starve us.” He jumped down from the mound, swiping bad-temperedly at an empty Twoleg box as he landed, and stalked away.
Before he had taken more than three paw steps, he glimpsed a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye. Spinning around, he saw Red sitting in the shadow of a wall.
“Where have you been?”
Red’s neck fur fluffed up. “Around.”