“He’s not back yet,” Whitetail meowed. “But Leafpaw’s here with some water mint.”
“Leafpaw?” Darkfoot blinked. “She’s a ThunderClan cat.”
Before Leafpaw could explain, he added, “ThunderClan, WindClan, who cares, so long as she knows what she’s doing.”
He chewed the mint leaves Leafpaw set in front of him, and rested his head on his paws again.
A choking sound from Morningflower drew Leafpaw’s attention back to her; the old she-cat was retching feebly, her legs jerking.
“What have you done to her?” Crowfeather snarled. “She’s getting worse!”
He tried to nudge Leafpaw away. She leaped backward, and he bared his teeth at her when she tried to dodge around him and get back to her patient.
“Stop!” Spinning around, Leafpaw saw Onewhisker padding into the bushes, with Tornear just behind him.
“Crowfeather, what do you think you’re doing? Leafpaw has come to help.”
“She shouldn’t be here,” Crowfeather growled.
“Are you saying she shouldn’t do us a favor? She shouldn’t try to save the life of one of our cats?” Onewhisker’s voice was level, but tense with anger. When Crowfeather didn’t reply, he added, “Since you’re taking such an interest, you can stay and keep an eye on her. If she needs you to do anything, you do it. Leafpaw, don’t be afraid to ask.”
Leafpaw dipped her head. “Thanks, Onewhisker. I think Whitetail and I can manage.”
“I want Whitetail for a hunting patrol,” Onewhisker told her. “But Crowfeather hasn’t got anything else to do.” He beckoned to Whitetail and padded away.
Crowfeather glared at Leafpaw. “Treat me like an apprentice and you’re crow-food,” he hissed.
Much as he had ruffled her fur, Leafpaw couldn’t help feeling that Onewhisker had been a bit tough on Crowfeather.
“Let’s just concentrate on helping Morningflower,” she mewed. “We need to get some more water mint down her.”
She chewed up more of the leaves, and asked Crowfeather to hold Morningflower’s jaws open while she pushed the pulp into her mouth, praying that the old cat wouldn’t vomit it up again. She flinched as Crowfeather’s flank brushed hers, making her fur tingle like the air before a storm. He leaped back too, then stepped forward again without meeting her eyes, as if he were embarrassed.
Morningflower had gone limp again, as if she were exhausted. Leafpaw sat beside her, stroking her belly gently with her tail. She was acutely conscious of Crowfeather watching her, and wished he would go away.
After a while she thought that the old she-cat’s breathing was growing stronger. Darkfoot was dozing again, occasionally letting out a rusty purr.
“Are they getting better?” Crowfeather whispered.
“I think so,” Leafpaw replied. “I’m sure Darkfoot will be fine. It’s Morningflower I’m worried about.”
“Leafpaw.” A shadow fell across Morningflower’s body, and Leafpaw looked up to see Barkface. “It’s good to see you.”
He spoke around a leaf-wrapped bundle; when he set it down the leaves fell back to show a few shriveled juniper berries.
“Barkface, I hope you don’t mind,” Leafpaw began nervously. “I met some of your Clan in the woods, and they said Morningflower was very ill. We’ve had the same trouble, so—”
Barkface interrupted her with a wave of the tail. “You’re very welcome. I’ve no idea yet where the best herbs grow—I found only one juniper bush, and birds must have taken most of the berries.” Sniffing carefully at Morningflower, he added, “She’s better than when I left. What are you giving her—water mint? Good thinking, though I’d use juniper myself, if I could find enough.”
“Can I go, then?” Crowfeather asked loudly.
“Oh, yes, yes.” Barkface waved him away. “I can take over now.”
Leafpaw watched him go, wondering why she was feeling disappointed. She hated the idea of falling out with any cat, but it hurt even more when Crowfeather was a friend of Squirrelflight’s—though what her sister saw in him, she couldn’t begin to guess.
“You’d better go too, Leafpaw,” Barkface meowed. “You’ve done good work here, and your own Clan will be needing you.”
Leaving what was left of the water mint, Leafpaw rose to her paws. “Let me know how Morningflower gets on.”
“I will. I’ll get a message to you somehow,” Barkface promised.
Leafpaw pushed her way out of the bush. Onewhisker was in the center of the camp with some of his warriors around him, and she decided to tell him she was leaving. Her steps faltered when she saw that one of the cats talking to the Clan leader was Mudclaw.
Onewhisker spotted her. “How’s Morningflower?” he asked.
“I think she’ll be fine. Barkface is with her now.”
“We can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done,” the WindClan leader meowed, his eyes warm. “Tornear told me that when he met you, he and Thornclaw were having a dispute over the boundary in the woods. I’ve decided that we’ll leave that area to ThunderClan from now on. We’ll put our scent markers at the edge of the trees, close to the foot of the hill.”
“That’s very generous of you!” Leafpaw began, but she was interrupted by a growl from Mudclaw.
“Are you completely mousebrained?” rasped the former deputy. “You’re giving away WindClan territory for a pawful of healing herbs? Barkface was perfectly capable of treating the sick cats without this apprentice sticking her nose in.”
Onewhisker spun to face him. “Mudclaw, you are a fool if you think this is about nothing more than herbs. Think of everything ThunderClan has done for us. How many lifetimes would it take to repay them? Without their friendship, every cat in WindClan would be crow-food by now.”
Mudclaw snarled, curling his lip to reveal sharp yellow teeth, and Leafpaw had to sink her claws into the ground to stop herself from shrinking away. One or two of the other warriors were looking uneasy, too, including Crowfeather.
She waited for him to back Mudclaw up, and say that she shouldn’t have come, but the lean gray warrior said nothing.
“I don’t want to hear of any fighting over the border with ThunderClan,” Onewhisker growled. “That stretch of woodland isn’t much use to us. Since when has WindClan hunted among trees?”
“There’s more than prey among trees.” Webfoot stepped forward to stand beside Mudclaw. “Herbs, for one thing. I know Barkface needs plants that we’d never find on open moorland.”
“That’s enough!” Onewhisker snapped. “There’s plenty of territory left, and Barkface never had trouble finding supplies before.”
His warriors dipped their heads, but none of them looked happy about their leader’s orders. Mudclaw turned away, muttering, “Traitor!” in a voice just loud enough to be overheard.
Leafpaw’s belly clenched with anxiety. She guessed several of the WindClan warriors would agree with Mudclaw, that Onewhisker was not putting the good of his own Clan first by harking back to their old alliance with ThunderClan. She wondered what would happen if Mudclaw were to challenge him for the leadership. How many cats would support him with tooth and claw?
“You’ll want to be getting back,” Onewhisker meowed.
“Crowfeather, please go with Leafpaw as far as her camp and tell Firestar my decision.”
Crowfeather looked up, his eyes wide. “Me?”
Oh, no, Leafpaw thought. Aloud she hissed, “You don’t have to. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. Just because I’m a medicine cat doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use my claws.”
Onewhisker flicked his ears at her. “Crowfeather, that was an order.”
Crowfeather still looked appalled, but he heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Come on. I’ll only get into trouble if I don’t go with you.”