So far there had been nothing to disturb the forest apart from the breaking storm, but it felt as if the whole night were tense with waiting. She would have given anything to know what was happening at the WindClan camp. Were Hawkfrost and Mudclaw really plotting to overthrow Onewhisker?
Leafpool let her mind drift back to the discovery of the Moonpool, reliving the moment when she had first looked into it and seen her warrior ancestors reflected there. She felt how amazing it was to be a medicine cat, and didn’t know how she could bear to wait for the next half moon, when they would meet again. Her fur tingled with anticipation of the future serving her Clan that seemed to stretch in front of her like a stream filled with starlight.
Suddenly she realized that she could hear cats approaching rapidly through the trees. For a heartbeat she thought it was the ThunderClan patrol on its way back. Then a gust of ShadowClan scent was carried to her on the wind. She sprang up, jaws parted to yowl a warning to the Clan in the hollow below. But before she could utter a sound, two shapes broke out of the undergrowth and hurtled straight at her. Barging into her, they shoved her backward until she crashed into the bushes at the edge of the cliff. Scrabbling with her hindpaws, she felt the thorns give way under her weight.
“No!” she gasped.
Her warning was too late. Terrified yowls split the air as the two intruders crashed past her and fell all the way into the camp. Leafpool thrashed wildly with her claws and managed to clutch the edge of the rock. But she couldn’t get a grip with her hindpaws to thrust herself back to safety. There was a noise above her, and she looked up, terrified that she would see another ShadowClan warrior coming to finish her off.
Crowfeather gazed down at her, his eyes wide with horror.
“Crowfeather,” Leafpool hissed through gritted teeth, in case the movement sent her plummeting down after the two ShadowClan cats. “Crowfeather, help me!”
The WindClan warrior didn’t move. The rock where Leafpool clung was wet from the rain, and she felt her claws begin to slip. “Crowfeather!” she begged. “I’m going to fall!”
Crowfeather stood as if frozen. A hoarse whisper came from him, but his gaze was blank, and Leafpool realized that he wasn’t talking to her at all. “Feathertail, I’m so sorry! It was all my fault. I shouldn’t have let you fall.”
Leafpool realized he was remembering the cave in the mountains where Feathertail had died. “It wasn’t your fault,” she mewed. “Help me, Crowfeather, please.” She felt her claws slip again and tried to dig them in deeper, but there was nothing to grip on the slick surface of the rock.
Slowly Crowfeather took a pace forward and leaned over.
Leafpool gasped as she felt her claws give way, but in the same heartbeat his teeth met in her scruff. For a moment they both teetered on the edge of the cliff, and she felt his weight slide toward her. Then Crowfeather heaved backward, his hindpaws scrabbling in the earth, and hauled Leafpool up over the edge. Both cats collapsed, panting. Leafpool let her cheek rest against the solid ground, knowing she had been a whisker away from falling to her death. Crowfeather lay beside her, his flanks heaving. Their eyes met, and Leafpool found she could not look away.
“Thank you,” she mewed.
“I did it,” Crowfeather whispered. “I saved you.”
The air between them seemed to crackle like lightning.
Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Leafpool commented, “I must be the last cat you would want to save.”
“Is that what you think?” Crowfeather’s gaze burned into her. “Don’t you know how I feel about you? And how much I hate myself for feeling that way about another cat so soon after Feathertail’s death? I loved her, I really did! How can I love you too?”
“Me? But—”
“You walk in my dreams, Leafpool,” Crowfeather whispered.
“No…” Leafpool breathed. “You can’t love me. I’m a medicine cat.” And I can’t love you, she thought desperately. But she knew that she did, more than she had ever thought possible.
To hear that Crowfeather loved her too was what she wanted more than anything else.
“Leafpool! Are you there, Leafpool?” Two cats were running up the edge of the hollow, and a moment later Cloudtail and Brightheart thrust their way among the thorns.
Leafpool and Crowfeather scrambled to their paws. “I’m over here!” Leafpool called.
Cloudtail rushed over to her, his tail fluffed out. “Are you okay?” he demanded. “Is this cat on our side or theirs?” He flicked his tail at Crowfeather.
Crowfeather began to bristle.
“I’m fine,” Leafpool meowed hastily. “And Crowfeather’s a friend. He was chasing those two ShadowClan warriors.
Don’t claw him, Cloudtail, please. He saved me from falling over the edge.”
The white warrior’s eyes narrowed. “Good.”
“What happened to the ShadowClan cats?” Crowfeather asked.
“They’re dead.” Brightheart ducked under a branch to join her Clanmates. “They broke their necks.”
Leafpool shivered, knowing how easily that could have been her neck, snapped in the plunge from the top of the rocks. Crowfeather gave her another searching look, then dipped his head to Cloudtail. “I’ll go, then. When I left our camp, the fight was breaking up. Onewhisker is still leader of WindClan.”
“What about—” Cloudtail began, but Crowfeather had already vanished among the trees.
Brightheart nudged her mate. “Come on; we must get back to the camp. And let’s hope we don’t have any more unexpected visitors.”
For a moment Leafpool stared at the spot where Crowfeather had disappeared, before she turned and padded slowly after her Clanmates. She had nearly been killed by ShadowClan warriors attacking their camp, but she felt as though her paws walked on the wind, and her head was full of stars.
Chapter 23
Brambleclaw hurled himself down the hill in pursuit of Mudclaw and Hawkfrost. Rain filled the air, as if the whole lake had been flung into the sky. It washed away the scent of the fleeing cats, and in the darkness Brambleclaw wasn’t even sure he was going the right way. But fury lent speed to his paws and sent energy surging through him from ears to tail-tip until he was hardly aware of being cold and soaked to the skin.
A flash of lightning lit up the hillside, and Brambleclaw spotted his enemies streaking ahead of him: Mudclaw had almost reached the lakeshore, and Hawkfrost was a couple of tail-lengths behind. Two or three other dark shapes ran alongside them. In the chaos of the storm Brambleclaw couldn’t be sure if any of his Clanmates had followed him, but he kept going, forcing his paws into an extra burst of speed.
The next flash of lightning showed he had halved the distance between himself and his quarry. He pelted past the horseplace, glimpsing a yellow gleam of light in the Twoleg nest on the far side of the field. He was briefly aware that there were no kittypets nearby as he hurtled along the shore close to the Gathering place.
He was forced to slow down when he came to the marsh, and his paws kept slipping from the rain-soaked tussocks of grass into pools of peaty water. Mud plastered his legs and belly fur. Snarling in frustration, he imagined Mudclaw and Hawkfrost escaping him.
His sense of kinship with Hawkfrost had vanished, and he felt hollow with the sense of betrayal. If his half brother thought he would escape a fight because they were kin, he was wrong!
He heard the sound of another cat splashing ahead of him, and made out a dark shape floundering in mud. Letting out a yowl of triumph, Brambleclaw leaped, but as he took off his hindpaws slipped on the soft ground and his straining forepaws barely grazed the other cat’s fur. He landed awkwardly on one side; before he could recover a heavy weight landed on him, driving him into the mud, and he felt claws gouge deeply into his shoulder. Mudclaw’s eyes, glaring with hatred, were a mouse-length from his own, and the WindClan cat’s scent flooded over him.