“What do you mean?” Darktail asked, lashing his tail.
“In the Clans,” Sparkpaw explained, “we bring all the prey back to camp and make a fresh-kill pile. Some cat will take food to the elders and the nursing queens, and to any cats who are sick, and then the warriors and apprentices are allowed to help themselves. We don’t fight like that,” she finished with a disdainful flick of her ears.
Darktail’s only response was to narrow his eyes. Alderpaw stepped up to his sister’s side, ready to defend her if the SkyClan leader struck at her.
“It’s only fair,” Sparkpaw went on. “You must have eaten like that in the past, since you’re warriors too, and you’re supposed to follow the warrior code.”
Alderpaw noticed a glint of amusement in Darktail’s eyes at the words warrior code.
“We have developed our own code,” the leader told Sparkpaw. “After we left the other Clans, SkyClan realized our members were becoming weak, and we decided to make up some new rules. SkyClan rules reward the strong and aggressive—the cats who will best defend the Clan.”
Sparkpaw looked confused. “What about sick cats, then, or elders?”
Darktail shrugged. “They learn to take care of themselves.”
Alderpaw winced as he saw Sparkpaw’s neck fur beginning to bristle in anger. “Then why do you even bother living in a Clan? It’s rogues who are out for themselves!”
A low growl of anger rose from deep in Darktail’s chest, and he slid out his claws.
Hastily Molewhisker stepped forward, thrusting himself between Darktail and Sparkpaw.
“She’s young and curious, that’s all,” he meowed. “But that’s enough for now. Come on.” He gave Sparkpaw a shove, back in the direction of their den.
Sparkpaw was clearly upset as they headed away. By now the fighting was over. The hunters were relaxing in the sun, lazily grooming themselves; Alderpaw spotted Needlepaw with them. Meanwhile the elders and the she-cat with the kits were picking over the remains of the prey, searching out any morsels the hunters had missed. The kits were wailing with hunger.
“We should go home,” Sparkpaw whispered as they settled themselves in their den. “These weird cats don’t need our help, and I’m not even sure that they are Clan cats anymore.”
Alderpaw found that he agreed with her about the way the SkyClan cats were behaving.
What Darktail had told them just now about the way SkyClan had changed the rules didn’t seem to fit with Bramblestar’s story of how Firestar and Sandstorm had traveled upriver to restore the Clan. “It’s all so confusing—” he began.
“What are you talking about?” Needlepaw interrupted as she strolled into the den.
“I said we should go home,” Sparkpaw repeated. “These cats don’t need us.”
“What?” Needlepaw sounded scornful.
“We’re here to find what lies in the shadows, right? And we’ve found it. These cats are really… well, dark. We can’t turn away now.”
“I think Sparkpaw is right.” Cherryfall gave Alderpaw a serious look. “Something is… off about these cats. I think they’re beyond our help. Is all this really what you saw in your dream?”
Alderpaw glanced around at his cats, sensing that they were really doubting him now.
“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “But I can’t believe that Bramblestar got it so wrong, or that Sandstorm died for nothing. I don’t know the reason, but I do know that this is where we are meant to be.”
He waited tensely as the other cats exchanged doubtful glances. At last Cherryfall gave a nod.
“Very well, then,” she meowed. “We’ll stay and try to figure it out.”
Alderpaw let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
I hope StarClan sends me another vision soon, he added to himself. Because I really don’t know what we’re doing here.
Chapter 16
When the last scraps of prey had been picked over, the rest of the SkyClan cats drifted away.
Only one of them—a young orange she-cat—stayed close to their leader; she was coughing so hard she could barely stay on her paws.
Alderpaw watched in shock as Darktail swung one huge paw and thumped the young she-cat hard on her back.
“Stop that racket now!” he growled.
The she-cat gave him a scared look. She wasn’t coughing anymore, though Alderpaw didn’t think that the swat on her back had done her any good. She was obviously struggling to suppress her coughs.
Alderpaw padded up and dipped his head politely to Darktail. “It sounds as though she’s suffering from whitecough,” he mewed, indicating the she-cat with a wave of his tail.
“She should see your medicine cat.”
Both SkyClan cats gave him a blank look.
Alderpaw felt as though he had missed his footing and plunged down into dark, icy water.
They don’t have a medicine cat?
Struggling to control his shock, he continued, “Whitecough isn’t a big deal. Some tansy should help.”
Darktail still looked blank, as if he wanted to ask what tansy was. Alderpaw’s confusion deepened.
Sandstorm mentioned that Echosong was SkyClan’s medicine cat. So what happened to her? And why has their leader never heard of a basic herb like tansy?
Meanwhile the young she-cat had started coughing again, backing away from Darktail as if she was afraid of making him angry again.
“I’ll be back soon,” Alderpaw mewed. “I’m going to find some tansy.”
He headed for the path that would take him to the cliff top, meaning to search for herbs among the rough grass and bushes there. But before he reached it, he spotted a den low down in the cliff wall. Because of the jutting line of the rocks, it was very close to the water, and a few wilting plants grew close beside it.
Alderpaw bounded up to the den and gave the plants a sniff. At once he recognized tansy, along with sorrel, yarrow, and chervil. Some cat had planted them, he realized, just as Leafpool and Jayfeather planted herbs near the old
Twoleg nest, but clearly no cat was taking care of them now.
This has to be where the medicine cat stayed, Alderpaw thought. But why would they have such a perfect medicine cat’s den and no medicine cat? Maybe Echosong died without training an apprentice.
The tansy leaves were limp, and the scent wasn’t as strong as Alderpaw was used to in the forest, but he knew it was better than nothing.
Tearing off a few stems, he padded back toward the rock pile.
When he returned, he discovered the orange she-cat lying on her side, revealing a shock of white belly fur. The other SkyClan cats were keeping their distance, going about their business without even looking at their sick
Clanmate, who was rasping and spluttering. Her cough is even worse than I thought at first, Alderpaw realized with a stab of anxiety.
Alderpaw dropped the tansy in front of the orange cat. “Eat that,” he told her.
The she-cat looked up at him, her green eyes widening in confusion and a trace of fear.
“I will get better, won’t I?” she wheezed. “I don’t want to be exiled.”
Horror touched Alderpaw like a frozen claw. Gently he laid one forepaw on the she-cat’s flank. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Flame,” the she-cat choked out, before giving way to another spasm of coughing.