“It’ll be okay,” Lionblaze reassured her. “We’ll take turns to keep watch.” Before any other cat could argue, he sprang to his paws. “Let’s collect some fern and moss for bedding.”
Dovepaw and Petalfur jumped down into the stream to look for moss, while Lionblaze and the others started to tear up fronds of dried bracken.
“You stay here and rest your shoulder,” Lionblaze told Sedgewhisker. “Rippletail should be back soon.”
By the time the RiverClan warrior came back with a bundle of elder leaves in his jaws, the other cats had formed bracken fronds into rough den walls, while Petalfur and Dovepaw had patted moss into nests.
“Here we are,” Rippletail mewed cheerfully, dropping the leaves beside Sedgewhisker. “We’ll chew these up and put them on your shoulder, and by morning you shouldn’t have any more trouble.”
Sedgewhisker blinked at him. “Thank you.”
As the patrol found places for themselves in the makeshift den, Lionblaze realized how awkward it felt to be settling down with cats from rival Clans; each cat was huddling together with their Clanmate, and Tigerheart practically jumped out of his pelt when Petalfur accidentally flicked him with her tail.
“Sorry,” she whispered, looking embarrassed.
Lionblaze nearly put his paw down on Whitetail’s ear, and he flew back, brushing Toadfoot’s pelt as he did so.
“Watch it!” the ShadowClan warrior growled.
Lionblaze gave him a brief nod of apology and jumped over the bracken wall to stand on the edge of the stream. “I’ll take the first watch,” he announced.
He crouched on the bank with his paws tucked under him but soon realized he was tired enough to sleep unless he kept moving. Forcing himself to his paws again, he patrolled up and down the bank, always keeping the den in sight. His ears were pricked and he kept tasting the air for any signs of danger. There was nothing: The scent of the dogs was growing stale by now, and once he thought he caught a distant whiff of badger, but it was too far away to be a threat.
When he returned to the den, the waning moon was reflected in a pair of eyes staring up at him.
“Dovepaw!” he murmured, not wanting to wake the other cats. “You don’t have to stay awake, you know.”
“Don’t I?” Dovepaw’s voice was low but challenging. “If the dogs come back, I’m the one who’ll hear them first.”
“You’re not responsible for our safety on your own,” Lionblaze told her with a stab of sympathy. “We can help. Now go to sleep.”
For a heartbeat he thought that Dovepaw might argue and he would have to remind her that he was her mentor. Then she let out a faint sigh and curled up, closing her eyes and wrapping her tail over her nose. Within moments, her steady breathing told Lionblaze that she was asleep.
Lionblaze sat beside her, separated from her only by the thin wall of bracken, and watched her as well as his surroundings. I know what it’s like to have a power no other cat understands, he thought. It’s the loneliest feeling in the world.
Chapter 14
As soon as the thorn barrier stopped quivering after Brambleclaw, Lionblaze, and Dovepaw pushed their way out of the hollow, Jayfeather turned and headed back to his den. Every hair on his pelt was tingling with doubt. Eight cats are setting out on a quest based on what Dovepaw thinks she can see, hear, sense, or whatever, up a dried-out stream. It’s hardly a prophecy from StarClan.
What really bothered Jayfeather was that their warrior ancestors had said nothing to him about the quest, or about the brown animals that were blocking the stream. At the last meeting at the Moonpool, none of the other medicine cats had mentioned it, either. Is StarClan waiting to see if the prophecy of the Three will save us? It’s greater than them, after all. Halting, Jayfeather lifted his nose to the sky he couldn’t see. Are any of our warrior ancestors watching us now? he wondered.
The scamper of paws sounded from behind him, startling him out of his thoughts.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Ivypaw’s voice was raised in protest.
What now? Jayfeather asked himself, sighing.
“Well, stop being so grumpy,” Briarpaw retorted. “No cat put ants in your pelt.”
“You’d be grumpy if your littermates went off to save the Clans,” Ivypaw snarled, “and left you doing stupid dumb training!”
Jayfeather heard the sound of a pebble being kicked, followed by an indignant yowl from Mousefur. “Watch it! Can’t a cat go to make dirt anymore without being pelted with rocks?”
“Sor-ree…” Ivypaw muttered.
Jayfeather heard the elder padding away, annoyance buzzing out of her like bees from a hollow tree. He couldn’t help feeling some sympathy with Ivypaw. I’ve been left behind, too.
“Ivypaw, control that bad temper right now!” Cinderheart came bounding up. “You should show respect to our elders.”
“Sorry,” Ivypaw repeated, sounding more miserable than angry now.
“I should think so. Later on we’ll find a really good piece of fresh-kill for Mousefur, and you can take it to her. But not yet,” Cinderheart continued, “because all of you are going to do battle training this morning.”
“Oh, big deal!” Ivypaw wasn’t impressed.
“No, it’s great.” Briarpaw sounded excited. “I’ll help you, Ivypaw. I’ll be doing my final assessment soon.”
“Hey, slow down.” Thornclaw padded up behind his apprentice. “Your assessment isn’t for a couple of moons yet. Ivypaw’s mentor will do her training. You need to concentrate on that leap and twist I showed you last time. You haven’t got it quite right yet.”
“Okay.” Briarpaw seemed untroubled by her mentor’s rebuke.
Hazeltail and Mousewhisker came up to join Blossompaw and Bumblepaw, and the whole crowd of mentors and apprentices headed out of camp, with plenty of pushing and excited squealing from the young cats.
Jayfeather sighed. Sometimes I feel as old as Rock.
The hollow felt very empty once the cats had gone. Jayfeather stood still for a moment longer, listening to the faint creak of branches above his head, then gave his pelt a shake. Striding forward, he crossed the clearing and followed Mousefur into the elders’ den. Longtail was curled up asleep, his breath whistling through his nose, while Mousefur was settling into her nest with a crackle of dried bracken.
Purdy sat beside her. “I was just rememberin’ the time when a couple o’ rats tried to move into my Upwalker’s den,” he began. “I reckon you’d like to hear about that, so—”
“Hang on a moment, Purdy,” Jayfeather interrupted. “I need to have a word with Mousefur.”
“What now?” the old she-cat demanded. She still sounded annoyed; either she hadn’t got over being hit by the pebble, or maybe it was the thought of listening to one of Purdy’s interminable stories.
“I just need to check where the stone hit you,” Jayfeather explained.
Mousefur let out a sigh. “I’ll be fine, Jayfeather. There’s no need to fuss.”
“I’m only doing my job, Mousefur.”
Another long sigh. “All right.” Jayfeather heard the rustle of bracken as Mousefur stretched out in her nest. “It was just there, at the top of my leg.”
Jayfeather padded forward and sniffed carefully. To his relief, he couldn’t find any trace of a wound; Mousefur’s skin hadn’t even been broken. “I think you’re fine,” he mewed.
“I told you that,” Mousefur snapped. “Young cats, thinking they know everything.”
“Even so, if you feel any pain or start limping, let me know right away. Okay?”