“I’ll be back soon,” she promised.
“That’s very bad news about Rippletail,” Firestar meowed when Lionblaze and Dovepaw had finished their report. “We are all Clanmates in this. We have lost a brave warrior.”
All the Clan bowed their heads in silence.
Spiderleg was the first to break it. “You mean you actually asked kittypets for help?”
“And you fought these…what did you call them, beavers?” Dustpelt meowed. “You’ll have to teach us the right battle moves in case they come here.”
“They’d better not, or I’ll give them somethin’ to think about,” Purdy grunted.
Firestar raised his tail for silence. “That’s enough for now,” he meowed. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk to Lionblaze and Dovepaw later. Let them eat and rest first.”
Lionblaze retreated to the fresh-kill pile, where he tucked into Cloudtail’s rabbit with Jayfeather and a few of the other warriors. Even though she couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, Dovepaw felt too exhausted to join them. She tottered across the clearing and pushed through the ferns into the apprentices’ den.
Briarpaw followed her in. “Look!” she mewed proudly, pointing with her tail toward Dovepaw’s nest. “We made it especially comfortable for you.”
Dovepaw saw that her nest was lined with soft gray feathers. “Thank you,” she purred, warmed by the friendship of the older apprentices. “That looks great. It must have taken you ages.”
“You deserve it!” Bumblepaw added, poking his head through the entrance.
“Yes, you’re a hero!” Blossompaw chirped, popping up beside him. “The Clans won’t ever forget what you did.”
The three apprentices left Dovepaw alone to settle down and rest. It felt strange to curl up in her own nest again. Now that I’m back, I’m just an ordinary apprentice, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I be out on a patrol or something?
Her nest had never felt so warm and comfortable, but Dovepaw kept shifting around in the feathers, unable to sleep.
What’s wrong with me? I’m so tired my fur’s dropping off!
She opened her eyes at a rustling sound to see that Ivypaw had pushed her head through the ferns.
“I thought you’d be asleep,” she mewed.
“I can’t,” Dovepaw confessed. “I feel as if I’ve got ants in my pelt.”
“Want to go for a walk?”
Maybe she needed to do something to make her even more tired. Dovepaw scrambled out of her nest and followed her sister through the thorns and into the forest. This was better than trying to sleep, alone with her thoughts. Her paws tugged her toward the lake and the water that she had freed. The sun had set, leaving the forest shrouded in twilight. The rain had stopped and the wind had died down; the air was damp and fresh, moving softly against her pelt. The grass already felt lush and juicy under her paws.
The drought is over. The Clans will survive! Dovepaw paused briefly, blinking in surprise. I did that, she realized. If it wasn’t for my senses, the Clans would still be dying of thirst. Pride flooded over her with the force of the freed water surging down into the lake. Maybe it won’t be so bad, having these powers, if I can use them to help my Clan.
Reaching the lake, the two she-cats leaped down from the bank to stand on the very edge of the mud, looking out toward the distant ripple of water.
“Am I imagining it, or does it look closer?” Dovepaw whispered.
“I think it does,” Ivypaw replied. She gave an excited little skip. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like when it’s really full, with the water all the way up here.”
Dovepaw took a pace forward and halted as something sharp dug into her pad. “Ow! I’ve trodden on something.” Looking down, she saw two parts of a stick marked with scratches, the broken ends splintered. With an annoyed flick of her tail, she pushed the scraps away and examined her pad.
“Are you okay?” Ivypaw mewed.
“Yes, fine.” Dovepaw swiped her tongue over her pad. “The skin’s not even broken.”
She stood close to her sister again, their pelts brushing. Ivypaw twined her tail with Dovepaw’s, letting out a soft purr. “I’m so glad you’re back, Dovepaw.”
“So am I.” Dovepaw buried her muzzle in her sister’s soft pelt. “I’ll never leave you behind again,” she promised.
Chapter 26
“What’s happening?” Berrynose poked his head into the entrance of the nursery. “Why aren’t the kits born yet?”
Jayfeather paused with his paw resting gently on Poppyfrost’s belly and let out an exasperated sigh. “Because it’s not quite time, Berrynose,” he meowed, forcing his voice to remain calm. “You don’t need to worry.”
He could feel powerful ripples passing through Poppyfrost’s body as her kits prepared themselves to be born. The young she-cat lay on her side on the soft moss of the nursery; Daisy was crouched beside her head, licking her ears, while Ferncloud stroked her pelt with a calming paw.
“Yes, Berrynose, why don’t you go catch a shrew or something?” Daisy suggested. “We’re getting on just fine.”
“Then why is it taking so long?” Berrynose demanded.
Jayfeather rolled his eyes. When Daisy had first roused him to come to the nursery, Berrynose had insisted on staying with his mate. But he had been such a nuisance, getting in the way and questioning everything the medicine cat did, that Jayfeather had sent him outside. But it annoyed Jayfeather almost as much to hear him pacing up and down, and sticking his head in every few heartbeats to ask stupid questions.
Any cat would think no queen had ever kitted before!
Berrynose withdrew, and Jayfeather could hear his nervous pacing start up again. Outside the nursery, night lay over the stone hollow, with a gentle breeze stirring the trees and the scent of leaf-fall in the air. Two nights before, Jayfeather had traveled to the Moonpool to meet with the other medicine cats. He had hoped to learn more about Yellowfang’s warning, but none of the other medicine cats spoke about messages from StarClan, or dreams of the Dark Forest. When Jayfeather settled down to sleep by the lake, he had found himself padding through the sunlit territory of the Clans’ ancestors, but no starry warriors had answered his calls.
A grunt of pain from Poppyfrost distracted Jayfeather, and another powerful ripple passed through her belly.
“It won’t be long now,” he promised.
Daisy stopped licking to give Poppyfrost a drink from a clump of soaked moss, and the she-cat relaxed with a long sigh. “No cat told me it would be such hard work,” she murmured.
“What happened? I heard something! Are they here yet?” It was Berrynose again, thrusting his head and shoulders into the nursery.
“Berrynose, you’re blocking all the light,” Ferncloud pointed out gently. “It really isn’t helping.”
“These are my kits, you know,” Berrynose protested.
“Yes, and I’m the one having them!” Poppyfrost meowed sharply. “Honestly, Berrynose, I’m fine.”
At that moment, Jayfeather heard his brother’s voice calling from outside the nursery. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes,” Jayfeather called back. “Keep Berrynose out of my fur!”
Berrynose drew back with an offended snort, and Jayfeather heard Lionblaze talking quietly to him. The paw steps started up again, but this time there were two sets, drawing a little farther away from the nursery.
“Right,” Jayfeather mewed. “Now we can get on with it.”