The rogue leader snarled, his teeth showing blood as he spoke. “This won’t be the last you see of us. We have a mission here, and we know more about your so-called Clans than you think.”
Fear ran along Alderpaw’s spine like icy water as the rogue leader turned and headed away through the ferns. Growling, his campmates followed. Is he talking about what I told him at the gorge? Alderpaw shivered as he wondered whether the rogue gang had followed them back to the lake.
Bramblestar glanced around his warriors. “Who’s hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Cloudtail ran a paw over his bloody ear tip.
“Just a scratch or two,” Rosepetal reported.
Lionblaze was licking a few wounds of his own, but Alderpaw could see from where he stood that they were no more than shallow scratches.
“Alderpaw, find som e cobwebs.”
At Jayfeather’s order, he hurried to the roots of a tree where cobwebs crowded the gaps. His paws were trembling as he pulled long strips out and carried them back to Jayfeather.
The ThunderClan medicine cat was crouched over Oatclaw. The WindClan tom lay lim p, blood oozing from deep cuts along his flank. “Cover them and stop the bleeding,” Jayfeather ordered, taking a clum p of cobweb from Alderpaw and heading toward Emberfoot.
Alderpaw spread the rem aining cobwebs over Oatclaw’s wounds, packing them in where the cuts were deepest, as Jayfeather had taught him.
“Onestar is badly hurt,” Birchfall meowed, leaning over the brown tabby tom.
As Jayfeather hurried to look, Alderpaw glanced at the WindClan leader. He was on his side, his fur m atted with blood.
Alderpaw quickly finished dressing Oatclaw’s cuts. “Stay still until the bleeding eases,” he told him before turning to help Jayfeather.
Onestar lay as still as fresh-kill, a bloody wound opening the pale brown pelt below his neck.
“I’ll fetch more cobwebs.” Alderpaw gasped. “He’s blee—”
Before he could finish, a groan sounded behind him. He turned to see Furzepelt stagger, then collapse.
“Furzepelt!” Alderpaw darted toward her, his throat tightening as he saw her flanks shudder, then fall still. He sniffed her, shivering. His heart sank to see her sagging lim bs. “She’s dead!”
“Dead?” Bramblestar darted to his side, his pelt spiking.
Birchfall and Rosepetal approached slowly. Oatclaw lifted his head, his eyes round with shock as he stared at his fallen Clanmate.
Emberfoot limped closer. “They killed her?” Disbelief edged his mew.
Alderpaw looked for wounds, finding bitem arks on Furzepelt’s spine and scratches along her flank. Then he saw the ugly lum p at the back of her head. “She must have hit her head.” He scanned the ground and noticed, for the first tim e, the sharp points of deeply buried rocks j utting from the forest floor. Blood and fur clung to one nearby. He glanced toward Jayfeather.
The medicine cat hadn’t m oved. His blind eyes had turned to Onestar. Blood was pulsing from the WindClan leader’s throat.
Alderpaw touched Furzepelt’s lifeless body with his paw. There was nothing he could do for this cat, but perhaps he could help Onestar. “I’ll get cobwebs.” He headed for the tree roots.
“No.” Jayfeather’s mew was grave.
“But the bleeding!” Alderpaw darted to his m entor’s side.
The ground beneath Onestar was stained ruby red. The fur at his throat was scarlet and glistening.
Why wasn’t Jayfeather doing som ething? Alderpaw’s throat tightened with dread. “We must help him!”
“There’s nothing we can do,” Jayfeather m urm ured softly.
Alderpaw looked up. Cloudtail and Rosepetal had backed away, their eyes wide. Bramblestar hadn’t m oved. He was staring at the WindClan leader, his amber eyes as dark as night. Birchfall and Lionblaze exchanged glances as Oatclaw staggered to his paws and padded closer to his leader. Alderpaw could see him trembling.
Then Onestar gasped, as though taking his first breath after a near drowning. Shuddering, he gulped in air and opened his eyes.
Alderpaw blinked in surprise as he saw that the leader’s wound had disappeared. Blood still stained his fur, but the gash had closed as though it had never been there.
Understanding washed through him. “He lost a life,” he whispered to Jayfeather.
Jayfeather nodded.
Alderpaw swallowed. He knew that leaders had nine lives, but he’d never im agined what it must be like to lose one. Did dy ing hurt? How did it feel to come back to life?
Lionblaze looked questioningly at Oatclaw. “Has he many more?”
Oatclaw shrugged. “Only Onestar knows that.”
The WindClan leader flashed Oatclaw an angry look. Growling, he pushed him self to his paws. Oatclaw dipped his head.
Alderpaw frowned. Surely Onestar’s Clan knew. They must count each passing life. And y et a casual observer could never know how many lives a leader had left. Alderpaw searched the leader’s gaze, wondering what he would see.
Onestar lifted his chin, his gaze m urderous. Staring between the trees, he flattened his ears.
“Where have the rogues gone?”
“Away,” Bramblestar told him. “For now.”
“We must follow them.”
Bramblestar’s gaze flicked around the WindClan cats. “Furzepelt is dead,” he told Onestar softly. “Oatclaw and Emberfoot are injured. Come back to our camp, where Jayfeather and Alderpaw can treat their wounds properly.”
Onestar glanced back toward the edge of the trees, as though he hadn’t heard the ThunderClan leader. “We should go home.”
“Oatclaw and Emberfoot are in no state to travel that far right now,” Jayfeather put in.
Onestar narrowed his eyes, glancing at the injured warriors. Oatclaw was leaning against
Birchfall, blood welling on his flank. Emberfoot was staring at their fallen Clanmate, his eyes shim m ering with grief. “What about Furzepelt’s body?”
Alderpaw was surprised to see coldness in the WindClan leader’s gaze. Had losing a life robbed him of feelings? Perhaps he was num b with shock.
Bramblestar nodded to Cloudtail. “You and Rosepetal, sit with her. Make sure nothing disturbs her body until a patrol can fetch her.” He turned to Onestar, softening his mew. “Come home with us. We can take care of y ou.”
“We can take care of ourselves,” Onestar snapped.
Jayfeather snorted. “If Oatclaw doesn’t bleed to death first.”
The WindClan leader looked to where the m oor rose toward a darkening sky. A storm was m oving in. He nodded briefly. “Very well.”
“Chew up more horsetail and m arigold,” Jayfeather ordered.
Alderpaw was helping treat the injured WindClan cats in the shelter of the medicine den while the rain thrum m ed outside. He’d already m ade enough pulp to put on Oatclaw’s and Emberfoot’s wounds, and his Clanmates’ scratches, and his tongue was num b from the herbs. He wished Leafpool were here to help. Should someone warn her that dangerous rogues are in the forest?
Alderpaw had seen Darktail kill the only Sky Clan cat he’d found near the gorge. Now he’d brought his rogues here and had killed again. We have a mission here, and we know more about your so-called Clans than you think. He remembered Darktail’s words with a shudder. What in StarClan did they want? “They are so vicious,” he m uttered to him self.
Jayfeather’s ears twitched. “I haven’t seen cats like them since the Dark Forest.”
Alderpaw blinked at the medicine cat. Every kit had heard nursery tales about the Dark Forest.
His father and many of his Clanmates had fought in a battle against the evil cats who lurked there.