Puddleshine had already crossed the scent line and was following Harespring, who was weaving between the heather bushes.
Alderpaw hurried after them, Kestrelflight at his side. “Is it far?”
“It’s just over the next rise,” Kestrelflight purred.
The chill that comes before dawn was seeping through the forest, spreading deep into
Alderpaw’s bones by the time he reached the ThunderClan camp. Leafpool carried the lungwort she’d gathered to the medicine den, nodding good night to Alderpaw as she went.
Jayfeather paused in the em pty clearing. Around them, gentle snores sounded from the shadowy dens.
“Puddleshine still has a long night ahead of him,” he mewed softly to Alderpaw.
“I wish I could have gone with him to help give the herbs to the sick cats.” Alderpaw’s heart ached with the hope that Puddleshine had gathered the herb soon enough to save his Clanmates.
“There’s been enough sneaking around tonight,” Jayfeather m urm ured.
“I hope Harespring and Kestrelflight don’t get into trouble.” Alderpaw fluffed out his fur against the chill.
“Hopefully, Onestar won’t find out,” Jayfeather mewed. “But if he does, he’d be mouse-brained to turn on his deputy and his medicine cat. He needs their support, especially if he’s being as unreasonable with his Clanmates as he is with the rest of us.”
Alderpaw’s thoughts flitted back to the fearful glances of the WindClan warriors as they’d watched their leader rage against Leafpool. “At least we m ay have saved som e lives tonight.”
“And we have our own stock of the herb in case the sickness ever reaches our forest.”
Jayfeather shifted his paws.
Alderpaw pressed back a shiver. Tiredness dragged at his bones, and he longed to head to his warm nest. But Jayfeather seem ed to have som ething on his m ind, so he waited in the dark clearing with him until, at last, the ThunderClan medicine cat spoke.
“Well done, speaking up tonight.” His blind blue gaze flashed in the moonlight. “I wondered when y ou’d finally find y our tongue.”
“I’ve spoken up before—”
Jayfeather cut him off. “Talking back to an old badger like m e is not the sam e as standing up for what you believe to cats from other Clans. I was proud of y ou.”
Alderpaw blinked, wondering if he was im agining Jayfeather’s words. Perhaps he had gone to his nest. Perhaps this was a dream.
Jayfeather turned and headed for his den. “I think you m ay be ready to become a full medicine cat.”
Alderpaw watched him go, too stunned to speak. Was it true? Was he going to get his full medicine cat name soon? Alderpatch. Alderleaf. Alderblaze. Possible names flitted through his mind as he headed for the apprentices’ den. Suddenly he hardly felt the cold. Warm th seeped through his pelt as he im agined the other medicine cats cheering his new name. He’d felt self-conscious being the only apprentice, especially when Puddleshine had been named after only two moons of training. Happily, he ducked into the den and clim bed into his nest. Perhaps I will be a great medicine cat after all.
Chapter 22
Violetpaw tore another small morsel from the sparrow and laid it on the edge of Snowbird’s nest.
The white she-cat was recovering well. In the half-moon since Puddleshine had returned to camp with the lungwort, the sickness that had gripped ShadowClan had slowly eased. But the stench of death still lingered in the ShadowClan camp. Wasptail had died the night after Kinkfur, and, more troubling, Crowfrost had been too ill to respond to the herb and had died a few day s later.
ShadowClan had lost its deputy.
As Snowbird leaned forward and lapped up the scrap of sparrow flesh, Violetpaw glanced at Dawnpelt. Her m entor’s gaze was em pty as she gently washed Oakfur’s pelt. It had been hard enough for Dawnpelt to lose Sleekwhisker and Juniperclaw to the rogues. But the death of her mate, Crowfrost, had been devastating. And y et Dawnpelt had carried on with her duties without complaining. Violetpaw wished that som e of her other Clanmates could do the sam e. Mistcloud and Sparrowtail had hardly hunted since Kinkfur’s death. Violetpaw had heard them m uttering about Crowfrost, even as he lay dy ing, blam ing him for letting Twigpaw go. Had they convinced ThunderClan to help by keeping Twigpaw, they might have gotten the herb sooner and not lost their deputy.
Mouse-brains! Violetpaw ripped away another piece of sparrow flesh and laid it in front of Snowbird. Puddleshine had m anaged to gather the herb without a hostage.
Yarrowleaf snored gently in her nest, while Puddleshine leaned over Pinenose, listening to her breathing, his ear pressed against her ribs. Snowbird, Oakfur, Yarrowleaf, and Pinenose were the last four cats recovering from the sickness. In a few day s they’d all be well, and the den would be cleared out to make way for fresh nests. The bramble shelter could become the warriors’ den once more. And with Rowanstar well enough to resum e his role as leader, Violetpaw hoped that ShadowClan would start to feel more organized. Rowanstar was still weak, but he had m ade
Tigerheart his new deputy and given Whorlpaw, Snakepaw, and Flowerpaw their apprentice names. The nursery was em pty now, and Grassheart had returned to her warrior duties.
Snakepaw had recovered quickly from the sickness once Puddleshine had adm inistered the lungwort. Violetpaw could glim pse the honey -colored tabby now, ly ing in a strip of sunshine beside the clearing while Whorlpaw and Flowerpaw practiced stalking in the long grass behind her.
“How are they?” Scorchfur’s urgent question m ade Violetpaw j um p. She turned and saw the dark gray tom swagger into the den, a frown in his eyes. He must have come to check on Snowbird and Yarrowleaf.
Puddleshine turned to face the tom. “Snowbird’s breathing is much better,” he reported. “And
Yarrowleaf is well enough to leave her nest when she feels rested.”
Yarrowleaf opened her eyes. “Hi, Scorchfur.” She greeted her father weakly.
Scorchfur glowered at Puddleshine. “She doesn’t seem much better.”
“She’s just tired. A long sleep will—”
Scorchfur didn’t let the medicine cat finish his sentence. “She wouldn’t have gotten sick at all if Rowanstar had acted sooner. And she’d have had the lungwort quicker if Crowfrost hadn’t given away our hostage.”
Puddleshine blinked at the tom. “That’s not true. Bramblestar said that Onestar refused to cooperate even when he knew we had Twigpaw.”
“And why would Bramblestar tell us the truth? It was his apprentice we held.” Scorchfur scowled at him.
Snowbird swallowed another m orsel of sparrow. “Go easy on him, Scorchfur. Puddleshine has been a lifesaver. More would have died without him.”
Scorchfur grunted. “And no cat would have died if we’d had stronger leaders.”
Violetpaw narrowed her eyes. Who in the camp could have been stronger than Rowanstar and Crowfrost? The tom seem ed determ ined to be dissatisfied. Perhaps he had been hoping to take
Tigerheart’s place as deputy, and he was only expressing his resentm ent.
Lionpaw broke into her thoughts. The young she-cat stuck her head through the den entrance.
“How’s Pinenose?” She blinked at her mother anxiously.
Puddleshine padded toward his littermate. “She’s much better today.”
Spikefur’s mew sounded outside. “She’ll get well quicker if you stop pestering her, Lionpaw.”
“I’m not pestering—”
“Spikefur!” Pinenose called eagerly to her mate.