No, not something . . . Some cat.
As the glow began to fade, Rootpaw was able to make out the cat’s features. He was a small, skinny tom with sleek black fur and intense yellow eyes. Rootpaw had the strange sense he had glimpsed him before, and he was sure of one thing. This cat is dead.
“Who are you?” Rootpaw asked.
“There’s no time to explain,” the ghost cat responded. “You have to come with me—now.”
“What?” Rootpaw yowled so loud that he was afraid he had woken Wrenpaw, but the younger apprentice never stirred. “I can’t! I have my warrior assessment at sunrise. I can’t miss it for anything.”
The ghost cat was already heading toward the mouth of the den. Glancing back over his shoulder to look at Rootpaw, he asked, “Not even to save your friend’s life?”
His words brought Rootpaw upright, out of the den, and across the camp into the forest, as if he were being pulled along by an invisible tendril. I have no idea who this is, he thought, but could he be talking about Shadowsight? Is it possible that Shadowsight is still alive?
The dawn light was strengthening as the ghost cat led Rootpaw to the border with ThunderClan, and straight across it, ignoring the scent markers. Gulping nervously, Rootpaw followed.
I really hope we don’t meet the ThunderClan dawn patrol.
When he sniffed the air, all the ThunderClan scents were stale, but Rootpaw still kept his senses alert as he padded through the rival Clan’s territory, ready to leap up into the nearest tree if he caught even the faintest trace of an approaching ThunderClan cat.
Is this ghost really leading me to Shadowsight? Rootpaw asked himself. And is the ghost cat right, that his life is in danger? He had never heard of any cat daring to miss their warrior assessment. Oh, I hope it’s true, or I’ll be in so much trouble, and all for nothing!
Eventually the sun came up, casting long golden rays across the forest floor. Rootpaw felt a tightening in his chest, knowing that at that very moment Dewspring would be heading to his den to tell him it was time. But he’ll find my nest empty. Rootpaw’s only hope was that when he returned to camp and explained what happened, Dewspring would forgive him and give him another chance.
“Is it much farther?” Rootpaw called to the cat in front of him. His paws were beginning to ache.
“No, we’re almost there,” the spirit replied, not turning to look at him.
A few heartbeats later, Rootpaw began to pick up the scent of something bad, like prey that had been left out too long in the sun. “What’s that?” he muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose.
At the same moment, the ghost cat halted at the edge of a narrow ravine. Rootpaw padded up to join him and immediately spotted why he had been brought there. His belly clenched as he saw Shadowsight’s body, sprawled out beside a thornbush near the bank of the small stream that ran along the bottom of the ravine.
Rootpaw realized that the bad smell was coming from Shadowsight, but he couldn’t detect the scent of death. Shadowsight appeared to be unconscious; deep, swollen scars marred his pelt, which was matted with dried blood. He looked terribly frail, as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Rootpaw padded along the edge of the ravine, desperately searching for a way to reach his friend. Eventually he spotted a ledge that led downward, though it looked too narrow for his paws.
I have to give it a try.
Nervously, Rootpaw ventured onto the ledge, pressing up against the rock face and trying not to think of the sheer drop on the other side. After he had followed it for a few paw steps, it began to grow even narrower, until it vanished altogether.
Now what do I do? I can’t even turn around safely. StarClan, don’t let me be stuck like this!
Just below Rootpaw an elder bush jutted out of the side of the ravine. Its branches looked too thin to support his weight, but Rootpaw didn’t think he had any choice. Bunching his muscles, he launched himself onto it; the branch swayed wildly, but from there Rootpaw could leap to an outcrop of rock and then to a twisted root just above the stream.
Finally Rootpaw jumped down the last tail-length and rushed over to Shadowsight, pressing his ear to his friend’s body. Relief flooded over him as he detected a faint heartbeat and saw Shadowsight’s chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
“He’s alive!” he cried out happily.
The ghost cat, who had appeared beside him, let out a scornful huff. “Of course he’s alive. Why do you think I brought you here? But you can probably smell that his wounds are infected, and it’s getting worse.”
“I’ll fetch help,” Rootpaw promised. “I’ll be back before you know it. Hang in there, Shadowsight!”
Rootpaw scrambled back to the top of the ravine with far less caution than he had used coming down, and raced through the forest back to the SkyClan camp. I’ll find Fidgetflake. He’ll know what to do.
But before he could reach the medicine cats’ den, Dewspring loomed up in front of him. Intent on his mission, Rootpaw hadn’t noticed him, and had to skid to a halt to stop himself colliding with his mentor.
“There you are!” Dewspring yowled. “I’ve been looking for you all morning. I thought you wanted to be a warrior.”
“I do!” Rootpaw panted. “But—”
“Skipping your assessment is a funny way of showing it,” Dewspring snapped, his eyes narrowed with fury. “Has all your training been a big waste of time?”
“I’m sorry,” Rootpaw meowed. “I know how angry you must be. But I had a good reason—really I did. I’ve found Shadowsight, and he’s hurt!”
Dewspring’s anger gave way to confusion. “Shadowsight?” he asked. “What is he doing on SkyClan territory?”
“He’s not,” Rootpaw explained. “He’s in the forest just over the ThunderClan border.”
Dewspring gave Rootpaw a hard stare. “And what were you doing all the way over there, on ThunderClan territory?
“I’ll explain later!” he meowed, realizing that thanks to this delay, he probably didn’t even have time to go find Fidgetflake now. “Shadowsight is seriously wounded. We have to bring him back to camp right away!”
Dewspring hesitated for a moment, then gave Rootpaw a brisk nod. “Show me where Shadowsight is. If he’s as badly hurt as you say, there’s no time to spare!”
Rootpaw bounded through the forest, following his own scent trail back to the ravine, with Dewspring hard on his paws. He showed Dewspring the way down he had taken to reach Shadowsight, and his mentor scrambled down after him. There was no sign of the ghost cat; Rootpaw guessed he had only appeared long enough to call for help.
In the time it had taken Rootpaw to fetch Dewspring, Shadowsight seemed to have grown even weaker. His breath was coming in thin wheezes and rattles, his chest convulsing as if it was taking him a massive effort to breathe at all.
“How will we ever get him out of here?” Dewspring asked, gazing up at the top of the ravine. “There’s no way we can carry him the same way we came down.”
“We have to figure it out,” Rootpaw responded. “Stay with him; I’ll go look for another path.”
He set off up the ravine, in the opposite direction from the way he had come on his first visit. But both sides rose up like almost-sheer cliffs; there were enough paw holds for a cat on his own, but not for one who had to carry Shadowsight.
Rootpaw was almost ready to give up and try the other direction again when he spotted a place where a few larger boulders had rolled down into the ravine, creating a path stretching almost to the top.