As he waited for the clamor to die down, Rootspring tried out his new name in his mind. He was a warrior at last. For so long, he had worried that his ability to see ghosts would separate him from his Clan. He’d been embarrassed by his difference from other warriors. But that difference had let him save Shadowsight, and had made him a warrior.
Rootspring accepted that he did see spirits, and he wanted to believe that what Leafstar had said was true: that his own spirit was strong and resilient. He wasn’t sure; he wished he felt that strong inside, but the whole episode with Shadowsight had shaken him. He hadn’t told any cat about the ghostly presence that had led him to Shadowsight’s body. That cat was still hanging around the camp; Rootspring had seen him several times.
What is he doing here? Rootspring asked himself. Is he waiting for Shadowsight to die? Then he shook his head. No! I won’t believe that. Shadowsight has to survive.
By now the circle of cats was breaking up into smaller groups, some of them heading for their dens or the fresh-kill pile, while others left the camp on patrol.
Needleclaw gave Rootspring a nudge. “Come on, I’ll find you a big, juicy piece of prey,” she urged him. “You deserve it.”
Rootspring was tempted, water flooding his jaws at the thought of a fat vole or a squirrel. But he shook his head. “I’ll join you later,” he responded. “There’s something I want to do first.”
“Okay.” Needleclaw flicked his ear with her tail. “I’ll save you something tasty.”
As she bounded off toward the fresh-kill pile, Rootspring saw that Leafstar and Tree were heading for the medicine cats’ den, where they joined Tigerstar. As all three cats vanished inside, Rootspring followed them.
Inside the den Fidgetflake was sorting herbs for Shadowsight, while Dovewing was crouched beside her son, cleaning his damp fur with long strokes of her tongue. “Come back to us,” she whispered lovingly into his ear. “We all need you.”
When Rootspring entered with the other cats, Dovewing looked up, warm welcome flooding into her eyes. “It’s good to see you again, Rootpaw,” she mewed.
“It’s Rootspring now,” Leafstar corrected her gently.
Dovewing let out a gasp. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “I’d forgotten that your warrior ceremony was today. Congratulations, Rootspring.”
Rootspring dipped his head humbly. “Thank you.”
Meanwhile, Tigerstar had approached Fidgetflake. “Has there been any change?” he asked, his voice taut with anxiety.
“His wounds are clean now,” Fidgetflake replied, “and they seem to be improving. That’s good.” In spite of his encouraging words, his face was somber as he glanced across at Shadowsight, and he shook his head a little. “I can’t tell you when he’ll wake. You’ll have to be patient and wait.”
Rootspring found himself a spot to sit close to Shadowsight’s head, relieved that every cat was too worried about the young medicine cat to ask him any more questions. He understood their fear, but he knew he would have a hard time explaining how he’d found Shadowsight.
I’d just make myself sound mouse-brained. At this point, they would have no trouble believing that a dead cat helped him find Shadowsight, but they would definitely question the wisdom of following a cat he didn’t even know without telling anyone where he was going. Rootspring suppressed a snort. Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
A few heartbeats later he was distracted from his thoughts when he saw Shadowsight’s ears twitch. Then he stirred, and his eyes slowly eased open.
“Look!” Dovewing exclaimed, the worry in her eyes giving way to joy. “He’s waking up!”
Tigerstar bent over his son; he said nothing, but he was purring so hard Rootspring thought his chest might burst open.
At first, Shadowsight looked dazed, peering from Rootspring to his parents and back again, his eyes clouded with confusion. “Have I returned?” he asked, his voice hoarse with disuse. “Am I really back?”
Rootspring wasn’t sure what his friend meant by that. “Back?” he echoed. “You’ve been here the whole time, ever since I found you.”
Shadowsight shook his head feebly, struggling to get to his paws but finding his legs unable to support his weight. He sank back into the nest. “No, you don’t understand. I wasn’t here. Well, I was, but I was other places too, and no one could see me—”
“Shhh,” Dovewing said, trying to soothe him. She looked helplessly at Fidgetflake. “Are you sure he isn’t feverish? He isn’t making any sense.”
Fidgetflake came forward, extending his paw to feel Shadowsight’s pelt, but Shadowsight pushed Fidgetflake’s paw away with his own.
“Please, listen to me!” Shadowsight urged. He took a long deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was a focus and urgency there that demanded attention. “I’ve been out of my body,” he explained. “And I’ve just been in the ThunderClan camp.”
“What were you doing there?” asked Rootspring.
Shadowsight exhaled in what seemed like relief that some cat was finally listening. “I spoke to Bramblestar . . . ,” he began haltingly. “He confessed that he was the cat who attacked me.”
Rootspring listened with growing horror as Shadowsight told how a strange cat spirit had emerged from Bramblestar’s body, gloating over how he had driven out the real Bramblestar and intended to go on living his life.
By the time Shadowsight had finished, he was exhausted, shivering and gasping for breath. Dovewing reached out a paw to touch his shoulder. “You’re still too weak for this,” she mewed. “Rest now.”
“No.” In spite of his weariness Shadowsight sounded determined. “I’m afraid that the cat inside Bramblestar has done something to the real Bramblestar’s spirit. We have to try to find him! If we don’t, Bramblestar may never be able to come back to his body.”
“Are you sure it isn’t too late?” Tigerstar asked.
“I’m sure,” Shadowsight asserted. “And I can prove it. Rootpaw, can you try to reach Bramblestar’s spirit? I know you did it once before.”
Rootspring knew that this was no time to explain his warrior name to Shadowsight. Every cat in the den turned their gaze toward Rootspring; he felt his belly flutter nervously under their intent stares.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “We’ve tried everything to find him, but nothing has worked. If he is still around, he’s not responding to me.”
Shadowsight’s expression never changed. His evident faith in Rootspring, despite his failures, was touching. “Will you try one last time?” he asked earnestly. “I have a feeling that if anyone can reach Bramblestar, it’s you.”
Rootspring sighed deeply. How could he say no when Shadowsight seemed to have such confidence in him? “I’ll try,” he meowed softly. He closed his eyes and concentrated on reaching out to Bramblestar with his mind. For a single heartbeat he felt something like a rushing wind, and his fur prickled as if he had been struck by lightning. He opened his eyes to see a soft glow lighting up the den, but it flickered out almost at once like a small flame in a breeze. Rootspring let out a long, disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Don’t be,” Tree meowed. “You definitely connected with something there. I could feel it.” Turning to Leafstar, he asked, “How much more proof do you need? Shadowsight and Rootspring are not liars. If they say that some spirit has taken over Bramblestar’s body, and that the impostor tried to kill Shadowsight—well, that’s what is true. No question.”
Leafstar was silent for a few heartbeats, looking as if she didn’t know what to believe. “Shadowsight has just woken up,” she pointed out at last. “He’s been seriously wounded, and what he’s said sounds . . . well, unbelievable.” She glanced at Tigerstar. “I’m not calling him a liar, but what if what he’s describing is a fever dream, not something he actually experienced? I can’t spread wild rumors about another Clan’s leader when they might be the result of a bad infection.”