River, page 11
“That may be true,” Curlfeather meowed. “But we need some sort of arrangement until we find Reedwhisker.”
“Frostpaw can speak to StarClan,” Podlight pointed out. “Even though she’s not a full medicine cat yet, maybe she can be their messenger, and pass on their wisdom to Mothwing.”
A tide of apprehension engulfed Frostpaw at the thought of so much responsibility, but before she could protest, a chorus of approval broke out at Podlight’s suggestion. From her Clanmates’ eagerness, Frostpaw realized that every cat was sick of arguing, and ready for any solution that would save the Clan if they were left without a leader.
Though Mothwing still didn’t look enthusiastic, she seemed to have no choice but to relent. “Very well,” she declared. “If we never find Reedwhisker, and if we ever find ourselves in the terrible situation of being leaderless, Frostpaw and I will lead the Clan until StarClan guides us to a new leader. But the thing that worries me most,” she continued, “is that we have no experience. What does every cat think of asking one of the other leaders for help?”
Almost before she could finish, the rest of the Clan yowled her down.
“Humble ourselves to another Clan?” Mallownose sounded shocked out of his fur. “Never!”
“It’s all speculation, in any case,” Mothwing reminded them defensively. “Reedwhisker will be back soon, and we’ll all forget that we ever had this discussion.”
Once again, Frostpaw drew away, trying not to imagine the dark future in which she would be burdened with the responsibility of leading the Clan. Even though it wasn’t happening—and wouldn’t ever happen—she could feel the weight of it on her back, pushing her down like an enemy who meant to drive the breath out of her.
Wrapped up in her worries, she jumped as Curlfeather appeared at her side. “What’s the matter?” her mother asked gently.
“I’m just afraid that the Clan is asking too much of me,” Frostpaw confessed. “I don’t know enough! I can’t be a leader—I can’t even give Mothwing the help she needs.”
“You don’t have to worry,” her mother murmured, giving her ear an affectionate lick. “If it ever comes to it, that you have to take on leadership as well as your medicine-cat duties, you know that I’ll always be here to help.”
Frostpaw relaxed a little at her mother’s loving words. However bad things were, at least she had her mother by her side. And it wasn’t as if it was ever likely to happen!
Chapter 12
The rising sun had not yet cleared the trees, and the air felt moist and fresh, with mist still lingering in shaded hollows. Sunbeam padded along the ShadowClan border beside Hollowspring and Hopwhisker. Though she had found it hard to wake up for the dawn patrol, she was glad of the distraction from her worries about Lightleap, and her frustration that Blazefire had refused to take her side.
It’s hard—Lightleap’s avoiding me, and I don’t want to talk to Blazefire right now, Sunbeam thought. I get along fine with Hopwhisker and my brother, but it’s not the same.
“I don’t expect we’ll run into trouble,” Hopwhisker, who was leading the patrol, meowed. “Everything has been so peaceful since we got rid of Ashfur.”
A soft growl came from Hollowspring’s throat. “We’ll never forget what that mange-pelt did to us. But now at least it feels as if the five Clans are closer than ever before.”
Hopwhisker nodded agreement. “Who knows?” she murmured. “Maybe one day soon there’ll be so much peace and stability, there won’t even need to be a border patrol.”
Hollowspring let out a mrrow of amusement. “You’re just hoping for that so you don’t have to leave your nice warm nest at dawn anymore.”
The patrol leader gave her Clanmate a playful shove. “I am not!” she insisted. “I wouldn’t like it at all. It would be so boring!”
“No,” Hollowspring insisted. “There would be more time for hunting and battle training.”
“Battle training?” Hopwhisker rolled her eyes. “There would be no point in battle training if everything was peaceful. We would just lie around getting fat and lazy. We might as well go and be kittypets!”
Sunbeam felt too depressed to join in the gentle teasing. “I have a horrible feeling there are always going to be enemies,” she declared. “There will always be cats who go bad.”
Hopwhisker and Hollowspring fell silent, staring at Sunbeam, before glancing at each other, then swiveling their gaze back to her.
“Great StarClan, you’re cheerful this morning!” her littermate Hollowspring meowed.
Sunbeam didn’t respond, and a moment later Hopwhisker signaled for silence as they approached the greenleaf Twolegplace that formed the border with RiverClan.
There were no Twolegs about this morning, but plenty of evidence that they had been there. Scanning the halfbridge that jutted out into the lake, and the stretch of open ground covered with hard, black Thunderpath stuff, Sunbeam could see Twoleg garbage strewn everywhere. The stink of it filled her nostrils.
“Just look at that!” Hollowspring explained. “It’s disgusting.”
“Why do they leave such a mess?” Sunbeam asked. “Do you suppose their dens are like that, too?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Hopwhisker grumbled. “But we ought to check it out—what if this mess is hiding prey?”
She padded forward to the edge of the open ground and began to nose at a crumpled white object like a huge leaf. A moment later she started back, letting out a yowl of pain and holding up one forepaw. As Sunbeam and Hollowspring raced toward her, she collapsed on one side and curled around herself, whimpering in agony.
When she reached her, Sunbeam noticed blood pouring out of Hopwhisker’s paw; looking more closely, she saw an ugly gash across her pads. “What happened?” she asked.
Hopwhisker pointed with her tail. “I cut it on that . . . thing.”
Underneath the crumpled leaf thing, Sunbeam spotted something hard and shiny, with an uneven edge sharper than a claw. “Twolegs!” she exclaimed. “I’d like to claw their pelts off. This isn’t the first time we’ve had trouble with their garbage.”
“Never mind that,” Hollowspring mewed. “We’d better get Hopwhisker to Puddleshine and Shadowsight right away.”
Sunbeam glanced back briefly in the direction they had come. “We’re closer to RiverClan than we are to our own camp,” she pointed out. “We should take Hopwhisker to Mothwing.” When Hollowspring gave her a dubious look, she added, “It’ll take forever to get her home like this, and there’s a good chance the wound will get dirty and infected. That will make it so much harder for the medicine cats to treat her. Mothwing will be quicker.”
“Quicker is good,” Hopwhisker hissed through clenched teeth. “This is really hurting.”
Hollowspring still looked doubtful; he took a couple of paw steps in the direction of RiverClan, scanning the undergrowth. Sunbeam followed him, then halted when a powerful wave of scent washed over her from the far side of the border.
“Smell that?,” Sunbeam mewed. “There must be a RiverClan patrol. I could ask them.”
“Okay,” Hollowspring agreed.
Sunbeam raced across the stretch of Thunderpath stuff. As she ran, she spotted two RiverClan cats facing each other among the undergrowth. “Hi, Lizardtail! Hi, Nightsky!” she called out to them. “Can you help us?”
The RiverClan warriors turned toward her, seeming startled. Sunbeam was puzzled; now that she had gotten closer, they didn’t look like cats on patrol. It was as if they had been having a tense conversation, and didn’t welcome the interruption.
Halting in front of them, Sunbeam dipped her head politely. “We have an injured warrior,” she meowed. “Please may we take her to Mothwing?”
Lizardtail and Nightsky exchanged a glance. “Why can’t you just take her back to ShadowClan?” Lizardtail asked.
Sunbeam was briefly disconcerted; she hadn’t expected such a cold response, not when the Clans were at peace. “Our camp is so far away,” she explained. “Hopwhisker has a deep wound on her paw that could get badly infected.” When the two RiverClan cats still hesitated, she added more urgently, “This is medicine-cat business, right? Medicine cats aren’t supposed to care about borders.”
Nightsky and Lizardtail exchanged a glance. Sunbeam thought that Nightsky in particular seemed agitated; both cats looked as if they would really like to refuse but couldn’t think of any way they could argue with what Sunbeam had just said. “Okay,” Nightsky meowed curtly.
Sunbeam raced back to where she had left her Clanmates. Between them, she and Hollowspring helped Hopwhisker to rise, and supported her across the border to where the RiverClan cats were waiting.
Lizardtail and Nightsky led them along the edge of the lake, in the direction of the RiverClan camp. Sunbeam was puzzled; she could still sense tension between the RiverClan warriors.
It can’t just be because we’re here. There was something going on with them before we even arrived.
Their escort led them to the place where one of the streams that surrounded the RiverClan camp flowed out of the lake. Nightsky halted on the bank.
“You can wait here,” she directed. “I’ll fetch Mothwing.” She bounded off before any cat could object.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Hollowspring meowed, looking after the dark gray she-cat with a confused expression on his face. “Why bring Mothwing out here, where she won’t have any supplies?”
Lizardtail’s only response was a shrug.
Not many moments had passed before Mothwing appeared, padding along the bank of the stream with her apprentice, Frostpaw, following her. Both cats carried leaf wraps of herbs in their jaws.
“Okay, Hopwhisker,” Mothwing mewed as she set her herbs down beside the injured cat. “Let’s take a look at this paw. Frostpaw, see if you can find some cobwebs. Among the roots of trees is a good place.”
Frostpaw darted off, while Mothwing bent her head over Hopwhisker’s wound and gave it a deep sniff. “Okay, lick it clean,” she continued. “I’ll make you a poultice of horsetail. That should help stop the bleeding.”
While Hopwhisker obeyed, Sunbeam exchanged an anxious look with Hollowspring. She could see in his eyes the same suspicion that she herself was feeling. It’s like something is going on in RiverClan—but what? Why don’t they want us to go into their camp?
While Mothwing was preoccupied, Sunbeam silently crept away, then leaped across the stream and climbed the bank. At the top she dived into the bushes and slid forward until she could peer into the RiverClan camp.
Not many of the Clan were out in the clearing, and they all seemed to have the same air of tension as Nightsky and Lizardtail. One or two were pacing to and fro, their tails flicking and their shoulder fur bristling. Others had their heads together, as if they were in serious discussion about something. No cat was doing anything useful, and there was no sign of Mistystar or her deputy.
This is all really weird . . .
As cautiously as if she were stalking a mouse, Sunbeam backed out of the bushes, then fled down the bank and back across the stream. Breathing a sigh of relief that no RiverClan cat had spotted her, she rounded a clump of ferns and almost collided with Frostpaw, who was tottering along on three legs with a thick wad of cobwebs clutched in her fourth paw.
Sunbeam fought back a flash of panic. “Sorry,” she mewed, steadying the apprentice and hoping that she wouldn’t ask her where she had been. As they padded together back to the lakeside, she went on, “Did it take Sneezecloud long to find Reedwhisker?”
Frostpaw gave her a startled look, as if she didn’t know what Sunbeam was meowing about—or maybe she did know, but had no idea how to answer.
“Oh, Reedwhisker is all good, thanks,” she replied at last. “We all are,” she added politely, “and I hope you are in ShadowClan, too.”
But that isn’t the question I asked, Sunbeam thought. If she hadn’t already suspected something odd was going on in RiverClan, she certainly did now.
When she returned to her Clanmates beside the lake, Mothwing had already applied the horsetail poultice to Hopwhisker’s paw.
“Oh, Frostpaw, that’s great,” the medicine cat mewed. “More than enough to bind up the wound. This will do for today,” she continued to Hopwhisker as she wrapped the injured paw, “but tell Puddleshine to take the cobweb off tomorrow and apply a new dressing. You’ll need to stay off it for a while.”
“Thank you, Mothwing,” Hopwhisker responded, struggling to her paws. “It feels better already.”
Sunbeam repeated her Clanmate’s gratitude. “And give our thanks to Mistystar, too, for allowing us on your territory,” she added. “You’ve been a great help.”
“Yeah—sure, Sunbeam.” Mothwing sounded unusually awkward, and the other RiverClan cats exchanged uneasy glances. “You’re very welcome.”
Padding back along the lakeside, helping Hollowspring to support Hopwhisker and keep her injured paw off the ground, Sunbeam was even more convinced that something was wrong in RiverClan. All the cats had seemed really edgy; surely they couldn’t still be feeling the effects of dealing with Ashfur. It was more like they were hiding something.
I wonder if I ought to tell Tigerstar, she asked herself. I feel like I should—but if I don’t know what the problem is, will I just be making more trouble? Besides, Tigerstar told me to watch my step. If I’m not careful, I’ll be making trouble for myself.
Chapter 13
Flamepaw padded through the thorn tunnel behind Lilyheart and the other two cats—Stormcloud and Twigbranch—who made up the hunting patrol. It was a cold, damp day, and the prey had all been hiding down in their holes; Flamepaw had only managed to catch a single vole. Stormcloud and Lilyheart had brought down a squirrel with a clever bit of teamwork, while Twigbranch had caught a mouse after stalking it patiently through the outskirts of a bramble thicket.
All that work, and not much to show for it!
Stormcloud led the patrol over to the fresh-kill pile to deposit their prey. The pile looked pretty scanty at this early hour of the morning; Flamepaw could only hope that the other patrols would have better luck.
“That’s not much of a haul.”
The voice was Bramblestar’s; Flamepaw turned around to see the Clan leader standing a few tail-lengths away, gazing disapprovingly at their catch.
“The prey wasn’t running well today,” Lilyheart explained, dipping her head to her leader.
Bramblestar didn’t look impressed. “The Clan still needs to eat,” he meowed. “Twigbranch—one mouse? Come on, you can do better than that!”
To Flamepaw’s surprise, Twigbranch crouched down in front of Bramblestar. Her ears lay flat and her eyes were wide and scared. “I’m—I’m sorry, Bramblestar,” she stammered. “I’ll go out again. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”
Without waiting for a response, she scurried off and disappeared into the thorn tunnel.
Stormcloud blinked nervously at Bramblestar. “It wasn’t her fault,” he protested. “None of us could—” He broke off, then added, “I’m going with her,” and bounded across the camp after Twigbranch.
Lilyheart, however, wasn’t at all intimidated by her Clan leader. “We can’t catch prey if there’s no prey to be caught,” she snapped, her claws flexing. “And Twigbranch got that mouse with the best bit of stalking I’ve seen in moons!”
“I wasn’t trying to—” Bramblestar began.
Lilyheart’s furious gaze told Flamepaw she was in no mood to listen. “Come on, Flamepaw,” she ordered, flicking her tail to beckon him. “We’ll go too.” As he followed her across the camp, she added, “We’ll try the abandoned Twoleg den. That’s usually good for a mouse or two.”
Before he plunged into the tunnel, Flamepaw glanced back over his shoulder. Bramblestar was gazing after them, a depressed droop to his tail. As Flamepaw watched, he turned away and began to trudge slowly up the tumbled rocks toward his den.
That’s seriously weird, Flamepaw thought. That’s no way for a Clan leader to behave. It’s almost like he’s forgotten how to lead. A pang of anxiety shook him from ears to tail-tip. Great StarClan, don’t let there be anything wrong with Bramblestar!
“Let’s think it through,” Finchlight meowed encouragingly. “What do you do when you want to catch prey?”
Flamepaw heaved a long sigh. He knew that his sister was trying to help, coaxing him to be more patient and to assess everything about his surroundings before creeping up on his prey. It was good to spend time with her, too. But even though she didn’t mean to, Finchlight was stirring up all his frustrations about his last assessment and how he had failed for the second time.
He and Finchlight were sitting together in the stone hollow, not far from the tumbled rocks that led up to the Highledge. Now and again the sun peeped out from between the clouds, but a chilly breeze had sprung up, rattling the branches of the trees at the top of the cliffs. Dead leaves whirled in the air; Flamepaw fluffed out his pelt against the cold.
“Is this going to be my life from now on?” he grumbled, half to himself. “Am I always going to be practicing for an assessment I’m never going to pass?”
Finchlight nuzzled his ear. “Of course you’re going to pass this time,” she told him, her voice bracing.
“Easy for you to say.” Flamepaw sighed. “It feels like ThunderClan just takes itself so seriously. I bet cats in other Clans aren’t as miserable as I am.”
His sister looked slightly taken aback, pausing for a moment before she responded. “It’s a good thing that ThunderClan standards are so high,” she insisted at last. “It’s what makes us the best Clan!”
“Huh!” Flamepaw grumbled. “Probably every Clan thinks they’re the best Clan.” He stopped himself from voicing his doubts that ThunderClan really was the best; he didn’t want to argue with Finchlight, not when she was trying to help him. But when she asked gently, “What’s wrong?” he realized that he hadn’t been able to hide how he felt.
