River, page 17
The murmur grew louder, and Flamepaw could feel excitement tingling in the air. He guessed that many cats had accepted the idea of the changes without thinking that anything would actually happen, and not realizing what upheaval this would cause in the life of the Clans. He hadn’t expected that cats would want to take advantage of the changes, certainly not as soon as this. He wondered whether he would ever care enough about a she-cat to leave his Clan for her.
In the confusion, Berryheart of ShadowClan sprang to her paws and raised her voice to be heard above the tumult. “I know it was agreed that cats would be given a chance to follow their hearts to a new Clan,” she began, “but I didn’t think any cat would jump at the chance so quickly.”
Leafstar gazed down at her with sympathy in her amber eyes. “I’ve spoken with Fringewhisker,” she assured the dismayed she-cat, “and this wasn’t a decision she came to lightly. As much as she loves SkyClan, she loves Spireclaw more, and she’s willing to do whatever it takes to be with him.”
Berryheart was obviously trying to hide her irritation, but she couldn’t prevent her tail-tip from whipping to and fro. Of course—she’s Spireclaw’s mother, Flamepaw remembered. This matters to her.
Before Berryheart could say any more, Spireclaw leaped to his paws and faced her. “Fringewhisker is a great cat,” he declared. “She’ll be an asset to ShadowClan.”
Berryheart turned her head to glare at him. “That’s not for you to say,” she snapped. “You haven’t got the sense of a day-old kit.”
“That’s enough,” Tigerstar broke in from where he sat on the branch of the Great Oak. “These arguments belong in our own camp, not at a Gathering.”
Spireclaw looked embarrassed and dipped his head to his Clan leader before he sat down again. But Berryheart still remained on her paws.
“I understand how Fringewhisker could want to change,” she went on curtly. “Any cat would be lucky to be with my son Spireclaw. But I have to ask: Are cats being too quick to give up on finding love within their own Clans? And if cats are that eager to change Clans for love, how long will it be before they start finding other reasons to change? How long before there’s so much change that there are no real Clans anymore?” She paused, the anger draining from her voice to be replaced by deep uncertainty. “I love the pride of ShadowClan. I love the way we do what we want and we don’t need to rely on any other Clan. Leaving my Clan to follow Darktail was the biggest mistake I ever made. It means everything to me that I am now a true ShadowClan warrior, and it frightens me to think that I might be in danger of losing that.”
At Berryheart’s words the noise died into an uneasy silence. With no comment from the Clan leaders, the cats in the clearing began to break up into small groups, discussing what the ShadowClan she-cat had said in lowered, intense voices.
Flamepaw stayed where he was, thinking over what he had just heard. If ShadowClan could change, he thought, then so could ThunderClan. Would it matter to me? he asked himself. If ThunderClan weren’t ThunderClan anymore? Do we even have anything that makes us special—or did we throw it away like a piece of crow-food when we thought Ashfur was our leader?
“That’s just typical ShadowClan!”
The exclamation distracted Flamepaw from his thoughts; he turned his head to see a group of senior warriors from his own Clan. The speaker was Thornclaw; his tabby fur was bristling as he glared at Berryheart.
“Who do they think they are?” he continued. “Talking like they’re the best Clan in the forest!”
“Well, every Clan thinks they’re the best Clan,” Whitewing mewed, laying a calming tail-tip on Thornclaw’s shoulder.
“Yeah, but when we say that, we’re right!” Bumblestripe grumbled. “But we won’t be, not for long, if the other Clans steal all our best warriors.”
“And send us the lazy ones and the troublemakers,” Thornclaw agreed.
Flamepaw edged even farther into the shadows, disgusted with his Clanmates and hoping that he could avoid talking to them or any other cat. Looking around, he could see that he wasn’t the only one. At the far side of the clearing he spotted the brown-and-white tabby she-cat he remembered from the previous Gathering—the ShadowClan warrior who had told him he didn’t look like a Flamepaw. She looked just as miserable as he felt, staring fixedly at her own paws.
I wonder what’s going on with her.
But Flamepaw’s attention was distracted from the she-cat by whispering voices much closer to him.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Why hasn’t he been made a warrior yet?”
“Well, we could just ask him.”
Looking up, Flamepaw saw a group of young cats eyeing him curiously. He didn’t recognize them, but from their skinny forms he thought they must be from WindClan.
Flamepaw certainly wasn’t going to answer their questions. Rising to his paws, he slunk along the line of the bushes until he came to a narrow gap leading to a spit of land hidden by shrubs and looking out over the lake. It was a peaceful spot to sit and brood, until he heard the shrubs rustling as another cat pushed their way through.
“This spot is taken,” he snapped without looking up. “So just beat it, okay?”
“You don’t own this spot,” an annoyed voice informed him. “I have as much right to be here as you do.”
Flamepaw turned his head to see the brown-and-white ShadowClan she-cat, her expression furious and sad all at once. “I’m sorry,” he mewed, letting out a sigh. “I just wanted to be alone.”
“So did I,” the ShadowClan cat responded. “I didn’t know this spot was here, but it’s perfect for hiding out.” She sat beside him and tucked her paws under her. “It’s Flamepaw, isn’t it?”
Flamepaw nodded. “I don’t know your name.”
“I’m Sunbeam. Though, to be honest, I feel like I should be Raincloud right now.”
“What is it you’re hiding from?” Flamepaw asked her. “I thought you looked kind of upset when they were talking about leaving your Clan for love.” Maybe that’s her problem? “Did it have anything to do with . . . well, that?” he asked hesitantly.
“Was it so obvious?” Sunbeam asked, giving her chest fur a few embarrassed licks. For a moment Flamepaw thought she wouldn’t reply, as if she didn’t want to share her feelings with a complete stranger. Then she gave a tiny shrug and continued, “I thought I was going to be mates with Blazefire, but now he’s backed out, and he’s hanging around with the cat who was my best friend all the time. They say they don’t want to be mates, and I believe them, but I’ve still lost my friend and the cat I love, all at the same time.”
“That’s tough,” Flamepaw murmured sympathetically.
“And that’s not all,” Sunbeam went on. “Now I’ve just found out that my brother Spireclaw has been secretly padding after Fringewhisker from SkyClan, and he never told me. And my parents are furious about it—especially Berryheart.”
“It could be worse,” Flamepaw suggested. “Spireclaw could be the one to leave his Clan and go to hers.”
“I know,” Sunbeam sighed. “But if Fringewhisker comes to us, Spireclaw will be too busy with her to think about me, and my parents will be too angry to talk. I feel so alone.”
“I’m not surprised. That’s just awful.” Flamepaw felt anger gathering inside him again, not for himself this time, but for the ShadowClan she-cat who had been so badly betrayed. “Maybe we should do what Fringewhisker and Fernstripe are doing,” he suggested, only half joking. “Look for a cat in another Clan to fall in love with, and leave our own Clans behind.”
Sunbeam let out a snort. “I doubt my mother would be okay with that,” she meowed. “It’s bad enough that Fringewhisker is going to try to join ShadowClan to be with Spireclaw. You heard what Berryheart said just now—you know she’s our mother, right? I’m sure she doesn’t want to have SkyClan kin. Not that there’s anything wrong with SkyClan, but obviously our mother would rather Spireclaw found a mate in our own Clan, just like I wanted to be mates with Blazefire. But I guess neither of us will get what we want.”
Flamepaw shot her a sympathetic glance. “It’s Blazefire’s loss,” he declared. “I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a great cat.”
“Thank you.” Sunbeam looked up at him, blinking gratefully. “That’s kind of you. So why are you here?” she added after a moment. “What is your problem?”
“I failed my assessment,” Flamepaw confessed. “For the second time. I really don’t think it was my fault, but Squirrelflight still persuaded my mentor to fail me.” He flexed his claws in frustration. “It’s so unfair! I know I have what it takes to be a warrior, but here I am, still stuck as an apprentice.” Putting it into words just made the pain bite more sharply; Flamepaw wondered how he could go on enduring it. “If I fail again,” he confessed, half surprising himself, “I don’t think I’ll want to be part of the Clan at all.”
“That’s so wrong.” Sunbeam’s voice was understanding, but she wasn’t fussing over him like a mother cat whose kit had a thorn in its paw. “I’m sure you’ll pass next time, and you’ll be able to put all this behind you.” She paused, then added, “But you have every right to be angry now.”
Flamepaw gazed at her. No cat in his own Clan had said this to him. They all act like my problems are my own fault. But here was a cat from a different Clan, a cat who really saw him, who knew what he was going through. It feels so great to be understood, but she’s a ShadowClan cat, so I might not get to talk to her again.
His throat felt choked up, but he managed to whisper the words. “Thank you.”
Chapter 20
The full moon rose high above the hills, casting its silver light over the tough moorland grass, as Frostpaw headed to the Moonpool with Splashtail by her side.
“Are you sure you want to do this without the other medicine cats?” he asked her gently.
More than anything, Frostpaw wanted to answer, “No,” and race back to the safety of her den in the RiverClan camp. The thought of what she had to do weighed on her as heavily as if she were trying to carry a fox on her shoulders, but she knew there was no way she could turn back.
“I have to,” she replied with a sigh. Duskfur, Curlfeather and Mothwing had decided that if she went to the Moonpool during the Gathering, there wouldn’t be much chance of another cat seeing her and wondering why she was going. And there was so much confusion in RiverClan, with no single cat in charge, that she hadn’t felt she had the right to argue. “I have to do this for our Clan.”
“You’re right, but it’s tough,” Splashtail agreed.
“Well, until we work out how we can choose a new leader, we can’t let any cat in the other Clans know what’s going on,” Frostpaw continued. She looked at Splashtail, wondering if she should comment on how supportive he’d been toward her lately. They’d been friends since they were young, but it still stung to think of how he’d insulted her on the patrol to find Reedwhisker. Maybe that helped him realize that I am capable, she mused. “It’s up to me to speak with StarClan and find out who our new leader should be. Only . . . what if I can’t do it?” All the fears Frostpaw had tried to banish came rushing back; she felt as if she were trying to stay on her paws in raging floodwater. “What if StarClan does send me a message, but I get it wrong? I’m only an apprentice, and what I say could affect the Clan for seasons.”
Splashtail laid his tail across her shoulders in a comforting gesture. “You should have faith in yourself,” he told her. “You’re a bright, talented medicine-cat apprentice, and StarClan wouldn’t guide you wrong.”
Grateful for his words, Frostpaw could only hope that he was right. In any case, she had no choice but to try. Besides, she told herself firmly, our Clan is full of worthy warriors who want to see RiverClan succeed. I’m sure that whoever I choose will step up to the challenge.
Finally Frostpaw and Splashtail scrambled up the rocky slope and halted beside the line of bushes that barred the entrance to the Moonpool hollow.
“You’ll have to wait here,” Frostpaw told Splashtail. “I have to do this part alone.”
“Sure.” Splashtail sat down and wrapped his tail around his paws. “Good luck, anyway. I’ll be right here waiting for you if you need me.”
Frostpaw dipped her head in thanks, feeling warmed by her friend’s support. She pushed her way through the bushes, then paused briefly at the top of the spiral path, her breath catching in her throat at the beauty that lay before her. She had never seen the Moonpool beneath a full moon before. The waterfall seemed like liquid light, and the surface of the pool glittered as the moving water broke up the reflection of the moon and stars.
Then Frostpaw gave her pelt a shake. I can’t stand here gawking like a kit when their eyes first open. But oh, StarClan, I’m so glad that I’ve seen this!
Shivering with a mixture of wonder and terror, she began to pad down the spiral path, feeling her paws slip into the paw marks of those cats from so long ago. It felt strange to be there on her own. Mothwing or Alderheart should have been taking the lead, or Jayfeather grumpily finding something to complain about. Instead, it was only her approaching the pool in the vast silence and shimmer of the night.
Frostpaw sat at the edge of the Moonpool and concentrated on quieting her mind so that she could commune with StarClan. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths, calling out with her thoughts to the spirits of her warrior ancestors. When she leaned forward and touched her nose to the cool water, she was sure she could hear a whisper of something in her ears. But she couldn’t quite make out the words.
The moments slid by as Frostpaw remained immobile, straining with all her senses to pick up some message—any message—from StarClan. At one point she heard a faint sound coming from somewhere above her, but it wasn’t repeated, and finally she accepted that it must have been a bird or some small animal scuffling about.
After what felt like moons, Frostpaw had to sit back, slumping in disappointment. Does StarClan have nothing to say? Or do they just have nothing to say to me?
She wondered what she would tell her Clanmates when she got back to camp without any word from StarClan. What would they think? Would Splashtail be the only one who still had faith in her abilities as a medicine cat?
Worry was coursing through Frostpaw from ears to tail-tip, but there was nothing more she could do. She rose to her paws, stiff from crouching by the water for so long, and began the slow climb up the spiral path to rejoin Splashtail.
But on her way upward, Frostpaw spotted something white in the grass beside the path. What could that be? She padded up to it and looked closer, realizing that it was a feather. A curled feather.
Frostpaw bent her head to sniff at the feather, then tasted the air, but all she could pick up was the scent of wild thyme that was growing all around. She gazed at the small scrap of white again, and wondered if she could discern a faint frosty glitter at the very edges.
Suddenly Frostpaw understood what she was seeing; her chest felt tight and her breath came short in her throat. StarClan doesn’t only speak in dreams and visions . . . they guide us through signs, too. And this is a sign! StarClan has spoken to me after all.
And the sign could not have been clearer. StarClan had placed a curled feather in exactly the right place for Frostpaw to find it. The only cat it could refer to was Curlfeather. Frostpaw’s mother was meant to be the next leader of RiverClan!
For a few moments Frostpaw stood rigid, as if she were a cat made of ice. Partly she felt surprise, but mostly she was transfixed by a huge sense of relief. Curlfeather was so capable; she would guide RiverClan just as she had guided Frostpaw and her littermates ever since they were born. I won’t have to feel so responsible anymore, because I know I can trust Curlfeather. Oh, StarClan, thank you for making everything all right again!
Excitedly, Frostpaw bounded up the path away from the feather and wriggled through the bushes to find Splashtail patiently waiting for her.
“Well?” he asked. “Did you get the answer you were seeking?”
Frostpaw nodded vigorously. She wanted to spill it all out, to tell her Clanmate about the wonderful thing that had happened, but she knew she wasn’t supposed to do that. “I have to tell Mothwing first,” she explained. “And then she’ll announce it to the Clan.”
To her relief, Splashtail didn’t press her to tell him. “That’s okay,” he mewed. “We’d better head out before it gets any later.”
Frostpaw thought that her paws would drop off by the time she leaped over the stream and climbed the bank into the RiverClan camp. By this time the sky was paling toward dawn; apart from Podlight, who was on watch, there were no cats out in the clearing.
“They’ll be sleeping off the Gathering,” Splashtail remarked, with a massive yawn. “I’m ready for sleep myself.”
“Thank you for coming with me,” Frostpaw meowed, touching his ear with her nose. “I’ll see you later.”
Frostpaw hurried across the camp and leaped down onto the stretch of pebbles outside the medicine cats’ den. Mothwing was just emerging, blinking and shivering in the chilly morning air.
“I did it!” Frostpaw announced excitedly. “StarClan has told me who the new leader should be.”
Mothwing twitched her ears and shook her head to dislodge a scrap of moss. “So? Who?”
“Curlfeather!” Frostpaw announced proudly.
She had expected praise from her mentor; instead, Mothwing looked surprised and a little doubtful. “Curlfeather . . . ,” she murmured. “I’m not sure I was expecting that.”
“You thought it should be some other cat?” Frostpaw asked anxiously. What other cat would be a better leader than Curlfeather?
“No, I just . . . No.” Mothwing sounded uncomfortable. “Are you sure that’s what StarClan said?” she continued after a couple of heartbeats. “They can be a bit vague sometimes. You’re not interpreting what they said in a way that makes your mother leader?”
“No!” Frostpaw was indignant that Mothwing would even suspect her of something so terrible as intentionally misinterpreting StarClan’s intentions in Curlfeather’s favor. “StarClan didn’t speak to me at all. They left me a sign instead—a curled feather beside the path that leads down to the Moonpool. You can’t get much clearer than that, can you?”
