River, page 3
Mothwing gave her a sideways glance. “Well, first you’ll meet the other medicine cats,” she meowed. “They’re a friendly bunch, on the whole. I mean, Shadowsight from ShadowClan is seriously weird, but he’s a brave cat, and Jayfeather . . .” She let her voice trail off, then began again. “Jayfeather is ThunderClan’s senior medicine cat. He’s blind, and don’t think that makes him any less skillful. He might be snarky with you, but you mustn’t let him upset you. He’s snarky with every cat, but if I were sick or in trouble, there’s no cat I would rather turn to for help.”
Frostpaw privately thought that Jayfeather sounded intimidating, whatever Mothwing might say. “So what happens after that?” she mewed.
“We’ll exchange news of our Clans,” Mothwing told her, “and then I’ll present you to StarClan as a RiverClan medicine-cat apprentice.”
Frostpaw let out a gasp. “You mean I’m going to see StarClan?”
“Not right then,” Mothwing responded. She paused for a moment as they padded around a clump of gorse bushes, then added, “We just know they’re listening, right? After that, all the cats will gather around the pool, and we’ll put our noses to the water.”
“Me too?” Frostpaw’s question came out as a squeak, and she ducked her head in embarrassment.
“You too,” Mothwing confirmed. “That’s when you might be able to see StarClan.”
“That’s so exciting!” Frostpaw breathed out. She had almost forgotten the weariness in her legs and the harshness of the stiff grass under her pads “What is it like?”
A couple of heartbeats passed before Mothwing replied. “I can’t tell you. It’s different for every cat.”
While she was speaking, Frostpaw remembered what she had overheard some of the RiverClan warriors say. “Is it true that you don’t talk to StarClan?” she asked, then grew hot with dismay that she had dared to ask the question.
Again Mothwing hesitated before she answered. “Yes, it’s true.” Her voice was crisp, but not angry. “The other medicine cats will help you with that if you need it,” she finished.
Frostpaw went on thinking about that as she trudged on up the moor. She hoped that Mothwing was right, because she could see that she was going to need a lot of help. She had always imagined training to be a warrior like her littermates; all three of them had watched the apprentices and tried to imitate their battle moves. She had never thought for a single heartbeat that StarClan would choose her to be a medicine cat.
By now the last of the daylight had died away; the first warriors of StarClan were appearing in the sky, and a half-moon shed its cold light over the moor. The wind had grown chilly, and Frostpaw shivered as it probed deep into her pelt.
Her paws were beginning to feel sore, but Frostpaw didn’t want to ask Mothwing how much farther it was to the Moonpool. She gazed up at the crest of the slope they were climbing; it seemed a very long way away. This has to be the last hill before the Moonpool, she told herself. But when they reached the top of the rise, all that lay in front of her was more moorland, fold after fold of it, as far as she could see. All that broke up the stretch of tough grass was an occasional outcrop of rocks, and here and there a twisted thornbush.
“It’s . . . big,” she mewed, her spirits sinking a little.
“It is. But we don’t have much farther to go.” Mothwing’s tone was brisk but comforting. “Why don’t I test you on the herbs I showed you yesterday? That should take your mind off it and make the time pass more quickly.” Without waiting for Frostpaw to respond, she continued, “What would you use for rubbing on sore paws?”
“Dock leaves,” Frostpaw answered. I wish I had some here. “Those big, dark green leaves that grow by the stream near your den.”
“Very good. And what would you do for a cough?”
“Oh . . . catmint. Tall plants with pale purple flowers. And sometimes, if there’s none in our territory, we can find it in Twoleg gardens.”
Mothwing let out an approving purr. “You’ve remembered well. But what if we can’t find any catmint? What would you use for a cough then?”
Frostpaw thought hard. She remembered Mothwing telling her this, but she couldn’t remember the name of the herb. “Chervil root?” she guessed at last.
Mothwing sighed, with an impatient twitch of her tail. “No, tansy,” she meowed. “Or possibly coltsfoot, though catmint is the best. Chervil root is for bellyache. You need to remember these things, Frostpaw. Knowing how to find and use herbs for medicine is the most important thing a medicine cat does.”
“Yes, Mothwing,” Frostpaw responded. “I’m sorry.”
Anyway, communicating with StarClan is actually the most important thing that a medicine cat does, Frostpaw thought. I’m so looking forward to that! She was sure it would be more exciting than learning the names and uses of herbs.
She turned to Mothwing, almost ready to argue with her, but when she saw her mentor’s forbidding expression, she thought better of it.
To Frostpaw’s relief, before Mothwing could continue questioning her, they came to the foot of a steep, rocky slope. Frostpaw could pick up the scent of many unfamiliar cats wafting toward her on the breeze.
“Are we there?” she asked.
Mothwing nodded. “Yes. We just have to climb these rocks, and we’ll be above the Moonpool.”
Frostpaw scrambled up in Mothwing’s paw steps, feeling the slipperiness of the rock beneath her pads and trying not to think about what it would be like if she fell. In one particularly steep place, her short legs wouldn’t stretch to the next paw hold; Mothwing had to turn back, grab her by the scruff, and haul her up.
Just as if I were a kit! Frostpaw thought indignantly. And I’m not a kit anymore!
At the top of the rocks, Frostpaw found her way blocked by a line of thornbushes. The scent of cats was stronger now, and she could hear the rush of falling water, but she still couldn’t see any sign of a pool.
“Follow me,” Mothwing meowed, plunging into the bushes.
Frostpaw wriggled after her, trying to ignore the scratching of thorns through her pelt. I think I’m leaving half my fur behind!
Tearing herself free from the thorns, Frostpaw emerged from the bushes and halted in awe. In front of her, water poured down from the rocks in a never-ending cascade that glittered with starshine. It fell into a pool at the bottom of a deep hollow; the surface glimmered with the reflection of the half-moon. Frostpaw stood with her jaws gaping; Mothwing had told her about the Moonpool, but she had never imagined it could be so beautiful or so mysterious.
As Frostpaw recovered herself, she realized that several cats were gathered beside the water, and they were all looking up at her. For a moment she wanted to dive back into the bushes and race across the moor to the comfort and safety of the RiverClan camp and her nest in the medicine cats’ den.
“Come on,” Mothwing meowed, her tone bracing. “Don’t stand there like a stunned rabbit! Everything will be fine.”
Beckoning with her tail, she set off down the path that led to the water’s edge. Frostpaw realized that it formed a spiral, curving gently around the side of the hollow. As she followed her mentor, she felt her paws slipping into other paw marks that dimpled the surface of the stone.
These must have been made long ago, she thought, feeling every hair on her pelt rise in wonder. Who were the cats who made them? Where did they go?
Then she and Mothwing reached the bottom of the path, and she had no more time for thinking.
The other medicine cats gathered around Mothwing, greeting her and casting curious glances at Frostpaw, who made herself stand as tall as she could under their scrutiny, even though her legs wanted to fold underneath her and her head wanted to droop.
“This is Frostpaw, my new apprentice,” Mothwing announced, laying her tail across Frostpaw’s shoulders.
“Excellent!” a mottled brown tabby she-cat exclaimed. “You’ve been carrying a heavy burden lately, Mothwing, without Willowshine.”
Mothwing made no response except for a slight nod. Frostpaw guessed that she was still missing her fellow medicine cat, who had given her life in the fight against the impostor, Ashfur. And Mothwing can’t talk to StarClan. Frostpaw felt a sudden pang of sympathy. She’ll never see Willowshine again.
“Frostpaw, these cats are Frecklewish and Fidgetflake from SkyClan,” Mothwing began briskly. She gestured with her tail toward the she-cat who had spoken and a black-and-white tom.
Frostpaw dipped her head politely and murmured, “Greetings.”
“Then we have Puddleshine and Shadowsight from ShadowClan,” Mothwing continued.
Frostpaw examined the ShadowClan cats curiously. Puddleshine was a brown tom with white splotches on his pelt, and Shadowsight—the cat Mothwing had called weird—was a skinny gray tabby tom with dark stripes down his sides.
He doesn’t look weird to me, Frostpaw thought, although he has a lot of scars for a medicine cat. Maybe once I know him better, I’ll have a better idea of what Mothwing meant. Mothwing gave her a nudge, and Frostpaw realized that she had been staring. Embarrassed, she ducked her head and turned with relief to the next cats Mothwing pointed out.
“Here we have Kestrelflight and his apprentice, Whistlepaw, from WindClan,” her mentor meowed. “Whistlepaw hasn’t been training long.”
Frostpaw was relieved that she wouldn’t be the only apprentice. Kestrelflight, a mottled gray tom, gave her a cool nod, but Whistlepaw’s glance was warm and friendly. “Welcome,” she meowed.
“And last but not least,” Mothwing went on, “Alderheart and Jayfeather, from ThunderClan.”
Alderheart was a sturdy tom, his dark ginger fur fluffed up against the cold. There was a purr in his voice as he murmured, “Greetings.” Frostpaw instinctively liked him.
She couldn’t say the same for the scrawny gray tabby tom standing beside him. Jayfeather stared at her with blind blue eyes that nevertheless seemed to look right through her. It was hard to gaze back at him steadily.
Frostpaw was feeling overwhelmed at being in the presence of so many important cats, even though they had welcomed her. But I’m important, too! she realized suddenly. Or I soon will be.
Jayfeather was still examining her, his nostrils twitching as if he was committing her scent to memory. “Mothwing,” he meowed after a moment, “has StarClan given you some sort of sign that Frostpaw is their choice? RiverClan needs to be able to talk to their ancestors.”
Mothwing, who had turned aside to speak to Frecklewish, whipped around to face Jayfeather. “Yes, Frostpaw has had dreams sent by StarClan,” she snapped. “Thank you very much for your concern.”
Jayfeather’s only response was a grunt.
“Frostpaw, I hope you’ll follow in Willowshine’s paw steps.” Alderheart’s voice was solemn, but his amber eyes were kind. “And be a thoughtful and good-hearted medicine cat, just like her.”
Every cat fell silent for a moment. Frostpaw swallowed hard, remembering gentle Willowshine, who was the medicine cat she had known best all through her kithood. Mothwing had been absent for so long, exiled in the ShadowClan camp because she’d supported the two RiverClan warriors Mistystar had unjustly driven from the Clan.
“I promise I’ll try,” Frostpaw mewed huskily.
Several cats purred approval.
“So, what news in your Clans?” Jayfeather asked. “Let’s get this meeting moving. We’re wasting moonlight.”
Puddleshine launched into a complaint about Twoleg rubbish abandoned by the lake, and told of how a couple of young warriors had ended up with bellyaches from sampling Twoleg food.
Chervil root for that, Frostpaw thought, and was gratified to hear Mothwing suggest it, though Puddleshine, it turned out, had been treating his Clanmates with watermint.
As a discussion broke out, Frostpaw felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and turned to see Whistlepaw standing beside her. “Are you okay?” the WindClan apprentice asked, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the others. “It can be a bit scary, your first time.”
Frostpaw nodded, feeling shy even with Whistlepaw; the gray tabby she-cat looked so much older and bigger than her. “I’m fine,” she whispered.
“It’ll be good to have another apprentice here,” Whistlepaw continued. “I’ve only been training for a few moons. I started out as a warrior apprentice.”
Frostpaw’s eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t know you were chosen by StarClan?”
“Not at first. But then I helped Kestrelflight when he was treating some sick cats, and he offered to train me. That was when I realized that the weird dreams I’d been having were actually StarClan trying to get in touch with me.”
“And you get to talk to StarClan now?” Frostpaw asked.
“Yes, at these Moonpool meetings,” Whistlepaw replied. “It’s so amazing! Barkface, who was Kestrelflight’s mentor, has come to me a couple of times, and he’s already taught me a lot.”
Frostpaw blinked up at her, massively impressed. Whistlepaw seems so nice. I’m glad we’ll be learning together.
“And do you see—” she began, only to break off as Mothwing padded to her side and patted her on the shoulder with one paw.
“That’s enough talk for now,” she mewed. “Come on, Frostpaw. It’s time for your apprentice ceremony.”
Mothwing led Frostpaw to the side of the Moonpool, facing the shimmering cascade of water, while the other medicine cats gathered around.
“Frostpaw,” Mothwing began, gazing deep into her eyes, “is it your wish to share the deepest knowledge of StarClan as a RiverClan medicine cat?”
Frostpaw felt as though a tough bit of prey were lodged in her throat. At first she thought that however hard she tried, no words would come; she was so nervous, wondering if StarClan was really watching her right now. Then she realized that every cat was waiting for her. She gulped and responded, “It is.”
“Warriors of StarClan,” Mothwing continued, “I present to you this apprentice. She has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant her your wisdom and insight so that she may understand your ways and heal her Clan in accordance with your will.” She paused for a moment, her eyes deep with memory, and Frostpaw wondered whether she was thinking about her previous apprentice, Willowshine, and how they could never talk together again. Then Mothwing gave her ears a determined twitch, and announced, “From now on, this cat will be known as Frostpaw.”
A thrill of excitement passed through Frostpaw. Mistystar had given her her apprentice name a half moon earlier, when Mothwing had chosen to begin training her, but tonight was the first time she’d heard it spoken outside her Clan. She half expected the other medicine cats to call it out as cats did in the Clans when kits were made warrior apprentices. But instead, all of them stood listening in solemn silence.
“Now, Frostpaw, come to the very edge of the water and crouch down so you can touch the water with your nose.”
As Frostpaw took the place on a flat rock her mentor indicated, the other medicine cats found their own places at the edge of the pool. Only Mothwing—and, to Frostpaw’s bewilderment, Shadowsight—sat farther back.
Frostpaw still wasn’t sure what she should do, until Whistlepaw, who was crouching beside her, gave her a friendly nudge. “Like this,” she whispered, craning her neck forward so that she could touch her nose to the water.
Copying her, Frostpaw stretched forward until her nose brushed the surface of the pool. It’s so cold! For a while she watched the reflections of the stars and the half-moon, until she felt her eyelids drooping.
As her eyes closed, she began to see the faces of other cats, swirling past her as if they were caught up in a river. At first she didn’t recognize any of them, until she spotted a gray she-cat she was sure was Willowshine.
Warm happiness flooded through her; she was relieved, too, because she knew how important it was to be able to talk to StarClan—especially for her, since Mothwing couldn’t. Now she would really be able to help her Clan.
I’m going to be a real medicine cat! The medicine cat RiverClan needs!
Chapter 3
Sunbeam stretched herself out on a flat rock in the ShadowClan camp, enjoying the warmth of the sun’s rays filtering through the branches of the pine trees. Beside her, Blazefire groomed her shoulder with firm rasps of his tongue.
I feel so happy, so safe, here with Blazefire, she thought, looking up into his face. And we’ll be mates soon; that will be even better.
“How was the dawn patrol?” she asked him sleepily. “Any sign of trouble?”
Blazefire shrugged, his ginger-and-white pelt rippling. “Not a whisker. So you can go on sunning yourself as long as you like. You know,” he added teasingly, “you’ve got the right name, Sunbeam. I’ve never known a cat who liked lazing in the sun as much as you do!”
Sunbeam flicked his nose with her tail. “I’m sure I’ll get an apprentice soon,” she meowed. “Then I’ll have to run around after them all the time.” When Blazefire did not respond, she continued, “It’s still a ways off, but in a few moons, Dovewing and Tigerstar’s kits will need mentors. And Cinnamontail will have her kits with Slatefur any day now.”
“Well, I hope it’s a good long time before I get an apprentice,” Blazefire declared. “I like being able to do what I want, when I want.”
“Oh, you’re such a rebel!” Sunbeam let out a small mrrow of laughter. “But still,” she added more seriously, “we’ll be helping the Clan by training apprentices, and that’s important.”
“That’s exactly what Tigerstar would want you to say,” Blazefire meowed, nudging her with his shoulder. “What a perfect little ShadowClan warrior you are!”
Sunbeam’s pelt prickled with embarrassment; she wasn’t sure whether Blazefire was teasing or not. Sometimes she worried that she was too caught up in following the rules. And when Blazefire teased her, she was never sure how serious he was being. To her relief, before the awkward moment could stretch out further, Lightleap bounced over to them, her tail waving enthusiastically.
