River, page 6
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work at all,” Mistystar began, but by now no cat was listening to her.
“It’s a definite risk,” Mosspelt meowed, fluffing out her neck fur. “What does being a leader even mean anymore, if ordinary Clan cats can take it away?” She snorted in exasperation. “Don’t get me started on how the code tells us the leader’s word is the warrior code. How is that true if Clan cats can get rid of their leader?”
Frostpaw could see that Mistystar was at the end of her patience as she lowered her head and drew her lips back in a snarl. With an exclamation of alarm, Mothwing darted forward to stand beside the Highstump.
“I didn’t travel to the Dark Forest,” she declared, raising her voice so that every cat could hear her. “But I sat beside the Moonpool waiting for the cats who did go, and treating some of their injuries. I know that everything Mistystar has told us is true. Look . . . ,” she wheezed, letting her gaze travel over the assembled cats. “I haven’t always had the best relationship with StarClan. But I fully believe that Mistystar and the other Lights in the Mist spoke to StarClan about this. And they all agreed these changes were needed.”
Silence spread throughout the clearing, and for a moment Frostpaw thought that the gathered cats might be convinced. But then Duskfur thrust her way to the front of the crowd and turned to address the Clan.
“If you ask me,” she began, “it seems like more living cats should help decide the rules we live by. I’m not saying that Mistystar is trying to mislead us. But what’s so special about the Lights in the Mist? Who are they? Mistystar, Crowfeather, Shadowsight, Rootspring, and Violetshine. Why should they get to decide the rules for all the Clan cats? At least you’re a leader, Mistystar, but Shadowsight’s the cat who got us into the whole Ashfur mess, Crowfeather was a codebreaker himself, and I’m not sure I know enough yet about the SkyClan cats to trust them.”
Frostpaw had always known SkyClan as one of the lake Clans, but Duskfur’s words reminded her that they had only arrived a few seasons ago, during the time when Darktail invaded the forest. I suppose no cat really knows very much about them yet.
Mistystar lashed her tail in anger. “The Lights in the Mist were the cats brave enough to travel to the Dark Forest,” she hissed. “Which is more than some of you did. They battled Ashfur and saved all of us: StarClan, the Dark Forest, and the living world. After all the Lights in the Mist did and sacrificed, what right have you, Duskfur, to doubt their intentions? Bristlefrost and Graystripe gave their lives.”
Frostpaw could hear how upset the Clan leader was getting, but Duskfur didn’t seem aware of it, or she didn’t care.
“I’m not convinced the living world needed saving,” the brown tabby she-cat meowed. “There was fighting over the impostor, sure, but I seem to remember a time, Mistystar, when you had us fighting to defend him. Now you’re convinced that what he did was enough to upend the whole code?”
Mistystar’s fur was bushed up in fury, and Frostpaw could see her working her claws into the top of the stump, as if she were tearing apart a piece of prey. “Yes,” she admitted at last, an odd strain to her mew, “I was wrong to defend Ashfur when he was posing as Bramblestar. But, can’t you see, that’s why—”
The Clan leader broke off. Horrified, Frostpaw saw her face change as she lunged forward, fell from the Highstump, and collapsed in a heap on the ground.
Instantly Mothwing was by her side. “Mistystar, what’s wrong?” she asked, running her paws over Mistystar’s throat and chest.
“I need help.” Mistystar’s voice was such a feeble rasp that Frostpaw could barely make out the words.
“I’m here,” Mothwing mewed reassuringly. “Just lie still. Here—” She glanced around and spoke to the nearest cat. “Sneezecloud! Go and fetch water.”
Sneezecloud dashed off.
“What have you eaten lately?” Mothwing asked Mistystar. “Have you eaten?”
Mistystar turned her head a little and fixed her blue gaze on the medicine cat. “This isn’t about prey,” she murmured. Then her eyes closed and her whole body went limp.
“Where’s my apprentice?” Mothwing asked.
Frostpaw could hear the panic in her voice. Her own heart beating wildly, she wriggled her way through the crowd of cats. “Here I am, Mothwing. What do you want me to do?”
“Press down on her chest. Like this.” Mothwing demonstrated, her forepaws thrusting down so strongly that Frostpaw wondered if she might break the Clan leader’s ribs. Quickly she took Mothwing’s place and copied what she had done, putting out all her strength as she pressed Mistystar’s chest. Anxiety filled her as she remembered how Mothwing had shown her the technique just a few days before.
But I’ve never done it on a living cat before, she thought, anguished. Oh, StarClan, please let me get it right!
“That’s right,” Mothwing meowed, stooping over Mistystar’s head and parting her jaws to check that her throat was clear so she could breathe. “Again. And again. Keep at it. Hard—as hard as you can.”
Frostpaw did as she was told, her forelegs already beginning to ache. There was no sign that Mistystar was rousing. Her breathing was so shallow that Frostpaw wondered if each breath would be her last.
Meanwhile the alarm in Mothwing’s voice had spread to the other cats.
“What happened?” Brackenpelt asked.
Owlnose’s voice shook with anxiety. “Will she be all right?”
Minnowtail, who had listened to the whole argument in silence, rounded on Duskfur. “How could you?” she demanded, her voice filled with outrage.
“Step back a bit. Give her space to breathe,” Mothwing ordered. She was looking more and more distraught, her claws working in the ground and her ears lying flat.
“Can I fetch any herbs?” Frostpaw asked, pressing down again. “Maybe chervil?”
Mothwing shook her head. “It’s too late for herbs,” she whispered. “Mistystar is dying. You can stop pressing now,” she added to Frostpaw. “There’s nothing we can do to save her.”
Frostpaw stood back, trembling from the effort. Mistystar’s chest still rose and fell, but the movements now were so tiny that Frostpaw expected each one to be the last. Mistystar can’t be dying, she told herself, grief beginning to creep up on her like a cat stalking its prey. StarClan gave her nine lives. She tried to remember stories about when her Clan leader had lost lives in the past, but her brain was whirling too much to count. “Does she have any lives left?” she asked in a small voice.
Mothwing just shook her head. Frostpaw didn’t know whether she was saying No or I don’t know. A shudder passed through Mistystar’s body; as it faded away, Frostpaw waited for her to take her next breath. But it didn’t come. Heartbeats dragged by like seasons, and still it didn’t come. Gasps of horror could be heard from the assembled warriors, and some cat let out a drawn-out wail that echoed all around the camp. Sneezecloud returned with a mouthful of dripping moss and halted, staring at the Clan leader.
Duskfur and Owlnose exchanged a horrified glance. “She’s just getting her next life,” Duskfur meowed, though her voice was hollow, and Frostpaw could tell she didn’t really believe it. “She’ll wake up soon. You just wait and see.”
Mothwing stood motionless for a few moments, her gaze fixed on Mistystar. Then, finally, she stepped away, heaving a deep sigh. “She’s not coming back. I couldn’t help hoping, even though I was pretty sure she was on her last life. But she would have taken up her next one by now.”
Sadness enveloped Frostpaw like a dark cloud as she realized that Mistystar was truly dead. It was as though the lake had vanished overnight, leaving a hole in the landscape that could never be filled. Frostpaw had never known another RiverClan leader. She couldn’t imagine her Clan led by another cat.
More cats were beginning to wail as they gazed at Mistystar’s inert body and realized that she had no more lives left. Mothwing turned to Frostpaw, grief and desperation in her eyes.
“Frostpaw, you’ve walked with StarClan,” she mewed, her voice low and urgent so her Clanmates wouldn’t overhear. “You can speak to them, can’t you, and make sure Mistystar finds her way to them? Can you help her? It can’t just end this way. . . .”
Frostpaw was daunted by the thought that she could do anything for Mistystar or her devastated Clan. “I’ll try,” she murmured after a moment’s hesitation. She could see how upset her mentor was; whatever she could do would help Mothwing as much as Mistystar.
Reaching out to touch Mistystar’s still-warm paw, Frostpaw closed her eyes. With all the concentration she could summon, she sent out her mind, trying to reach out to StarClan.
At first, all Frostpaw could see were swirls of dark colors fading to lighter ones. After a while, she thought she could make out a glimmer of stars in the distance.
Help her, she thought. Please take Mistystar into your care.
For a while she still saw nothing more. Then a pair of bright green eyes appeared in front of her, along with a faint set of ears and whiskers.
“I hear you,” the cat mewed. “She is one of us now. Bury her body, and let her spirit walk with her warrior ancestors.”
Frostpaw opened her eyes and turned to Mothwing, quivering with joy at her success. “I did it!” she exclaimed. “Mistystar is safe in StarClan.”
Relief lit the depths of Mothwing’s amber eyes. “Oh, thank StarClan!” she breathed out. “What happened?” she added more forcefully. “Who did you speak with? Was it Mistystar herself? Or Willowshine? She’ll take care of Mistystar, I know.”
Frostpaw hadn’t been able to see the cat clearly, and now the details were blurring in her mind. Was it Willowshine? She tried to focus on the hazy image, to see if it matched her memory of the dead medicine cat. She wasn’t sure. But she knew how much it would comfort Mothwing to know that her leader was safe with her beloved former apprentice.
“Yes, I’m sure it was Willowshine,” she meowed.
Mothwing took a deep breath and leaped up to the top of the Highstump. “Cats of RiverClan,” she began, “our leader is dead, and we all grieve for her. But we can comfort ourselves in knowing that Mistystar is now in StarClan.”
“Are you sure?” Brackenpelt asked. “Frostpaw might have gotten it wrong.”
“Yeah, this is what happens when your medicine cat can’t speak to StarClan,” Owlnose added. “You have to rely on a half-trained apprentice!”
Several other cats called out their agreement. Frostpaw felt cold claws fastening in her belly at her Clanmates’ lack of trust in her.
Mothwing raised a paw to silence her Clanmates. “My apprentice, Frostpaw, is perfectly capable,” she announced in a voice like an icy wind off the lake. “She has spoken with Willowshine, who welcomed Mistystar into StarClan. Tonight we will sit vigil for our leader, secure in the knowledge that her spirit hunts with her warrior ancestors.”
Frostpaw could see her Clanmates relaxing; they were still sorrowful, but their desperate grief was fading. She felt herself relaxing, too; Mothwing’s words had clearly convinced the other cats that they could believe her.
“Well done, youngster,” Mosspelt meowed. She heaved a sigh as if it was hard to force the words out, then added, “You’re going to be a great medicine cat.”
Several others called out her name. “Frostpaw! Frostpaw!”
Conscious of every cat’s eyes turned toward her, Frostpaw ducked her head and gave her chest fur a few embarrassed licks. Even so, their praise warmed her. She looked around for Curlfeather, partly wanting her mother’s comfort after their leader’s death, and partly wanting her to see how well she had carried out her first real task as a medicine cat.
But Curlfeather was nowhere to be seen. Then Frostpaw remembered that she had gone out earlier with the hunting patrol. This is terrible, she thought. She’ll be so upset when she comes back and finds that Mistystar is dead.
“Where is Reedwhisker?” Mallownose asked. “He’ll be our leader now. He’ll have to travel to the Moonpool tonight to receive his nine lives from StarClan and become Reedstar.”
“He left on a hunting patrol,” Havenpelt meowed. “They should be back before long.”
“What terrible news to return to,” Icewing mewed, her blue eyes troubled. “Do you think we should send some cat to look for them?”
Mothwing shook her head. “We could spend all day looking and not find them. There’s nothing we can do now except wait.”
A pang of compassion for Reedwhisker pierced Frostpaw like a thorn. Mistystar was his mother; he would have to come to terms with her loss at the same time as taking on the responsibilities of leader.
But he’s a good cat, Frostpaw thought as she listened to the senior warriors and how they spoke of Reedwhisker with respect. He’s always been so kind to me. He will make a good leader.
Chapter 6
Sunbeam lay curled up in the medicine cats’ den, drowsily grooming herself and wondering when she would be allowed back to her warrior duties. Her foreleg was as strong as it had ever been, and the pain in her back was fading, though it could still startle her with a sharp twinge if she moved carelessly.
Puddleshine had gone out to collect herbs, leaving her with Shadowsight, who had brought in some fresh bedding and now was sorting through it to make sure it was free of thorns.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Sunbeam, not looking up from his task. “Do you want more poppy seed?”
“No, thank you,” Sunbeam replied. “When do you think I can go back to the warriors’ den?”
“Why, are you tired of me tripping over your tail?” Shadowsight’s voice was warm with humor. “Maybe you should keep your tail tucked in.”
“My tail is fine, thanks.” Sunbeam used the tip to flick a scrap of bracken at the back of Shadowsight’s head. “But it’s pretty boring here, without anything to do.”
“Well, when Puddleshine gets back, I’ll make you a fresh poultice of elder leaves,” Shadowsight promised. “That should help your wrenched muscles. Then in the morning we’ll examine you and make a decision.”
“Thanks, Shadowsight.” Sunbeam stretched her jaws in a massive yawn. “Do you know what will happen to Lightleap?” she asked after a moment. “You said you told Tigerstar about how I was injured.” Her whole pelt prickled with her sense of guilt. I promised Lightleap I wouldn’t tell any cat about what happened. I never thought Shadowsight would pass it on. “Will she be in trouble?”
“Probably,” Shadowsight responded, not sounding particularly worried. “But it’s no more than she deserves. If only she would talk more about how she’s feeling. When she couldn’t . . .” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, then added more firmly, “She should stop obsessing about how she couldn’t go into the Dark Forest.”
Is she trying to prove something? This wasn’t the first time that the thought had crossed Sunbeam’s mind. To all of us? Or to herself?
Before she could say more to Shadowsight, she heard paw steps outside the den, and a familiar voice called, “Can I come in?”
“Blazefire!” Sunbeam exclaimed, while Shadowsight replied, “Of course you can.”
Full of delight at seeing the white-and-ginger tom, Sunbeam felt herself relaxing. Blazefire always made her feel safe and at home. He padded across the den and dropped a plump mouse at her paws. “I caught it myself,” he mewed.
“Oh, thank you! I’m starving.” Sunbeam gave Blazefire a glowing look before tearing off a mouthful of the mouse. When she had taken the edge off her hunger, she asked, “So what exciting things did you do today, with no cat to tell you what to do?”
For a couple of heartbeats, Blazefire was quiet, and Sunbeam was worried that somehow she had said the wrong thing. But then Blazefire let out a mrrow of amusement.
“Oh, I ventured into the forest, through fire and flood and dark spirits, battling them all to bring you back a trophy—this magnificent mouse!”
Relief flooded through Sunbeam. She couldn’t imagine life without Blazefire, and the last thing she wanted to do was upset him. She thought she had loved him ever since she was a kit, traveling with him and the other cats from the hollow where she was born back to ShadowClan territory.
“Such a brave warrior!” she praised him.
“And how is your back?” Blazefire asked, drawing his tail-tip along her spine.
“Much better,” Sunbeam told him. “Shadowsight says—”
She broke off at the sound of racing paw steps outside, and a heartbeat later Lightleap stormed into the den. Her pelt bristled with fury as she stalked across to Sunbeam and stood glaring down at her.
“I know it was you who betrayed me!” she snarled. “You told my parents that I’d been acting stupid because I have some sort of death wish!”
“That’s not—” Sunbeam began, but Lightleap just went on raging, not listening to a word she said.
“Tigerstar and Dovewing really gave me a hard time about my choices yesterday. And it has to be you who told them—they had details that only you knew.”
As Sunbeam took a breath to defend herself, Shadowsight thrust himself between the two she-cats. “It wasn’t Sunbeam who told them,” he mewed. “It was me.”
For a moment, Lightleap just stared at him, jaws gaping, giving her brother the chance to explain.
“No cat is angry with you, Lightleap,” he told her. “We’re just worried. You shouldn’t be working so hard to prove yourself to the Clan. I’ve done the same thing in the past—you know that as well as I do—and it caused me to make some pretty serious mistakes. You’re a strong ShadowClan warrior and a valued member of our family. Can’t you be content with that?”
Sunbeam was impressed with Shadowsight’s wisdom; she could remember how unsure of himself he had been when he was younger. He had grown much stronger after the way he had suffered in the Dark Forest. But Lightleap clearly didn’t see him that way; his words only made her angrier.
