It’s only a monster, she told herself. Why are you so jumpy? One of those huge things would never get down here.
Gradually the end of the tunnel appeared, a bright circle in the dimness. Yellowfang’s ears rang from the noise of monsters as she clambered out. Dreadful shrieks rose into the air from somewhere up ahead. Oh, no! Cats are fighting!
She broke into a run, scrambling up a short, steep slope covered with tough moorland grass, and clawed her way across a sandy overhang. Reaching the top, she looked down into a narrow valley with a stream running along the bottom. The ShadowClan patrol was grappling with WindClan cats. Yellowfang recognized Talltail and a small, russet-furred tom called Redclaw. The others were strangers to her.
“Trespassers!” Talltail growled as he launched himself at Brokentail. “Get off our territory!”
“Prey-stealers!” Brokentail retorted, raking his claws down Talltail’s side.
“Stop!” Yellowfang screeched, but no cat heard her.
For a heartbeat she wanted to hurl herself into the battle and help her Clanmates, but she stopped herself. I am a medicine cat. I must keep apart from Clan rivalries.
She watched, horrified, as Raggedstar and Redclaw tussled together in a shrieking ball of fur, battering at each other with their strong hind paws as both cats strove to break free. Cloudpelt jumped on top of another WindClan warrior, lashing at his ears until the blood ran freely. Then he sprang off and flung himself at Talltail, who had pinned Brokentail down and was clawing at his face. Scorchwind had fallen beneath the paws of a tabby tom, who was trying to sink his teeth into the ShadowClan warrior’s throat.
Yellowfang’s heart began to pound harder as she realized that her Clanmates were being beaten back toward the tunnel. Even though the patrol was made up of ShadowClan’s best fighters, they were no match for WindClan’s fury.
Raggedstar broke away from his battle with Redclaw and staggered to his paws. “Retreat!” he yowled.
Brokentail snarled with rage, in spite of the blood running down his face, but Raggedstar gathered the patrol together and they gradually fought their way back toward the tunnel, still harried by the WindClan cats. Yellowfang gasped as a stabbing pain shot through her throat. She scanned her Clanmates and saw Cloudpelt stumble to the ground. His thick white fur was turning red.
As she rushed forward to support Cloudpelt, she heard Raggedstar hiss, “What are you doing here?”
Yellowfang ignored the question. “We have to get Cloudpelt back to camp!” she gasped.
To her relief, they were only a few fox-lengths away from the tunnel mouth, and the WindClan cats, satisfied with their victory, drew back at last.
“Don’t set paw on our territory again!” Talltail yowled after them.
Yellowfang helped Cloudpelt through the tunnel, stumbling through the darkness with the roar of monsters all around them. The Clan deputy scarcely seemed conscious, and she had to take all his weight. At the other end of the tunnel Scorchwind came to Cloudpelt’s other side to prop him up, and the patrol struggled back to the camp.
“Cobwebs! Quickly!” Yellowfang snapped at Runningnose as she dragged Cloudpelt into her den. She remembered how she had battled to save his life before, when the rogues leaped out at him. I succeeded then. I will succeed now. “StarClan, wait your turn!” she hissed aloud.
The other members of the patrol crowded in after them, but Yellowfang only had eyes for the white warrior, who had collapsed onto the ground.
“Get a juniper berry,” she ordered as Runningnose brought her a thick pad of cobweb. “Crush it and see if you can get the juice into him.” She pressed the cobweb to the gash in Cloudpelt’s throat, but his blood soaked through almost at once. Runningnose dropped another pad beside her before fetching the juniper berry.
“I need marigold and thyme!” Yellowfang ordered, pressing the fresh cobweb to Cloudpelt’s wound.
As she worked she was vaguely aware of dismayed wails coming from the clearing, as the rest of the Clan heard about the patrol’s defeat. Meanwhile Runningnose dealt with the injuries of the rest of the patrol; none of them were serious.
“Get off me!” Brokentail snapped when Runningnose tried to help him clean up the scratches on his face. “I don’t need a stupid medicine cat pawing over me.”
Runningnose shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he muttered. He watched Brokentail stride out of the den, then turned to examine the claw marks on Scorchwind’s flank.
This is all my fault, Yellowfang thought as she listened to Cloudpelt’s wavering breath. I should have forced Raggedstar to listen to me about that rabbit. WindClan had fought this fiercely because they had been falsely accused.
The rest of the patrol left the den after Runningnose had finished treating them. Yellowfang looked up to see that daylight was already fading; she had lost all track of time. “You’d better get some sleep,” she told Runningnose. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”
Runningnose nodded, glancing anxiously down at Cloudpelt, then curled up in his nest and closed his eyes.
The night dragged on. Yellowfang never moved from Cloudpelt’s side, listening to his shallow breathing and watching the ooze of blood that still trickled from his neck. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there when the young warrior’s eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes.
“Yellowfang?” he murmured feebly.
“I’m here.” Yellowfang rested a paw reassuringly on Cloudpelt’s shoulder. “I won’t leave you.” She reached for a ball of wet moss and held it so that Cloudpelt could lap at it.
“That’s good …” Cloudpelt sighed out the words. “Am I going to StarClan?”
“Not if I can help it,” Yellowfang muttered grimly.
Cloudpelt twitched his whiskers. “Maybe I’ll see you there …” His voice faded and his eyes closed again.
Her heart clenched with grief, Yellowfang stayed by his side. Gradually she became aware that another cat was standing beside her. She looked up to see Brokentail.
“Have you come to have your wounds treated?” she asked.
“No,” Brokentail sneered. “I’ve come to tell you not to waste your efforts with Cloudpelt. His time is over. He would never have been able to lead ShadowClan.” He drew himself up, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. “There is only one cat who can do that after Raggedstar. I will be the next leader of ShadowClan.”
“How can you say that?” Yellowfang gasped. “I am a medicine cat, and I will always do everything I can to save my Clanmates!”
Brokentail did not respond, just looked down at Cloudpelt with eyes that glittered with hostility. Then without another word, he stalked out of the den.
Brokentail lied about the rabbit, I’m sure of it. And now Cloudpelt is terribly injured. Yellowfang remembered what Raggedstar had said to his son when he made Cloudpelt deputy. Don’t worry. I’ve many seasons left in me, and if anything should happen to Cloudpelt, it will be your turn next. She forced her darkest fears away. Even if Brokentail had deliberately caught the rabbit to start a battle with WindClan, he couldn’t have known how badly Cloudpelt would be hurt. Brokentail is ambitious, but that’s a good thing for a warrior. I can still be proud of him.
Throughout the night Yellowfang tried every herb, every trace of knowledge she possessed, to help Cloudpelt, but as the sun slid into the den through the branches overhead, the white warrior’s faint breathing grew more ragged, then sank into silence. His tail-tip twitched once, and then was still.
He has gone to hunt with StarClan. Yellowfang bent over the deputy’s body, grief-stricken and scared deep inside. Things are going terribly wrong.
As she crouched over Cloudpelt’s body, she heard a rustling from Runningnose’s nest. His voice came from behind her, blurred with sleep. “How is Cloudpelt?”
“He’s dead,” Yellowfang choked out.
“No!” Runningnose got up and came to stand beside her, scraps of moss still clinging to his pelt. “Do you want me to break the news to Raggedsta
r?”
Yellowfang shook her head. “No. Thank you, but I have to do that myself.” She stumbled into the clearing and padded over to Raggedstar’s den. Creeping under the oak roots, she saw the Clan leader curled in his nest. “Wake up!” she meowed.
Raggedstar lifted his head, then scrambled up when he saw Yellowfang. “What news?”
“The worst,” Yellowfang admitted. “Cloudpelt walks with StarClan now.”
Raggedstar bowed his head. “He died the death of the noblest warrior.”
“But it was a battle that should never have been fought!” Yellowfang flashed back at him.
“Do not say that!” Raggedstar roared. “You dishonor Cloudpelt’s memory if that’s what you truly believe!”
“I would never do that,” Yellowfang assured him, forcing herself to meet her leader’s gaze steadily. “But I think Brokentail looked for this battle. Cloudpelt died unnecessarily.”
Raggedstar narrowed his eyes. “What exactly are you saying?”
Yellowfang flinched. “I don’t think you should make Brokentail deputy in his place.”
“I will not listen to this!” Raggedstar snarled. His amber gaze, alight with anger, rested on her like a flame. “You are my medicine cat, Yellowfang, and your loyalty should only be to me and my warriors. Never question me again!”
The moon was rising above the trees. In the clearing, the ShadowClan cats kept vigil for Cloudpelt. Yellowfang sat near his head. She remembered the eager apprentice he had been, looking forward to having a mate and kits.
I’m so sorry that will never happen. But you were a fine deputy for your Clan, and you died with a warrior’s courage.
Movement alerted Yellowfang, and she looked up to see Raggedstar leaping up onto the Clanrock.
“Cats of ShadowClan!” he began. “We have lost Cloudpelt, and we grieve for him. But the life of the Clan must continue. It is time to appoint a new deputy.” He paused, but this time there was no sense of anticipation among the Clan. Every cat knew who the Cloudpelt’s successor would be.
“I say these words before the body of Cloudpelt, and in the presence of the spirits of my ancestors, that they may hear and approve my choice,” Raggedstar announced. “Brokentail will be the new deputy of ShadowClan.” He raised his tail for silence before the Clan could break into the usual cheers. “True, Brokentail is still younger than most of you, but ShadowClan has never had a braver or more skillful warrior. He is an example to us all, and it will be a great honor to lead the Clan with him.”
Yowls rose up to welcome Brokentail. The warrior stood in the center of the clearing with his head held high and his eyes gleaming like two yellow moons. Yellowfang thought back to the time when he had been a friendless kit because no cat knew who his mother was. She had felt sorry for him then, and terribly guilty for abandoning her only son. But so much had happened since then, all of it overshadowed by Molepelt’s strange warning of blood and fire. However hard she tried, Yellowfang couldn’t feel pride in the warrior that stood before her now. Only fear and a deep sense of dread for the future.
He has come so far since he was a motherless kit. How much further will he go?
CHAPTER 34
The sound of cats crashing through the brambles woke Yellowfang. She sat up in her nest. The night was starless, pitch-black, and a brisk leaf-fall wind scoured across the camp. Are we being attacked?
Then the sound of familiar voices drifted into the medicine cats’ den. Yellowfang let the fur on her neck lie down. It’s only a night patrol returning.
A moon before, shortly after he became deputy, Brokentail had decided that the Clan should start patrolling the borders at night. “Other Clans might attack us under cover of darkness,” he had stated. “But they’ll discover that ShadowClan is ready for them.”
Runningnose stirred in his nest beside Yellowfang. “These night patrols are a waste of time,” he complained. “We’re no more at risk of attack than the other Clans, because they’re all sleeping like we are.”
“Fox dung! StarClan-cursed thorns!” A voice sounded a couple of tail-lengths away.
“At least we should be sleeping,” Runningnose added dryly.
There was a rustle of movement as a cat slipped between the boulders into the den; Yellowfang recognized Frogtail by his scent. “What is it?” she called.
“I wrenched my shoulder jumping down from a tree trunk while I was on patrol,” Frogtail explained. “You can’t see your paw in front of your face on a night like this.”
Yellowfang sighed. “Come over here.”
She did her best to examine Frogtail’s shoulder in the dark. She could feel heat in his muscles and she let down her defenses, allowing herself to feel his pain briefly so that she could judge how bad it was. “You’ll live,” she grunted.
“Do I need herbs?” Frogtail meowed. “Poppy seeds to sleep?”
“No, your pain isn’t that bad,” Yellowfang told him. Brokentail’s new schedule of extra patrols and training had meant more injuries than usual and stocks of herbs were low. “You’ll be fine if you just rest.”
“Are you sure?” Frogtail sounded disappointed. “I can’t afford to miss any training, or Brokentail will put me back on apprentice duties.”
ShadowClan had no apprentices at the moment: Featherstorm’s litter, Mosskit, Volekit, and Dawnkit, were still too young, and Newtspeck had only recently given birth to Wetkit, Littlekit, and Brownkit. Until more kits could be apprenticed, the warriors were taking turns performing the duties.
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Yellowfang suggested. “Apprentice duties will be easier on your shoulder than training and patrolling.”
“I guess,” Frogtail muttered. “Thanks anyway, Yellowfang,” he added as he padded out of the den.
Runningnose had already curled up again, but when Yellowfang returned to her nest, sleep eluded her. As soon as the sky began to grow pale with dawn, she made her way into the clearing. The ground was cold beneath her paws and in the dim light she could see a white rim of frost on every leaf and twig. Leaf-bare is almost upon us.
From the nursery she could hear the joyful squeaking of kits, and she pictured six warm, furry bodies squirming among the moss and pine needles. Yellowfang glowed with warmth as she imagined them growing big and strong over the next moons. But her hope was tinged with worry. Our ranks are swelling; it might become hard to feed us all. She wondered if she should pay the nursery a visit, then decided there was no need. Featherstorm is an experienced queen, and Newtspeck has really good mothering instincts.
A cough sounded behind Yellowfang. Startled, she turned to see that Nightpelt had emerged from the elders’ den. He was looking strained; his cough always troubled him more when the cold weather started to set in.
“I thought I’d go for a walk,” Yellowfang meowed. “Do you want to come?”
The black tom nodded and fell in beside her. The two cats slipped through the brambles, past Mousewing on guard, and padded into the trees. Yellowfang heaved a contented sigh as she gazed around at the territory, caught like crystal in the silver dawn. The trees and bushes were white with frost and every puddle was rimmed with ice that glittered in the growing light.
I’m so glad this is my home.
“I trained here once with Flintpaw and Clawpaw,” Nightpelt mewed as they reached a thicket of dense bushes. “Flintpaw ran into a bees’ nest in that tree over there—I’ve never heard a cat yowl so loud!”
“I remember,” Yellowfang responded; she had used up most of her stocks of dock leaves treating the young cat’s stings. “He was very brave about the pain.”
Nightpelt nodded. “He’d only just healed when he convinced us to go fishing in the stream near the big ash tree. We all came back soaking wet, and we didn’t catch a thing.”
“And Stonetooth told you to leave fishing to RiverClan,” Yellowfang recalled. “You and your denmates were always causing trouble!” She padded on a few paw steps, then asked, “Do you mind not being a war
rior anymore?”
Nightpelt paused before replying. “I am still a warrior inside,” he mewed at last. “I have the same spirit, the same loyalty to my Clan. I hope that one day I will find new ways to prove this, besides warrior duties.”
“I’m sure you’ll never stop finding ways to prove your love for ShadowClan,” Yellowfang told him, touching him lightly on the shoulder with her tail-tip.
As they headed back toward the camp, they met a patrol on their way out. Stumpytail and Tangleburr were bounding in the lead, closely followed by Rowanberry, Blackfoot, and Deerfoot. Brokentail brought up the rear.
“Are you going hunting?” Yellowfang called.
“No, this is battle training,” Stumpytail announced, his whiskers quivering with excitement. “Brokentail has asked us to be dogs, and chase our Clanmates through the forest.”
Yellowfang blinked. “Doesn’t the Clan need feeding first?”
Deerfoot flicked his tail. “They can wait. It’s not like we’ll be long.”
Yellowfang and Nightpelt watched the patrol as it charged off through the trees.
“I’m going to climb a tree!” Stumpytail meowed. “Then I’ll jump down on the dogs and shred them!”
“But we’ll be too fast for you,” Tangleburr countered. “So you can stay up your tree until you freeze!”
“Brokentail has really inspired them,” Nightpelt commented as he and Yellowfang went on toward the camp. “The next cats to trespass on our territory won’t spend long on the wrong side of the border.”
Yellowfang nodded. “The Clan is certainly strong at the moment.” She sensed they were both being careful about what they said. Brokentail’s methods can sometimes be harsh; I’m sure Nightpelt would agree with me on that. The silence hung heavily between them as they pushed through the brambles into the camp.
As soon as they emerged into the clearing, Featherstorm came dashing toward them from the nursery. “Oh, Yellowfang, thank StarClan you’re back!” she exclaimed. “Volekit has started coughing.”
“I’ll come and look at him right away,” Yellowfang mewed.