She became aware of raised voices at the edge of the fresh-kill pile. “You can’t have another one, Mossypaw,” Reedwhisker was saying. “Hollowpaw and Rushpaw haven’t had theirs yet.”
“They should be here, then!” Mossypaw argued.
“Here they come,” mewed Graymist. The two apprentices were trotting through the entrance.
“Look!” called Mallownose. “Fresh mice!”
“Great,” mewed Hollowpaw, sounding less than excited.
“How was your battle practice?” Mistystar asked. She watched the young cats closely, mindful of what Mothwing had said about their private boasting.
“Really good!” Rushpaw meowed.
“I was the best,” Hollowpaw declared.
“Where did you go?” Mistystar put in.
Rushpaw looked surprised. “Oh, you know that elderflower bush by the holly tree? There’s a clear space under there that is just right for battle training.”
“Excellent,” Mistystar murmured. She was beginning to feel guilty about quizzing them. “Reedwhisker saved a mouse for you.”
The apprentices exchanged a glance. “We’re not hungry right now,” mewed Hollowpaw. “Is it okay if we have it later?”
“Yes, of course.” Mistystar turned away but looked back over her shoulder. “And well done for working so hard. I know things aren’t easy at the moment, but I’m proud of you for keeping up with your training.”
Rushpaw twitched his tail. “We’re just doing what any loyal cat would do,” he insisted. “You can count on us, Mistystar.”
Chapter 8
Keeping her weight balanced over her haunches so that she didn’t tip forward and fall in, Mistystar sliced her paw through the water. Her claws sank into the minnow’s narrow body and she flicked it triumphantly onto the rock beside her. The tiny fish flapped for a moment before lying still.
“Nicely done!” called a voice, making Mistystar look up in surprise.
Beetlewhisker was watching her from the top of the shore. His brown-and-white fur stood out sharply against the gray stones.
“It’s still not much more than a mouthful,” Mistystar pointed out, glancing down at her catch in disappointment. Reedwhisker had taken a patrol upstream that morning in search of more prey outside the territory, but Mistystar had wanted to check for herself the state of the lake.
“At least the big fish are coming back!” Beetlewhisker purred.
Mistystar put her head on one side. “They are?”
Beetlewhisker nodded. “Oh, yes. I saw a huge trout yesterday, longer than my tail. Mothwing told me to leave it alone, though.”
“She did?”
“Yes, to give the lake a chance to build up its stocks again. She said we should let the bigger fish build up their numbers and breed again before we start catching them.”
Mistystar felt her mouth fall open. “She didn’t mention this to me.”
Beetlewhisker blinked. “Well, maybe she thought you’d feel the same?” He sounded uncomfortable, and Mistystar felt sorry for challenging him. He wasn’t the cat she needed to speak to about this. She stood up and picked up her minnow.
“I’d better add this to the fresh-kill pile,” she meowed. “See you later, Beetlewhisker.”
She left the warrior standing rather unhappily on the shore, and threaded back through the ferns to the camp. She dropped her fish onto the pile and went to the medicine cats’ den. Mothwing was inside alone, doing something complicated with a heap of leaves.
“Why did you tell Beetlewhisker not to catch the trout?” Mistystar demanded.
Mothwing looked up. “Because we want to let the lake recover first,” she meowed. “What’s the point of taking all of the big fish as soon as they appear?”
“That should have been my decision,” Mistystar insisted. She knew she was being stubborn—Mothwing had a fair point—but she couldn’t help feeling that she was being deliberately undermined.
“You weren’t there!” Mothwing pointed out. “And I’m allowed to have an opinion, aren’t I?” There was a hint of challenge in her gaze, which made Mistystar bristle even more.
“You know what? I’m not sure anymore! Not after lying to the Clan about StarClan!”
“I didn’t lie!” Mothwing flashed back.
“By letting us believe you could be our medicine cat, you did.”
Mothwing stared at her. “Are you saying you don’t trust me to do anything?”
Mistystar felt her tail droop. “I don’t think I do,” she murmured. “Everything’s going wrong, the Clan is still hungry, and I need StarClan to know that they can send us signs at any time.”
“Willowshine will tell you if she sees a sign.”
“Will she really? Or is her loyalty to you too strong?” Mistystar suddenly felt very tired. “Please accept that you can no longer be a medicine cat, Mothwing. Before StarClan gives up on us completely.”
Mothwing curled her tail over her back and padded out of the den. “Just because I don’t believe in StarClan, Mistystar, you don’t have to give up your faith in them,” she whispered on her way past.
As Mistystar followed Mothwing away from the rocks, she heard a small commotion beside the fresh-kill pile. Mossypaw was bickering with Troutpaw over who should have the last piece of squirrel. At least they’re getting a taste for land prey, Mistystar thought. She didn’t have the energy to sort out the apprentices’ quarrel, so she headed for the entrance and pushed her way into the middle of the territory, where the bushes grew most densely. It was quiet and sheltered under here, and she found a patch of dry leaves to lie down on.
She listened to the leaves on the holly tree rattling in the breeze, and watched a few late elderflower petals drift down in front of her. Something stirred in her mind. Hadn’t Rushpaw described a place under an elderflower bush next to a holly tree where he and Hollowpaw had practiced their battle techniques? Mistystar looked around. Holly trees weren’t common in their territory, and she was pretty sure there wasn’t another one so close to an elder bush. But the ground was smooth and the layer of fallen leaves undisturbed; there had been no fighting here for a long while. Had Rushpaw lied?
Mistystar shrugged. She’d question where the apprentices were again later. Whatever they were up to, it could wait. She closed her eyes and pictured her Clanmates roaming across the marsh and up the stream in search of food. Was Beetlewhisker right? Were the trout really coming back to the lake? And if so, would her warriors be able to resist catching them until the water was fully stocked?
Mistystar felt warm breath on her ear, and a familiar, heartbreaking scent wreathed around her. “There are more sources of prey than the lake,” whispered a voice. Mistystar whirled around, peering into the shadows.
“Stonefur? Are you there?”
There was nothing but silence. But Stonefur had visited her! StarClan was still watching them. We are going to survive! Mistystar thought joyously.
Suddenly the branches crashed and Reedwhisker burst through the bushes. “Mistystar! Come quickly! Hollowpaw and Rushpaw are in trouble!”
Mistystar leaped up. “Where are they?”
Reedwhisker skidded to a halt, his expression grim. “By the Twoleg dens.”
Mistystar didn’t ask for an explanation. She just followed her deputy at a sprint through the bushes, down to the stream, and along the muddy bank that led out of their territory. What in the name of StarClan are Hollowpaw and Rushpaw doing there? They weren’t part of Reedwhisker’s patrol.
Reedwhisker clawed his way to the top of the bank with Mistystar close behind him, and the two cats stood panting on the vast stretch of grass. Reedwhisker pointed with his tail. “Mallownose, Graymist, and Robinwing are by the boundary; can you see?”
Mistystar narrowed her eyes against the wind. She could just make out the pale-furred shapes of her Clanmates crouching by the long wall of stones that marked the edge of the field. “Where are the apprentices?”
“On the other side of the wall,
by the Twoleg den. They’re trapped in a corner by a pair of dogs.” Reedwhisker glanced at Mistystar. “It looks pretty dangerous.”
“We have to get them out!” Mistystar exclaimed.
“Of course,” Reedwhisker meowed. “I just wanted to warn you, that’s all.”
But Mistystar was already tearing over the grass, leaping high with each stride to avoid being caught in the dense stalks. Reedwhisker caught up to her with a few bounds, and they raced side by side to the wall where the others were waiting.
“Are the dogs still there?” Reedwhisker demanded.
Graymist nodded, her eyes huge and her fur fluffed up. Mistystar jumped on top of the wall. She almost fell off again when she saw the two huge black-and-brown dogs snarling at the edge of the Twoleg den. Cowering under a tiny stone ledge were the RiverClan apprentices.
“Help, help!” shrieked Hollowpaw as one of the dogs thrust its muzzle under the ledge.
“Get back, you brute!” Rushpaw hissed, and Mistystar saw one of his paws flash out, catching the dog on its nose. The dog merely shook its head and curled its lip again. Twin strands of drool hung from its jaws.
“Great StarClan,” Mistystar whispered.
Reedwhisker appeared beside her on the wall. “You and the others distract the dogs,” he meowed. “I’ll go along that fence”—he gestured with his tail to a narrow wooden barrier running from the wall to the Twoleg den—“and lead Hollowpaw and Rushpaw out.”
“It’s too far for you to go on your own!” Mistystar gasped, studying the distance between the wooden fence and the tiny ledge of stone.
“The apprentices won’t come out on their own,” Reedwhisker meowed. “You have to trust me, Mistystar.”
Mistystar gazed at her son. “I do trust you,” she mewed. “Just be careful, please.”
“I will,” Reedwhisker promised. “I value my pelt even more than you do,” he teased over his shoulder as he turned to the warriors crouching below. “Come up here!” he called. Graymist, Mallownose, and Robinwing scrambled onto the wall and balanced beside Mistystar. Reedwhisker started to trot along the top of the stones. “When I’m almost at the Twoleg den, make some noise!” he ordered.
“Are you going to let him do this?” Graymist whispered to Mistystar.
“We don’t have a choice,” Mistystar replied grimly. Oh, StarClan, please watch over him!
The cats watched in silence as Reedwhisker picked his way along the narrow strip of wood. His black pelt looked like a shadow as he crept noiselessly closer to the Twoleg den. When he was less than a fox-length away, Mistystar lifted her head.
“Dog-breath!” she screeched. “Over here, you foulmouthed creatures!”
One of the dogs spun around, its hackles raised. It barked, and the other dog turned to join it.
“Scared of us, are you?” taunted Mallownose.
“Come on, flea-pelts! Pick on someone your own size!” yowled Robinwing.
The dogs took a pace toward the wall. Behind them, Mistystar saw Hollowpaw and Rushpaw peep out from under the ledge. They looked as tiny as kits, and even more vulnerable.
“Too scared to come any closer?” jeered Graymist, standing on her toes. “We’ll give you a proper fight!”
The dogs sprang forward, crossing the short, muddy grass in a few strides. Mistystar gripped the stone tightly to keep herself from fleeing. At the far end of the wooden fence, Reedwhisker jumped down and raced along the side of the Twoleg den to where the apprentices were hiding.
“Come on!” Mistystar heard him call. “This way, quick!”
Hollowpaw and Rushpaw started to creep out from underneath the ledge. Faster, faster, Mistystar willed them.
In the brief silence, the dogs’ attention had turned away from the cats on the wall. One of them swung its massive head back toward the Twoleg den. When it saw the three cats outlined sharply against the pale gray stone, it let out a growl. With a mad scrabble of gigantic paws, the dogs whirled around and started to hurtle back toward Reedwhisker and the apprentices.
“No!” screeched Mistystar. Without thinking, she leaped down behind the dogs. “Come back here! Take me instead!”
“Get back to the wall!” yowled Reedwhisker, who had reached the apprentices and was standing in front of them, shielding them with his tail.
“Run!” Mistystar hollered. She was almost at the dogs’ heels now; mud was splashing into her face from their racing paws, and she was almost knocked off her feet by one of their thick-furred tails. She sprang up and grabbed the end of the tail in her teeth. At once the dog skidded to a halt, jerking Mistystar forward. She braced herself and sank her teeth deeper into the fleshy tail. The dog circled, and Mistystar found herself being dragged sideways.
“Let go, Mistystar!” she heard Mallownose shout from the wall. Mistystar gritted her teeth and clung on. She could feel the dog’s breath hot on her neck and the stench was enough to make her gag, but she knew she couldn’t let go.
There was a rapid pounding of paws, and suddenly Graymist and Robinwing were beside her, rearing up on their hind legs to slash at the dog. With a yelp, it jumped backward. Mistystar lost her grip and stumbled onto her knees. Graymist shoved her up to her feet, and the three cats raced back to the wall.
“Where’s Mallownose?” Mistystar yowled, realizing that the top of the stones was empty.
“Helping Reedwhisker,” Graymist panted.
Mistystar whirled around and saw the light brown warrior clinging to the back of the other dog, distracting it while Reedwhisker pushed Hollowpaw and Rushpaw up to the top of the fence. As soon as the apprentices were clear, Mallownose sprang from the dog’s shoulders onto the fence beside them. The narrow strip of wood shuddered and buckled as the three cats clung on.
“Reedwhisker! Watch out!” Mistystar shrieked. The deputy was crouching down, waiting for the fence to stop shaking before he jumped up. Both of the dogs leaped at him, jaws bared, drool flying from their cheeks. They landed with a thud and a dreadful tearing sound. Reedwhisker let out a shriek of pain that tore Mistystar’s heart in two.
“Reedwhisker! No!”
Chapter 9
Mistystar bunched her hindquarters beneath her, ready to spring down, but Robinwing held her back.
“Wait! Mallownose has him!”
The brown warrior had dug his claws into the top of the fence and lowered himself down until he could sink his teeth into Reedwhisker’s scruff. He hauled the barely moving cat out of the dogs’ reach and carried him along the wood, with Hollowpaw and Rushpaw stumbling in front of him. The dogs sprang and snapped at them from below, but Mallownose kept going, his eyes bulging from the effort of holding his Clanmate.
Mistystar pushed the apprentices out of the way as they stood trembling on the wall, and stretched out to take her son from Mallownose. The black tom was moaning softly, and a huge gash stretched across his flank. The wound was so deep that Mistystar could see the white gleam of bone at the top of his hind leg.
“Oh, StarClan,” she whispered.
“We’re so sorry,” Hollowpaw whimpered. “We were just looking for food.”
“Kittypet food,” Rushpaw added. He hung his head. “We found some here before, and it didn’t taste too bad. We thought if we got enough to eat here, we wouldn’t have to take anything from the fresh-kill pile.”
Mistystar stared at the apprentices, resisting the urge to claw their ears off until they screamed as loudly as Reedwhisker had. They never meant for any cat to get hurt. They thought they were helping.
Robinwing stepped alongside Mistystar. “Let’s get Reedwhisker back to the camp,” he meowed. He and Mallownose stood at the foot of the wall while Graymist and Mistystar lowered Reedwhisker onto their shoulders. The warriors stumbled a little under the deputy’s weight, then braced themselves and began the slow trek back through the grass. Mistystar walked at Reedwhisker’s head, trying to stop it from bouncing against Mallownose’s elbow. Graymist followed, with the apprentices on each side of her. The
young cats were too dazed and miserable to speak.
They kept to the top of the bank, not wanting to risk Reedwhisker falling into the still-swollen stream. Once they reached the bushes inside RiverClan territory, Graymist and Mistystar went ahead to hold branches out of the way. Reedwhisker’s body was still whipped by stray twigs, though, and Mistystar whimpered every time he was lashed by another loose branch.
As they entered the camp, Graymist yowled, “Mothwing! Quick!”
Mothwing’s golden head poked out from the elders’ den. “What is it?” Scraps of moss clung to her fur, and Mistystar guessed she had been building herself a nest.
“Reedwhisker is hurt!” Mallownose told her, but Mothwing was already pushing her way out of the branches and running across the clearing. The warriors let Reedwhisker slip gently to the ground.
Mothwing stared at the gaping wound. “We need cobweb, comfrey, marigold, watermint,” she began. “Robinwing, fetch some soaked moss. Do I smell dog?”
“Yes,” mewed Mallownose. “He was bitten by at least one, if not two.”
“In that case, we need to get this wound as clean as possible.” Mothwing ran her paw lightly along Reedwhisker’s spine. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but let’s keep him still anyway.”
Mistystar stepped forward. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly speak. But she reached out with one paw and moved Mothwing away from Reedwhisker. “Let Willowshine do this,” she mewed.
Her Clanmates stared at her. “Mistystar, what are you doing?” Graymist exclaimed. “Mothwing is our medicine cat!”
“Not anymore,” Mistystar replied softly.
Mothwing blinked. “Are you sure you mean this? Reedwhisker is very, very sick.”
“Willowshine knows what to do,” Mistystar whispered. “StarClan will help her.”
Mothwing flinched, then turned away. “I’ll get her,” she mewed.
“I don’t understand!” growled Robinwing. “What’s going on?”