She flexed her claws, wondering whether to tell the white warrior that she felt like some night hunting. Suddenly a movement flickered in the corner of her eye, and she turned to see Leafpool emerging from the medicine cats’ den.
Squirrelflight almost called out to her. Then she realised how strangely her sister was behaving. Leafpool glanced around carefully before she crept out of the shelter of the brambles, although she clearly failed to spot her sister’s dark ginger pelt in the shadows by the warriors’ den. Then she headed around the edge of the clearing, hugging the darkness as if she were being hunted like a mouse. Her tension shivered through Squirrelflight from ears to tail-tip.
All Squirrelflight’s earlier uneasiness returned as she padded into the shadows after her sister, placing each paw silently onto the ground. She didn’t want to disturb Cloudtail or any of the other warriors until she knew what Leafpool was trying to do. Leafpool was in some kind of trouble, and this could be the chance Squirrelflight needed to find out more.
Before she reached the thorn barrier across the entrance to the hollow, and risked being seen by Cloudtail, the young medicine cat veered sharply into a clump of brambles. Squirrelflight heard a brief thrashing and froze as Cloudtail’s head swung round, but after listening for a few moments the white warrior twitched the tip of his tail and turned back to watch the tunnel again.
Her heart pounding, Squirrelflight slipped into the brambles behind Leafpool. This was a corner of the hollow that was still too overgrown to be used for sleeping or storing fresh-kill. To her surprise, Squirrelflight saw that part of the rock wall had crumbled away here, and it wouldn’t be too difficult for an agile cat to climb right to the top of the cliff. Leafpool had found a secret way out of the camp! It occurred to Squirrelflight that her sister must know the way very well, to have vanished already. How many times had she used this exit before?
Squirrelflight launched herself upward, fighting her way through the tendrils of bramble and sinking her claws into a straggling bush that had rooted itself in a crack. At last she scrambled over the edge of the hollow and dived for cover into the nearest clump of ferns, her ears pricked for any sound in the hollow below that might mean some cat had spotted her.
But everything was quiet, except for the rustle of wind in the branches. Gradually Squirrelflight’s racing heartbeat slowed, and she dared to poke her head out of the ferns to look around.
Leafpool was nowhere to be seen, but it didn’t take long for Squirrelflight to pick up her scent. The trail skirted the top of the hollow, then set off into the forest.
Squirrelflight followed, pausing every now and then to taste the air. She wanted to believe that Leafpool had left the hollow on medicine cat business, but as far as she knew, there were no herbs that had to be gathered by moonlight. Besides, the way Leafpool had sneaked out of camp, and the mingled guilt and excitement Squirrelflight picked up from her, meant that she must be doing something she shouldn’t.
You could have told me, Squirrelflight thought crossly. Maybe I could have helped.
Leafpool’s scent trail wound around hazel thickets and clumps of fern. After a while Squirrelflight realised she could hear the gurgling of the stream that marked the border with WindClan. She stopped and thought for a moment. Could Leafpool be going to the Moonpool? If she were, she would be furious that Squirrelflight was intruding on a medicine cat ritual. But if that were the case, why sneak out of the camp? Leafpool wouldn’t mind if every cat in the Clan knew she was going to share tongues with StarClan.
Squirrelflight went on, doing her best to follow the trail, but the woodland was full of the smell of newly bursting leaves and rising sap. Mouthwatering hints of prey crossed and recrossed Leafpool’s scent, until Squirrelflight could hardly distinguish it from all the others that flooded her senses. Several times she had to stop and take deep, gulping breaths before she could go on. Once she thought she had lost the trail on a bare patch of ground where rock pushed up close to the surface, but she picked it up again on the other side. Then the scent vanished completely in a patch of marshy ground, and though Squirrelflight padded all over it with her nose to the ground she couldn’t find it again.
“Huh!” she grunted. “Call yourself a hunter?”
She could still hear the sound of running water, and she slid silently through the trees until she came in sight of the stream. The breeze brought WindClan scent to her; could Leafpool have crossed the border into WindClan territory? For a heartbeat Squirrelflight thought of crossing to see if she could pick up her sister’s scent on the other side. But there was always the chance that some WindClan cat might have felt like hunting at night. If she were spotted on their territory there would be big trouble, with Onestar feeling the way he did about ThunderClan. Squirrelflight decided she would have a better chance of finding out what Leafpool was up to if she went back and waited outside the hollow until she returned.
She crouched among the ferns above the place where the cliff had crumbled away, guessing Leafpool would return the same way she had left. Her belly growled with hunger, but she didn’t want to hunt in case she missed her sister.
The sky was growing milky with the first sign of dawn when she heard a cat approaching through the undergrowth. Squirrelflight drew in her sister’s scent; rising to her paws, she saw Leafpool coming towards her, her head lowered and her tail brushing the grass.
“Where have you been?” she demanded.
Leafpool’s head shot up and she stared at her sister in dismay. “What are you doing out here? Have you been spying on me?”
“No, you daft furball.” Squirrelflight padded up to her sister, wanting to brush against her fur and reassure her, but Leafpool drew back a pace, and her eyes were wary. “I saw you leave last night, that’s all, and I’m worried about you. I know something’s wrong. Can’t you tell me what it is?”
The strength of Leafpool’s emotions almost swept Squirrelflight off her paws. She could tell her sister longed to confide in her, but a barrier stronger than thorns blocked her way. Squirrelflight’s belly clenched. Leafpool’s problem must be even more serious than she had thought.
Leafpool shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. Leave me alone.”
“I’m hardly going to do that now,” Squirrelflight scoffed. “Leafpool, this isn’t like you, sneaking off—”
“Sneaking!” Leafpool hissed, her tail fluffing out in fury. “You’re a fine one to talk! Why is it OK for you to sneak out and follow me?”
“I didn’t!” Squirrelflight protested. “I only wanted to know what was wrong.”
“It’s none of your business! If you trusted me, you wouldn’t ask all these questions.”
“Fine!” Squirrelflight snapped. “My sister’s in trouble and I’m supposed to ignore that?”
“If I wanted your help I would ask for it!” Leafpool flashed back at her.
“You know you need help.” Squirrelflight made a huge effort to control her fury. “If it’s medicine cat stuff, why don’t you talk to Cinderpelt?”
“Cinderpelt never listens to me.” Leafpool’s voice was sad. “She’s got Brightheart to help her. She doesn’t need me.”
“That’s the most mousebrained thing I’ve ever heard!”
Leafpool let out a hiss. “And you’re so wise and clever all of a sudden? I suppose you’re going to tell Firestar about this, too.”
Squirrelflight’s anger died away. Her sister seemed so desperate, it was impossible to go on challenging her. Wherever she had been, whatever she had been doing, it hadn’t made her happy.
“I won’t tell any cat,” she mewed quietly. “You’d better get back to your den before you’re missed.”
Leafpool nodded and brushed past, then turned and gave her such a sorrowful look that Squirrelflight felt a pang pierce her heart, as sharp as a thorn.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice so low that Squirrelflight could scarcely hear her. “I’d tell you if I could, I promise.”
Without waiting fo
r a reply, she disappeared over the edge of the hollow.
Squirrelflight stayed where she was, shaking like a leaf in the wind. She knew there was no point in going back to her den and trying to sleep. Her belly growled again, reminding her how long it had been since she had eaten. She would hunt for a while: a vole for herself, maybe, and then as much prey as she could catch for the fresh-kill pile. She turned to plunge back into the forest, and jumped as the undergrowth rustled and Brambleclaw stepped out.
“Was that Leafpool I saw just now? Where had she been?”
“I’ve no idea,” Squirrelflight replied, her pelt prickling. “She doesn’t need permission to leave the camp.”
Brambleclaw’s eyes narrowed; he clearly guessed Squirrelflight was hiding something from him. “It’s not safe for cats to wander around alone at night,” he commented.
“I think it was medicine cat stuff.” Squirrelflight automatically lied to protect her sister. “You know, looking for herbs.”
Brambleclaw blinked; Squirrelflight wasn’t sure she’d convinced him. He might have noticed that Leafpool hadn’t been carrying any herbs when she vanished into camp. And why would she have climbed down the cliff instead of using the tunnel? Squirrelflight’s tail twitched in her eagerness to get away before the tabby warrior could go on questioning her.
“I’m going hunting,” she mewed briskly.
“So am I.” Brambleclaw hesitated as if he were about to suggest they hunted together.
That was the last thing Squirrelflight wanted. “Well, I’m going this way.” She swung around and headed in the direction of the ShadowClan border, glancing over her shoulder to add, “See you later.”
She could feel the tabby warrior’s gaze following her as she plunged into the undergrowth, and she couldn’t stifle a pang of regret, deep within her belly. Once, she would have told him everything about Leafpool, trusting him to do everything he could to help. Now she didn’t trust him at all—especially not to keep her sister’s secret, whatever it was. Squirrelflight couldn’t imagine what it could be, but fear for Leafpool hung over her like a heavy black cloud that would soon unleash a storm.
CHAPTER 17
Leafpool picked her way through the undergrowth, ears pricked for the sound of pursuit. Ever since she had returned from meeting Crowfeather to find her sister waiting for her, she had been terrified of being followed. Her belly clenched with pangs as sharp as hunger when she imagined the rest of her Clan finding out what she was doing. They’ll find out sooner or later, a voice inside her mewed.
The quarrel with Squirrelflight still haunted her. Without the closeness she had shared with her sister since they were kits, Leafpool felt utterly alone in her Clan. But she couldn’t tell Squirrelflight the truth, and she couldn’t give up her meetings with Crowfeather. He was the only cat she could talk to now.
She’d tried to work up enough courage to tell Cinderpelt, but the medicine cat seemed obsessed with restocking her supplies, hunting through the territory for the tiniest signs of new growth. Besides, Leafpool was afraid Cinderpelt had already guessed her secret and was showing her disapproval in an uncharacteristic quickness of temper. She missed the afternoons they had spent talking back in the forest, when their paws had been busy sorting berries and leaves. Now her mentor seemed distant and more judgemental, less of a friend than she had always been.
In desperation, Leafpool had considered telling her mother, approaching her one evening by the fresh-kill pile. But Sandstorm had been discussing the best hunting grounds with Dustpelt, only giving her daughter a friendly nod before returning to the debate. And as for Sorreltail, Leafpool’s friend was so close to having her kits that she spent all her time with Daisy and Ferncloud in the nursery. Apart from when Cinderpelt asked her to take strength-building herbs to the queens, Leafpool kept away.
She paused when she heard a twig snap, freezing with one paw in mid-air. But it was only a squirrel, jumping down from an oak tree and racing in the opposite direction. Leafpool took a deep breath and carried on. A little earlier, at sunset, heavy rain had fallen from thundery black clouds. The skies were clearer now, but every fern and grass stem was loaded with drops of water, reflecting the pale glow of moonlight. Leafpool’s pelt had soaked through long ago, the cold seeping into her skin. Stopping to shake herself, she gazed up at the waning moon. It would have to wax again before her next visit to the Moonpool, yet she longed to lie down beside the water and share tongues with StarClan in her dreams. But what if StarClan refused to speak to her again?
“Oh, Spottedleaf,” she whispered, “I wish you’d tell me what to do.”
Leafpool’s head spun with weariness. She had been meeting up with Crowfeather every few nights, leaving her short of sleep and restless whenever she was away from him. During the day she had to pretend to Cinderpelt and the rest of the Clan that she was as committed as ever to being a medicine cat, that the only important thing was where to find juniper berries or easing the stiffness from the elders’ leafbare-damp joints.
You can’t go on like this, the small voice warned her.
Crowfeather had said the same thing: “We can’t go on like this, Leafpool. We’ll never be together unless we leave our Clans.”
Leafpool had stared at him in horror. Through all their difficulties, her fear and guilt warring with her love, she had never really imagined that they would have to leave their Clans. “Crowfeather, we can’t!”
Crowfeather shook his head. “It’s the only way. Will you think about it, please?”
Reluctantly, Leafpool had nodded. “All right. I will.”
But how could she give up her life as a medicine cat, give up her Clan, her family, her friends? Whatever decision she made, she was afraid she would not survive the loss.
Close to the border stream, she tasted the air for the first traces of Crowfeather’s scent; every hair on her pelt prickled with excitement as she detected it, and a heartbeat later she made out the lean grey-black warrior waiting for her in the shadow of a bush on the WindClan side of the stream. “Crowfeather!” she called, bounding forward.
“Leafpool!” Crowfeather sprang to his paws and his tail shot straight up as he spotted her.
She halted on the brink of the stream. Crowfeather climbed down the bank and splashed through the water as if he hardly realised it was there. Hauling himself out on the ThunderClan side, he padded up to Leafpool, droplets spinning from his pelt as he shook himself. His scent wreathed around her and she shut her eyes blissfully.
“I’m so glad you could come,” Leafpool purred. “Did you have any trouble getting away from camp?”
Crowfeather was about to reply when he froze, ears standing up. At the same moment, Leafpool heard a rustling in the bushes behind her. ThunderClan scent flooded her senses. She spun round.
“All right, Squirrelflight, come out!” she snapped. “I know you’re there.”
There was a brief silence. Then the bracken in front of her parted and out stepped not Squirrelflight, but Cinderpelt.
“What … what are you doing here?” Leafpool stammered, casting an anguished glance over her shoulder at Crowfeather.
The medicine cat limped forward and faced her calmly. “You know what I’m doing, Leafpool. I’m here to tell you that this has to stop.”
Leafpool stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t lie to me, Leafpool. Not with that WindClan warrior standing there, on our territory.”
There was no anger in her blue eyes, only concern. Her steady gaze pinned Leafpool like a claw, until the younger cat had to look away. “I suppose Squirrelflight told you to follow me,” she muttered.
“Squirrelflight? No. I was collecting herbs when I picked up your scent, and a WindClan cat’s close by. I came to see what was going on. Besides, do you think I didn’t suspect you’ve been sneaking out at night?”
Terror flashed through Leafpool. “You’ve been spying on me!”
“I didn’t need to,” Cinderpelt meowed. ?
??You’re obviously so exhausted that you can’t do your job properly. Only yesterday you tried to give Sootfur borage leaves instead of watermint for his bellyache. As for Crowfeather, I can’t say I’m surprised. Do you think I haven’t noticed the two of you at Gatherings? I’m not blind, Leafpool.”
“Wait,” Crowfeather began, stepping forward to Leafpool’s side. “This is between me and Leafpool. She’s not betraying her Clan, if that’s what you think.”
Cinderpelt fixed him with a stern gaze. “I never imagined she would. But she shouldn’t be here with you, and you know that as well as I do.”
Crowfeather bristled. Leafpool’s belly lurched, terrified that the aggressive young warrior might launch himself at the medicine cat with claws unsheathed.
“It’s OK, Crowfeather,” she mewed. “I can handle this.” Reluctantly she added, “You’d better go back to your camp.”
“And leave you alone to get your ears clawed?”
“Cinderpelt won’t do that. Please,” Leafpool begged.
Crowfeather hesitated a moment longer, limbs stiff with anger. Then he swung round and bounded back across the stream; Leafpool’s gaze followed him until he vanished into the undergrowth on the other side.
Turning back to her mentor, Leafpool sank her claws into the ground. “We aren’t doing any harm,” she mewed.
“Leafpool!” Cinderpelt’s tone hardened and she lashed her tail. “Crowfeather belongs to a different Clan, but that’s only the beginning. You’re a medicine cat. You can’t fall in love. Not with Crowfeather, not any cat. You have always known that.”
I knew it, Leafpool wailed inwardly, but I never knew what it would mean!
“It’s not fair!” she meowed. “I’ve got feelings too, just like any other cat.”
“Of course you have. But a medicine cat has to control those feelings for the good of her Clan. The path we follow has its own rewards. I’ve never felt cheated by the destiny StarClan sent me.”