Her paws slowed as she passed him, and she jerked her head into a quick dip of greeting. Hawkfrost merely looked at her, his icy blue gaze watchful. Once, she would have been able to tell what he was thinking.
I don’t know what’s going on in Hawkfrost’s head anymore… . The thought scared her, and she shivered. But there would be time enough to worry about that later. She pushed Hawkfrost’s inscrutable look to the back of her mind and hurried off to gather the leaves she needed. She had a job to do.
Chapter 7
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Mothwing told Swallowtail a moon later. “The cut is healing, but it’s bound to sting a bit if you exert yourself too much.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to let that trout get away just because my leg hurt a little,” Swallowtail purred. “Thanks, Mothwing, I was afraid I’d made it worse.”
Before Mothwing could answer, she heard a cat rushing through the tunnel into the medicine den and scented Willowpaw. “What’s wrong?” she started to ask as her apprentice emerged, thinking about what herbs they had on hand if some cat was seriously injured.
Then she saw Willowpaw’s face. The meow faded before she could speak. Willowpaw looked frightened, and more than that, she looked like she felt intensely sorry for Mothwing. Mothwing stared at her apprentice, her heart pounding, and her mouth grew dry. She couldn’t speak.
“Mothwing?” the small gray apprentice said tentatively, and Mothwing broke into sudden motion, pushing past Willowpaw and out into the camp. Something was terribly wrong.
The first cat she saw was Leafpool, and she relaxed a little at the sight of her friend. Maybe things weren’t as bad as she thought. Leafpool’s clear amber gaze was serious, but she seemed calm. Then Mothwing saw Firestar, the ThunderClan leader, speaking with Leopardstar. Behind him were Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight. Between them, the two warriors were carrying a limp cat, a huge one with dark brown tabby fur, draped across their backs.
Mothwing froze. And then she gasped in horror. Hawkfrost.
Her brother was dead.
Every strand of fur on her pelt stiffened, and she walked forward, one slow step at a time, toward her littermate’s body. Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw lowered Hawkfrost to the ground and stepped back, respectfully giving her room.
He’s not breathing. Mothwing reached out one tentative paw and found that her brother was cold. His chest fur was thick with sticky clumps of drying blood. There was a deep, round wound in his throat.
She turned to look at the ThunderClan cats and realized that her Clanmates were staring at them, too, their pelts bristling with shock and hostility. Leafpool and Squirrelflight looked uninjured, though shaken, but Firestar’s neck was badly scratched, and Brambleclaw had claw marks on his throat and side.
“What happened?” Mothwing asked at last, her voice thin. Distrust welled up inside her: Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost had planned to rule the territories together one day. Had their plan fallen apart? Or had Brambleclaw decided to eliminate his rival for power instead of working with him?
As she stared at Brambleclaw, the tabby tom’s shoulders slumped and he gazed past her, his eyes dark with horror. No, Mothwing decided. Whatever had happened, the ThunderClan tom did not look like a triumphant victor.
“I think we’d all like to know what happened,” Leopardstar growled, her dappled tail slashing from side to side. “Why are ThunderClan cats bringing me the dead body of one of RiverClan’s best warriors? We need an explanation, Firestar!”
Firestar blinked solemnly. “Hawkfrost was killed by a fox trap,” he began. “It was a terrible accident. I’m so sorry.” He gazed around at the assembled RiverClan cats, who stared back at him with a mixture of hostility and grief. “I know that many cats, both in and out of RiverClan, will mourn him.”
Suspicion ran through Mothwing, and she unsheathed her claws, digging at the earth of the clearing. Hawkfrost was dead. Surely RiverClan would rise up against these ThunderClan cats who had brought his body here. Mothwing trembled, her body shaking with grief and rage.
But Leopardstar bowed her head solemnly. “He was a great warrior and a loyal RiverClan cat,” she meowed. “Thank you for bringing Hawkfrost home, but I ask you to leave now so that we can sit vigil for him.”
“Of course.” Firestar glanced at his Clanmates. In response, Squirrelflight and Bramblestar moved toward the camp entrance, but Leafpool stayed where she was.
“I need to speak to Mothwing,” she announced.
Leopardstar’s eyes widened in surprise, but she only replied, “That’s Mothwing’s choice.” Mothwing walked toward the medicine den, gesturing with her tail for Leafpool to follow. Her paws felt as heavy as stones. She was aware of Willowpaw hurrying behind them.
When they were safely inside the medicine den, she rounded on Leafpool. “What happened?” she growled again. The ThunderClan cat hesitated, and Mothwing went on, desperately, “Please don’t lie to me, Leafpool. My brother was a dangerous cat. But I have to know the truth.”
Leafpool swallowed hard. Then she glanced at Willowpaw.
“You can speak freely in front of Willowpaw,” Mothwing told her. She trusted her apprentice.
Willowpaw nodded solemnly. “I would never betray one of Mothwing’s secrets,” she said. Mothwing knew that to be true. Willowpaw had guessed Mothwing’s greatest secret—that she didn’t speak to StarClan. But instead of revealing what she knew, her apprentice had simply stepped up and taken care of that aspect of a medicine cat’s duties herself.
Leafpool hesitated, then finally spoke, her voice almost a whisper. “Hawkfrost tried to kill Firestar,” she mewed, and Mothwing froze, horrified.
“He wouldn’t,” she protested hoarsely, but something inside her insisted: He would.
“He led him into a fox trap and told Brambleclaw to kill him so that Brambleclaw could become leader of ThunderClan,” Leafpool went on. “But Brambleclaw wouldn’t do it. He saved Firestar instead. Hawkfrost attacked Brambleclaw, and Brambleclaw put the stick at the end of the fox trap through Hawkfrost’s throat.” She looked miserable. “Brambleclaw was just defending himself. And Firestar.”
Mothwing squeezed her eyes shut. It was true, she knew it. She remembered Hawkfrost’s voice, saying that one day he and Brambleclaw would lead the Clans together. He hadn’t been willing to wait. She felt sick.
Leafpool’s tail brushed across her back. “I’m so sorry, Mothwing,” she continued. “Only a few of us know, and we’ll keep how Hawkfrost died a secret. There’s no reason to hurt RiverClan that way.”
Willowpaw came close on her other side, her pelt touching Mothwing’s, reassuring her. “He wasn’t all bad,” she meowed softly. “RiverClan knows there was more to Hawkfrost than ambition.”
Was there? Mothwing thought bleakly. She remembered the eager kit her brother had been, and how devastated he had been at Tadpole’s death. She and Hawkpaw had clung to each other when they were apprentices, abandoned by their mother, with no other cat to depend on. But Hawkfrost had changed.
He had decided they would stay in RiverClan when Sasha left. He had faked the sign that made sure Mothwing was chosen to become a medicine cat. He had lied and schemed, grasping at power.
Mothwing moaned and collapsed to the floor, pushing her face between her paws. Was that a tiny thread of relief running through her? Now she didn’t have to worry about what Hawkfrost would do, or what terrible thing he would try to make her do. And now she knew that no cat would ever reveal her secret: that she had never been chosen by StarClan, that she couldn’t even bring herself to believe in them. Only Leafpool and Willowpaw knew, and she trusted them utterly.