The sound of coughing came from the cave at the foot of the cliffs. Jayfeather looked grim. “I think Hazeltail has greencough. She has a fever, and I don’t like the way her heart is racing.”
There was a gasp behind Dovewing. She turned to see Millie trotting from the entrance, having finished her post on guard. “What about Briarlight? She can’t stay in your den if there’s a cat with greencough in there!” She ran over to the cave. “Briarlight! Come out at once!”
There was a pause, then Briarlight’s dark brown face poked through the brambles. “What’s the matter?” she asked sleepily.
“I don’t want you in there if Hazeltail has greencough!” Millie ordered. “We’ll have to find you somewhere else to sleep.”
Briarlight dragged herself out of the den with her strong front legs. As always, Dovewing felt a spasm of sadness as she saw the she-cat’s haunches trailing uselessly behind her. “I wouldn’t mind being somewhere a bit quieter,” Briarlight admitted as she crawled into the clearing. “Poor Hazeltail hasn’t stopped coughing since she arrived!” She stopped to twist and bite an itchy spot on her spine. “Besides, I don’t need to stay in the medicine den now, surely? I’m not ill!”
Leafpool emerged from the cave with a bundle of soiled moss in her jaws. She put it down and looked at Jayfeather. “Briarlight’s right, you know,” she meowed. “We don’t need to watch over her at night anymore.”
Briarlight twisted around to look at Bramblestar, who had finished stretching and was licking his chest fur. “Can I sleep in the warriors’ den, Bramblestar? Please?”
The leader frowned. “I’m not sure there’s room,” he admitted. “It’s still pretty crowded in there.”
By now, other cats had woken and come into the clearing, where they were stretching and arching their backs, ready for the first patrols. Purdy had emerged from his den and was listening as he smoothed his sleep-ruffled fur. “She’s welcome to join us in here,” he called, nodding toward the elder thicket where there were sounds of Berrynose and his family stirring.
Briarlight’s head drooped. It was obvious she wanted to join the warriors in their den.
“Why don’t I join you, Purdy, then Briarlight can have my nest?” Dovewing offered.
Bumblestripe came up to her looking startled. “But I’d miss sleeping next to you!”
“It won’t be for long,” Dovewing told him. “Squirrelflight is planning to build a second den for the warriors, remember?”
“Thanks, Dovewing!” purred Briarlight. “Can I go see my new nest now?” When Dovewing nodded, Briarlight hauled herself to the warriors’ den and disappeared inside, leaving a scuffed trail on the earth.
She reappeared a moment later looking serious. “It’s the right size for me, but it needs fresh bedding,” she commented. “Please can I have some pigeon feathers?”
Lionblaze dipped his head. “Why yes, leader. Anything else I can bring you? The finest fresh-kill perhaps? Soaked moss?” His tone was good-humored and teasing.
Blossomfall bristled. “Briarlight has to have the softest nest,” she insisted. “She can’t feel thorns sticking into her, remember? If she gets a wound, it could get infected before she noticed.”
Lionblaze rested his tail-tip on Blossomfall’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I understand. Squirrelflight, is it okay if I take a patrol to fetch bedding for Briarlight? We can go hunting straight after.”
The deputy nodded. “Take Dovewing, Ivypool, and Rosepetal with you. Make sure none of the moss is damp before you line her nest. And feel free to hunt a pigeon so we can use the feathers.”
Dovewing purred. This was a duty she would enjoy!
Briarlight’s blue eyes shone. “Thank you! I promise I’ll be useful. I can wake everyone for dawn patrols, and check nests for thorns while you’re out. There’s no reason I can’t have duties of my own now. I am a warrior, after all!”
Chapter 8
The warriors enjoyed only two nights of peace after the Gathering before Toadstep started coughing. This time Dovewing struggled to feel sympathetic. He knew he was getting sick! He should have gone to Jayfeather!
Hazeltail was still being nursed in the medicine cats’ den, but as Toadstep didn’t seem quite as sick, Jayfeather and Leafpool made a nest for him in the apprentices’ den with Sandstorm. Squirrelflight announced that she was moving back to the warriors’ den, saying that it made sense to let the coughing cats keep themselves awake. But Dovewing saw past the deputy’s lighthearted comment to the strain in her eyes, and she wondered how many more cats would succumb to the illness.
Leafpool stood over the fresh-kill pile, making sure each cat was eating properly. When Dovewing selected a rather scrawny mouse, Leafpool reached out with one paw and stopped her. “I’ll have that,” she meowed. “You and Bumblestripe can share this squirrel.”
Dovewing looked at the plump, fluffy creature. “It’s huge!” she pointed out. “We could eat that for a whole moon!”
“Share it with Purdy, then,” Leafpool urged.
Dovewing dragged the squirrel over to the tree stump, trying not to sneeze as the wispy tail tickled her nose. Purdy licked his lips. “What a feast!” he commented.
“Bumblestripe, join us!” Dovewing called. The big gray tom trotted over with Sandstorm at his heels.
“Is there enough for me?” she asked hoarsely. She looked tired, and Dovewing could count her ribs along her bony sides.
“O’ course!” Purdy grunted with his mouth full. He shifted to let Sandstorm take a bite from the squirrel’s juicy rump. Swallowing, the old tom watched as Toadstep shuffled into the apprentices’ den, followed by Jayfeather with a clump of fresh bedding. “Putting you and Toadstep together reminds me o’ the time Firestar took all them sick cats to the old Twoleg den,” he remarked. “That were a brave thing he did, keeping the rest of us from getting ill.”
Sandstorm’s eyes clouded. “It cost him a life, too,” she recalled.
“Do you think we’ll do that again, if more cats start coughing?” Dovewing asked as she scraped a stringy piece of meat from between her teeth.
Sandstorm shook her head. “I doubt it. I don’t want to infect anyone else, but it wouldn’t help to be in that drafty old den. Better for all of us to be close to the medicine cats.” She looked down at her paws as if she’d lost her appetite, and Dovewing felt bad for making her think back to that terrible time of sickness.
She glanced around the clearing. Although it was sunhigh, the sky was thick with clouds and the breeze smelled of rain. The cats huddled over their food, their fur blown all ways so that they resembled pine cones more than sleek, well-groomed warriors. A flash of movement caught Dovewing’s eye. Blossomfall was slipping through the barrier, not using the usual gap but forcing a new way at one side of the entrance. The fur pricked along Dovewing’s spine. Was Blossomfall trying not to be seen? She battled briefly with a stir of suspicion and cast out her senses, trying to picture the she-cat on the other side of the barrier. She felt the familiar jolt of dismay as no pictures appeared in her mind, and nothing came to her above the sounds of her Clanmates eating. She shook the feeling away. Where is Blossomfall going? There was only one way to find out.
Nodding to the other cats around the squirrel, she stood up. “I’m just going to the dirtplace,” she whispered to Bumblestripe to deter him from following her. She used the normal gap through the barrier, noting with relief that it was becoming less prickly. Outside the hollow, the trees clashed in the rising wind, and even though most of the leaves had fallen into heaps on the ground, little daylight seeped down to the forest floor. Dovewing trotted through the shadows, following Blossomfall’s scent trail on the leaf mulch. Her heart was pounding and she kept her ears flattened, listening for sounds of danger. The buzzing noise had stopped but her senses still felt dull and heavy, and the half-lit forest seemed far more daunting and secretive than it ever had before.