On the first day of sunshine, Doestar summoned her Clanmates to give the apprentices their warrior names. “They have fought hunger alongside us,” she declared, “with the courage of lions and the loyalty of true warriors. Moonflower, Poppydawn, Heronwing, and Rabbitleap, your Clan welcomes you.”
Goosefeather cheered his sister’s new name with a burst of pride. She had never given up hope during the hungry moons, never stopped looking for food or caring for her Clanmates. Then Goosefeather saw Stormtail watching Moonflower with a light in his eyes that made Goosefeather’s stomach clench. Of all the warriors, would Moonflower choose him as her mate? Goosefeather didn’t need a vision of the future to know the answer.
Beside him, Cloudberry wheezed, breaking into his thoughts. Goosefeather turned to his mentor.
“Go lie down in the sun,” he urged. “I’m going to forage for catmint today. You should take some.”
Cloudberry shook her head. “I’m fine,” she rasped. “But it’s a good idea to look for herbs.
Specklekit was complaining of bellyache this morning. I think it’s because she’s had a good feed from Rainfur for the first time since her mother died, but we could give her something to ease the pain.”
Rainfur had brought the kits into the clearing to watch the warrior ceremony. The queen had suckled all five since Harepounce’s death, and she looked like a ragged pelt draped over empty bones. But the kits had survived, and Rainfur was given first choice of every piece of fresh-kill now that prey was returning to the forest.
“See if you can find some chervil, too,” Cloudberry added.
Goosefeather looked at her in surprise. “Is there sickness in the camp?”
“It’s always good to have some in stock,” Cloudberry replied carefully, but Goosefeather saw her gaze flit to Doestar, who was climbing down from Highrock. The leader looked as thin as her Clanmates, her pelt ragged and her breath rasping in her chest. As she passed Goosefeather, he realized that her eyes were sore and oozing, and she smelled faintly of the dirtplace, as if she had made one visit too many.
“Is Doestar sick?” he whispered to Cloudberry.
The medicine cat was watching Doestar limp into her den. “I will care for her myself,” she announced without directly answering. “Let no other cat into the den. Food and soaked moss must be left outside. And whatever herbs you can find, bring them straight to me.” She paused and looked at Goosefeather. “Don’t let any cat know that Doestar is ill. This is her last life, and it would panic them too much to think of losing their leader now.” She rested her tail on Goosefeather’s shoulder. “A medicine cat keeps many secrets,” she murmured.
Goosefeather ran into the forest and gathered every medicine he could find, even alder bark, which was used for toothache, and blackberry leaves, which eased bee stings. He figured nothing could hurt Doestar now, and one of them might help unexpectedly. Back at the camp he sent
Moonflower for soaked moss; the she-cat grew round-eyed with worry at the urgency in Goosefeather’s tone, but he told her that Doestar was merely exhausted and needed to rest to regain her strength.
He chose the biggest mouse from the newly stocked fresh-kill pile and dragged the food and wet moss to the entrance to the den beneath Highrock. “Cloudberry!” he called softly.
The white cat peeked out. “Are you alone?” she rasped. Goosefeather nodded. “Good. Let no other cat come near.” Cloudberry reached out and pulled the mouse toward her. Then she looked at Goosefeather. “Will you stay here tonight?” she asked quietly. “I… I’d like to know you are close by.”
“Of course,” Goosefeather whispered. He pushed the soaked moss into the mouth of the den, then circled to make a scoop in the earth that was comfortable enough for sleeping. He rested his chin on his paws and watched the stars strengthen in the darkening sky. StarClan, watch over Doestar, he prayed. She has suffered so much. Let her live to see her Clan grow well again.
He was woken at dawn by a stir of movement at the mouth of the den. Cloudberry stood there, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. “She’s gone.”
Goosefeather swallowed the lump of grief that rose in his throat. “Shall I help you wash her?”
Cloudberry shook her head. “I’ll do it. And no other cat must come near her during the vigil.
Whatever Doestar had, we cannot let it spread. We are all too weak to fight this sickness.”
What about you? Goosefeather wanted to wail. But he said nothing. He knew what Cloudberry was doing, and he could only honor her by following her wishes exactly.
As the sun began to slide behind the treetops, Cloudberry hauled Doestar out of the den.
Goosefeather had already warned his Clanmates to stay back, so the cats watched in horrified silence as Cloudberry staggered across the clearing, her jaws clenched firmly in Doestar’s creamy ruff. She stopped in the center of the clearing and looked around. “You can honor our leader without putting yourselves in danger from her sickness,” she rasped. “Please, for your own sake, stay back.” She lay down and rested her nose against Doestar’s cheek. The leader’s clouded eyes stared up at the sky.
One by one, the ThunderClan cats walked past at a careful distance. Fallowsong was coughing, and Goosefeather reminded himself to give her catmint. She didn’t have greencough yet, but he wasn’t prepared to wait. When he looked at Doestar’s unmoving body, he saw another cat stretched out beside her, cold and lifeless, thick white fur stirring faintly in the breeze. They would be sitting vigil for Cloudberry soon, leaving him as ThunderClan’s only medicine cat. Lying down at the edge of the clearing, he dozed off, trying to recall all the herbs he needed to restock his stores.
Cloudberry woke him at dawn. “I will bury Doestar,” she told him. “You must take Pineheart to the Moonstone for his nine lives ceremony. I am too weak to make the journey. You know what to do, don’t you?”
Numb, Goosefeather nodded. He felt as if Cloudberry were being pulled away from him, growing more and more distant until she was only a claw-point of light in swirling darkness. As if she could read his thoughts, Cloudberry mewed, “You have been a good apprentice, Goosefeather, and you will be a good medicine cat. Trust your instincts and remember everything I have taught you.” She leaned her forehead against him. “Good-bye, my friend.”
Goosefeather struggled to speak around the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.
“But I must leave you,” Cloudberry replied. “You are not the only cat who is powerless to change the future.” She lifted her head and gazed at him. “I don’t envy you what you can see, Goosefeather.
You must learn to live with the most terrible knowledge. Put your Clan first in all things, and may
StarClan light your path, always.”
She turned away, leaving Goosefeather chilled with sorrow. Pineheart padded up to him. “Shall we go?” he asked softly. The red-brown tom’s eyes were wet with grief. He glanced at Doestar’s body. “I never thought this would happen so soon,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I will be half the leader she was.”
“Doestar will watch over you from StarClan,” mewed Goosefeather. “You’ll be fine.”
“Really?” There was a flicker of hope in Pineheart’s eyes. “Have you had a vision?”
Distracted by the sight of Cloudberry bending over the dead leader once more, Goosefeather nodded. Then he braced himself. “Come, we have a long journey ahead of us.” He led Pineheart out of the camp, feeling the gazes of his Clanmates burning into his fur. They were the new leader and medicine cat. The future lay on their shoulders.