Bristlefrost drew back from the den and pelted across the camp toward the tumbled rocks that led up to the Highledge. Before Bristlefrost had climbed halfway up, Squirrelflight appeared at the entrance.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice tight with strain.
“Alderheart wants you,” Bristlefrost gasped, her paws skidding as she turned back, so she barely saved herself from falling.
She heard a choking sound from Squirrelflight before the Clan deputy bounded down the rocks, overtaking Bristlefrost as she raced back toward the medicine cats’ den.
When Bristlefrost slipped, panting, back into the den, she found the two medicine cats where she had left them beside the Clan leader. Squirrelflight had joined them, and stood gazing down at Bramblestar, her green eyes filled with pain.
“So the borage didn’t work,” she mewed; Bristlefrost could tell how much effort she was making to keep her voice steady.
“No,” Alderheart responded. “There’s only one way to save Bramblestar now.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at him. “Shadowpaw’s treatment?”
Alderheart nodded silently.
“You’re flea-brained if you even consider that,” Jayfeather snapped, working his claws into the moss and bracken in the floor of the den.
“Squirrelflight.” Alderheart’s voice still held that ring of authority, as if he were a much older and more experienced cat. “Bramblestar is dying. And we have no idea what will happen when he loses a life, seeing that no cat can make contact with StarClan—except, maybe, Shadowpaw. Trying his treatment would at least give Bramblestar one last chance.”
Jayfeather let out a huff of annoyance and turned away. “Don’t expect me to go along with this,” he snarled.
Alderheart met Squirrelflight’s gaze steadily. “It’s your decision,” he told her. “What do you want to do?”
Chapter 20
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Pinebranch for a Clan meeting!”
Shadowpaw poked his head out of the medicine cats’ den to see his father sitting on the pine branch above his den, from which he always addressed the Clan. His paws were tucked underneath him, and his tail dangled. His father’s expression was grave.
Worry prickled beneath Shadowpaw’s pelt. “Now what’s happening?” he wondered aloud. I just hope I’m not at the center of it, for once. . . .
“Listen and you might find out,” Puddleshine told him, giving him a shove from behind. “But I’d bet a moon of dawn patrols it’s something to do with your visit to ThunderClan.”
Great. Shadowpaw thought that his mentor must be right. He cringed when he thought of how Squirrelflight had denied that Bramblestar was sick, and how no cat had believed him when he’d told them what to do to save their leader. They thought I was trying to kill him! They really thought I could be that . . . evil!
He padded out of the den with Puddleshine a paw step behind him and found a spot to sit near Lightleap and Pouncestep. Cloverfoot and Tawnypelt turned away from the fresh-kill pile and joined Dovewing near the bottom of the tree. Cloverfoot looked apprehensive; Shadowpaw guessed that Tigerstar had already confided in his deputy what he was going to say.
Oakfur emerged slowly from the elders’ den and plopped down just outside it, raising one hind leg to give himself a vigorous scratch behind his ear. Cinnamontail and Berryheart appeared from the warriors’ den with more of their Clanmates behind them, to form a ragged circle beneath the Pinebranch where Tigerstar was waiting.
The Clan leader let his amber gaze travel around his Clan before he rose to his paws and spoke. “Cats of ShadowClan, once again we have been the victim of a grave deception! A fox-hearted betrayal!” He paused. Murmurs of shock and disgust wormed their way through the crowd, but Shadowpaw felt only surprise.
Tigerstar lifted his head. “Therefore,” he went on, “I’ve decided that my only choice is to close our borders. So we’ll be doubling our patrols, and renewing our scent markers twice as often. And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what to do with any cat who dares set paw on our territory. From now on—”
“Just a moment,” Tawnypelt interrupted, her ears flicking up indignantly. “What happened? You can’t do this without telling us why. That would be mouse-brained.”
Tigerstar narrowed his eyes as he gazed down at the tortoiseshell she-cat. Shadowpaw winced at the way she was addressing her Clan leader, then reflected that as Tawnypelt had once been deputy, she was used to expressing her opinion. Not to mention that she was the leader’s mother. And a pretty outspoken cat.
Before Tigerstar could respond, Oakfur paused in his scratching. “Things didn’t exactly go well when WindClan and RiverClan decided to close their borders recently,” he pointed out. “They just helped Darktail and his Kin to grow more powerful.”
“That’s right!” Snowbird agreed. “We need to know more before we do this.”
A chorus of yowls broke out, as more cats demanded that Tigerstar explain himself. Finally the Clan leader had to raise his tail for silence.
“I’ve just learned that the other Clans have banded together to defile the Moonpool by trying to break the ice,” he explained. “Their scheme failed, which is no great surprise . . . but, needless to say, I am disgusted by this snubbing of our Clan. The other Clans have tried to cut us off from the Moonpool because they don’t trust Shadowpaw,” he went on. “They don’t trust that a ShadowClan cat could have such a connection with StarClan. But they’re wrong about that! I know it, and soon the other Clans will know it, too. Shadowpaw has special powers. . . .”
Shadowpaw hunched his shoulders in embarrassment as his father continued to proclaim how sensitive he was, how many visions he had had, and how valuable his link to StarClan would prove for his Clan.
I’m not like that at all. I’m just a medicine-cat apprentice, and I don’t know what’s going on, any more than any cat!
Worse, he worried that his Clanmates didn’t agree with their leader. He caught the doubtful glances they were casting at him. Even Puddleshine was looking at him thoughtfully. His mentor had defended him before, but was he regretting that now?
Strikestone cleared his throat to speak first. “Shadowpaw is unusual,” he began. Tigerstar shifted and cast an angry glare at the white tom. But Strikestone lifted a paw, indicating he wasn’t done. “But he’s ours—and in my mind, there’s no doubt that a ShadowClan cat could be singled out by StarClan.”
To Shadowpaw’s surprise, this time murmurs of agreement hummed through the crowd. Yarrowleaf purred, looking at him with fond eyes. “Shadowpaw is good,” she agreed. “He and my kits grew up together. Maybe it’s unusual for StarClan to communicate with only one cat, but why shouldn’t it be Shadowpaw?”
This time cats were nodding, meowing their agreement. Other cats spoke up in support, but Shadowpaw’s mind wandered. The certainty in their voices only made him feel more unsure. He knew they loved ShadowClan . . . but did that make him right? The visions he had received were so clear, just as if he were talking to a living cat. Shadowpaw knew that StarClan didn’t usually communicate like that. But what other way was there to explain it?
If I’m not being given these visions to save the Clans, Shadowpaw wondered, then why am I having them? He remembered Spiresight, whom he had met when he was a kit living inside the big Twoleg den, and remembered too how Spiresight had been treated by the other cats who lived there. Dovewing had said that Spiresight was a medicine cat in a group that didn’t understand medicine cats. The cats who lived at the Twoleg den saw his visions as crazy and believed there was something wrong with him.