But a small worm of apprehension nagged in her belly. Medicine cats don’t have the same Clan boundaries that we do. What’s gone wrong?
Looking around, she saw Tornear and Webfoot from WindClan sharing tongues with Tallpoppy from ShadowClan, and wondered if the elders were discussing the Great Journey, which seemed to be their favorite subject when they met at Gatherings. Two or three apprentices had started a mock fight at one side of the clearing. Sedgewhisker and Petalfur were deep in conversation, maybe sharing memories of the battle against the beavers. Dovewing’s sense of uneasiness faded.
“Hey, Bumblestripe!” Grasspelt, a young RiverClan tom, bounced up. “What’s happened to Briarlight? I haven’t seen her at a Gathering for moons!”
Bumblestripe looked startled. Firestar had never announced Briarlight’s injuries at a Gathering; Dovewing guessed he thought it would make her, and ThunderClan, seem vulnerable. And this wasn’t the right time to pass on the news to other Clans.
“Oh, you know,” she jumped in, saving Bumblestripe from having to reply. “She’s fine, but she’s busy, like the rest of us.”
Grasspelt blinked. “Okay,” he meowed, sounding disappointed, and headed off toward his own Clan.
Bumblestripe let out a long sigh as he watched the young tom pad away. “Thanks,” he murmured to Dovewing.
Dovewing shrugged. “I was only telling the truth.”
Bumblestripe’s eyes widened. “You know you weren’t.”
Dovewing could hear the pain in his voice. She reached out with her tail and touched him gently on the shoulder. “It must be hard for you, to see your sister injured like that.”
“You don’t know what it’s like.” Bumblestripe bowed his head.
“Oh, yes, I do.” Dovewing was thinking of Ivypool. I worry about my sister, too.
“I try not to feel sorry for Briarlight,” Bumblestripe went on. “I know that’s the last thing she’d want. But I do feel sorry for her. Even though I’m really proud of her for fighting on when she knows there’s no hope that she’ll ever walk again.”
“I’m sure Briarlight would understand,” Dovewing responded awkwardly, wishing there was something more she could say to ease her Clanmate’s grief. “She’s lucky to have such a great littermate.”
Bumblestripe blinked, his eyes shining. “Thanks, Dovewing.”
Mintfur and Robinwing from RiverClan padded up, dipping their heads as they approached. “How’s the prey running in ThunderClan?” Mintfur inquired.
Dovewing stepped back a pace as Bumblestripe replied, and glanced around the clearing at the groups of cats. I’m not looking for Tigerheart. Not at all! Heading for the island’s dirtplace, she found herself close to a thornbush where Webfoot and Tornear were sharing tongues with Tallpoppy.
“…never seen wounds like them, outside a battle,” Webfoot was meowing.
“Poor Antpelt,” Tallpoppy murmured. “I met him at the last Gathering, and he seemed such a promising young cat. How did he come to be hurt?”
Tornear shook his head. “No cat knows, and Antpelt isn’t fit to tell us. It must have been a dog, though. The bites aren’t healing, and he’s very sick.”
Webfoot’s voice was hushed as he added, “Kestrelflight doesn’t expect him to pull through.”
Poor WindClan, Dovewing thought sympathetically. I’m glad we don’t see many dogs in ThunderClan territory.
Their voices died away behind her as she pushed through the bushes to the dirtplace. As she finished making her dirt and scratched earth over it, she heard Brambleclaw’s yowl.
“ThunderClan! It’s time to leave.”
Heading out through the bushes, Dovewing spotted a shadow across her path; as she drew closer Tigerheart stepped forward to cut her off.
“We need to talk,” he meowed.
“We have nothing left to say to each other,” Dovewing hissed.
“Please!” Tigerheart’s amber eyes were wide and distressed. “I didn’t use you, I promise I didn’t. Okay, I told Blackstar about Jayfeather’s herbs, but that doesn’t change how I felt about you.” He paused and added in a lower voice, “How I still feel about you.”
Dovewing worked her front claws into the ground. Agitation prickled beneath her pelt, a terrible temptation to give in to Tigerheart and believe what he was telling her. “We can’t talk about this now,” she replied defensively. “Not when any cat could hear us.”
“Then meet me in the usual place,” Tigerheart urged her.
“No. Tigerheart, I don’t have any feelings left for you.” Dovewing’s heart was heavy as she lied.
Anger glowed in the ShadowClan tom’s eyes. “Has your sister been saying things about me?”
Shock crackled through Dovewing. “Like what?”
“Never mind. But maybe you don’t know your sister as well as you think you do.”
Dovewing stared at him. He can’t mean that Ivypool is training in the Dark Forest. Tigerheart knows I know.
Suddenly Tigerheart drew closer to her, so that his familiar scent flooded over her. “Ivypool isn’t the cat you think she is,” he murmured.
And I’m not the cat you think I am. Dovewing wanted to speak the words aloud, but somehow Tigerheart’s gentleness frightened her. It’s as if he’s sorry for me, and wants to help me!
To her relief, another yowl from Brambleclaw broke into their conversation, calling the ThunderClan cats together.
“I have to go,” Dovewing mewed. “And I don’t want to listen to another word from you.”
Tigerheart didn’t protest, just dipped his head as she stalked away. But even though she had escaped from him, Dovewing felt as though she had left half of herself behind.
Why can’t I get him out of my fur?
On the way back from the Gathering Dovewing noticed that Bumblestripe was padding alongside her, a bit closer than usual. But Tigerheart’s scent still wreathed around her; she still seemed to see his amber eyes gazing into hers, and hear the warmth of his meow.
She jumped when she realized that Bumblestripe was saying something. “What?” she snapped.
Bumblestripe blinked. “I—I only said I hope Ivypool can be with us next time.”
“Sorry.” Dovewing tried to push Tigerheart to the back of her mind. “I didn’t mean to sound sharp. I guess I’m just tired.”
Bumblestripe nodded. “Me too.”
He quickened his pace until he caught up to Berrynose and Mousewhisker. Dovewing padded along in silence for a few moments, until she realized that Blossomfall had taken her brother’s place at her side.
“You know, you’ve stolen my brother’s heart,” the young tortoiseshell warrior murmured. Her tone was teasing, but the gaze she turned on Dovewing was serious.
It sounded as if there was a warning in her words. “Bumblestripe? You’re not serious!” When Blossomfall didn’t reply, Dovewing added, “Honestly, I’m sure he doesn’t think of me like that.”
To her relief, Blossomfall seemed to accept what she said. “It’s great that you’re a warrior now,” she went on. “We can go on patrol together, and all sorts of stuff!” Her eyes widened, reflecting the moonlight. “I don’t know how loners and rogues manage on their own, do you, Dovewing?”
“No, being a warrior is great,” Dovewing replied, but her heart wasn’t in her words. She wished that she could feel the same enthusiasm as Blossomfall.
What was Tigerheart trying to tell me? What could Ivypool be hiding?
Even before Dovewing slid into her den, she could hear her sister whimpering. Ivypool was twitching in her nest of bracken, her tail lashing from side to side. Dovewing crouched into the nest beside her and gave her shoulder a gentle shake.
“Hey, Ivypool, wake up!”