“It was necessary,” she replied with a shrug. “In the end, my loyalty was greater than his.”
Breezepelt took a pace forward and loomed over her. “We may be in the same Clan here, but I am not your Clanmate,” he snarled. “You will be punished for this. Wait and see.”
A cold stone of dread weighed in Ivypool’s belly. She knew that Breezepelt meant every word of what he said. But it was too late to bring Antpelt back. And too late for Ivypool to hide from what she had done. She had broken the warrior code by killing another cat—and she had to believe that it was the right thing to do.
Every sacrifice I make is for the good of my Clan—and for the other Clans around the lake. Even if that means sacrificing myself.
Chapter 19
Lionblaze brushed through the barrier of thorns and headed into the forest, his ears pricked for the sound of intruders. Hazeltail and Rosepetal followed him, and Cinderheart brought up the rear. As he led the way down toward the shore where the WindClan border stream flowed into the lake, Lionblaze heard muttered conversation behind him.
“Who’d have thought that Hollyleaf killed Ashfur?” Hazeltail whispered. “Isn’t it awful? How did she ever keep it a secret?”
“Well, she left soon after,” Foxleap pointed out. “Do you think she was brave or a coward to run away like that?”
There was a heartbeat’s pause before Hazeltail replied. “She must have been brave, because she came back…”
Her voice trailed off as Lionblaze swung around and fixed his two Clanmates with a glare. Hazeltail exchanged a quick glance with Foxleap before giving her chest fur a couple of embarrassed licks.
So you’ve just remembered that Hollyleaf is my sister, Lionblaze thought, but he said nothing.
By the time they reached the WindClan border and headed upstream, both Hazeltail and Foxleap were fully alert, their ears swiveling, their gaze flicking back and forth along the undergrowth, and their jaws parted to pick up the tiniest trace of WindClan scent on ThunderClan territory. Watching them with approval, Lionblaze couldn’t help noticing how distracted Cinderheart was, drifting along as if she weren’t seeing or scenting anything in the forest. When he warned the others about a bramble stretching across their path, and heard Foxleap passing the message back, Cinderheart still managed to get tangled in it.
“Are you okay?” Lionblaze asked her.
“Fine!” she snapped, pulling herself free and leaving tufts of fur behind.
Lionblaze blinked at her uncharacteristically sharp tone. For a heartbeat he wished he had been put on a different patrol, or even ordered to fetch bedding for the elders. But then his concern for Cinderheart overwhelmed his brief annoyance. If she was behaving like this, there must be something wrong.
A few fox-lengths farther upstream, Lionblaze noticed that Cinderheart had wandered away from the border and was standing belly-deep in long grass, her eyes wide and unfocused. He let the others go ahead and padded through the grass toward her.
“WindClan patrol ahead!” he hissed.
Instantly Cinderheart was alert, her neck fur fluffing up as she gazed around. “Where?”
“Nowhere,” Lionblaze meowed. “I was just testing to see if you were awake.”
Cinderheart’s fur bristled even more. “You’re not my mentor,” she growled. “You don’t have to keep checking on me.”
Lionblaze opened his jaws to ask her what was wrong, but the anger in her eyes told him to keep quiet. Instead he walked on, noticing that at least Cinderheart seemed to be concentrating now.
By the time they reached the stretch of territory where the hidden tunnels emerged, there had been no sign of WindClan or Sol. Without warning the others, Lionblaze slipped away briefly to check the tunnel entrances. No need to tell every cat where they are. Some of them might be mouse-brained enough to mount an attack on WindClan from our side.
As he sniffed at the tunnel openings, he thought of Heathertail, and wondered if she knew about Sol’s plotting. Would she use her knowledge of the tunnels to help in her Clan’s attack? Did Heathertail have any trace of loyalty to Lionblaze, or would she take delight in hurting his Clan because the friendship they once shared had turned to dust?
Returning to his patrol, Lionblaze looked at Cinderheart and sighed. Why do relationships have to be so complicated?
Sunhigh was approaching as the patrol returned to camp, with nothing to report. As they came in sight of the hollow, Lionblaze heard shrieks and wailing coming from the clearing.
“Something’s wrong!” he yowled.
With his patrol hard on his paws he raced for the entrance. Are WindClan warriors attacking? Now, when the patrols are out and the camp is almost empty?
But when he burst out of the thorns, there were no WindClan cats to be seen. The few ThunderClan cats who were not on duty were gathered in a ragged circle in the center of the clearing; Lionblaze thrust his way between Daisy and Ferncloud to see what was going on. In the middle of the circle, Mousewhisker and Cherrypaw were lying on the ground, writhing in pain, their legs flailing and their tails curled up in agony. There was foam on the lips of both cats, and their eyes were glazed with pain.
“What happened?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” Poppyfrost replied, her eyes wide and scared. “They came back a few moments ago and collapsed like this.”
“My kit!” Daisy whispered, blinking anxiously at Mousewhisker. Ferncloud comforted her with the touch of her tail on Daisy’s shoulder.
“Had… bellyache,” Mousewhisker gasped. “Think the mouse we shared last night was… going off a bit.”
“It hurts!” Cherrypaw wailed. Helplessly she stretched out a paw toward Poppyfrost, as if she were begging her mother for help.
“Where’s Jayfeather?” Lionblaze snapped.
“Out in the forest somewhere,” Molepaw meowed, gazing at his littermate with horrified eyes. “He and Brightheart went to check on the herbs he’s growing.”
“Go and find him,” Lionblaze ordered. “Try the old Twoleg nest first.”
Molepaw nodded and raced off, looking relieved to have something to do. Lionblaze hesitated, uncertain what more he could do, then staggered as Leafpool shoved past him.
“What have you eaten?” she demanded, bending over Cherrypaw.
“Mousewhisker said they shared a rotting mouse last night,” Lionblaze explained.
Leafpool flashed him a glance from her amber eyes. “A mouse shouldn’t cause this.” She was tense, but in control, her medicine cat skills surging back to meet the emergency.
“Didn’t want to bother Jayfeather. We ate some parsley… cure the bellyache.” Mousewhisker forced the words out between his teeth.
“Parsley?” Leafpool bent to sniff the foam around Cherrypaw’s lips. “That wasn’t parsley, it was water hemlock.”
“Is that bad?” Lionblaze asked, already knowing the answer.
“There’s nothing more poisonous in the whole forest, except for deathberries,” Leafpool replied. “I need herbs to make them vomit.”
But she didn’t head for Jayfeather’s den. Instead, she braced her paws on Cherrypaw’s legs, trying to stop her from thrashing around.
“What are you doing?” Poppyfrost hissed.
“They have to keep still,” Leafpool told her. “If they flail around like this they could choke on their tongues.”