CHAPTER 13
Alderheart buried the deathberry seeds under the wall of the medicine den with the others. He glanced at the entrance hopefully. The half-moon gathering was tonight. Would Tigerstar let him go? He wanted to be there. He had important news.
Puddleshine was recovering, asleep in his nest now. The ShadowClan medicine cat’s fever had broken in the night. Alderheart still felt light-pawed with relief. His remedy had finally worked! The deathberry flesh he’d given Puddleshine this morning would be the last.
He cleaned his paws in the loose earth at the side of the medicine den. Then he carefully covered the crumbled patch with leaves and glanced over his shoulder at Shadowkit. “You have to stay away from this part of the den, remember?”
The gray kit nodded solemnly. Since his fit, Shadowkit had been helping Alderheart with his medicine-cat duties. Alderheart could hardly turn around without tripping over him. Was this how he’d been when he used to help Jayfeather? The thought amused him. He’d found work for the kit, and now Shadowkit was neatening nests, fetching herbs, and chasing spiders out of the den—often without Alderheart instructing him to do it. He just seems to know what to do.
Alderheart was secretly pleased that Tigerstar had let the kit spend so much time here. The ShadowClan leader had also stopped posting guards. Clearly Tigerstar was starting to trust him.
Paw steps sounded at the den entrance. Lightkit and Pouncekit crowded the doorway, their eyes bright with excitement.
“Shadowkit!” Pouncekit could hardly keep still. “Strikestone and Blazepaw have promised to give us badger rides around the clearing.”
“They’re going to race while we ride them!” Lightkit squeaked. “It’s going to be great.”
“You have to come!” Pouncekit looked pleadingly at Shadowkit. “You’ve missed all the fun since you’ve been helping Alderheart.”
“I’m having fun here,” Shadowkit told her.
Lightkit looked unconvinced. “How can looking after sick cats be as much fun as badger rides?”
“I’ve got a lot to learn,” Shadowkit told him. “I’m going to be a medicine cat one day.”
Alderheart’s chest tightened. He might not live long enough. The kit’s vision flashed in his mind. I could feel water pressing against my fur, in my ears, in my nose . . . in my mouth. . . . And yet Shadowkit was planning his future. His own vision did not fill him with any dread. If Shadowkit was destined to be a medicine cat, perhaps he had received not a prediction, but a warning.
Alderheart shook out his fur and told himself there would be time to figure that out. He hoped he was right. “One day you’ll be too old for badger rides,” he told Shadowkit.
“I don’t care.” The gray tom puffed out his chest. “I want to stay here and help you.”
Pouncekit rolled her eyes and nudged Lightkit out of the den. “We’re wasting our time. Let’s go and have some fun.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go and play?” Alderheart pressed. “You can come and help again afterward.”
“I want to stay here,” Shadowkit mewed firmly.
There was clearly no arguing with the kit. “In that case, fetch the marigold Cloverfoot gathered yesterday,” he told him. “It’s nearly time to re-dress Grassheart’s wound.”
“That’s the bright green one that smells like sour nettles, right?”
“Yes.”
As Shadowkit trotted to the herb store, Alderheart looked at Grassheart. She was asleep in a nest near the medicine den, where early morning sunshine streamed through the entrance. Alderheart had been treating her since she’d returned the day before with a claw wound on her flank. He’d treated Blazepaw, Strikestone, and Snaketooth at the same time. They had scratches, but Grassheart’s wound was so deep he’d kept her in the medicine den. The patrol said SkyClan had ambushed them. Alderheart thought it strange and wondered why SkyClan had provoked ShadowClan with such a bold attack. How would that help the tension between the two Clans?
“Is this it?” Shadowkit nosed a fresh bundle of green stems in front of the herb store.
“Yes.” Alderheart blinked approvingly. “Take two stems to Grassheart’s nest while I check on Puddleshine.” As he spoke, Puddleshine woke up and blinked at him drowsily over the edge of his nest. The medicine cat’s gaze was still clouded, and his pelt needed a good wash, but it was good to see him awake again. “Can you manage a mouthful?” Alderheart crossed the den and nosed a morsel of mouse closer to his muzzle.
Puddleshine lapped it doubtfully with his tongue. “It might take a while for my appetite to come back.”
“You need to get strong,” Alderheart told him.
“It’s enough to be awake,” Puddleshine murmured.
Alderheart checked his scratches once more. The sour smell had lifted, and the wounds were finally starting to heal. For the first time in days, Alderheart felt a rush of joy. As he sat back on his haunches and purred, Shadowkit trotted past him, a bunch of marigold stems flopping from his jaws, and headed toward Grassheart’s nest.
Puddleshine blinked at the fresh herbs, his nose twitching. “Those are too fresh to come from my store. Did you bring them with you?”
“Cloverfoot gathered them,” Alderheart told him.
Puddleshine’s eyes widened. “It’s not like Cloverfoot to help with medicine-cat duties. Did Tigerstar order her to do it?”
“She volunteered.”
Puddleshine gave a husky purr. “You’ve made yourself popular here,” he teased.
“I’ll be even more popular once I tell Tigerstar that you’re recovering.” Alderheart hadn’t had a chance to share the news with the ShadowClan leader.
Across the den, Grassheart groaned.
“She’s waking up!” Shadowkit mewed excitedly.
“I think you’d better go help your apprentice,” Puddleshine purred.
“He’ll be your apprentice soon.” Alderheart crossed the den.
“Shall I chew up the marigold?” Shadowkit picked up a stem in his teeth.
“You’re too young to be chewing up herbs,” Alderheart took it gently away. “Marigold is quite strong. It might make you feel sick.”
“Can I help rub the ointment into her wound then?”
Alderheart didn’t answer. Grassheart was lifting her head. She looked at him blearily, pain shadowing her eyes. “My side hurts.”
Alderheart checked the wound. “It’s not infected,” he told her. “It’ll feel better once I’ve put some fresh marigold on it.”
Shadowkit fluffed out his fur. “I’m going to help,” he told the tabby proudly.
Alderheart’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “You have a much more important job.”
“What?” Shadowkit stared at him.
“Grassheart and Puddleshine need water. I want you to take that moss”—he jerked his muzzle toward a bundle beside the den entrance—“carry it to the puddle next to the elders’ den, and give it a good soak. Then bring it back quickly before all the water drips out.”
“Okay!” Shadowkit raced to the moss, grabbed it between his jaws, and sprinted out of the den.
Quickly, Alderheart chewed a marigold stem. Then he lapped the pulp gently into Grassheart’s wound. She closed her eyes and seemed to drift back to sleep. It felt strange to be treating another Clan’s battle injuries. What would SkyClan say if they knew a ThunderClan cat was helping to heal their rivals? Would they think he was a traitor? It’s not my battle. Besides, medicine cats weren’t supposed to take sides. They were meant to save lives and ease suffering. If warriors wanted to fight, let them. Alderheart wasn’t going to refuse any cat care.