“But they might hurt each other!” Twigpaw gasped.
Mistcloud looked up. “If they do, it’s their own fault.”
Twigpaw raced toward the fighting cats. “Stop!” Hooking her claws into Birchpaw’s scruff, she hauled him away from his sister.
His eyes flashed with rage. He swung out at her and raked her m uzzle. Surprised, she staggered, pain scorching through her. Lionpaw j um ped to her paws and swiped at her, hissing.
Alarm spiraled into Twigpaw’s chest as both apprentices turned on her. She batted them away, try ing not to hurt them.
“Stop!” Tawny pelt’s y owl cut across the clearing. The she-cat bounded toward them, barging into the fight and pushing the ShadowClan apprentices away. “Crowfrost prom ised that she wouldn’t be hurt.”
As Twigpaw backed away, Violetpaw rushed to her side. “You should have just let them fight it out.”
Twigpaw stared at her sister, trem bling. “Is this normal?”
Violetpaw m et her gaze, puzzled. “Isn’t ThunderClan like this?”
“No!” Twigpaw could hardly believe her ears. She glanced around the clearing at the unruffled warriors and the scratched and bleeding apprentices. None of them seem ed shocked by what had happened. Whorlkit and Flowerkit were watching, their eyes bright with excitem ent.
“Why did you stop them?” Whorlkit hurried to Twigpaw’s side.
Flowerkit j oined him. “Now we won’t know who would have won.”
Twigpaw felt sick. I want to go home! She suddenly felt a surge of anxiety for Violetpaw. She grew up here. Is she like this too? No wonder she joined the rogues! As her thoughts swirled, the entrance to the warriors’ den trem bled and Puddleshine stum bled out.
The medicine cat’s eyes were clouded with exhaustion.
“How are the sick cats?” Tawny pelt padded toward him.
“I’m doing the best I can,” Puddleshine glanced back at the den. “I need more tansy and borage.”
“Lionpaw and Birchpaw can gather som e for y ou,” Tawny pelt told him.
Lionpaw huffed. “Do we have to? Herb gathering is boring.” She seem ed unruffled by her fight.
“Yes, you do,” Tawny pelt told her sternly. “Dawnpelt can go with you to make sure you don’t get distracted.”
“We’ll go when we’ve finished eating,” Lionpaw told the tortoiseshell. She leaned down and took a bite from the thrush, which was covered in dirt from the fight.
Birchpaw rubbed a streak of blood from his m uzzle and settled beside her to eat.
Twigpaw stared at them. Why had they fought over the thrush if they were going to share it any way? And how could they eat when their sick Clanmates needed herbs? “I can help.” She hurried to Puddleshine’s side. “I used to help Alderpaw. I know what borage and tansy look like. I can gather som e now if you like.”
“No.” Tawny pelt’s gaze flashed toward her. “You’re not to leave camp.”
“Then let m e do som ething else to help.” Twigpaw looked pleadingly at Puddleshine. His fur was dull and his ribs were showing through his pelt. He clearly hadn’t slept or eaten properly in day s. “I’ll fetch you som e food.” Twigpaw hurried to the fresh-kill pile and grabbed the shriveled m ouse. She carried it back to Puddleshine and dropped it at his paws. “Eat this. I’ll check on the sick cats.”
Puddleshine stared at her gratefully. “Oakfur needs water.”
“I can do that,” Twigpaw told him.
“Kinkfur too.” He crouched stiffly and began gnawing at the m ouse. “There’s m oss at the back of the warriors’ den, but it needs soaking.”
Twigpaw beckoned Violetpaw with a j erk of her nose. “Come and help.”
Tawny pelt was staring at her in surprise. “This is very kind of y ou.”
Twigpaw blinked at her. “Since I have to stay here, I might as well be useful.” Flicking her tail, she padded into the warriors’ den.
A sour stench hit her as she padded into the gloom.
Violetpaw followed her in. “Ewww.”
“Ignore the sm ell.” Twigpaw had spent enough time in ThunderClan’s medicine den to recognize the scent of sickness. But she’d never sm elled it this strongly before. She crouched beside the nest closest to the entrance. An old tom lay as lim p as prey, his fur m atted, on the stinking m oss. “Who’s this?” Twigpaw whispered to Violetpaw.
“It’s Oakfur,” Violetpaw told her. “One of our elders.” She m oved on to the next nest. “This is Kinkfur.” A ragged she-cat lolled restlessly in a filthy nest.
A few nests away, a black she-cat lifted her head weakly. “My throat hurts.”
Violetpaw blinked at her. “We’re going to fetch you water, Pinenose. It’ll help.” She padded between other nests, where cats lay m oaning, and stopped beside a sm all nest near the back to the den. A young queen crouched beside it, gazing anxiously at a she-kit squirm ing on the dam p bracken.
“Hi, Grassheart,” Violetpaw mewed softly. “How’s Snakekit?”
Grassheart blinked at her, her eyes glittering. “I’ve never seen her this ill.”
Snakekit m oaned, and Grassheart ran a soothing paw along her flank.
Twigpaw shivered. These cats were really sick! Suddenly she understood the desperation that had driven Crowfrost to keep her here. ShadowClan needed lungwort badly. Anger surged beneath her pelt. If only Onestar could see the suffering he was causing by his stubbornness!
She faced Violetpaw. “Where do you soak m oss?”
“There’s a puddle beside the elders’ den,” Violetpaw told her.
“Good.” Padding to the back of the den, Twigpaw spotted the pile of m oss Puddleshine had m entioned. She grabbed a thick wad between her jaws and headed out of the den.
Violetpaw followed, carry ing more. They passed Birchpaw and Lionpaw as they bounded out of camp behind Scorchfur and Tigerheart. Violetpaw slipped ahead and led Twigpaw to the puddle. The water was clear, pooled in a hollow lined with bracken. Twigpaw dropped her m oss in. “One we’ve m ade sure every cat has water, we can gather fresh bedding.” She glanced around the camp, relieved to see bracken crowding one corner.
Violetpaw blinked at her. “How do you know what to do?” She sounded im pressed.
“I used to hang out in the medicine den,” Twigpaw explained. “I guess I learned a lot.” She leaned down and plucked the dripping m oss from the puddle, then hurried back toward the den.
As Violetpaw carried m oss to Pinenose’s nest, Twigpaw crouched beside Oakfur. The old tom’s eyes were closed. She nosed the wet m oss closer to his cheek. “Can you lap just a little?” she coaxed.
Oakfur grunted, not opening his eyes. Lifting the m oss between her teeth, Twigpaw held it to the tom’s lips, pressing it gently so that water ran into his m outh. Oakfur twitched and coughed, and then he swallowed.
Violetpaw looked at her from Pinenose’s nest. “She won’t drink.” Worry darkened her gaze.
“It hurts to swallow,” the black she-cat rasped.
“Let m e try.” Twigpaw crossed the den and nudged Violetpaw aside. “Can you fetch water for Kinkfur and the others, please?”
Violetpaw nodded quickly and headed for the entrance, pausing only to snatch the m oss from Oakfur’s nest.
“I know it hurts, but you need to drink.” Twigpaw held the dripping m oss against the queen’s m outh. Pinenose’s eyes flickered open as the m oisture dripped along her jaws. She parted her lips and swallowed, coughing. Then she drew back, her eyes opening fully. She stared at Twigpaw.
“Violetpaw?” she mewed hazily. “Is that y ou?”
“I’m her sister,” Twigpaw told her gently.
“You’re Lionpaw? My kit?” Pinenose looked confused. Her gaze darted anxiously around the clearing. “Where are Puddleshine and Birchpaw? I want you all near m e.”