Stonewing. A dark gray warrior with a torn ear was whispering to a lithe white she-cat. Two young toms were crouching beside the fresh-kill pile, a half-eaten thrush ly ing between them.
“Make it quick.” Leafpool’s mew was brisk as she addressed the ShadowClan leader.
Alderpaw’s ears twitched hotly. Were medicine cats allowed to speak to Clan leaders that way?
Rowanstar seem ed unruffled. His solem n gaze rested on Leafpool. “I have som ething im portant to ask you.”
“Then ask,” Leafpool told him. “I need to check on Grassheart.”
Rowanstar exchanged glances with Crowfrost before speaking. “We were hoping you would agree to stay with us for a while.”
“I’ll stay for as long as Littlecloud and Grassheart need m e.”
Rowanstar leaned closer. “We were hoping you’d stay long enough to train our apprentice medicine cat.”
“You have an apprentice?” Leafpool’s ears pricked with surprise. “About tim e! Where is he?
Or have you chosen a she-cat this tim e?” She scanned the camp eagerly.
“Puddlekit’s a tom, and he hasn’t been apprenticed y et,” Crowfrost explained.
“Puddle kit!” Leafpool stared at the deputy in disbelief. “You want to put a kit in charge of your Clan’s medicine den?”
“Puddlekit is six moons and will be m ade an apprentice any day now, along with his littermates,” Rowanstar told her sharply.
“Did Littlecloud choose him?” Leafpool asked.
“No.” Rowanstar shifted his paws.
“Then you’ve had a sign from StarClan?” Leafpool pressed. “Or has Puddlekit had a vision?”
Crowfrost’s fur rippled along his spine. “We don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Leafpool’s eyes widened. “Does this kit have any connection with StarClan at all?”
Rowanstar lifted his chin, his gaze hardening. “ShadowClan must have a medicine cat. We have decided Puddlekit will be the one. I am asking if you would be willing to train him.”
Alderpaw stared at Leafpool. He understood her shock. It seem ed like m adness to choose a random kit to take care of a whole Clan. Would she agree to help?
Leafpool closed her eyes for a m om ent as though gathering her thoughts. “I suppose a starving cat can’t choose its prey,” she growled. “How long would you need m e to stay?”
Crowfrost answered. “We thought a couple of moons would be enough.”
“You think it’s that easy?” Leafpool stared at him. In ThunderClan, medicine cats stay ed apprentices for many more moons than warriors. “I’m not training him to stalk birds. There’s a lot to learn. And even then a medicine cat needs experience—m ore experience than you can get in a couple of moons.”
Rowanstar held her gaze. “As you said, a starving cat can’t choose its prey.”
Leafpool glanced up to the canopy, as though try ing to glim pse Silverpelt sparkling above.
“StarClan help you.” With a sigh, she faced Rowanstar. “Very well. I will stay and help for a couple of moons. But I can’t prom ise it will be enough.”
“It will be plenty,” Rowanstar growled softly. “Puddlekit is a ShadowClan cat. He will learn quickly and perform his duties well.”
Leafpool stared at him. Alderpaw could sense the tension between them and wondered how
Leafpool would react.
“Alderpaw.” Leafpool looked at him. “While I check on Grassheart, find som e m oss and soak it in water. Littlecloud will be thirsty.” She glanced at Rowanstar. “Is there an apprentice who can help?”
Rowanstar turned his head, scanning the shadows beneath the bramble wall. “Needlepaw!”
Alderpaw’s heart quickened. Two bright green eyes flashed beneath the trailing branches.
Slowly a sleek, silver she-cat with white chest fur slid out. Alderpaw straightened, forcing his ruffled fur to sm ooth along his spine.
Needlepaw caught his eye and nodded a curt greeting before padding toward her leader.
“What do you want?”
“Go with this ThunderClan apprentice and gather wet m oss for Littlecloud to drink from,” Rowanstar told her.
Needlepaw glanced toward the medicine den. “Wouldn’t it be easier to carry Littlecloud to a ditch and let him drink there? He weighs hardly more than a m ouse.”
Rowanstar showed his teeth, his eyes flashing with anger. “Do as I tell you.”
Tawny pelt hurried toward them. “Are you being insolent again, Needlepaw?” She glared crossly at her apprentice.
Needlepaw’s eyes rounded innocently. “I was just m aking a suggestion.”
Leafpool shook out her fur and headed across the clearing. “I assum e the nursery is still where it’s always been?”
“Yes.” Tawny pelt followed her. “Grassheart is resting. But she’s eating well and hasn’t complained of any pain.”
“Good.”
As the two she-cats walked away, Alderpaw glanced at Needlepaw. “Where’s the best place to collect m oss?”
“The whole forest is practically one big m oss garden.” Needlepaw sighed and padded toward the camp entrance. “Hi, by the way.”
“H-hi.” Alderpaw followed, his pelt hot. Is she pleased to see me? She was acting so casual it was hard to tell. He searched for som ething interesting to say, but Needlepaw beat him to it.
“Every cat around here is really im pressed with m e,” she told him. Her voice echoed around the trees as they em erged from the bramble tunnel. “I brought back a special kit for the Clan. Now we’re part of the prophecy too.”
Alderpaw ignored her boasting. “How is Violetkit? Is she okay? Has she settled in?”
“How should I know?” Needlepaw mewed. “She’s in the nursery most of the time with Pinenose and her kits.”
Anxiety prickled in Alderpaw’s belly. “But she comes out to play, right?”
“Of course she comes out to play.” Needlepaw stopped at a large pine and began scraping m oss from between the roots. “She’s a kit. What else do kits do?”
“Do you play with her?” Alderpaw thought of the gam es he play ed with Twigkit: m oss-ball, cat and m ouse, hunt the acorn…
“She’s a kit.” Needlepaw pulled off a long strip of m oss and flung it toward Alderpaw. “I don’t play kit gam es.”
“But you helped find her,” Alderpaw rem inded her. “Doesn’t that make her special to you?”
Needlepaw glanced at him. “Do you play with Twigkit?”
“When I’m not busy with m y apprentice duties,” Alderpaw told her.
Needlepaw sat back and looked at the pile of m oss she’d collected. “I’m training to be a warrior, not a medicine cat. It takes up all m y tim e. Are you going to help with the m oss or what?”
“I think you’ve gathered enough,” Alderpaw told her. “We just need to soak it in water now.”
“There’s a pool over there.” Needlepaw nodded past the camp wall. “Follow m e.”
As she m arched away, Alderpaw grabbed the m oss between his jaws and followed.
When they reached a sm all pool filled with rainwater, he dunked the m oss. The cold m ade his nose ache. As he lifted it out, water dripped onto his chest.
Needlepaw stared at him, her bold green eyes sparkling with am usem ent. “You look like an otter.”
Alderpaw’s fur ruffled along his spine. He turned, self-conscious, and headed toward the camp entrance.
As he carried the sodden m oss into the medicine den, Dawnpelt stood to greet him. Her jaws were green with tansy pulp; Alderpaw could sm ell the sharp tang of it even over the musty scent of the dripping m oss. Needlepaw padded in and stopped beside the entrance, looking curiously at the sick medicine cat. “He looks so sm all,” she com m ented.