“Let’s get you back to camp,” he mewed.
“No!” Yellowfang muttered. “Help Amberleaf first. She’s badly scratched.”
She felt Raggedpelt’s nose touch her ear, and his voice was unusually gentle. “Stupid furball, stop worrying about every other cat for once.”
With Raggedpelt on one side and Brackenfoot on the other, Yellowfang managed to stand and stagger back to camp. As she and the other cats emerged into the clearing, their Clanmates rushed out, letting out yowls of shock and distress when they saw how badly the patrol was injured.
Brightflower rushed over to Yellowfang. “What happened?” she asked, her eyes wide with distress. “Oh, Yellowfang… Come straight to Sagewhisker and have those wounds looked at.”
She paced beside Yellowfang as Raggedpelt and Brackenfoot supported her to the medicine cat’s den. Archeye limped off with Wolfstep to report to Cedarstar.
Some cat had warned Sagewhisker, who was already gathering cobwebs to stop the bleeding. She crouched down beside Yellowfang, telling Brightflower to go with Amberleaf to the warriors’ den. “Help Amberleaf clean up those scratches,” she instructed. “I’ll be over to see her as soon as I’ve dealt with Yellowfang.”
The other cats left, and Sagewhisker crouched down beside Yellowfang. “It’s worse this time, isn’t it?” she prompted.
Yellowfang looked up at her and nodded.
Sagewhisker’s eyes narrowed as if she was thinking. “This time you’re not just feeling the pain of other cats,” she mewed as she plastered cobweb over Yellowfang’s wounds. She ran her paw lightly over the scratches on Yellowfang’s shoulder. “You could easily have defended yourself from this kind of injury, but you’ve been badly hurt because you couldn’t bring yourself to fight. You know too much about pain to inflict it on other cats. And that makes it impossible for you to be a warrior.” She paused, and Yellowfang was startled by the sympathy in her eyes.
“It’s time to face your destiny,” Sagewhisker announced. “You have to be a medicine cat.”
Chapter 18
The next half-moon dragged by, slow as a snail. Yellowfang remained in Sagewhisker’s den, gradually recovering from the battle with WindClan. Sometimes she thought her wounds would never heal. She longed to be out in the forest, hunting for her Clan, but she felt shaky every time she rose to her paws. And she couldn’t forget what Sagewhisker had said to her when she came back from the fight.
You have to be a medicine cat…
She was stretching her back one morning, longing for her strength to return, when Sagewhisker slipped into the den with a worried look on her face.
“What’s the matter?” Yellowfang asked.
Sagewhisker twitched her ears. “It’s Nettlespot. Her milk is drying up again. Poolcloud is hunting for her, but there’s so little prey in this weather, and when Poolcloud does catch something, Nettlespot doesn’t seem to want it.”
“That’s not good,” Yellowfang commented. “She’ll get weaker if she won’t eat.”
Sagewhisker nodded. “Find me something to build up her appetite, will you?”
Yellowfang headed for the stores. “Sorrel should be good for that,” she murmured, half to herself, remembering how Sagewhisker had once used it for Lizardfang when the elder refused to eat. She went to uncover the hole where the herb was kept, reached down, and brought up a few shriveled leaves, which she held out to Sagewhisker.
“Thanks,” the medicine cat meowed. Giving Yellowfang’s wounds a sniff, she added, “Those are almost healed. You’ll be well enough to attend Russetpaw’s and Boulder’s warrior ceremony.”
“They’re being made warriors?” Yellowfang exclaimed. “Have they passed their final assessment?”
Sagewhisker nodded. “Yesterday.”
“So much has happened since I’ve been stuck in here!” Yellowfang sighed.
Sagewhisker took the herbs from her and shot her a sharp glance. “It’s only the medicine den, not the far side of the moon,” she pointed out dryly. “There are worse places to be, and often it’s the best place to know what’s happening in every corner of the camp.”
Before Yellowfang could respond, Raggedpelt ducked in between the boulders. Yellowfang let out a pleased purr at the sight of him. He had visited her every day since the battle, always asking Sagewhisker when she could return to warrior duties.
“She can try her legs outside the camp today,” the medicine cat announced, forestalling the inevitable question before leaving the den with the sorrel leaves for Nettlespot.
Raggedpelt’s eyes gleamed. “Great! Yellowfang, why don’t we walk to the big oak tree?”
Cedarstar’s voice outside interrupted them. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Clanrock for a meeting!”
“It must be time for Russetpaw’s and Boulder’s warrior ceremony,” Yellowfang meowed.
Raggedpelt narrowed his eyes, but he said nothing. The rest of the Clan was already gathering in the clearing. Boulder and Russetpaw stood at the front, near the base of the Clanrock. Their heads were raised, although they both looked nervous. Their mentors, Featherstorm and Mousewing, sat side by side close by.
Cedarstar signaled with his tail for silence. “These two cats,” he began, “came to us from the Twolegplace. At first many of us were afraid that they would not fit into Clan life. I’m pleased to say that we were wrong. Featherstorm, has Russetpaw learned the ways of the Clan and proven herself worthy of becoming a warrior?”
Featherstorm dipped her head. “She has.”
“And Mousewing, can you say the same of Boulder?”
“He is a true ShadowClan cat,” Mousewing responded.
Both apprentices seemed to swell with pride. Cedarstar leaped down from the Clanrock to stand in front of them. “I, Cedarstar, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon these apprentices,” the Clan leader began. “They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Russetpaw, Boulder, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your own life?”
“I do,” Boulder meowed; his voice carried strongly to the rest of the Clan.
“I do,” Russetpaw vowed more quietly.
“Then by the powers of StarClan,” Cedarstar continued, “I give you your warrior names. Russetpaw, from this moment you will be known as Russetfur. StarClan honors your loyalty and courage, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan.”
He laid his muzzle on the top of Russetfur’s head, and Russetfur bent to lick his shoulder.
Then Cedarstar turned to Boulder. “I know that you don’t wish to change your name,” he mewed. “StarClan will see you are a warrior by what you do, rather than what you are called. They honor your bravery and determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ShadowClan.”
Loud yowls of congratulation burst from the Clan. The two newcomers, regarded with such suspicion to begin with, had clearly earned their popularity among their Clanmates.
“Russetfur! Boulder! Russetfur! Boulder!”
But Raggedpelt didn’t join in. He stood watching with his jaws firmly closed and a look of grim disapproval in his eyes. Yellowfang tried to yowl twice as loud to make up for his silence, knowing that there was no point in challenging him about it.
“How about that walk?” Raggedpelt meowed when the ceremony was over and the cats split up to go about their duties. “Maybe we can pick up some prey on the way.”
“Fine,” Yellowfang replied, falling into step beside him. “Though I’m not sure I’ll make it as far as the big oak.”