“Don’t go!” Yellowfang called.
But Silverflame had vanished, and a heartbeat later Yellowfang opened her eyes to find herself back in the cave of the Moonstone, with the other medicine cats dreaming beside her. She stood up and backed away from the Moonstone, shaking out her fur. She had escaped the terrible dreams of her last visit, but her meeting with Silverflame had been a long way from what she expected. Am I really expected to make my choices alone, without the guidance of StarClan? Yet Silverflame had said she had faith in Yellowfang. If she doubted herself, she would be letting Silverflame down. I will make you proud of me, Yellowfang vowed to her beloved former Clanmate. You’ll see!
Yellowfang teased out a bundle of cobwebs and began hanging them on the thorns to dry. She had been a medicine cat apprentice for five sunrises, and she felt pleased that Sagewhisker had approved her suggestion of what to do with the webs. A sudden pain stabbed into her paw. At first she thought she had picked up one of the thorns from the bush, but when she looked at her pads they were unmarked.
Another cat, then.
Yellowfang turned to see Finchflight limping between the boulders, one forepaw held in the air. She almost called out, You’ve stepped on a thorn, haven’t you? before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to know about wounds until the injured cat told her.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
Finchflight glanced around. “I was looking for Sagewhisker,” he told her, then added doubtfully, “but you’re a medicine cat apprentice now, so I suppose you’ll do.”
Thanks for your confidence, Yellowfang thought.
She winced as Finchflight hobbled forward and held out his paw for her inspection. Then she recalled talking to Sagewhisker about blocking out her feelings, and made herself aware of her own paws. They’re all fine. I have no thorns. I can feel smooth earth underneath my pads, nothing else. The pain from Finchflight faded; Yellowfang was still aware of it, but only as a faint trace in the background of her mind. It worked! Now I can examine Finchflight’s paw without my own pain getting in the way.
As soon as she examined the black-and-white tom’s pad, Yellowfang saw the tip of the thorn just peeking out. “That looks bad,” she mewed. “It must hurt a lot.”
“It’s a nuisance,” Finchflight replied, shrugging. “I was supposed to go out on patrol. Brackenfoot is leading a raid on Carrionplace, to hunt rats.”
Yellowfang shivered, remembering the time that she had taken part in the last rat raid. “It’s too bad you can’t go,” she agreed. “Brackenfoot will need every cat.”
She had seen Sagewhisker removing thorns before, so she knew what to do. She licked Finchflight’s paw thoroughly around the shank of the thorn, then tried to catch it in her teeth. But it was driven in deeply, and Yellowfang accidentally closed her teeth on the soft part of Finchflight’s pad.
Finchflight leaped back with a yowl, and Yellowfang felt his pain flood into her own paw again. “I’m sorry!” she gasped.
To her relief, Sagewhisker appeared in the entrance to the den. “What’s all this?” the medicine cat asked.
Quickly Yellowfang explained.
“I’ll take over now,” Sagewhisker meowed with a nod. “But you did exactly the right thing, Yellowfang.”
“Not when she bit me!” Finchflight growled.
Once Sagewhisker had extracted the thorn and sent Finchflight to catch up with his patrol, she turned to Yellowfang. “The thing is not to rush,” she advised. “Just keep licking. If you press your tongue on the outside of the pad around the thorn, it will often come out a little bit, and then you can grab it more easily.”
“Thanks,” Yellowfang mewed. “I’ll remember that.”
Sagewhisker hesitated, then asked, “How did the pain blocking go?”
“It worked really well,” Yellowfang replied. “I had it under control until I bit Finchflight, and then I couldn’t concentrate on keeping out that pain as well.”
Sagewhisker rested her tail-tip comfortingly on Yellowfang’s shoulder. “It will take time,” she murmured. “Just keep trying.”
The sun was rising above the trees as Yellowfang padded across to the nursery to check on Cloudkit. He was obviously in perfect health, wriggling around in the nursery and jumping on pretend mice. “I’m going to be the best hunter in ShadowClan!” he announced.
“I’m sure you will,” Nettlespot purred, looking down at her kit. “He’s completely better,” she added to Yellowfang, who was aware of the new note of respect in her tone. “That willow cured him, just like you said. And he’s grown so much in this last quarter moon!”
“I’m glad,” Yellowfang began. “He should—”
She broke off at the sound of yowls from the camp entrance. At the same moment a wave of pain flooded over her: sharp stabbing wounds as well as the dull ache of scratches.
“What’s that?” Nettlespot yelped, sitting up in alarm and drawing Cloudkit close to her with her tail.
Within a heartbeat Yellowfang forced herself to concentrate on the lack of injuries to her own body, until the pain eased. I am not hurt. The pain is not mine. Once she had it under control, she hurried out of the nursery. Sagewhisker had just appeared from her own den. Side by side she and Yellowfang bounded across the camp to meet the returning cats. Yellowfang could hear the blood rushing in her ears.
My Clanmates are wounded! But I am their medicine cat: I can help them!
Chapter 20
Brackenfoot and Deerleap hurtled out of the tunnel with Toadskip, Scorchwind, Rowanberry, and Finchflight hard on their paws. Yellowfang could see that all of them bore scratches and bitemarks.
“What happened?” Sagewhisker demanded.
“The rats happened,” Scorchwind growled.
Rowanberry shuddered. “So many rats!”
The rest of the Clan was emerging from their dens, clustering around and asking the same question. Eventually the returning patrol settled down in the middle of the clearing, with their Clanmates crowding around them. Cedarstar came out of his den, followed by Stonetooth, and joined them. Yellowfang found a place to sit next to Rowanberry and pricked her ears to listen.
“No.” Sagewhisker gave her a nudge. “We have to go around and check the injuries at the same time. Assess every cat, then treat the most seriously wounded first. I’ll fetch the herbs we need.”
Feeling embarrassed that she hadn’t realized that, Yellowfang jumped up and followed her mentor.
Meanwhile, Brackenfoot explained what had happened. “As you know, we went to hunt along the edge of Carrionplace. At first everything went well. Rowanberry caught a huge rat.” He gave the young warrior a nod of approval. “But then hordes of rats started pouring out of those stinking heaps and attacked us. You’ve never seen so many rats!”
“But rats are prey!” Newtspeck exclaimed. “Prey doesn’t fight back.”
“These rats do,” Brackenfoot responded. He shook his head; Yellowfang could sense his shame and embarrassment, and saw that the rest of his patrol shared it. “We had to flee,” he added. “There were too many for us to fight.”
“You did the right thing,” Cedarstar meowed, standing up to speak. “What good would it have done your Clan if you had been killed or seriously wounded? The good news is that there are plenty of rats. We just have to work out the best way to overpower them.”
No warrior spoke up, but Yellowfang could see that all the Clan was thinking hard, murmuring to one another as they worked out what they might do.