Nightpelt’s eyes narrowed, and Yellowfang realized she might have gone too far. “I’m his mentor, and I’ll decide when he learns to fight!” the warrior retorted. Another coughing fit seized him; when it was over he dipped his head to Yellowfang. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he rasped. “The tour of the territory wore me out. I’m going to rest.”
As he limped off, Yellowfang stared after him with concern. He’s looking old before his time—and if his cough interferes with training, that won’t be fair to Brokenpaw.
Emerging from the tunnel, Yellowfang spotted Cedarstar lying with his back against the warm Clanrock, watching his Clanmates feed. Yellowfang marched over to him. But as she approached, she passed a group of elders, stretched out in a sunny spot as they shared tongues and fresh-kill.
“You don’t get squirrels like you did when I was a warrior,” Deerleap meowed; she had recently moved to the elders’ den with Crowtail and Archeye. “I could climb the highest tree in the forest after a squirrel, no trouble.”
“Ah, but could you climb down again?” Archeye asked with a mrrow of amusement.
“I’m not still up there, am I?” Deerleap snapped, slapping at him with her tail.
Yellowfang noticed that Littlebird was listening with a look of fond indulgence, while Lizardfang shifted restlessly, pushing away his share of the squirrel.
“I’m too old to need feeding,” he sighed. “I’ll be heading for StarClan soon.”
“Nonsense!” Littlebird meowed. “You’ve seasons in you yet, Lizardfang.” She clawed at a piece of squirrel and set it in front of him. “Here, try this. It’s lovely and fresh. Rowanberry caught it just for us.”
Affection for Littlebird surged over Yellowfang, seeing the elder choosing the softest parts of the squirrel for her denmate to eat. She realized that Cedarstar was watching too.
“The Clan is growing older,” the leader commented softly to her. “Myself included. It’s time to prepare new cats to take over the responsibilities of running the Clan.” Looking Yellowfang up and down, he added, “Sagewhisker chose well in you, Yellowfang. I admit that I had some doubts at first…”
Oh, no! Yellowfang thought. Does he know about Raggedpelt?
“But you have more than proven your loyalty and skill,” Cedarstar went on. “Runningpaw is lucky to have you as a mentor.”
“It was mentoring that I wanted to talk to you about,” Yellowfang meowed, taking the chance Cedarstar offered her. “It’s Nightpelt. His cough is still really bad, and I think it will hinder him being a mentor. Brokenpaw is so strong and fit; he needs a mentor who can keep up with him, and I don’t think Nightpelt can do that.”
Cedarstar gazed keenly at Yellowfang from narrowed eyes. “I chose Nightpelt deliberately,” he explained, “because I think Brokenpaw has lessons to learn in patience and selflessness. He is a cat who needs to choose between two paths: one that will serve his Clan loyally and one that… will be less helpful.”
His words chilled Yellowfang. Does he know about Molepelt’s prophecy?
Cedarstar rose to his paws, dipping his head slightly to show that the conversation was at an end. “I will watch all of the apprentices to make sure they are progressing well,” he meowed. There was a hint of warning in his voice as he added, “Brokenpaw is not to be singled out, at any cost.”
Reluctantly, Yellowfang nodded.
“Tell me about the other medicine cats!” Runningpaw begged, bouncing around the medicine cats’ den and getting under Yellowfang’s paws.
“What for? You’ll meet them soon,” Yellowfang responded.
Runningpaw had been her apprentice for a quarter moon, and tonight he would go with her to his first full-moon Gathering.
“But I’m nervous! I won’t know what to say. Please, Yellowfang!”
“Okay, but let me sort these herbs at the same time.” Yellowfang uncovered the first store and plunged her paw into the hole. “Let’s see… Goosefeather is the ThunderClan medicine cat. He’s a bit… strange. If he snaps at you, pay no attention; he doesn’t mean anything. ThunderClan has a second medicine cat, Featherwhisker. He tends to ask too many questions about ShadowClan.” Yellowfang turned to her apprentice and gave him a hard stare. “Whatever you do, don’t tell him anything.”
“I won’t, Yellowfang,” Runningpaw promised, eyes wide.
“Then there’s Hawkheart of WindClan,” Yellowfang went on. “He can sound gruff, but he’s a good cat. And Brambleberry of RiverClan—you’ll like her, she’s so kind and friendly.”
Yellowfang covered up the first hole, took more herbs out of another one, then laid everything out in front of Runningpaw. “These are for Lizardfang,” she announced. “He says he’s always thirsty, and he’s losing a lot of weight. Now, tell me what these herbs are and why I’m giving them to him.”
Runningpaw studied the herbs. “That’s sorrel,” he mewed, pointing with one paw. “That’s to build up Lizardfang’s appetite. That one is burnet, to make him feel generally better and stronger, and the juniper berry… oh, StarClan, I’ve forgotten!” He hesitated a moment, gave a sniff, then added, “Is the juniper to strengthen his stomach?”
“Very good,” Yellowfang purred.
“I’ll take them to Lizardfang, if you like,” Runningpaw offered. “And I’ll make sure he has wet moss.”
“Thanks, Runningpaw,” Yellowfang responded. “Be as quick as you can, and meet me in the clearing. It’s almost time to go.”
Her apprentice tucked the herbs into a neat leaf wrap and hurried off. Yellowfang made sure the den was tidy, then followed him out. The cats who were going to the Gathering had assembled around Cedarstar and Raggedpelt in the middle of the clearing. Darkness had fallen, though the moon still hadn’t risen above the trees. The sky was clear except for a few thin puffs of cloud.
Yellowfang strained to see Brokenpaw. It took her a few moments to spot him; he wasn’t with his mentor, like the other apprentices. She finally saw him standing beside Raggedpelt, who was letting him stay there instead of sending him back to his proper place. Nightpelt just looked resigned. A flash of indignation seared through Yellowfang. Why can’t Nightpelt keep his apprentice under better control?
Cedarstar waved his tail as the signal to move off. Yellowfang looked around for Runningpaw, who dashed to her side as she was waiting to go through the thorn tunnel.
“Lizardfang’s okay,” he panted. “He ate the herbs. Littlebird says she’ll fetch him more water if he needs it.”
“Great.” Yellowfang gave him a nod of approval.
The Clan trekked through the forest and along the tunnel that led to the patch of ShadowClan territory on the far side of the Thunderpath. As they headed toward Fourtrees, Brokenpaw suddenly shot away from the rest of his Clanmates, racing for the ThunderClan border.
Cedarstar halted, his tail lashing, and Raggedpelt yowled, “Brokenpaw! Get back here!”
Brokenpaw paused on the border for a couple of heartbeats before padding back to the group. “I was just making sure that the ThunderClan scent marks were on the right side of the border,” he explained. “This is a vulnerable piece of territory. We can’t neglect it, when getting to Fourtrees is so important.”
Raggedpelt nodded. “True. But next time ask before you go dashing off.”
Yellowfang noticed two or three of the older warriors echoing Raggedpelt’s approval, and her heart swelled with pride.
“Good call,” Blackfoot purred.
“Yes,” Russetfur added. “I can see you’re going to make your Clan strong, Brokenpaw.”