Chapter 30
The mellow sunlight of late greenleaf shone over the camp. Sunhigh was just past, and hunting patrols were returning, their jaws laden with prey. Yellowfang and Runningpaw pushed through the brambles after an herb-gathering expedition in the marshes.
“I’ll put these away,” Yellowfang meowed as they dropped the bunches of herbs in their den. “You go check on Littlebird. Take her some wet moss.”
“Sure, Yellowfang.” Runningpaw hurried away.
Yellowfang sighed. Lizardfang joined StarClan two moons ago, and now Littlebird was growing very frail. Yellowfang was worried that soon she would have to say farewell to her old friend.
She had begun to sort the herbs when she heard a paw step outside the den and Tanglepaw hopped in on three legs.
“What happened to you?” Yellowfang asked.
“I got scratched.” Tanglepaw turned to show Yellowfang a nasty claw mark scored across one of her haunches.
“How did you get this?” Yellowfang gasped, wondering if there was a fox in the territory.
“I was practicing a battle move with Brokenpaw,” Tanglepaw explained, not sounding particularly bothered.
Yellowfang gazed at the young she-cat in horror. “You’re supposed to fight with claws sheathed! You know that!”
“Yes, but Brokenpaw said we’d get even better if there was a real threat of getting hurt!” Tanglepaw’s eyes were shining with admiration for her denmate.
“And are you a better fighter?” Yellowfang asked dryly.
“I will be next time!” Tanglepaw promised.
Yellowfang got her to lick the wound clean while she took some marigold out of the store. Rubbing the leaves on her wound, she told Tanglepaw, “Keep it dry and rested for at least one day. And don’t fight with claws out again. I don’t care what Brokenpaw says. I don’t collect herbs just to treat mouse-brained apprentices!”
She could tell her warning had gone straight over Tanglepaw’s head. “I’m going back to the training area,” she announced as she hopped away. “I want to watch Brokenpaw beat Deerpaw!”
When she had finished tidying the herbs, Yellowfang padded into the clearing and spotted Nightpelt by the fresh-kill pile. “Do you know the apprentices were fighting with claws out?” she asked as she joined him.
Nightpelt nodded, looking exhausted as usual.
“You should stop them,” Yellowfang warned. “Tanglepaw will be okay, but one day there could be a real accident.”
“Oh, you should know better than to think that Brokenpaw would listen to me.” Nightpelt’s tone was full of unexpected bitterness. Then he flicked his ears as if he were chasing away a fly. “I’m sorry for being so tired and crabby,” he added, ending with a cough.
“I’ll send Runningpaw out to find more honey for your throat. It must hurt from all the coughing,” Yellowfang mewed sympathetically.
“Only two more moons and I won’t have to worry about being a mentor anymore,” Nightpelt murmured. “I can’t wait.”
“No cat could do his duty better,” Yellowfang assured him, though privately she thought Nightpelt needed to have fewer duties to conserve his strength. And I was right that he’s the wrong mentor for Brokenpaw. If only Cedarstar had listened to me!
A stabbing feeling in her belly woke Yellowfang. Careful not to disturb Runningpaw, asleep in his nest, she stumbled out into the clearing. Drawn-out groans were coming from Cedarstar’s den. Peering underneath the oak roots Yellowfang saw Cedarstar thrashing around in his bedding, his limbs contorted in agony.
“Cedarstar, what’s wrong?” she whispered.
There was no reply, just another groan. Yellowfang could tell that Cedarstar was not fully conscious. She slipped into the den and let herself feel his pain to guide her. She was running her paws over his belly when she became aware of another cat standing in the entrance to the den. She glanced over her shoulder to see Raggedpelt, his eyes gleaming in the starlight.
“What’s going on? I heard groaning.”
“Cedarstar is very sick,” Yellowfang mewed. “I’m not sure I can help him.”
Raggedstar nodded. “I know you’ll do your best,” he told her, for once not sounding hostile.
Cedarstar arched his back in a fresh spasm of agony. His eyes blinked, then focused on Raggedpelt. “My last life!” he gasped. “StarClan is calling me. Raggedpelt, lead my Clan well.” His body contorted again and he struggled for breath.
Yellowfang watched his heaving chest, knowing that there was nothing she or any other medicine cat could do now. Cedarstar fought on for a few heartbeats that felt like many seasons; then he went limp, falling back into the moss. Life faded from his eyes.
Yellowfang crouched beside him, reeling with sadness. She had loved the calm, wise leader, and trusted him to care for her Clan. She’d had no idea he was so close to losing his ninth life; there had been no lingering sickness, no injury that became infected, not even a frailty that she would associate with elders. Whatever had killed him had taken him swiftly, with little suffering. Perhaps that was what they should be most grateful for.
Raggedpelt bent his head to pay homage to his dead leader, then straightened up. “I must summon the Clan,” he told her. “Will we go to the Moonstone tonight so I can claim my nine lives?”
Yellowfang stared at him in surprise. Cedarstar’s body is still warm! “If… if you wish,” she stammered.
“I do wish,” Raggedpelt declared. “But first let me tell the Clan.”
Yellowfang followed him out of the den. Raggedpelt jumped onto the Clanrock and raised his voice in a yowl. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Clanrock for a meeting!”
The ShadowClan cats stumbled sleepily from their dens, gathering around the Clanrock in bewildered silence. Raggedpelt waited until they had all appeared.
“Cedarstar has lost his ninth life,” he announced. “Now he walks in StarClan, a great warrior among the lights of our ancestors.”
There was a stunned pause.
Brokenpaw broke the silence. “Raggedstar! Raggedstar!”
No other cats joined in. Raggedpelt looked very proud for a moment, then lowered his head to gaze at his son. “Don’t call me by that name yet,” he warned. “I cannot claim it until I’ve been to the Moonstone to receive my nine lives from StarClan.” Glancing at Yellowfang, he added, “I’ll go there at once, while the rest of you sit vigil over Cedarstar.”
Deerleap and Crowtail entered the Clan leader’s den and dragged his body into the clearing. Yellowfang watched as the cats lined up to pay their respects.
Russetfur’s gaze was deeply sad as she bent her head over Cedarstar’s body. “Thank you, Cedarstar,” she whispered, “for giving me a chance to become a warrior.”
Boulder padded up beside her and gave her ear a comforting lick. “And me also, Cedarstar,” he added. “Your generosity transformed our lives, and we will never forget you.”
Raggedpelt was already waiting at the entrance to the camp. As soon as Yellowfang joined him, he bounded out, his powerful muscles pumping until he was racing over the ground. Yellowfang struggled to keep up. Her belly was churning with nervousness at being alone with Raggedpelt again after so long. But he said nothing about what had happened in the past.
Instead, as she ran alongside him, he meowed, “I have waited a long time for this. I will make ShadowClan stronger than it has ever been!”
Yellowfang didn’t have enough breath to reply.
They crossed WindClan territory without meeting any WindClan warriors, and reached Highstones as a milky line of dawn appeared on the horizon. There’ll be just enough moonlight left to hit the Moonstone.