Dovewing’s Silence

Chapter 9

Dovewing paused to catch her breath before dragging her prey—a female blackbird, her brown feathers stained with blood after a rather messy catch—through the barrier of thorns. A quarter moon had passed since she and Blossomfall searched for catmint, and more cats had fallen ill. Two sunrises ago, Littlecloud had visited the camp to ask if Jayfeather and Leafpool could spare any catmint for sick ShadowClan cats, so it was clear the sickness had spread beyond ThunderClan’s territory. Graystripe appeared behind Dovewing carrying a vole.

“Are you okay, Dovewing?” he asked, laying the vole at his feet.

“Fine,” Dovewing meowed. She picked up the blackbird and started to push through the gap in the thorns. She emerged to see Rosepetal placing her catch, a young rabbit, on the fresh-kill pile. Bramblestar padded over to watch the hunting patrol return.

“Well done,” he purred. “I know it’s hard to keep the fresh-kill pile stocked when there are fewer warriors able to hunt, but we have to do everything we can to feed the Clan. If we’re hungry, we’re more likely to get sick.”

Dovewing looked anxiously at the leader’s bony haunches and the hollows above his eyes. She doubted that Bramblestar was taking his fair share from the pile, letting his Clanmates eat the best of the fresh-kill instead. Brightheart was the last to emerge from the thorns, stumbling over a thrush that hung from her jaws. She had left her kits in Daisy’s care in order to help with hunting patrols, even though she was exhausted and thin from feeding Sorreltail’s kits as well as her own.

She was followed closely by Leafpool, Berrynose, and Poppyfrost, who each carried a bundle of tightly wrapped leaves. Jayfeather came to meet them in the center of the clearing, and Briarlight dragged herself over to help unroll the parcels.

“Did you find any catmint?” Jayfeather asked, his voice taut with worry.

Berrynose shook his head. “We tried all the places you suggested,” he meowed. “There was nothing but dead stalks. Sorry.”

Jayfeather twitched his ears. “It’s not your fault.”

“Leafpool said this might help, though,” mewed Poppyfrost, nudging her bundle toward Jayfeather so he could sniff it.

“It’s fennel,” Leafpool explained. “I know we usually use it to treat vomiting, but I’ve seen it help cats who are having trouble breathing.”

Jayfeather nodded. “Good idea. Hawkweed could be helpful too, though I don’t know if any grows in our territory.”

“I’ll take a look tomorrow,” Leafpool promised. “I can think of one or two places it might be.”

Dovewing felt a rush of pride in her Clan’s medicine cats. Was there any plant whose use they didn’t know? With their skill, surely ThunderClan would win this battle, too?

Suddenly there was a burst of squeaking from outside the nursery. “Help! Help!” piped Amberkit. “The Dark Forest is coming to get me!”

Dovewing spun around, her fur bristling. She relaxed when she saw Molepaw creeping up on the tiny kit, his front paws extended with claws safely sheathed. Dewkit and Snowkit raced up to join their littermate. “Stay back, traitor!” hissed Snowkit, fluffing up his white pelt. “You say you’re a ThunderClan cat now, but we know the truth! You just want to kill us!”

Molepaw arched his back. “Aha! It seems you do not trust me, even though I swore an oath! Well, you’re right! I am your most dangerous enemy!” He pounced toward the kits, his tail lashing.

Dovewing bounded over and stood in front of the brown-and-cream apprentice. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Molepaw blinked up at her. “Playing,” he answered innocently.

Dovewing hissed. “You know full well that this is more than a game. Why are you making these kits frightened of the Dark Forest? That battle has been won.”

The apprentice’s gaze slid sideways to rest on Thornclaw and Birchfall, who were sharing tongues by the tree stump. “Not entirely,” he muttered.

“Hey!” Amberkit wailed. “Why did you stop our game, Dovewing? We were having fun!”

Daisy bustled out of the nursery. “What’s going on? Dovewing, is there a problem? I wanted these kits to stretch their legs and get some fresh air.”

Dovewing flicked the tip of her tail. “I don’t think Molepaw has chosen the best game,” she mewed.

The cream-furred queen narrowed her eyes. “All kits play at fighting,” she mewed. “No one ever gets hurt. Leave them be, Dovewing. I’m sure you have more than enough to do.” She whisked back into the nursery.

Molepaw glared at Dovewing. “You heard her. Stop sticking your muzzle where it’s not wanted.”

“You know what you’re doing, Molepaw,” Dovewing growled. “Perhaps you should think about whether it’s helping the Clan.” She turned away, still bristling. Behind her, she heard the kits leaping on Molepaw, squealing in triumph.

“We killed the traitor!” Dewkit declared. “ThunderClan is safe!”

Dovewing felt her heart sink. ThunderClan will never be safe if we are divided inside the walls of our own camp.

The following dawn, Squirrelflight told the cats to organize themselves into hunting patrols while she led a border check. Her voice was quiet and husky, and Dovewing hoped she wasn’t getting sick as well. When the deputy and her patrol, which included Bramblestar, had vanished into the thorns, the remaining warriors looked at each other.

“I’ll lead one patrol,” Poppyfrost offered.

Lionblaze and Cinderheart padded across the clearing to join her.

“I’ll come too,” mewed Birchfall.

“Actually, I was going to ask Millie,” Poppyfrost meowed. “Thanks anyway. Millie, will you join us?”

Looking faintly surprised, the gray tabby she-cat walked over to the group. Dovewing tensed when she saw the hurt in her father’s eyes. How obvious could Poppyfrost be? “I’d like to hunt with you, Birchfall,” she called. “Thornclaw, Ivypool, Mousewhisker, Blossomfall, will you come with us?” I will not let my Clanmates shun these cats for the mistake they made!

The four cats joined her, and Dovewing winced at the gratitude in their eyes. Cherrypaw, Molepaw, and Rosepetal formed another patrol, and the three groups of cats filed out through the thorns. Poppyfrost took her cats toward the old thunderpath, and Rosepetal’s patrol headed up the side of the hollow, so Dovewing led her warriors toward the border with WindClan, climbing up the hill to where the trees thinned out and it was easier to spot birds pecking on the ground.

Ivypool caught a thrush almost at once and covered it with leaf mulch at the foot of a holly bush. Dovewing picked up the scent of a rabbit that must have strayed from the moor. She followed it toward the stream, but stopped when it looked as if the creature had hopped across the water and returned to WindClan territory. Disappointed, she turned back and joined her father as he circled around a squirrel that was munching an acorn, so absorbed it hadn’t noticed the stalking cats. They drew nearer, placing their paws so lightly they made no sound, and when they were less than a fox-length away, Birchfall pounced. He landed neatly on top of the squirrel, dealt the killing blow, and lifted his head in triumph.

“Nice work!” Dovewing commented. “I’ll take it over to the holly bush.” She picked up the piece of fresh-kill and carried it through the trees to join Ivypool’s catch. She was just sweeping leaves over the fluffy gray body when there was a pounding of paw steps from farther along the ridge. Startled, Dovewing peered up the slope.

Cherrypaw burst out of the undergrowth, her fur standing on end. Molepaw and Rosepetal were close behind, bush-haired and wide-eyed in panic. Dovewing raced to meet them. “What’s happened?” she called.

Cherrypaw slid to a stop, almost losing her paws on the loose mulch. “We… we…” She paused for a moment until her breath steadied. Then she blinked and looked straight at Dovewing. “We found the scent of a fox inside our border. It could be the one that ShadowClan drove out, and it’s looking for more cats.”

The rest of Dovewing’s patrol crowded around.

“That’s not good news,” Thornclaw growled.

“It’s worse than—” Rosepetal began, but Molepaw cut her off.

“We’re going to let Bramblestar know,” he chirped. “He’ll probably want to send a patrol to track it down and chase it out.”

“We could go take a look now,” Birchfall suggested, and Blossomfall nodded.

“There are five of us,” she pointed out. “We should be able to challenge a fox!”

Cherrypaw glanced at her brother with a look that Dovewing couldn’t read. “That’s a good idea,” she mewed. “We’ll go tell Bramblestar and then come find you. Come on.” She flicked her tail at her patrol and bounded downhill. Molepaw followed, then Rosepetal, who glanced back once over her shoulder before vanishing into the bracken.

Something pricked beneath Dovewing’s pelt, as if she should have asked more questions, but Mousewhisker was already running up to the ridge. “Come on!” he yowled. “We can’t let this fox get too far into the territory!”

The rest of the patrol raced after him. Dovewing brought up the rear, still fighting the feeling that something was wrong. Ivypool looked back at her. “Are you okay?” she panted.

Dovewing nodded. “When we get to the top of the ridge, we should stop. I might be able to hear the fox.”

Ivypool slowed down. “Do you think so?”

“I have to try!” Dovewing hissed.

The warriors tore through the trees and scrambled up the last steep incline to the summit of the ridge. “Wait!” Dovewing yowled, and Mousewhisker skidded to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” he called.

“Nothing,” Dovewing puffed. “Let’s just take a moment to listen out for the fox, or pick up a scent trail.” They were close to the border here, and ThunderClan markers hung heavy in the air. Dovewing cast out her senses until her ears hurt. Nothing! Just the panting of the other cats and the rush of wind in the trees. Perhaps the fox is lying still and quiet?

Suddenly there was a terrible shriek. All the cats jumped, their fur bushing up.

“What was that?” gasped Blossomfall.

“It sounded like a fox,” Thornclaw growled. “Let’s go!” He took off down the hill, pushing through bracken that whipped back into Dovewing’s face as she followed him. The horrific screeching continued, echoing around the woods. Whatever that fox was doing, it wasn’t happy.

They burst out into a clear, sandy space on the side of the ridge. At the far side, a she-fox crouched, her lips curled back and her back hunched in pain. Dovewing froze. Had they run straight into an ambush by this dreadful creature?

But the fox didn’t move. It pinned back its ears and snarled at them, but stayed exactly where it was.

“Great StarClan!” Thornclaw breathed in Dovewing’s ear. “It’s caught in a trap!”

Dovewing peered closer. Gleaming silver jaws gripped the fox’s foreleg, so tight that white bone could be seen through the torn flesh. Dovewing gulped. She could only imagine the pain this creature was in. The thought flashed into her mind that it could just as easily have been one of her Clanmates caught like this.

“What are we going to do?” hissed Blossomfall. “It can’t stay here!”

Ivypool was creeping across the clearing. “Come back!” yowled Dovewing, but her sister didn’t stop.

With a howl, the fox exploded to its feet and lunged at Ivypool, dragging the trap attached to its leg. Dovewing leaped at it, claws out, and landed on its neck as the fox’s jaws snapped down toward her sister. Below, Thornclaw and Birchfall launched themselves at the creature’s haunches while Blossomfall and Mousewhisker clawed its ears. The fox fought for its life. Half-crazed with pain, it thrashed and bit and lashed with its legs so that the heavy trap crashed into Thornclaw, knocking him to the ground. Ivypool darted right underneath the fox’s belly, grabbed hold of Thornclaw’s scruff and dragged him clear. Thornclaw shook his head, then leaped side by side with Ivypool at the fox once more, all teeth and claws and yowling.

Dovewing dug into the thick russet fur until she felt skin pop beneath her claw-tips. The fox flicked its head from side to side until Dovewing was dizzy, but she didn’t let go. Dimly, she was aware of movement at the edge of the clearing. She glanced up, and her momentary lapse of concentration loosened her grip. The fox flung her off like a bug and Dovewing flew through the air to land with a thud on the earth. She gasped for breath.

A golden tabby face loomed over her. “Keep still. You’ve been winded.” It was Lionblaze. “Watch her, Cinderheart,” he ordered. Then he vanished, and Dovewing heard a fresh scream from the fox.

Fuzzily, she made out Cinderheart’s features peering down at her. “We heard a commotion and came as fast as we could,” the she-cat explained. She glanced up and winced. “I’ve never seen a fox fight like that before. Oh, Lionblaze, no!”

Dovewing fought to sit up. Cinderheart propped her against her shoulder. Lionblaze was crouched on the fox’s back, sinking his teeth into its neck. Blood poured from a rip in his ear but he didn’t seem to notice the scarlet liquid pooling into his eyes. Below, Thornclaw and Mousewhisker clawed at the fox’s free front leg, while Blossomfall and Ivypool attacked its hindquarters. There was something in the way each pair of warriors moved, matching blow for blow, bite for bite, that reminded Dovewing they had trained together for a long time in skills the ThunderClan cats couldn’t dream of.

The fox twisted its head around to snap at Lionblaze. Cinderheart lunged forward. “He’s going to be killed!” she hissed.

Dovewing struggled to her feet and put out one paw to stop the she-cat. “He’s okay,” she mewed. “Let him fight.”

Cinderheart turned to face her, her blue eyes ringed with white in fear. “But he doesn’t have his powers anymore! He can be hurt now!”

“I know,” Dovewing meowed. “My powers have gone too. But he’s still the best and bravest warrior that ThunderClan has. Don’t take that away from him, Cinderheart.”

The gray she-cat held Dovewing’s gaze, then slowly breathed out. “You’re right,” she whispered.

The fox let out another unearthly screech, which was abruptly cut off. With a hideous gurgle, it spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed onto the ground. Thornclaw and Mousewhisker only just managed to jump clear. Lionblaze leaped down from the fox’s back and stood over it, watching its flank heave one last time.

The bracken rustled and Bramblestar burst into the clearing followed by Squirrelflight, Cherrypaw, and Molepaw. The ThunderClan leader stopped dead when he saw the fox and the battered, bleeding warriors around it. “What in the name of StarClan has happened here?” he growled.

Squirrelflight bounded over to Dovewing. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Dovewing wheezed. She stood up and gingerly tested each paw. Her ribs were bruised on one side from hitting the ground, but there was nothing seriously wrong.

Lionblaze prodded the fox with one paw. Its head lolled away from him and another gush of blood came from its mouth. “She’s dead,” the warrior announced unnecessarily.

Bramblestar walked over and looked down at the silver teeth still clutching the fox’s foreleg. “Cherrypaw and Molepaw said they found traces of a fox inside the border. Did you chase it into the trap?”

Dovewing padded forward. “No,” she mewed. “This fox was already trapped when the first patrol found it.” She stared at the apprentices. “Wasn’t it?”

Cherrypaw nodded miserably.

Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what they told me.”

“Nor us,” Dovewing meowed. “I think they wanted my patrol to find it when it was alive and crazed with pain.”

“Why would they do that?” Squirrelflight asked.

Dovewing let her gaze travel over the shamefaced warriors to rest on her brave patrol. “Because my patrol was made up of cats who once trained with the Dark Forest. Cherrypaw and Molepaw feel no loyalty toward them, and were willing to send them into great danger.”

Bramblestar’s hackles rose. “Is she right?” he demanded.

Molepaw shifted his paws. “We didn’t know they’d attack it!” he whined. “We just wanted to scare them!”

There was a blur of movement, and suddenly Lionblaze was looming over the apprentices. “You nearly killed them!” he hissed.

Cherrypaw shrank to the ground. “We didn’t mean to!” she bleated.

“Stand down, Lionblaze,” Bramblestar ordered. “We’ll return to the hollow. All of you who fought this fox, I want Jayfeather to check you over.” He turned and stalked out of the clearing. The cats trailed after him, silent now from shame or exhaustion after the frenzy of fighting for their lives. Dovewing’s head spun and she leaned gratefully on Cinderheart’s shoulder as they pushed through the ferns and descended the slope to the camp.

Inside, Bramblestar was standing on Highledge. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here for a meeting!” he roared.

There was a ripple of shock as cats emerged from the dens or put down the fresh-kill they’d been eating. Bumblestripe raced over to Dovewing. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”

She breathed in his warm scent and let it comfort her. “I’ll be okay,” she mewed.

Bramblestar barely gave the cats a chance to settle before he began speaking. His words were flung into the hollow like stones into a pool. “There are brave warriors among you today,” he declared. “Cats who risked their lives to protect their Clan, who rushed into a situation without knowing what they faced but didn’t turn back. They fought the most savage of enemies, and won. We are in their debt.”

A murmur passed through the crowd and cats turned to one another in confusion. What had they missed? Had there been an attack from another Clan?

Bramblestar continued: “Ivypool, Blossomfall, Mousewhisker, Thornclaw, and Birchfall, please come to the front.”

The five cats limped to the foot of the cliff. Thornclaw’s lip was torn, and a scab was already forming above Ivypool’s eye. Birchfall and Mousewhisker were missing several clumps of fur.

“Some of you continue to blame these cats for the battle with the Dark Forest,” Bramblestar meowed. “You are wrong. Today, these cats saved our lives. They were tricked—yes, tricked—into taking on a wounded fox. I am pleased to report that the creature was defeated and ThunderClan is safe. If you feel anything toward these warriors, it should be gratitude, respect, and the utmost loyalty. They have proved that they are willing to lay down their lives for you. In future, you will be prepared to do the same.”

Dovewing looked around and saw that several of her Clanmates seemed uncomfortable, flattening their ears and shifting their paws. Berrynose and Poppyfrost were among them.

Bramblestar raked the Clan with his amber gaze. “Know this, warriors. The Dark Forest will win if we do not forgive those cats who were once their allies. Forgiveness is far more powerful than hatred and suspicion. United, we are as strong as we ever were. Divided, we will fall. Remember that the Dark Forest is still out there, ready to prey on our dreams. Hostility and distrust among us will give them more force than they deserve. Do you want that?”

“No!” chorused the cats.

Bramblestar tipped his head to one side. “I don’t hear you!”

“No!” ThunderClan yowled, shivering the leaves on the trees.

Bramblestar lowered his head to pray. “Great StarClan, we thank you for giving courage and strength to these warriors today. May we honor them always.”

His words were echoed by the rest of the cats, quietly like a soft breeze. There was a stir of movement near the front, and Dovewing stood on tiptoe to see Cherrypaw and Molepaw approach the cats at the bottom of the cliff.

“We’re very sorry,” Molepaw mewed. “What we did was wrong, and broke the warrior code.”

“It won’t happen again,” Cherrypaw added.

Birchfall reached out with his tail and stroked the she-cat on her flank. “I believe you,” he meowed. He paused. “Will you patrol with me tomorrow, Cherrypaw?”

She nodded vigorously. “It would be an honor to patrol with any of you.”

Dovewing let out a sigh of relief.

“I still don’t know exactly what’s gone on, but whatever you’ve done, thank you,” Bumblestripe murmured. “This means so much to me.” He gazed warmly at his sister, who was surrounded by warriors asking if she was okay after the fight with the fox.

“I know it does,” Dovewing whispered. She pricked her ears as she spotted Lionblaze padding to his den. “Excuse me,” she mewed to Bumblestripe. She trotted after the golden tabby and stopped him at the entrance to the warriors’ den. “Lionblaze, we need to talk,” she announced. “Now.”

The warrior blinked once, then nodded. “I know. Come on, let’s find Jayfeather.”

The medicine cat was waiting outside the cave. He didn’t give them a chance to speak, instead turning his sightless blue gaze to meet them and saying, “It’s time. Let’s talk outside the camp.”

The three cats padded across the clearing and out through the thorns. Jayfeather led them a little way into the trees and jumped onto a fallen tree.

“Our powers have gone,” he mewed. “I have not been able to visit other cats’ dreams since the Great Battle, nor can I see into their minds when they are awake.”

“I can be injured,” Lionblaze meowed, sounding as confused as if he had only just noticed.

“And I can’t hear or see anything,” Dovewing admitted. She raised her head to look at her Clanmates. “Why has this happened?” she wailed. “Are we being punished because the Clan didn’t unite again after the battle? Or because too many cats died? Are we still the Three described in the prophecy?”

Jayfeather flicked his tail. “I don’t know,” he growled. “But I think there is somewhere we can find an answer. Are you two fit enough for a journey?”

“Of course,” Lionblaze replied, and Dovewing mewed, “I think so.”

Jayfeather jumped down from the tree trunk. “Follow me.”