Leafpool’s Wish

Chapter 7

The sky had lightened as much as it was going to by the time Leafpool and Squirrelflight reached the hollow. Leafpool felt dizzy with fatigue, and had been leaning on her sister’s shoulder for most of the journey. She had to walk into the clearing on her own, though. She couldn’t risk any of her Clanmates seeing how weak and breathless she was. She headed straight for her den, and was relieved to find Whitepaw sleeping peacefully.

Brightheart was sitting beside her daughter, rolling up the newly dried yarrow leaves. “She’s in less pain today,” she commented. She peered at Leafpool. “You look worn out! You needn’t have traveled back overnight. I could have seen to Whitepaw today.”

Leafpool sank down into her nest. “I know, but we didn’t want to sleep on the mountain. Why don’t you go get something to eat now?”

The she-cat glanced at her once more, then padded out of the den. Leafpool stretched out as flat as she could with her belly propped awkwardly beside her. No more journeys to the Moonpool, little ones. StarClan has done as much as it can for us. Perhaps Yellowfang was right, and giving you to Squirrelflight was the only way to keep us here. But if Squirrelflight doesn’t want to, then we will have to find our own path.

She smoothed her paw over the uncomfortable swelling. She knew the kits would come in the next quarter-moon. She would have to leave the camp in time to find a safe place to give birth. After that, she had no idea what would happen. If her Clanmates refused to accept her kits, she would have to give up her place in ThunderClan forever. Other cats had left, so Leafpool knew she could survive. It would be hard to hunt for food while the kits were still nursing, but Leafpool could cope with going hungry for a while. She would eat as much as she could from the fresh-kill pile before she left, and hope that none of her Clanmates were watching too closely.

By the following sunrise, Whitepaw was sitting up in her nest and complaining strongly about not being allowed out of the den. It was the best sign so far of her recovery. Brightheart knew better than to fuss over her daughter, and instead surveyed her from a distance, offering food and soaked moss in between the complaints.

Leafpool beckoned Brightheart farther into the cave with a twitch of her tail. “Would you mind if I left the camp for a while?” she asked.

Brightheart’s single eye stretched wide. “Is something wrong?”

“I… I have to go in search of an herb that doesn’t grow in our territory. StarClan told me to go when I visited the Moonpool.”

“Are we going to be struck by greencough this leaf-bare?” Brightheart mewed worriedly.

Leafpool shook her head. “Not that I have heard. Will you take care of my duties while I’m gone?”

“Of course,” the she-cat mewed. “But don’t stay away too long, Leafpool. We need you here.”

Firestar was less easy to convince. “Is StarClan sure that we need this herb?”

“Completely.” Leafpool felt her pelt crawl. She hated lying to any of her Clanmates but especially her father, who trusted her to interpret the signs from their ancestors. She wondered if StarClan would forgive her for using them falsely.

“Then you’ll have to go, of course,” Firestar meowed. “Did StarClan say how long it might take to find this plant?”

Leafpool swallowed. “I might be away for more than a moon.”

The ginger tom blinked. “A moon? This herb must be very important.”

Sandstorm entered the leader’s den in time to overhear. “Do you have to go, Leafpool? Couldn’t it wait until after leaf-bare?” Her voice was gentle, but the words burned into Leafpool’s fur. Does she know why I have to leave?

“No, it can’t wait,” she insisted. She gazed at her father. “StarClan wouldn’t send me away if there was any danger to my Clanmates. I promise I will come back as soon as I can.”

Firestar twitched his tail. “And you have to go alone, do you?”

Leafpool nodded, but at that moment Squirrelflight burst into the den. “No, she doesn’t! I’m going with her!”

Leafpool stared at her sister. Squirrelflight continued, “Is it true, what Brightheart said? That you’re leaving ThunderClan?”

“Only for a while,” Leafpool whispered.

“Then I’ll come with you,” Squirrelflight meowed.

“I’d be happier if you weren’t alone,” Firestar admitted.

“So would I,” Sandstorm murmured.

“You may go if you take Squirrelflight with you,” Firestar meowed, as if that was his final decision.

Leafpool glanced at her sister, whose jaw jutted in determination, and nodded. “Very well. Thank you, Firestar.”

He rested his muzzle briefly on top of her head, then watched her walk out of the den. At the bottom of the stones, Leafpool turned to Squirrelflight. “You know why I’m going, don’t you?”

Squirrelflight nodded. “Yes, and I am keeping my promise to help you however I can.”

“Have you told Brambleclaw?”

“That I’m going away with you for a while? Yes.” Squirrelflight curled her lip. “He tried to persuade me to stay here and let Thornclaw or Rainwhisker go instead, but I said that you had asked for me.”

Leafpool suddenly felt exhausted by the lies, the half-truths, the weight of the secret that dragged in her belly. “I’m glad you are coming,” she murmured.

Squirrelflight touched Leafpool’s ear with the tip of her tail. “I could never let you go through this alone.”

They left just before sunhigh, not that the sun was visible through the dense yellow clouds that hung above the tops of the trees. Brambleclaw curled his tail with Squirrelflight’s and seemed to be trying to persuade her to change her mind. But Squirrelflight shrugged him off.

“I’m sure you can organize the patrols without me,” she teased. But her voice was high-pitched with tension, and Leafpool knew that her sister was frightened of what lay ahead. There was nothing she could say to reassure Squirrelflight. The future yawned before her like a bottomless chasm. The path ahead of her led straight into the dark.

They headed up to the ridge above the hollow and crossed over the ThunderClan border as soon as they could. Now that they were on their way, Leafpool had a strange urge inside her to get as far from her home as she could, as if the whispers of her Clanmates could still be heard all around her. In spite of her swollen belly, she walked quickly, and Squirrelflight sometimes had to trot to keep up.

“What’s the hurry?” she panted.

Leafpool just looked at her. Squirrelflight ducked her head with embarrassment. “Okay, let’s keep going.”

The dense undergrowth and fresh young trees that Leafpool associated with ThunderClan territory gave way to sparser, older trees, their trunks silvery and scaled with lichen. The bracken thinned out and soft grass lay underpaw. They could have moved faster here, but Leafpool’s paws were starting to ache and instead she slowed down. Squirrelflight said nothing, just matched her pace and stayed close enough to support Leafpool with her shoulder when the medicine cat stumbled.

Peering through the lake toward the trees, Leafpool figured they were almost level with ShadowClan territory by now. She hoped the breeze wouldn’t carry their scent across the border. They were skirting a thicket of elderberry bushes when Squirrelflight let out a soft cry.

“Look! There’s an old Twoleg nest!” She ran forward and slipped inside the tumbledown heap of reddish stones. Leafpool studied it. If Twolegs had ever lived here, it had been a long time ago. There were holes in the roof, and ivy sprouted from the stones as if the den were trying to grow itself a pelt.

Squirrelflight reappeared at the entrance. “We could shelter here for the night,” she mewed. “It’s dry inside, and there’s a good smell of mouse.”

Leafpool padded over and peered into the den. It was filled with shadows but it felt warm without the constant tug of the wind. Squirrelflight trotted past her and started nosing through a pile of old straw. “You know, this would make a great place to have your kits. It’s clean enough and dry, there’s plenty of prey, and we’re not too far from the Clans if anything goes wrong.”

Leafpool cut her off with a hiss. “We cannot ask any Clan cat for help! And this is much too close to the territories; we might be seen or heard. No, we can’t stay here.”

With a sense of panic swelling inside her, and her kits writhing in distress, she ran away from the abandoned den. Squirrelflight followed without trying to argue. Leafpool was grateful for her sister’s silence. She couldn’t explain the strange, fierce feelings that surged inside her the closer it came to her kits arriving. All she knew was that the urge to follow her instincts was too strong to fight.

The trees toward the lake grew thinner and Leafpool glimpsed the stretch of open grass where Twolegs came during greenleaf. The cats reached a narrow, steep-banked stream which bubbled down to the shore. Squirrelflight paused on the bank.

“I guess you don’t feel like jumping across?” she mewed.

Leafpool shook her head, too breathless to speak.

Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes. “You can’t go much further. Come on, we’ll head deeper into the woods and find somewhere to spend the night.” She turned and led the way along the stream. As the trees thickened around them, the sounds of birds and rustling prey died away, and Leafpool felt as if they were the only living creatures in the forest. It started to rain, gently at first but then harder, until the cats were drenched to the skin. Leafpool shivered uncontrollably, and the sound of her chattering teeth competed with the raindrops that spattered around them.

Suddenly Squirrelflight halted and scented the air. “I smell rabbit,” she announced. She veered away from the edge of the stream and plunged into the dripping ferns. “Follow me, Leafpool,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m not leaving you on your own!”

Leafpool was too tired and uncomfortable to argue. She stumbled behind her sister along the faint trail of scent. They emerged from the ferns in a sandy clearing dotted with holes. Rabbit burrows! Leafpool saw Squirrelflight lick her lips in anticipation of the hunt.

But there was another scent here, stronger than rabbit, only half disguised by the rain. Not rabbit but…

“Fox!” gasped Squirrelflight, whirling around. “Quick, let’s get out of here!”

It was too late. In front of them the bracken shook violently and tore apart to reveal—not a fox, but the pointed, striped face of a badger, little eyes gleaming and jaws parted to reveal slavering yellow teeth. It growled when it saw the cats.

Squirrelflight jumped in front of Leafpool. “Wait until it attacks me, then run!” she hissed.

Leafpool crouched down, ready to flee. Her kits squirmed in her stomach as if they could feel her terror. Leafpool felt such a surge of love for her babies that she rocked on her paws. She glared at the badger and felt her lip curl in fury. If she couldn’t get away, then she would stay and fight. Badgers held no fear for her now.

You will not harm my kits!