Midnight

Chapter 12

Leafpaw caught a vole on her way back to the camp, and slipped down the ravine with it clamped in her jaws, hoping that any cat who saw her would think that she had been out on an early hunting expedition. Her mind was still whirling with her sister’s departure, and how the prophecies of StarClan seemed to be gathering around Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw like mist clinging to the branches of a gorse bush.

As she emerged into the clearing she heard Mousefur’s voice raised loudly. “That Brambleclaw is a lazy lump! It’s well past sunrise, and he isn’t up yet. I want him for a hunting patrol.”

“I’ll wake him.” Brightheart, who was sitting with Mousefur near the nettle patch, got up and went into the warriors’ den.

Leafpaw felt a cold knot in her belly at the thought of what would happen when the rest of ThunderClan discovered that Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw had vanished. At that moment, Dustpelt appeared from the nursery and padded over to the apprentices’ den, where Whitepaw and Shrewpaw were sunning themselves.

“Hi,” the brown warrior greeted them. “Have you seen Squirrelpaw? She’s not ill, is she? She’s usually raring to go by now—before I’ve even had time for a piece of fresh-kill.”

Whitepaw and Shrewpaw exchanged a glance. “We haven’t seen her,” Whitepaw mewed. “She didn’t sleep in the den last night.”

Leafpaw saw Dustpelt roll his eyes. “What is she up to now?”

Brightheart pushed her way out of the warriors’ den and bounded across to Mousefur. Leafpaw trotted across to the fresh-kill pile with her vole so that she could hear what they were saying.

“Brambleclaw’s not there,” Brightheart reported.

“What?” Mousefur’s tail twitched in surprise. “Where is he, then?”

Brightheart shrugged. “He must have gone hunting on his own. Never mind, Mousefur. Cloudtail and I will come with you.”

“Fine.” Mousefur shrugged, and as soon as Cloudtail emerged from the den, blinking sleep out of his eyes, she roused Spiderpaw and all four cats left the camp.

Meanwhile, Dustpelt was heading for the fresh-kill pile, irritably calling on StarClan to tell him how he was supposed to mentor an apprentice if she was never where she was meant to be.

“If you see your sister,” he growled to Leafpaw, “tell her I’m in the nursery. And she’d better have a good excuse for going off on her own again.” He snatched up a starling and headed back to Ferncloud.

Leafpaw watched him go before heading for the fern tunnel that led to the medicine cat’s den. She was relieved that Dustpelt had not stopped to question her about Squirrelpaw, but she knew that as time went on and the two cats did not return, there would certainly be questions—lots of them.

And she had no idea at all how to answer.

By midday, gossip was beginning to fly around the camp.

On her way through the main clearing to fetch fresh-kill for Cinderpelt, Leafpaw overheard Firestar ordering the patrols to keep an eye open for the two missing cats.

“So Brambleclaw is padding after Squirrelpaw, is he?”

Cloudtail remarked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Well, she’s a very attractive young cat; I’ll say that for her.”

“I can’t think what they’re up to.” Firestar sounded more annoyed than worried. “I’ll have something to say to both of them when they come back.”

Leafpaw crouched down, pretending to be choosing the best piece of prey, while the warriors dispersed, leaving her father and mother alone together.

“You know,” Sandstorm meowed to Firestar, “Graystripe told me what happened last night, when you found them hunting alone. It sounds as if Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw haven’t been back since. From what Graystripe said about the way you spoke to them, I’m not surprised they want to get away for a while.”

“Surely I didn’t upset them that much?” Firestar sounded anxious. “Not enough to leave the camp?”

Sandstorm gave him a direct look from wide green eyes just like Squirrelpaw’s. “I’ve told you over and over again that you don’t get anywhere with Squirrelpaw by criticizing her and ordering her around. She’ll do the opposite just to be difficult.”

“I know.” Firestar let out a heavy sigh. “It’s just this prophecy… fire and tiger together, and trouble for the forest. I thought after we dealt with BloodClan the Clans would be at peace.”

“We’ve had many moons of peace.” Sandstorm padded up to Firestar and pressed her muzzle against his cheek. “All thanks to you. If there is more trouble to come, it’s not your fault. I’ve been thinking about that omen,” she went on, sitting down with a quick glance around to make sure none of the warriors were in earshot.

Leafpaw gave a guilty start, wondering if she should creep out of the shadows on the far side of the pile of fresh-kill, but if her mother knew she was there, she paid no attention to her; after all, Leafpaw already knew about the StarClan message.

“It mentions fire and tiger, and trouble,” Sandstorm continued, “but it doesn’t say that fire and tiger will cause the trouble, does it?”

Leafpaw saw a shiver run right through Firestar’s body, rippling his flame-colored fur.

“You’re right!” he murmured. “The prophecy might mean they’ll save us from the trouble.”

“It might.”

Firestar straightened up, suddenly looking very young.

“Then it’s even more important to get them back!” he burst out. “I’ll lead a patrol myself.”

“I’ll come with you,” mewed Sandstorm. Raising her voice, she added, “Leafpaw, you’ve had time to sniff every piece of fresh-kill on that pile. Cinderpelt will be waiting—and remember that you’ve promised not to say anything to any cat about this message from StarClan.”

“Yes, Sandstorm.” Leafpaw grabbed a vole and headed back to the medicine cat’s den. She wondered if she ought to confess what her sister had told her about the journey—but she had promised Squirrelpaw to keep silent, too. The weight of the two secret prophecies weighed on her fur like raindrops. She did not know how she would manage to keep both her promises, and stay faithful to her vows as a medicine cat to act only for the good of the Clan, all at the same time.

For the rest of that day, Cinderpelt kept Leafpaw busy going over their stocks of herbs, sorting out what needed to be replenished before leaf-fall set in for good. The sun was going down and the air growing cold with the scent of damp leaves when they heard the noise of a cat brushing through the fern tunnel.

“It’s Firestar,” Cinderpelt meowed, glancing out of the mouth of the den. “You carry on with that, and I’ll see what he wants.”

Leafpaw was thankful to stay hidden in the hollow rock and count juniper berries. She caught a glimpse of her father in the clearing outside, the sun turning his pelt to brilliant flame, and shrank farther back so that he would not see her.

“There’s no sign of them anywhere.” Firestar sounded weary.

“I tried to follow their scent, but the rain last night must have washed it away. They could be anywhere. Cinderpelt, what do you think I should do?”

“I don’t see what else you can do, except stop worrying.”

Cinderpelt’s voice was brisk but sympathetic. “I remember a couple of apprentices who were always sneaking off for one reason or another. No harm ever came to them.”

“Me and Graystripe? That was different. Squirrelpaw—”

“Squirrelpaw has a strong young warrior with her.

Brambleclaw will look after her.”

There was a short silence. Leafpaw risked another glance out of the opening in the rock to see her father sitting with his head bowed. He looked utterly defeated, and Leafpaw’s heart twisted in pity. She wanted to go and comfort him, but there was no comfort she could give without breaking her word.

“It’s my fault,” Firestar went on in a low, shaken voice. “I should never have said what I did. If they don’t come back, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Of course they’ll come back. The forest is safe at the moment. Wherever they are, they will be well fed and sheltered.”

“Maybe.” Firestar didn’t sound convinced. Without saying any more, he got up and disappeared into the fern tunnel.

When he had gone, Cinderpelt came back into the cave.

“Leafpaw,” she meowed, “do you know where your sister is now?”

Leafpaw chased with her paw after a juniper berry that had rolled across the floor, not wanting to meet her mentor’s gaze. When she thought about Squirrelpaw, she had a sensation of warmth and safety, and the presence of other cats. She guessed they were at Ravenpaw’s barn, but she couldn’t be sure. She answered truthfully, “No, Cinderpelt, I don’t know where she is.”

“Hmm…” Leafpaw was aware of Cinderpelt’s gaze, and she looked up into her mentor’s blue eyes to see no anger there, only deep pools of wisdom and understanding. “If you did know, you would tell me, wouldn’t you? A medicine cat’s loyalties are not the same as other cats’, but in the end we are all loyal to StarClan and the four Clans in the forest.”

Leafpaw nodded, and to her relief her mentor turned away and started to examine their stocks of marigold leaves.

I didn’t lie to her, Leafpaw told herself miserably. But it didn’t help. StarClan prophecy or not, she knew the warrior code as well as any Clan cat. One of the worst things an apprentice could do was lie to her mentor, and even though the words she had spoken had been the exact truth, Leafpaw felt desperately guilty.

Oh, Squirrelpaw, she protested. Why did you have to go?