Night Whispers

Chapter 24

Flametail folded the catmint in an ivy leaf and pushed it into his store among the brambles. He began to lay the tansy stems side by side, ready to bundle. They blurred in front of his eyes. A yawn overtook him.

“Flametail.”

Far away someone was calling his name.

“Flametail!” Kinkfur nudged him with her nose. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Sorry.” Flametail turned, blinking. “Did you want something?” Inwardly he sighed. He didn’t know if he had energy left to help any more cats.

“Please, come and check on Mistkit. She’s lost her voice.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Flametail promised. “I have to put these away first.”

As the queen ducked out of the medicine den, Littlecloud’s nest rustled. The tabby’s brown nose appeared over the edge. “You should get some rest,” he advised. His voice was still thick, but there was more life in it than before. “Did you sleep last night?”

Flametail padded heavily over to his mentor’s nest. “A bit.”

Littlecloud’s eyes were brighter, and though his pelt was still clumped, it was freshly groomed. “I thought so.” Slowly he sat up. “You were tossing and turning.”

“Bad dream,” Flametail admitted.

“The same one?” Littlecloud prompted.

“Yes.” For the last quarter moon Flametail hadn’t had a moment’s sleep undisturbed by the same vision of falling far, far down into endless darkness while around him cats shrieked and yowled in terror.

“But no details?”

Flametail turned back to the tansy. “StarClan just sends the darkness,” he murmured. “They don’t send any clues. I don’t know who’ll strike first or how we should prepare.”

Littlecloud leaned forward. “Our warrior ancestors are with us,” he soothed. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be warning you. Perhaps they don’t know either. They’ll share it with you when they do.”

“Or with you,” Flametail countered.

A purr caught in Littlecloud’s throat. The first in a while. “Don’t worry,” he rasped. “I don’t plan to be joining our ancestors for a long time.” A cough shook him.

Flametail tensed. “Do you want more catmint?”

Littlecloud shook his head. “I’m getting better,” he assured Flametail.

“I want to be sure of that.” Flametail began to reach into his store.

“My fever has gone, and my chest is loosening. Save the catmint. Leaf-bare always drags on longer than you think.”

Flametail turned his gaze toward his denmate. “I’m glad we didn’t lose you.”

“You and me both.” Littlecloud’s eyes glowed. “Now go check on Mistkit.”

Flametail gathered the tansy stems together, putting one aside, and pushed them into the store with the catmint.

“Check Cedarheart, too,” Littlecloud went on. “I heard coughing from the elders’ den last night.”

“Okay.” Flametail picked up the tansy stem and headed for the entrance.

Kinkfur was pacing outside her den. She hurried to greet Flametail. “Mistkit was chattering like a starling this morning, but when she woke after her nap, she couldn’t speak.”

“Don’t worry.” Flametail hopped through the den entrance. “Even if she’s sick, we have herbs now.”

It was warm and dark inside the nursery. Sparrowkit was charging across the sandy floor, a moss ball only whiskers from his grasp. He batted it upward, and Dewkit jumped, snatching the ball in her paws. Sparrowkit lunged, knocking Dewkit into Flametail. Flametail dodged out of the way.

“Careful,” Kinkfur warned, pushing into the den.

Mistkit peeked out from a nest woven from hazel stems.

Sparrowkit untangled himself from Dewkit. “Mistkit’s really sick!’

“We’ll have her better in no time.” Flametail dropped the stem beside the nest. He sniffed at the kit. She was warm, but there was no sourness on her. If anything, it was whitecough. He nipped off one end of the tansy and laid it carefully at Kinkfur’s paws.

“Chew it up and give her the pulp to swallow after her next feed,” Flametail instructed.

Kinkfur nodded and pawed the stem out of the way as Sparrowkit and Dewkit bounced over to investigate.

“Blargh!” Dewkit shuddered.

Sparrowkit made a face. “Does she have to eat herbs?”

Flametail leaned down till his nose was level with theirs. “Don’t go too near her, or you’ll have to eat herbs, too.” He left Sparrowkit squeaking with disgust and nosed his way out of the den.

Cedarheart was lying outside the elders’ den, his flanks shuddering as he swallowed back a cough.

“Here.” Flametail dropped the rest of the tansy stem in front of the old tom’s muzzle. “Chew this,” he advised. “Make sure you swallow it all.”

Cedarheart pushed it away. “Save it for the young ’uns,” he croaked. “I’ve survived this long. A cough won’t harm me.”

“Probably not,” Flametail agreed. “But swallow it anyway. It’ll make my life easier.”

“In that case…” Cedarheart scooped up the tansy with his tongue, chewed it, grimacing, then swallowed. “I’ll be more glad to see this newleaf than I’ve ever been,” he grunted.

Flametail yawned. “I think I’d better stretch my legs,” he meowed. “Or I’ll be asleep before the dusk patrol leaves.”

He headed for the camp entrance. Outside, the air was already brittle with frost.

Shrieks sounded from the lake. Flametail pricked his ears. Was a cat in trouble? Then he recognized the voices of Redwillow and Pinepaw. They didn’t sound in fear for their lives. In fact, they sounded happy.

Paws pounded over the frozen snow toward him. A tortoiseshell pelt flashed, and Olivenose skidded to a halt beside him. She was out of breath. “We’re playing on the lake! It’s completely frozen,” she panted. “You could walk right over to RiverClan territory if you wanted.”

Dawnpelt caught up to her. “I’m going to fetch Scorchfur and Owlclaw!” She trotted past, heading for camp. “Go and play, Flametail,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ve been looking much too worried lately. Go and have some fun.” She disappeared into the brambles.

Flametail’s paws pricked. It had been a long time since he’d felt carefree. He’d been turning into an elder, obsessed with aches and pains and worrying about every cough and sneeze.

Olivenose bounded away. “Come on!”

Flametail raced after her, weaving between the bushes down to the shore. The Twoleg halfbridge jutted out into whiteness, clamped by ice. Olivenose trotted along the wooden boards and beckoned from the end with her tail. Flametail caught up to her and stood at the edge of the bridge.

The lake was completely frozen, a broad sheet of ice glowing pink under the sinking sun. Redwillow, several fox-lengths from the shore, raced over the gleaming whiteness, then flung himself down and skidded, spinning, on his belly. Yowls of amusement followed him from where Crowfrost and Ratscar stood watching. Even the senior warriors were enjoying themselves.

Olivenose jumped down from the halfbridge and landed on the ice. “Come on; it’s safe,” she called.

Nervously, Flametail hopped down, relieved to find the ice firm beneath his paws. He tentatively padded away from the halfbridge, heading for where Starlingpaw and Pinepaw were sliding stones to each other.

“What are you playing?” Flametail called.

Pinepaw jumped up. “Well done, Olivenose!” she meowed. “Now we’ve got enough players.”

Starlingpaw trotted up to Flametail. “We want to play prey-stone. It’s this game we just made up.” He called to Pinepaw. “Slide the stone over here!” He stopped the smooth fat stone with an expert paw as Pinepaw slid it fast over the ice.

“This is the prey,” he explained, pushing the stone toward Flametail. “Over there is the prey-hole.” He flicked his tail and Flametail peered across the ice.

“It’s not a real hole, but all the ice between that tree and that holly bush”—Starlingpaw flicked his tail toward the shore—“is where the stone’s safe. If you get in there, you win. If me and Pinepaw stop you, we win, and we have to swap places.”

Flametail narrowed his eyes. “Got it.” He put his paw on the stone.

Olivenose padded past him. “I’m on your team,” she told him. “Slide the stone to me if they block your path.”

Starlingpaw and Pinepaw were already taking up position guarding the “prey-hole.”

Flametail quickly realized it would be impossible just to slide the stone past them. Instead he turned and began batting it away from them. “Keep up with me!” he called to Olivenose. She scampered a few tail-lengths away from him and stayed level as he pushed the stone farther out across the lake. The ice was freezing under his paws, lightly dusted with snow, but wonderfully slippery.

Out of the corner of his eye, Flametail spotted a group of ThunderClan cats stepping gingerly onto the ice near their territory. He didn’t care. There were no boundaries on the lake. Anyway, he was a medicine cat. He could go wherever he chose. As he picked up speed, he stopped lifting his paws and let them skate over the surface instead. The wind rippled his fur, and he felt as if he were flying. He let himself glide, then shoved the stone toward Olivenose.

She stopped it with a paw and spun around. “Let’s attack!” she yowled.

Flametail turned and, matching Olivenose’s speed, headed back toward Pinepaw and Starlingpaw. They were crouched on the ice, eyes narrowed and fixed on the stone, ready to lunge and stop it whisking past them.

“Here!” Olivenose sent the stone toward him.

Flametail caught it, not missing a step as he skated forward. He batted it back to Olivenose. She was ready and parried it back toward him. Starlingpaw and Pinepaw looked from side to side, trying to follow the stone as Flametail and Olivenose flicked it between them faster and faster, all the time closing in on the prey-hole.

Flametail fixed his gaze on the gap between the two apprentices and, with an almighty shove, flung the stone across the ice. It whizzed toward the gap, straight as a diving hawk. Flametail slowed to a halt and watched it get closer and closer with excitement rising in his belly.

“I’ve got it!” Pinepaw yelled to her denmate, and flung herself across the ice. She slid on her belly as fast as a snake and stopped the stone dead with an outstretched paw. Yowling in triumph, she hurled it back out across the ice. It hurtled past Flametail, shooting toward the middle of the lake. Flametail turned, paws skidding, and raced after it.

He skated past Ratscar and Crowfrost, chasing the stone as it whirled onward. With a rush of satisfaction he saw it slow and slide to a halt. Dropping onto his belly, he slid after it.

Crack!

The world split beneath him.

Terror gripped Flametail’s chest as he felt the ice heave under his paws and tip him into the water. He slid into the freezing depths with a shriek. The water was instantly black around him. It dragged at his fur, so cold it felt like claws.

Above him, the light faded as the water sucked him down.

This is what I was seeing in my dream!

He began to churn with desperate paws, fighting for the surface.

Why didn’t StarClan tell me?

He blinked, focusing on which way the bubbles around him were drifting, then headed upward with a surge of hope. His paws thudded against a solid wall.

No!

He could see light beyond the whiteness, and scrabbled toward it. This time his claws ripped against the jagged underside of the ice. He saw movement above him, shadows over the ice. He heard yowls and mews calling his name as paws thundered above him.

Then the water began to pull him down. He was too tired to fight it. As the noise and chaos faded, Flametail felt numbness spread through his body. He let his paws grow still, allowed the water to cradle him.

Such quiet.

Such calm.

Suddenly the water started to churn. Flecks of ice and bubbles floated around him. He saw silky gray fur wafting near him.

Jayfeather? Had the ThunderClan medicine cat fallen in, too? It’s quiet here. He wanted to reassure his fellow medicine cat that everything was okay. Don’t fight it.

Suddenly claws tugged Flametail’s fur. Jayfeather had grabbed hold of him. He was trying to pull him up. Where did you learn to swim underwater?

Through the darkening depths, Flametail could see Jayfeather’s eyes; though blind, they seemed to be pleading with him. He stared back. It’s hopeless. The ice has blocked us in.

The current was pulling harder now, drawing them down despite Jayfeather’s flailing and struggling.

Then Flametail saw another pair of eyes. Bulging and white. There was a third cat in the water. A grotesque creature. Hairless and scarred. Flametail stared at it as it seemed to float beside them. A tiny part of his mind wondered if this was a StarClan cat he hadn’t met yet. But did any warriors, past or present, ever look like that?

The ugly cat reached toward Jayfeather.

Let him go!

Flametail heard the voice in his head. It wasn’t speaking to him. It was speaking to Jayfeather.

It is his time to die, not yours. Let him go!

Flametail felt Jayfeather’s claws unhook from his pelt. He began to sink, gazing up at the fading light.

Darkness swept over Flametail and the sunlight vanished forever.