Skyclan’s Destiny

Chapter 11

“Waspwhisker, lie down here in the sun,” Echosong directed. “You too, Cora. The rest of you, go and wash yourselves in the pool below the Rockpile. Come back here when you’re clean.”

By the time the Clan returned to camp the sun was peering up over the top of the rocks, though patches of deep shade still lay in the bottom of the gorge. Leafstar and Cherrytail had helped Waspwhisker down the trail to the medicine cat’s den; though the warrior kept insisting he was fine, he was exhausted by the time he collapsed in the patch of warmth just outside Echosong’s cave.

Cora sat beside him and started licking his pelt to clear up the blood around the wound.

“Wash ourselves?” Patchfoot echoed disbelievingly as Echosong gave her last order. “In the pool?”

Murmurs of protest came from the cats behind him.

“I don’t like getting into water,” Petalnose complained. “Can’t I just lick myself clean?”

“And it’s dangerous,” Shrewtooth added, casting a nervous glance to where the water surged into the pool from beneath the rocks. “Some cat might drown.”

“I can’t believe you expect us to get wet all over,” Sparrowpelt grumbled.

“But that’s what I said.” Confronted with so many injuries, Echosong was trying to work efficiently, but Leafstar could hear a slight edge to her voice as she faced the protesting warriors. “I can’t treat a wound if I can’t see it, and you need to get rid of the stench of rat.”

Sharpclaw flicked his ears irritably. “Come on. We’d better get on with it.”

He led the way toward the pool and slowly lowered himself into the water, looking as if it felt worse than a rat bite. Reluctantly, the rest of the cats followed him.

Sagepaw limped out of Echosong’s den, halting with a squeak of dismay at the sight of so many injuries. “You’re all hurt!” he mewed, his eyes stretching wide.

“Yes, but you should have seen the rats,” his littermate, Mintpaw, replied with grim satisfaction. “They won’t bother us anymore.”

More agitated squeaking filled the air as Fallowfern’s kits tumbled down the trail, followed by their mother and Clovertail.

“Come back!” Fallowfern called, as the kits pelted toward Waspwhisker. “Don’t get in Echosong’s way.”

The kits ignored her, climbing all over their father, who by now was barely conscious. He gave a grunt of pain, and Cora tried to thrust the kits back with one paw. “Don’t do that,” she told them. “You’re hurting him.”

“But we want to help!” Nettlekit protested.

Leafstar was heading over to intervene, when she spotted Shorty returning from the pool, shaking water from his pelt. He snaked his tail over Waspwhisker’s back and gathered in the four kits. “Come with me, and I’ll tell you all about the battle,” he promised.

Instantly the kits bounced off their father and crowded around him.

“Did you kill lots of rats?”

“Was there lots of blood?”

“Will you show us your battle moves?”

Fallowfern padded up with concern in her blue eyes. “Be careful; you might frighten them,” she murmured to Shorty.

The Twolegplace cat touched her shoulder reassuringly with the tip of his tail. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell them anything too scary.”

Fallowfern gazed after Shorty as he herded the kits toward a flat rock near the water’s edge, then followed Clovertail, who was speaking to Echosong.

“Tell us what we can do to help,” the light brown she-cat meowed.

“Thanks, Clovertail. You could take over from Cora and get Waspwhisker cleaned up. Cora’s wounded, too, and she needs to rest. And it would be a big help if you could fetch them both some water.”

“I’ll do that,” Fallowfern mewed instantly, darting off toward the river.

Leafstar let her gaze travel around the gorge, making sure that all the injured cats were ready to be treated. Tinycloud, who had only a few shallow scratches on one side, was slipping in and out of Echosong’s den, fetching her the herbs she asked for, no longer reluctant to help the medicine cat. Sharpclaw had washed off the blood from his own pelt and was making sure that the rest of the Clan did the same, firmly dunking Shrewtooth in the pool as the black tom shivered on the edge, then hauling him out again.

Reassured that no cat needed her help, Leafstar padded down to the pool and slid into the water. After the first cold shock she enjoyed the lap of the waves against her scratches, and the sight of rat blood streaming away from her fur. Relaxing, she looked up and saw three cats appear at the top of the gorge and begin scrambling down the trail: Billystorm, Ebonyclaw, and Frecklepaw. They picked up the pace when they spotted their injured Clanmates, and skidded to a halt among the cats waiting for Echosong.

“What happened?” Billystorm demanded. “Did you fight the rats?”

Frecklepaw’s eyes stretched wide in horror at the sight of Waspwhisker, now lying on his side with his eyes closed. “Is he dead?” she whispered.

“Yes, we fought the rats,” Patchfoot meowed proudly. “We set off before dawn this morning, and we ripped their pelts off. And no cat is dead. Waspwhisker will be just fine.”

“Why didn’t you let us know when the attack would be?” Ebonyclaw hissed with a lash of her tail. “We could have been useful!”

At the sound of anger in the black she-cat’s voice, Leafstar hauled herself out of the pool and padded over to her. “We didn’t leave you out because we don’t value your help,” she mewed, touching her nose to Ebonyclaw’s ear.

Ebonyclaw twitched away from her. “Then why weren’t we told?”

“We needed to use cats who were ready to leave at any moment,” Sharpclaw put in, thrusting his way through the cats to Leafstar’s side. “Including during the night.”

“We could have been here if we’d been warned.” Billystorm didn’t sound as angry as Ebonyclaw, but he was clearly offended. Turning to Leafstar, he added, “Are you hurt?”

“Er, I’m fine, thanks,” Leafstar replied, startled by the change of focus. “Just a scratch on my shoulder.”

Billystorm leaned closer to give the wound a sniff. “That’s more than ‘a scratch,’” he commented. “You need some herbs. I’ll fetch them for you—what should I look for?”

“Marigold!” Frecklepaw chirped. “I know what it looks like. I’ll get it,” she offered, racing toward the medicine cat’s den. A moment later she returned with a mouthful of leaves, chewed them up carefully, and plastered the pulp onto Leafstar’s injury.

“Echosong said you should make sure to let her have a look at it,” she told Leafstar when she had finished. “Just in case I didn’t do it right.”

“I’m sure you did,” Leafstar responded, flexing her shoulder. “It feels better already.”

Frecklepaw’s eyes sparkled. “I like watching Echosong,” she admitted.

“Then you’d better go and see if you can help her some more,” Leafstar meowed. “With so many warriors to treat, she’ll be glad of an extra pair of paws.”

“Thank you!” Frecklepaw dashed off again with her tail straight up in the air.

Leafstar let out an affectionate purr, then turned back to Ebonyclaw and Billystorm. Both cats were shifting their paws awkwardly, as if they felt out of place among so many battle-scarred warriors.

“I guess we could go on a hunting patrol,” Billystorm suggested, with a glance at the black she-cat. “We need to restock the fresh-kill pile.”

“Thanks, good idea,” Leafstar meowed, though she felt uneasy as she watched them go. Two was a very small number for a patrol. Perhaps the Clan needed Harveymoon and Macgyver more than she had realized; she hoped they wanted to come back when their banishment was over.

The pain of Leafstar’s scratch was ebbing, but she thought she had better let Echosong check it out, and then see if there was anything she could do to help. As she approached the medicine cat, she saw her instructing Frecklepaw, who was pressing a pad of cobweb against Rockshade’s wounded ear.

“That’s right,” Echosong prompted. “Make sure all the edges are sealed. Good. Now you can collect another pawful of cobweb and treat that bite on Cherrytail’s hind leg. Make sure the wound is really clean first.”

“I will, Echosong,” Frecklepaw mewed.

Meanwhile Echosong started patting marigold pulp along Waspwhisker’s scratch. “Tinycloud, fetch Waspwhisker a poppy head,” she directed the white warrior. “Give him three seeds and no more. Now, Bouncefire, let’s have a look at you.”

Leafstar was impressed by the way the young medicine cat could think of three things at once, and treat the wounded warriors without keeping them waiting for long. Before she could find out if Echosong had a task for her, Sharpclaw came limping up; a nasty bite on his leg needed attention but the light of battle still gleamed in his eyes.

“They fought well,” he meowed.

Leafstar wasn’t sure who he meant. “The new warriors? Yes, they—”

“No, the Twolegplace cats,” Sharpclaw interrupted. “We owe our victory to Stick—you know that, don’t you?”

“He helped us a lot,” Leafstar began, “but every cat—”

Sharpclaw interrupted again. “Any Clan would be lucky to have them as warriors.”

Leafstar felt faintly surprised. “You think they should stay? They’ve only been here for a quarter moon,” she pointed out. “And they haven’t said anything about their plans.”

Sharpclaw twitched his ears. “Maybe they’re waiting for an invitation to join us,” he suggested.

“Maybe.” Somehow Leafstar wasn’t so sure.

“We owe you a lot,” Sharpclaw mewed to Coal, who padded up at that moment; Leafstar wondered how much the black tom had heard of their conversation. “Without you and your friends, we never would have defeated the rats.”

Coal shrugged. “It’s the least we could do in return for your shelter.”

Leafstar’s paws tingled with uneasiness. Why are you here? she wondered yet again. What do you want, to make you risk your own pelts in battle, just because we let you stay here in the gorge?