The Fourth Apprentice

Chapter 2

Jayfeather picked through the herbs in the storage cave at the back of his den. The leaves and stems felt dry and crackly, and their scents were musty. I should be stocking up for leaf-fall, he thought. But how can I when there’s no fresh growth?

The pressure of being ThunderClan’s only medicine cat weighed like a stone in his belly. He remembered all the times he had grumbled about Leafpool telling him what to do. Now he wished that she had never resigned as a medicine cat and gone to live in the warriors’ den. What does it matter that she had kits? She still knows all about herbs, and what to do when a cat is injured.

His pelt prickled with the bitter memory of a few days ago, when Briarpaw had pelted into the camp and skidded to a halt in front of his den.

“Jayfeather!” she panted. “Come quick! Firestar’s hurt!”

“What? Where?”

“A fox got him!” The young apprentice’s voice was shaking with fear. “On the ShadowClan border, near the dead tree.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” Inwardly Jayfeather felt just as scared, but he forced himself to sound confident. “Go find Leafpool and tell her.”

Briarpaw let out a startled gasp, but Jayfeather didn’t pause to ask why. Grabbing a few stems of horsetail, he raced out through the thorn tunnel and headed for the ShadowClan border. Only when he was already on his way did he remember that Leafpool wasn’t a medicine cat any longer.

Before he reached the dead tree, the scent of blood led him to his leader. Firestar was lying on his side in a clump of ferns, his breath coming harsh and shallow. Sandstorm and Graystripe were crouched over him while Thornclaw kept watch from the top of a tree stump.

“Thank StarClan!” Sandstorm exclaimed as Jayfeather dashed up. “Firestar, Jayfeather’s here. Just hold on.”

“What happened?” Jayfeather asked, running his paws gently over Firestar’s side. His belly lurched as he discovered a long gash with blood still pulsing out of it.

“We were patrolling, and a fox leaped out at us,” Graystripe replied. “We chased it off, but…” His voice choked.

“Find some cobwebs,” Jayfeather ordered. He began to chew up the horsetail to make a poultice. Where’s Leafpool? he asked himself in agony. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.

He patted the poultice onto the gash in his leader’s side, binding it with the cobwebs that Graystripe thrust into his paws, but before he had finished he heard Firestar’s breathing grow slower and slower, until at last it stopped.

“He’s losing a life,” Sandstorm whispered.

Jayfeather went on numbly fixing the poultice in place, so that when Firestar recovered he wouldn’t lose any more blood. The time seemed to stretch out unnaturally, and Jayfeather’s mind whirled as he tried to count up how many lives his leader had left.

That wasn’t his last life, was it? It couldn’t be!

He had almost given up hope, when Firestar gave a cough, his breathing started up again, and he raised his head. “Thanks, Jayfeather,” he mewed weakly. “Don’t look so worried. I’ll be fine in a few heartbeats.”

But as Firestar set off back to camp, leaning on Graystripe’s shoulder, with Sandstorm padding along anxiously on his other side and Thornclaw bringing up the rear, Jayfeather hadn’t been able to forgive himself. I needed Leafpool, and she wasn’t here. His former mentor hadn’t appeared until they were within sight of the stone hollow. She had been hunting on the WindClan border, and it had taken Briarpaw all that time to find her.

“You did your best,” she reassured Jayfeather when he told her what had happened. “Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

But Jayfeather wasn’t convinced; he knew that Leafpool would have saved Firestar if she had been there.

My Clan leader lost a life because of me, he told himself bitterly. What sort of medicine cat does that make me?

Now he finished sorting through the herbs, picked up a mouthful of ragwort, and set off for the elders’ den. When he ducked under the outer boughs of the hazel bush, he found Mousefur curled up near the trunk, snoring gently, while Longtail and the old loner, Purdy, sat side by side in the shade of the rock wall.

“So this badger, see, was out lookin’ for trouble, an’ I tracked it—” Purdy broke off as Jayfeather entered the den. “Hello, young ’un! What can we do for you?”

“Eat these herbs.” Jayfeather dropped the stems and divided them carefully into three. “It’s ragwort; it’ll keep your strength up.”

He heard Purdy’s wheezing breath as the old loner padded up and prodded the herbs with one paw. “That stuff? Looks funny to me.”

“Never mind what it looks like,” Jayfeather hissed through gritted teeth. “Just eat it. You too, Longtail.”

“Okay.” The blind elder padded across and licked up the herbs. “Come on, Purdy,” he mewed through the mouthful. “You know they’ll do you good.” His voice was hoarse, and his paw steps were unsteady. Every hair on Jayfeather’s pelt prickled with anxiety. The whole Clan was hungry and thirsty, but Longtail seemed to be suffering particularly badly. Jayfeather suspected he was giving his share of water and food to Mousefur.

If I can get Purdy on his own, I’ll ask him.

Purdy grunted disbelievingly, but Jayfeather heard him chewing up the ragwort. “Tastes foul,” the old loner complained.

Jayfeather picked up the remaining herbs and padded across to Mousefur. The elder was already waking up, roused by the sound of voices. “What do you want?” she demanded. “Can’t a cat get any sleep around here?”

She sounded as cranky as ever, which reassured Jayfeather that at least she was managing to cope with the heat. When Mousefur sounds nice and sweet, I’ll really start worrying!

“Ragwort,” he meowed. “You need to eat it.”

Mousefur let out a sigh. “I suppose you’ll nag me until I do. Well, while I’m eating it, you can tell me what went on at the Gathering last night.”

Jayfeather waited until he heard the old cat beginning to nibble on the herbs, then launched into an account of the previous night’s Gathering.

“What?” Mousefur choked on a ragwort leaf when Jayfeather came to the point where Leopardstar had laid claim to the lake and all the fish. “She can’t do that!”

Jayfeather shrugged. “She’s done it. She said that RiverClan deserves to have all the fish because they can’t eat any other sort of prey.”

“And StarClan let her get away with it?” Mousefur hissed. “There were no clouds covering the moon?”

“If there had been, the Gathering would have broken up.”

“What are our warrior ancestors thinking?” Mousefur snarled. “How could they stand by and let that mange-ridden she-cat decide that no other Clans can use the lake?”

Jayfeather couldn’t answer her. He hadn’t received any signs from StarClan recently, not since the beginning of the hot weather. Leafpool would have heard from StarClan by now, he thought. They would have told her what to do to help the Clan.

Leaving Mousefur muttering darkly over the last of the ragwort, Jayfeather pushed his way out of the elders’ den and headed into the clearing. Passing the apprentices’ den, he picked up a couple of unexpected scents. “Now what’s going on?” he meowed irritably.

He padded across to the den and stuck his head through the bracken that covered the entrance. He could hear muffled whispering and rustling among the moss and bracken of the apprentices’ nests.

“Dovekit! Ivykit!” he growled. “Come out of there. You’re not apprentices yet.”

The two kits scampered out of the den, stifling mrrows of laughter as they halted beside Jayfeather and shook scraps of moss from their fur.

“We were only looking!” Dovekit protested. “We’ll be apprentices any day now, so we wanted to choose good places for our new nests.”

“Side by side,” Ivykit added. “We’re going to do all our training together.”

“That’s right,” Dovekit mewed. “And we’re never going on patrol with any other cats.”

Jayfeather let out a snort, not knowing whether he felt amused or frustrated. “In your dreams, kits. The other apprentices will tell you where you’re going to sleep. And your mentors will tell you when to patrol, and who to go with.”

The two kits were silent for a couple of heartbeats. Then Dovekit burst out, “We don’t care! Come on, Ivykit, let’s tell Whitewing that we looked in the den!”

Jayfeather stayed where he was for a moment as the two kits bundled off toward the nursery. There was an ache in his chest as he remembered when he had been a kit and believed he had a mother to boast to. Now he only had Leafpool.

As though the thought had called her up, his real mother’s scent drifted toward him as she emerged from the thorn tunnel with the rest of a hunting patrol. Tasting the air, Jayfeather could tell that Dustpelt, Brackenfur, and even the apprentice Bumblepaw were carrying fresh-kill, but Leafpool had nothing.

Jayfeather’s lip curled into a sneer. All she’s caught is fleas! She’s a medicine cat, not a warrior. She should be helping me, not trying to pretend that her entire history vanished on the day the truth came out.

He heard Leafpool’s paw steps padding toward him, but he didn’t want to talk to her. He turned his head away, and felt her sadness as she passed him. She didn’t try to speak, but he could pick up her loneliness and sense of defeat as sharply as if they were his own. It’s as if she’s given up every scrap of fight she ever had!

Jayfeather could sense the awkwardness of the rest of the patrol, too, as if they didn’t know how to treat Leafpool anymore. She had been their trusted medicine cat for so long that they didn’t want to punish her for loving a WindClan cat once, but it seemed as if they no longer knew how to treat her as a much-loved and loyal Clanmate.

The hunting patrol started to put their prey on the fresh-kill pile. Brightheart followed them in through the thorn tunnel; Jayfeather caught the tang of the yarrow she was carrying.

“That’s great, Brightheart,” he called. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to find any, and we’re totally out.”

“There’re a few plants near the old Twoleg nest,” Brightheart mumbled around her mouthful of stems as she headed for the medicine cat’s den.

Many seasons ago, a former medicine cat, Cinderpelt, had taught Brightheart the basic uses of herbs and how to treat minor wounds and illnesses. Ever since Jayfeather had become the only ThunderClan medicine cat, Brightheart had been helping him by gathering herbs and dealing with straightforward injuries. He knew she could never be his real apprentice—she was older than him, and committed to being a warrior—but he was grateful for her support.

Besides, I don’t need to choose an apprentice yet. That was for older medicine cats; he felt countless moons stretching out ahead of him, thrumming beneath his paws like the ancient footprints he walked in by the Moonpool. And of course there was still the Prophecy to fulfill before it was his turn to join StarClan. There will be three…who hold the power of the stars in their paws.

The sun was well above the trees by now, beating down so that Jayfeather’s fur felt as if it were on fire. I can almost smell the smoke!

Then his nose twitched. The acrid scent tickling his nostrils really was smoke. His pelt prickling with fear, he tasted the air for a couple of heartbeats, just to be certain, and located the smell at the edge of the hollow, close to the elders’ den.

“Fire!” he yowled, launching himself toward the smell of burning.

Almost in the same heartbeat, he stumbled as Dovekit hurtled past him, her pelt brushing his as she raced out into the center of the clearing.

“Fire!” she screeched. “The Clan is on fire!”

Jayfeather was impressed that she had smelled the smoke so quickly. I thought my nose was the best in the Clan! But there was no time to think about that now. He had to find the fire and put it out before it spread to the rest of the camp.

More caterwauling broke out behind Jayfeather as he ran toward the hazel bush. He scented Brackenfur racing beside him and snapped, “Get the elders out of their den!”

The ginger warrior veered away to the entrance; Jayfeather raced on past the den, guided by the scent of smoke. As he drew closer to the rock wall he could hear the crackle of flames. A wave of heat rolled out to meet him and he halted. Frustration at his blindness swept over him, fierce as the fire. I don’t know where to attack it!

Then another cat shouldered him out of the way; Jayfeather picked up Graystripe’s scent, with Firestar and Squirrelflight just behind him.

“We need water,” the Clan leader mewed crisply. “Jayfeather, find some cats to go down to the lake.”

“That’ll take too long,” Graystripe yelped. “Kick dust on the fire, quick!”

Jayfeather heard the sound of vigorous scraping, but the smoke and flames didn’t die down. He turned away, about to obey Firestar’s order, when he heard the sound of several cats racing over toward the fire.

“Cloudtail! Lionblaze!” Firestar exclaimed. “Thank StarClan!”

Jayfeather picked up the scent of wet moss as his brother and several other cats brushed past him. There was a loud hissing sound, and the acrid smell of smoke suddenly became much stronger. It caught in his throat and he retreated, coughing.

Moments later, Lionblaze joined him. “That was close!” he panted. “If we hadn’t come just then, the whole camp could have caught fire.”

“You’re sure the fire’s out?” Jayfeather asked, blinking eyes that stung from the smoke.

“Firestar is checking.” Lionblaze let out a long sigh. “And now I suppose we’ll have to go get more water. I just hope the RiverClan cats have gone.”

“RiverClan?” Jayfeather felt his neck fur begin to bristle.

“There was a patrol out there when we arrived,” Lionblaze explained. “We nearly had to fight for a few mouthfuls of water. If the RiverClan cats are still there, they certainly won’t welcome us back.” His voice grew heavy with anger. “They looked as if they were counting every drop!”

Jayfeather’s tail drooped as he stood beside his brother among the sooty remnants of the fire. Around him, cats were beginning to carry the burnt debris out of the camp; the sharp scent made him cough again.

Will the end of the Clans be like this? he wondered. Just like the lake is shrinking? So ordinary, and frustrating, and so bitterly, painfully slow?

Lionblaze touched his nose to Jayfeather’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “Remember, we will be Three again,” he murmured. “Whitewing’s kits are Firestar’s kin, too.”

Jayfeather shrugged. “How can we be sure? Why hasn’t StarClan sent us a sign?”

“We don’t know that the prophecy came from them in the first place,” his brother pointed out.

“But they—”

A loud yowl from across the clearing interrupted what Jayfeather was about to say. “Hey, Jayfeather!”

Jayfeather’s whiskers twitched as he recognized the voice of the most annoying cat in the Clan. “What is it now, Berrynose?” he asked with a sigh, heading in his direction.

Berrynose padded up to meet him; Jayfeather detected the scent of Poppyfrost just behind him.

“Poppyfrost is having kits,” the young warrior announced importantly. “My kits.”

“Congratulations,” Jayfeather murmured.

“I want you to tell her she’s got to rest and take care of herself,” Berrynose went on. “Having kits can be dangerous, right?”

“Well…sometimes,” Jayfeather admitted.

“Yeah, I heard that the kits can come too soon, or they can be weak, or—”

“Berrynose,” Poppyfrost interrupted; Jayfeather could pick up her distress as clearly as if she had caterwauled it to the whole camp. “I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

“Or the kits take too long in coming,” Berrynose finished, as if his mate hadn’t spoken.

“There can be problems, but…” Jayfeather padded forward until he could give Poppyfrost a good sniff. “She’s a healthy she-cat,” he went on. “There’s no reason she can’t carry on with her normal duties for now.”

“What?” Berrynose sounded outraged. “That’s not good enough! Poppyfrost, you go into the nursery right now, and let Ferncloud and Daisy take care of you.”

“Really, there’s no need—” Poppyfrost began, but Berrynose was already nudging her across the clearing toward the entrance to the nursery.

Jayfeather stood still as the sound of their paw steps retreated. Why consult a medicine cat if you’re not going to listen, mouse-brain?

Defeat suddenly flooded over Jayfeather like a huge wave. What was the point of having the power of the stars in his paws if even his own Clanmates didn’t listen to him? “I don’t know if we can do this on our own,” he murmured to himself. “Two or three of us…”