Thunder and Shadow

Chapter 19

Pale sunshine streamed through the gaps in the walls as Twigpaw paced the ShadowClan apprentices’ den. The scent of pinesap was m aking her queasy. She missed the musty sm ell of the ThunderClan camp.

Violetpaw watched her, anxiously. “Won’t you come outside?”

“I don’t want to.” Anxiety prickled in Twigpaw’s belly. This wasn’t her Clan. She didn’t know any of the cats. And she felt foolish for having come here and gotten caught. “I just want to stay inside.” She’d spent yesterday hiding in the apprentices’ den while Violetpaw went training with Dawnpelt. She had been relieved when Violetpaw had returned, although the ShadowClan cats had kept her well-fed. Fresh-kill had been left at the entrance of the den, as well as m oss soaked with water to quench her thirst. But Birchpaw and Lionpaw, who shared the den, had only come there to sleep and had hardly acknowledged her presence. She’d been relieved when they’d left their nest this m orning and headed into the clearing.

Violetpaw tipped her head impatiently. “You can’t stay here forever.”

Twigpaw stiffened. “I hope I won’t be here forever!”

Violetpaw ignored her. “Dawnpelt said I was excused from training today so I could spend time with y ou. She’s worried about y ou. She say s young cats need exercise. It’s newleaf, and the forest is filled with prey -scent.”

“All I can sm ell is pinesap,” Twigpaw growled. “Besides, Crowfrost would never let m e roam the forest. I could hear warriors outside the den all last night. He’s keeping m e under guard.”

Violetpaw blinked at her apologetically. “I know it’s not nice for you to be held here. But let’s make the best of it.”

Paw steps pattered outside. “Grassheart say s ThunderClan cats can clim b trees,” Whorlkit mewed.

“She told me that if kits m isbehave, they throw them in the lake.” There was a tremor in Flowerkit’s mew.

Whorlkit snorted. “Don’t be frog-brained! You’re too old to believe nursery tales. We’re going to be apprentices in less than a moon.”

“What if she sm ells funny?” Flowerkit fretted.

“Hold y our breath.” The entrance rustled as Whorlkit barged in. “We’ve come to see y ou.”

He blinked at Twigpaw. “Is that okay?”

“I guess.” Twigpaw stared uncertainly at the gray -and-white tom.

A pair of eyes blinked in the gap behind him. “Is she there?” Flowerkit squeaked.

“Of course she’s here!” Whorlkit rolled his eyes. “Where else would she be?”

A silver she-kit crept in. Her eyes widened as she saw Twigpaw. “You look like a norm al cat today!”

“What did you think I’d look like?” She glared at Flowerkit.

Flowerkit looked thoughtful. “Last night, in the moonlight, you looked like a fox.”

Violetpaw’s whiskers twitched. “Your head is full of fluff!”

“It’s not!” Flowerkit retorted. “Scorchfur and Ratscar say all ThunderClan cats are just foxes in cat pelts.”

Twigpaw flicked her tail irritably. “Scorchfur and Ratscar are a pair of old gossips.”

Flowerkit spluttered with am usem ent. “Can I tell them you said that?”

“No!” Alarm spiked through Twigpaw’s pelt.

Whorlkit was still staring at her. “Is it true that y ou’re special?”

Twigpaw exchanged glances with her sister. She hadn’t thought about being special for ages.

She’d been too busy try ing to be the best Clan cat she could be.

When Twigpaw didn’t answer, Violetpaw answered for her. “Only StarClan knows if we’re special or not, and they’re not telling.” She trotted to the den entrance and peeked out. “What are y ou doing here, any way?”

“We’re bored,” Whorlkit complained.

“Grassheart spends all her time with Snakekit,” Flowerkit mewed sadly.

“She’s sick,” Whorlkit told Twigpaw.

Flowerkit shifted her paws. “I hope she gets better in time for our nam ing cerem ony,” she whim pered.

Twigpaw felt a sudden wave of sy m pathy for the two kits. “Would you like us to play with y ou?” she suggested. “We could teach you som e hunting m oves.”

Whorlkit’s eyes brightened. “That’d be great.”

Twigpaw crouched, starting to show him a stalking position, but Whorlkit blinked at her.

“There’s not enough space here. We’ll have to go outside,” he mewed.

“Outside?” Twigpaw stared at him, her heart lurching.

“Good idea!” Violetpaw nudged her toward the entrance. “Come on, Twigpaw. Let’s go outside.”

Reluctantly, Twigpaw let Violetpaw nose her out of the den. Flowerkit and Whorlkit pushed past them and raced into the clearing.

Twigpaw hesitated at the edge. Early m orning light broke through the thick canopy, splashing puddles of sunshine over the camp.

Tawny pelt stood at the head of the clearing. ShadowClan warriors paced restlessly around her while Tigerheart listened intently a few tail-lengths away. “Snowbird and Pinenose have both come down with the sickness,” Tawny pelt told them. “There’s not enough room in the medicine den, so Crowfrost is helping to m ove them all to the warriors’ den.”

“We’ve noticed,” Stonewing grum bled.

Tawny pelt ignored him. “Until they’re well, you can make y our nests in the elders’ den.”

“Oh, great.” Strikestone rolled his eyes. “We’ll never be able to sleep! Ratscar snores like a badger.”

“You’ll have to try.” Tawny pelt sounded impatient. “You’ll each have to make two hunting trips today. Tigerheart, can you m entor Lionpaw until Snowbird is well again?”

Tigerheart nodded. “I’ll take her hunting with m e.”

“Good.” Tawny pelt turned to Scorchfur. “Can you concentrate y our training on hunting too? I want the fresh-kill pile well-stocked.” She glanced at the shriveled m ouse and lim p thrush left over from yesterday’s hunt, then blinked at Dawnpelt. “Will you take Violetpaw hunting?”

“I prom ised that she could spend the m orning with her sister,” Dawnpelt told her.

Tawny pelt’s gaze flitted toward Twigpaw. She looked relieved. “Our visitor is finally out of her den.” Twigpaw blinked with surprise as Tawny pelt dipped her head in greeting. “Help y ourself to prey if y ou’re hungry,” she called across the clearing.

“Th-thank y ou.” Twigpaw stam m ered.

Violetpaw brushed against her. “I told y ou. ShadowClan isn’t as bad as ThunderClan say s.”

As she spoke, Mistcloud and Rippletail barged past her, knocking the kits out of the way as they swaggered across the clearing.

“Hey!” Whorlkit shouted after them indignantly. “Watch out!”

The warriors ignored him.

“You’re late for the m orning m eeting,” Tawny pelt snapped.

“So?” Rippletail flicked his tail.

“I need every cat out hunting today,” Tawny pelt told him.

Mistcloud puffed out her pelt. “But we spent yesterday hunting. Can’t we patrol borders instead?”

“Borders will have to wait,” Tawny pelt told her. “We have too many sick cats to worry about.”

Rippletail stopped in front of her and rubbed his nose with a paw. “Sick cats don’t eat. Why do we need to catch so much prey?”

Mistcloud mewed in agreem ent. “We only need to catch half as much prey as—”

A y elp cut her short. At the fresh-kill pile, Birchpaw and Lionpaw were tugging the thrush between them, snarling at each other, their jaws tightly clam ped into the bird’s flesh.

Tawny pelt growled at them. “Can’t you just share it?”

Birchpaw threw her a look of disdain and y anked the thrush from his denmate.

Lionpaw glared at him as he carried the bird away.

Twigpaw leaned closer to her sister. “In ThunderClan, apprentices aren’t allowed to eat until they’ve caught prey for their Clan.”

Violetpaw shrugged. “It’s just leftovers from last night.”

Twigpaw’s pelt pricked with surprise. She knew ShadowClan wasn’t ThunderClan, but she’d assum ed they all followed the sam e warrior code.

As Twigpaw wondered how two Clans could be so different, Lionpaw hissed at her brother.

With a growl she raced after him and leaped onto his back. Knocking the thrush from his paws, she began pum m eling him with her hind legs.

“Her claws are unsheathed!” Twigpaw stared in shock as she saw Birchpaw’s fur fly. He struggled to free him self, y owling in pain. Twigpaw turned to the older cats, waiting for one to race across the clearing and separate the fighting cats.

Mistcloud sat down and began washing her belly.

Tawny pelt went on with her orders as though nothing was happening. “Tigerheart.” She nodded to the dark tabby tom. “Hunt around the ditches. There are bound to be m ouse nests around there.”

Twigpaw couldn’t stay quiet. “Aren’t you going to stop them?”

Birchpaw had twisted free and turned on his sister. Slam m ing his paws onto her shoulders, he held her chin to the earth while he raked his claws along her flank. She wailed with pain.

Scorchfur m et Twigpaw’s gaze coolly. “They started it,” he meowed. “Let them finish it.”

“But they might hurt each other!” Twigpaw gasped.

Mistcloud looked up. “If they do, it’s their own fault.”

Twigpaw raced toward the fighting cats. “Stop!” Hooking her claws into Birchpaw’s scruff, she hauled him away from his sister.

His eyes flashed with rage. He swung out at her and raked her m uzzle. Surprised, she staggered, pain scorching through her. Lionpaw j um ped to her paws and swiped at her, hissing.

Alarm spiraled into Twigpaw’s chest as both apprentices turned on her. She batted them away, try ing not to hurt them.

“Stop!” Tawny pelt’s y owl cut across the clearing. The she-cat bounded toward them, barging into the fight and pushing the ShadowClan apprentices away. “Crowfrost prom ised that she wouldn’t be hurt.”

As Twigpaw backed away, Violetpaw rushed to her side. “You should have just let them fight it out.”

Twigpaw stared at her sister, trem bling. “Is this normal?”

Violetpaw m et her gaze, puzzled. “Isn’t ThunderClan like this?”

“No!” Twigpaw could hardly believe her ears. She glanced around the clearing at the unruffled warriors and the scratched and bleeding apprentices. None of them seem ed shocked by what had happened. Whorlkit and Flowerkit were watching, their eyes bright with excitem ent.

“Why did you stop them?” Whorlkit hurried to Twigpaw’s side.

Flowerkit j oined him. “Now we won’t know who would have won.”

Twigpaw felt sick. I want to go home! She suddenly felt a surge of anxiety for Violetpaw. She grew up here. Is she like this too? No wonder she joined the rogues! As her thoughts swirled, the entrance to the warriors’ den trem bled and Puddleshine stum bled out.

The medicine cat’s eyes were clouded with exhaustion.

“How are the sick cats?” Tawny pelt padded toward him.

“I’m doing the best I can,” Puddleshine glanced back at the den. “I need more tansy and borage.”

“Lionpaw and Birchpaw can gather som e for y ou,” Tawny pelt told him.

Lionpaw huffed. “Do we have to? Herb gathering is boring.” She seem ed unruffled by her fight.

“Yes, you do,” Tawny pelt told her sternly. “Dawnpelt can go with you to make sure you don’t get distracted.”

“We’ll go when we’ve finished eating,” Lionpaw told the tortoiseshell. She leaned down and took a bite from the thrush, which was covered in dirt from the fight.

Birchpaw rubbed a streak of blood from his m uzzle and settled beside her to eat.

Twigpaw stared at them. Why had they fought over the thrush if they were going to share it any way? And how could they eat when their sick Clanmates needed herbs? “I can help.” She hurried to Puddleshine’s side. “I used to help Alderpaw. I know what borage and tansy look like. I can gather som e now if you like.”

“No.” Tawny pelt’s gaze flashed toward her. “You’re not to leave camp.”

“Then let m e do som ething else to help.” Twigpaw looked pleadingly at Puddleshine. His fur was dull and his ribs were showing through his pelt. He clearly hadn’t slept or eaten properly in day s. “I’ll fetch you som e food.” Twigpaw hurried to the fresh-kill pile and grabbed the shriveled m ouse. She carried it back to Puddleshine and dropped it at his paws. “Eat this. I’ll check on the sick cats.”

Puddleshine stared at her gratefully. “Oakfur needs water.”

“I can do that,” Twigpaw told him.

“Kinkfur too.” He crouched stiffly and began gnawing at the m ouse. “There’s m oss at the back of the warriors’ den, but it needs soaking.”

Twigpaw beckoned Violetpaw with a j erk of her nose. “Come and help.”

Tawny pelt was staring at her in surprise. “This is very kind of y ou.”

Twigpaw blinked at her. “Since I have to stay here, I might as well be useful.” Flicking her tail, she padded into the warriors’ den.

A sour stench hit her as she padded into the gloom.

Violetpaw followed her in. “Ewww.”

“Ignore the sm ell.” Twigpaw had spent enough time in ThunderClan’s medicine den to recognize the scent of sickness. But she’d never sm elled it this strongly before. She crouched beside the nest closest to the entrance. An old tom lay as lim p as prey, his fur m atted, on the stinking m oss. “Who’s this?” Twigpaw whispered to Violetpaw.

“It’s Oakfur,” Violetpaw told her. “One of our elders.” She m oved on to the next nest. “This is Kinkfur.” A ragged she-cat lolled restlessly in a filthy nest.

A few nests away, a black she-cat lifted her head weakly. “My throat hurts.”

Violetpaw blinked at her. “We’re going to fetch you water, Pinenose. It’ll help.” She padded between other nests, where cats lay m oaning, and stopped beside a sm all nest near the back to the den. A young queen crouched beside it, gazing anxiously at a she-kit squirm ing on the dam p bracken.

“Hi, Grassheart,” Violetpaw mewed softly. “How’s Snakekit?”

Grassheart blinked at her, her eyes glittering. “I’ve never seen her this ill.”

Snakekit m oaned, and Grassheart ran a soothing paw along her flank.

Twigpaw shivered. These cats were really sick! Suddenly she understood the desperation that had driven Crowfrost to keep her here. ShadowClan needed lungwort badly. Anger surged beneath her pelt. If only Onestar could see the suffering he was causing by his stubbornness!

She faced Violetpaw. “Where do you soak m oss?”

“There’s a puddle beside the elders’ den,” Violetpaw told her.

“Good.” Padding to the back of the den, Twigpaw spotted the pile of m oss Puddleshine had m entioned. She grabbed a thick wad between her jaws and headed out of the den.

Violetpaw followed, carry ing more. They passed Birchpaw and Lionpaw as they bounded out of camp behind Scorchfur and Tigerheart. Violetpaw slipped ahead and led Twigpaw to the puddle. The water was clear, pooled in a hollow lined with bracken. Twigpaw dropped her m oss in. “One we’ve m ade sure every cat has water, we can gather fresh bedding.” She glanced around the camp, relieved to see bracken crowding one corner.

Violetpaw blinked at her. “How do you know what to do?” She sounded im pressed.

“I used to hang out in the medicine den,” Twigpaw explained. “I guess I learned a lot.” She leaned down and plucked the dripping m oss from the puddle, then hurried back toward the den.

As Violetpaw carried m oss to Pinenose’s nest, Twigpaw crouched beside Oakfur. The old tom’s eyes were closed. She nosed the wet m oss closer to his cheek. “Can you lap just a little?” she coaxed.

Oakfur grunted, not opening his eyes. Lifting the m oss between her teeth, Twigpaw held it to the tom’s lips, pressing it gently so that water ran into his m outh. Oakfur twitched and coughed, and then he swallowed.

Violetpaw looked at her from Pinenose’s nest. “She won’t drink.” Worry darkened her gaze.

“It hurts to swallow,” the black she-cat rasped.

“Let m e try.” Twigpaw crossed the den and nudged Violetpaw aside. “Can you fetch water for Kinkfur and the others, please?”

Violetpaw nodded quickly and headed for the entrance, pausing only to snatch the m oss from Oakfur’s nest.

“I know it hurts, but you need to drink.” Twigpaw held the dripping m oss against the queen’s m outh. Pinenose’s eyes flickered open as the m oisture dripped along her jaws. She parted her lips and swallowed, coughing. Then she drew back, her eyes opening fully. She stared at Twigpaw.

“Violetpaw?” she mewed hazily. “Is that y ou?”

“I’m her sister,” Twigpaw told her gently.

“You’re Lionpaw? My kit?” Pinenose looked confused. Her gaze darted anxiously around the clearing. “Where are Puddleshine and Birchpaw? I want you all near m e.”

“Puddleshine is eating,” Twigpaw told her gently.

“What about Birchpaw?” Panic flashed in the queen’s glassy gaze.

“Is he y our kit too?”

“Yes.” Pinenose pushed herself weakly to her paws. “Is he okay? He’s not sick, is he?”

“He’s fine,” Twigpaw soothed, easing Pinenose back onto her belly.

“What about y ou, Lionpaw?” Pinenose blinked at her. “Are you sick?”

“No.” Twigpaw wondered whether to tell Pinenose that she wasn’t Lionpaw. But Pinenose was staring at her so desperately that she hesitated. She couldn’t remember any one looking at her like that before.

“I want Birchpaw,” Pinenose rasped. “I want him here. With you and Puddleshine.”

“He’s out training.”

“But I need him.” Desperation filled Pinenose’s eyes.

“I’m here.” Twigpaw’s throat tightened. Did Lionpaw realize how much her mother loved her?

“Pinenose?” Puddleshine padded into the den.

Pinenose’s gaze softened, as though just seeing another of her kits eased her pain.

Twigpaw m oved aside as Pinenose crouched in her place. “We’re giving all the cats water,” she told him. “Then we’ll fetch fresh bracken for their nests.”

Puddleshine blinked at her wearily. “They need more herbs.”

“Have you got any?” Twigpaw scanned the den.

Puddleshine nodded to a pile of shredded leaves. “There’s tansy, coltsfoot, and borage.”

Tiredness slurred his words. “I need to chew it into a pulp so that they can swallow it.”

“I can do that,” Twigpaw told him.

Puddleshine stared at her. “You’re not a medicine cat.”

“I used to help Jayfeather and Alderpaw.” Twigpaw padded to the herbs. “You need to rest.

You’ll be no help to y our Clanmates if you collapse from exhaustion.”

Puddleshine’s tail drooped. “I might close m y eyes for a m om ent.” He rested his chin on his mother’s nest. Pinenose relaxed beside him, her wheezing breath ruffling his fur.

As Puddleshine’s eyes slowly closed and his breath deepened into sleep, Twigpaw crouched over the herb pile. She took a m outhful as she’d seen Alderpaw do and began chewing the leaves to a pulp.

Violetpaw trotted into the den, dripping m oss dangling from her jaws.

Twigpaw nodded toward the sleeping medicine cat, hoping Violetpaw wouldn’t wake him.

Violetpaw blinked at Puddleshine, her gaze softening as she saw him. She placed the wet m oss beside Oakfur and hurried to Twigpaw’s side. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“I’m giving herbs to the sick cats while Puddleshine rests.” Twigpaw padded to Oakfur’s nest and spat pulp onto her paw. As she sm eared it around the sick tom’s lips, she felt his rough tongue graze her pad. He was licking the herbs. “When y ou’ve given the others water, can you gather bracken so that we can make them clean nests?”

“Of course.” Violetpaw headed out of the den.

Twigpaw watched her leave, relief washing her pelt. Violetpaw did want to help her Clanmates. Growing up here hadn’t m ade her like Birchpaw and Lionpaw. In fact, she hardly seem ed like a ShadowClan cat at all.

Stiff with tiredness, Twigpaw curled into the nest beside Violetpaw. Birchpaw and Lionpaw had fallen asleep ages ago, their bellies full of the prey the sick cats couldn’t eat. Her sister sat up, washing.

“I’m too tired to wash,” Twigpaw whispered.

“I want to get the stench of herbs out of m y fur,” Violetpaw answered between licks.

Twigpaw had already cleaned the pulp from her paws, although the taste lingered in her m outh despite the two shrews she’d gulped down at sunset. Worry still worm ed in her belly.

Oakfur was so sick. Snakekit too. And the others were fighting hard against the illness. What if one of them died during the night?

At least Puddleshine was rested now. He’d slept the day away while she and Violetpaw had tended to the sick cats. It was Pinenose who had finally roused him. She’d woken, her eyes a little brighter, and broken into a purr when she’d found him still sleeping beside her nest.

A thorn seem ed to j ab Twigpaw’s heart as she remembered the fondness in the she-cat’s gaze.

“Do you think our mother loved us as much as Pinenose loves Puddleshine, Birchpaw, and Lionpaw?”

Violetpaw stopped washing. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Twigpaw frowned. “Why not?” She wondered why Violetpaw seem ed so detached.

Violetpaw lowered the paw she’d been licking. “I suppose I just assum ed that since she was gone, there was no point thinking about her.”

“But didn’t you miss her?”

“I had Pinenose.”

“But Pinenose didn’t ask for you today,” Twigpaw pointed out softly. “She only asked for her own kits.” She searched Violetpaw’s gaze for a reaction, but Violetpaw seem ed unm oved. Pity swam ped her. When had Violetpaw stopped expecting to be loved?

“I guess I decided that Pinenose was better than nothing,” Violetpaw mewed sim ply.

Twigpaw gazed wistfully into space. She’d had Lily heart, at least. The ThunderClan queen had been fond of her, and kind. But Twigpaw had always been aware that they weren’t real kin. “Just im agine if there was a cat who loved us as much as Pinenose loves her kits.”

“Oh, Twigpaw.” Sy m pathy flooded Violetpaw’s gaze. “You always want to be close to som e cat.”

“Don’t y ou?” Twigpaw frowned, puzzled.

“I guess I just didn’t think it was possible.” She touched her m uzzle to Twigpaw’s cheek. “But I’m glad I’ve got a sister.”

Affection swelled Twigpaw’s heart. “So am I.” She m et Violetpaw’s gaze. “I guess being here has given us a chance to get to know each other again.” She searched Violetpaw’s gaze, hoping that her sister felt the sam e way.

Violetpaw’s eyes clouded. She purred and snuggled down beside Twigpaw. “Let’s never forget we have each other. We’re kin, and that’s stronger than being Clanmates or denmates. We’ll always be close. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Do you prom ise?” Anxiety pricked Twigpaw’s belly.

“I prom ise.”