Twilight

Chapter 6

Leafpool stayed sitting down as her sister and Ashfur headed into the bushes toward the lakeshore. She gazed across the clearing to where she had last seen Crowfeather. She spotted the WindClan cat at once; he was looking straight back at her.

Leafpool glanced around. Other cats moved in the shadows; the brambles behind her rustled as they pushed through them on their way back to the tree bridge. No cat seemed to be paying much attention to her.

She started to circle the clearing, keeping to where the moonlight threw deep shadows.

“Leafpool!”

The young medicine cat froze, feeling her pelt tingle with frustration. She took a deep breath before turning around.

“Yes, Cinderpelt?”

“Come on, you’re being left behind.”

Leafpool narrowed her eyes. Her Clanmates had only just left the clearing. Was Cinderpelt deliberately keeping her away from Crowfeather?

“Okay, Cinderpelt, I’m coming.” Leafpool shot a glance over her shoulder and saw Crowfeather watching her with anguish in his eyes.

Leafpool knew she couldn’t do anything but follow Cinderpelt into the bushes.

I’m a medicine cat, she told herself as she ducked under the prickly branches. I can’t love Crowfeather, and he can’t love me.

She repeated it over and over, all the way back to the ThunderClan camp, but all she could think of was the look in Crowfeather’s eyes.

A sweet scent drifted around Leafpool and a voice murmured her name. At first she thought Spottedleaf was calling to her; the former ThunderClan medicine cat had often come to her in dreams. But when she blinked open her eyes the cat standing in front of her had a silvery-gray pelt, and eyes of clearest blue. Starlight sparkled around her paws and at the ends of her whiskers.

Leafpool stared at her, bewildered. “Feathertail?”

Beyond her nest among the brambles outside Cinderpelt’s den, the hollow was bathed in silvery light. But several days had passed since the Gathering, and the moon was waning.

Leafpool knew she was dreaming.

She stood up. “What is it, Feathertail?”

She guessed Feathertail had come to speak to her about Crowfeather. A pang of guilt shot through her. Feathertail and Crowfeather had loved each other so much, but the beautiful RiverClan cat had given up her life to save the Tribe and her friends from the fierce lion-cat Sharptooth. Was she angry that Crowfeather had fallen in love with another cat?

“I—I’m sorry,” Leafpool stammered.

Feathertail swept her tail across Leafpool’s mouth. “We need to talk, but not here. Follow me.”

She led the way into the clearing. Leafpool tried to walk as lightly as if she were stalking a mouse, then she wondered if the Clan could hear her when this was only a dream.

A bright, unearthly light flooded the hollow. Brightheart and Sootfur, on watch, looked like cats made of stone, their coats the color of moonlight. Neither stirred as Feathertail and Leafpool crept past them and out through the thorn tunnel.

Once they were several fox-lengths away from the camp, Feathertail found a comfortable spot in a clump of long grass and settled down, gesturing with her tail for Leafpool to join her.

“I can guess what you’re thinking,” she meowed. “You think I’m angry about Crowfeather, don’t you?”

Leafpool blinked at her, too ashamed to admit to her suspicion.

“Do you think I wouldn’t want to see him happy?”

Feathertail asked gently. “You make him happy; I can see that.”

“I’m a medicine cat!” Leafpool protested. Her fur tingled with delight that Feathertail wasn’t angry—more than that, she seemed to want Leafpool and Crowfeather to be together—but she knew it was more complicated than that.

“I wish I could make him happy, but I can’t.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Feathertail told her. “There’s something I need you to do.”

Leafpool pricked her ears. “What?”

“It’s Mothwing.” Feathertail’s expression clouded. “I have an important message for her, but I can’t reach her.”

Leafpool felt icy water trickle down her spine, making her fur stand on end. When the Clans first came to the lake, the RiverClan medicine cat had confessed to Leafpool that she didn’t believe in StarClan. At first, Leafpool had been stunned. How could a medicine cat carry out her duties without the guidance of their warrior ancestors? But she agreed to keep her friend’s secret because she knew Mothwing was truly committed to caring for her Clan, and she knew as much about herbs as any of the medicine cats.

But she should have known that StarClan saw into the heart of every cat. There was no hiding the truth from them.

A shiver of alarm swept through Leafpool. Were StarClan angry with Mothwing? Could they stop her being a medicine cat? Would they be angry with Leafpool too, for keeping Mothwing’s secret?

“Mothwing’s really good with healing herbs,” she told Feathertail. “And when she was an apprentice she wanted to believe.”

“I know,” Feathertail meowed. “We hoped that in time she would find faith in us. But she hasn’t, so we can’t speak to her to give her the messages her Clan needs.”

“But—” Leafpool hesitated. This was so hard to ask, but she had to know. “But Mudfur waited for a sign from StarClan before he chose Mothwing to be his apprentice. And one morning he found a moth’s wing outside his den. He took it as a sign that StarClan approved his choice. Was he mis-taken?”

Feathertail bent her head to lick her chest fur. “You can’t expect to understand the signs given to another cat,” she replied when she looked up again. More briskly she added, “Leafpool, I need to tell Mothwing something urgently. I can’t reach her, so will you take a message to her?”

“What would you like me to say?” Leafpool knew she wouldn’t refuse Feathertail’s request. She would do anything to help Mothwing.

“Tell her RiverClan are in serious danger from Twolegs.”

“Twolegs?” Leafpool cocked her head, puzzled. “But we haven’t seen any Twolegs yet. Surely they won’t come until greenleaf?”

“I can’t tell you any more, except that the danger is to RiverClan alone. But it is real, I promise you that. Will you go and warn Mothwing, please?”

“Yes, of course.”

Feathertail gave Leafpool a single lick on the top of her head. Her sweet scent drifted around the younger cat.

“Thank you, Leafpool,” she murmured. “I know that if things had been different, you and I would have been good friends.”

Leafpool wanted to believe it. But they had been in different Clans when Feathertail was alive—and what about Crowfeather? Would they both have wanted him?

The scent faded. When Leafpool looked up the beautiful silver tabby was gone, and she was waking for real in her nest outside Cinderpelt’s den.

Pale dawn light filled the clearing, although the sky was gray with cloud. As Leafpool yawned and stretched, Cinderpelt poked her head out and sniffed the air.

“Rain later,” she commented. “You’d better find Ashfur and check that his neck wound is okay. He’s healing well, but there’s still a risk of infection.”

“Sure, Cinderpelt.”

As Leafpool set off to find the gray tomcat, she wondered how she could get away long enough to visit Mothwing and give her Feathertail’s message. RiverClan’s territory was on the opposite side of the lake, and she didn’t think she could make it there and back before nightfall. Should she tell Cinderpelt about Feathertail’s visit? No, that would mean betraying Mothwing’s secret—that she didn’t believe in StarClan. Mothwing would have to give up being a medicine cat, and Leafpool didn’t want that to happen.

She spotted Ashfur pushing his way through the thorn tunnel with the dawn patrol. “Hi, there,” he meowed. “Are you looking for me?”

“Yes, I’ve come to check your wound.” Leafpool parted Ashfur’s fur with one paw; the deep puncture wound was scarcely visible. “That’s fine. I’ll check with Cinderpelt, but I don’t think you need any more herbs on it. We’ll keep an eye on it for a few more days, though.”

“Great!” mewed Ashfur. “I’m lucky it wasn’t infected, with that filthy creature’s teeth in there.”

“Well, let us know if you have any more trouble with it.”

“Hi.” Squirrelflight had deposited a couple of starlings on the fresh-kill pile and bounded up to Ashfur and her sister.

“Leafpool, you’ll never guess what we found on patrol!”

“What?”

Squirrelflight’s green eyes gleamed. “Catmint!”

“That’s impossible! You only find catmint in Twoleg gardens.” Leafpool’s heart sank into her paws. “Don’t tell me you’ve found Twoleg nests on our territory.”

“No, mousebrain. You remember the abandoned Twoleg nest that Brambleclaw and his patrol found?”

Leafpool nodded.

“Well, it’s there. The Twolegs must have had a garden once, but it’s all overgrown now. And there are these enormous clumps—only just coming up, but it’s catmint, all right.”

“That’s great!” Catmint was by far the best remedy for whitecough and the dreaded greencough that could be fatal to elders and kits. Back in the forest there had been a steady supply in Twolegplace, but Leafpool hadn’t expected to find any here.

“I’ll tell Cinderpelt right away. Thanks, Squirrelflight.”

Halfway to her den, Leafpool realized this could be the answer to her problem. She paused briefly to decide what to say, then she went to find the medicine cat.

Cinderpelt was inside her den, checking the stores of herbs. “Thank StarClan newleaf is coming,” she meowed.

“We’re down to our last poppy seed. I hope no cat gets ill for the next moon or so.”

“Then you’ll want to hear what Squirrelflight just told me.” Leafpool told her about the discovery of catmint.

Cinderpelt purred. “Could you go and collect some?”

“Sure,” Leafpool replied. “I’ll have a good nose around, and see if there’s anything else worth having.”

She was about to dart out of the den, but Cinderpelt stopped her. “Do you think you should take a warrior with you?”

Leafpool’s heart sank. An escort was the last thing she wanted. Once she might have considered taking Sorreltail, who had shared adventures with her in the past, but the young tortoiseshell had to rest now for the sake of her kits.

“I’ll be fine,” she promised Cinderpelt. “That old nest is right in the middle of our territory, and we know the fox has gone.”

“Okay. Be careful, though. Keep on the lookout for badgers.”

“I will.”

She hurried across the clearing to the thorn tunnel before anyone else could ask what she was doing. She had never been to the abandoned nest before, but she knew it was near the overgrown Twoleg path that led away from the stone hollow.

Brambleclaw thought that Twolegs had once taken stone out of the hollow, leaving their marks on the cliffs, and used the path to carry it away. Leafpool didn’t know if he was right, but the stony path made a good clear space where she could race along without being held up by undergrowth.

The morning light was still casting long shadows through the woodland when she came to the Twoleg nest. It was set back from the path, half hidden by sparse trees and thickets of bramble. A shiver went through Leafpool; though Brambleclaw had described it to her, she hadn’t known until now just how sinister the nest would feel.

I’d rather face wild foxes than go in there! she thought.

Warily she examined the tumbledown walls and the sagging piece of wood that once had blocked the entrance.

Nothing moved, and when she tasted the air there was no scent of Twolegs. However, she could pick out the scent of catmint, and she followed it until she found the clumps Squirrelflight had mentioned, not far away from the wall of the nest. Several stems were long enough to take now, and there would be plenty more later in newleaf. Leafpool bit off a few stalks and padded away from the Twoleg nest.

Instead of following the path back to camp, she cut through the woods in a wide arc until she came to the stream that marked the border with WindClan. She told herself this was the best way around the lake because ShadowClan were more likely than WindClan to be hostile if they found her on their territory.

Slipping along in the shelter of bushes, with her ears pricked for patrols from either Clan, Leafpool followed the stream until she came to the shallow place where ThunderClan had crossed when they first arrived in the territory.

Before she went any farther, Leafpool paused to hunt. She soon brought down a vole that was scuffling in the reeds. She devoured it in a few bites, still listening for the sound of other cats, then she crossed into WindClan territory.

She followed the stream on the other side until she was within two fox-lengths of the lake. Now she could breathe more easily. She was on medicine cat business so she shouldn’t encounter any trouble, even if WindClan warriors saw her.

Wishing for the wind in her paws, she raced along the lakeshore. At first she cast anxious glances behind her, in case she was spotted by ThunderClan cats patrolling the stream.

Then a fold of the hill hid her from her own territory. She slackened her pace to a brisk trot and began to think about what she was going to say to Mothwing. Suddenly she stopped dead, her heart pounding.

Would Mothwing take the warning seriously, when she didn’t believe StarClan existed?

She has to, Leafpool told herself, forcing herself to keep going. Feathertail would be watching her from StarClan, and she had to keep her promise.

Leafpool kept one eye on the moorland slopes, but there was no sign of any WindClan cats. There’s no point in looking for Crowfeather. What could you even say to him if he were here?

There was no sign of the kittypets at the horse place, either, but almost as soon as she passed the new RiverClan scent markings Leafpool spotted a patrol approaching her from the higher ground beyond the marsh. Mistyfoot was leading it, with Mosspelt and an apprentice Leafpool hadn’t met before.

“Hi, Leafpool” Mistyfoot meowed as she came up. “Is everything all right?”

Leafpool set down her stems of catmint. “I’ve brought some herbs for Mothwing.”

Mistyfoot gave the leaves a good sniff. “Catmint,” she mewed approvingly. “Thanks, Leafpool. I think Mothwing’s in camp. You can come with us—we’re just on our way back.”

Picking up her catmint again, Leafpool followed the patrol along the lakeshore until they came to a stream. They turned inland and padded beside the swift-flowing shallow water until a smaller stream joined it on the far side. The land between the two was fringed with reeds and thick with bushes. Even through the scent of catmint, Leafpool could pick up the scents of many cats.

Mistyfoot splashed across and jumped onto the opposite bank. “Welcome,” she meowed.

Leafpool picked her way more cautiously through the stream, wishing she were as confident in the water as Mistyfoot and the other RiverClan cats. They passed a bramble thicket where Dawnflower, one of the RiverClan queens, was sunning herself with three tiny kits scrambling over her flank; she acknowledged Leafpool with a wave of her tail.

Farther on, a couple of apprentices were wrestling in the shade of a clump of bracken.

Leafpool spotted a well-stocked pile of fresh-kill. “You’ve settled in well,” she commented to Mistyfoot, around the stems of catmint.

Mistyfoot gave a satisfied nod. “This is a good place.”

She led Leafpool to a spot where a thorn bush overhung the narrower stream. The bank had fallen away, and the current had scoured out a small round pool beneath the bush’s roots. Where the earth had been washed away, a smooth-sided hole had been left in the bank; from the piled leaves and berries Leafpool could see inside, she realized this must be Mothwing’s den.

Mothwing was crouched on the bank above the pool, sorting through a pile of horsetail.

“Mothwing, you’ve got a visitor,” Mistyfoot meowed.

The golden tabby glanced up and then sprang to her paws with a mrrow of delight. “Leafpool! What are you doing here?”

“I brought you this.” Leafpool jumped down and laid her catmint stems in front of Mothwing, glancing back to thank Mistyfoot as the RiverClan deputy padded away.

“Catmint!” Mothwing exclaimed. “That’s great—I haven’t found any in our territory yet.”

Leafpool looked around to make sure Mistyfoot had really gone, and that no other cat was in earshot. This was her chance to pass on Feathertail’s warning. But her fur prickled and her mouth felt dry. Something about this didn’t feel right.

Drawing closer to Mothwing, she mewed, “Actually, the catmint is only one reason I came. I have a message for you from StarClan.”

Mothwing’s blue eyes stretched wide. Leafpool suddenly wished she hadn’t come. It might look like she was suggesting Mothwing couldn’t be a proper medicine cat because the warning hadn’t come to her directly. But Mothwing said nothing, just pricked her ears as she waited for Leafpool to finish.

“I had a dream,” Leafpool told her. “Feathertail came to me.”

She hesitated as she saw Mothwing’s eyes flood with grief.

Of course, since Feathertail had been a warrior of RiverClan, Mothwing would have known her well.

“She… she told me she couldn’t get through to you. She asked me to bring you a message. RiverClan is in grave danger from Twolegs.”

The RiverClan medicine cat sat in silence for several heartbeats, her eyes thoughtful.

“Twolegs?” she meowed at last. “But there aren’t any—”

She broke off and sprang to her paws. “Leafpool, it’s been so quiet along the small Thunderpath that we haven’t bothered with it much. Maybe something has happened there. Will you come and check it out with me?”

Leafpool hesitated. She had meant to give Mothwing the message and go straight home. If she stayed much longer in RiverClan she would probably have to spend the night there.

But it was important to help Mothwing make sure that her territory held no hidden dangers.

“Yes, of course I’ll come,” she agreed, pushing aside the thought of the scolding Cinderpelt would give her. She was relieved that Mothwing didn’t seem to blame her for bringing Feathertail’s message, with all its implications that Mothwing wasn’t a true medicine cat. She felt a rush of warmth for her friend and hoped Feathertail was watching them now, seeing how devoted Mothwing was to looking after her Clanmates.

Mothwing led the way upstream until she came to a spot where a single stepping stone broke the surface of the water.

Crossing in two graceful leaps, she scrambled up the opposite bank and paused to wait for Leafpool.

“I was afraid you’d think I was talking nonsense,” Leafpool confessed in a rush, once she had jumped across the stream.

With a surge of hope she added, “Does that mean you’re starting to believe in StarClan?”

Mothwing twitched her whiskers. “No, Leafpool. I don’t believe the spirits of our warrior ancestors come back to speak with us. Stars are just unseeing specks of light in the night sky, not dead cats looking down on us. We can keep our old friends alive with memories, but if they’re not here, they’re nowhere. That’s what I believe.”

“I know.” Leafpool paused as she picked her way around a patch of thistles. “But if you don’t believe in StarClan, why take any notice of Feathertail’s warning?”

The RiverClan cat slowed down to look into Leafpool’s eyes. “Because I believe in you, Leafpool.”

Leafpool shook her head. “That’s mousebrained! How would I know anything, unless StarClan told me?”

“Because you’re a good medicine cat. You observe everything around you. Somehow you’ve seen or heard or scented something and you know it means danger, though you aren’t certain how you know. And because you believe in StarClan, it all surfaced in a dream about Feathertail. Simple.” She turned and padded on.

Leafpool didn’t think it was simple at all. But she didn’t argue. At least Mothwing had listened to Feathertail’s message.

When they reached the Thunderpath, Leafpool glanced around curiously. She had never seen this place before, although Squirrelflight had described it to her. There was a wide space covered by the same hard stuff as the Thunderpath, with a small wooden Twoleg nest in one corner. A half-bridge made of narrow strips of wood jutted out into the water. Everything was quiet.

Mothwing stood on the edge of the Thunderpath and tasted the air. “Yuck. ShadowClan,” she meowed, reminding Leafpool that this was the border of the two territories. “And something else…”

Leafpool stretched her jaws wide. There was a faint, harsh taint to the air that she had not scented for a long time. She felt the fur on her neck bristle. “Monsters have been here,” she mewed.

Mothwing met her anxious gaze. “But not recently.

There’s stale Twoleg scent too, though that reek from ShadowClan nearly covers it. Honestly, Leafpool, I don’t think we can call that ‘grave danger.’”

“Then what could the danger be?” Leafpool wondered.

Mothwing twitched the tip of her tail. “You can never tell what Twolegs will do next. Maybe it hasn’t happened yet.”

Turning away from the Thunderpath, she began to pad along the lakeshore, pausing once or twice to taste the water.

“Remember that pool with the dead rabbit?” she called over her shoulder. “How it gave all the elders a bellyache? I won’t make that mistake again. But the water here’s fine.”

When they reached the stream she checked the water there, too, before they followed it back to the RiverClan camp. She ended by taking Leafpool back to her den, where both cats drank from the little pool. The water was cool and sweet tasting, and there was no scent of anything unusual.

The sun was going down, and shadows lay thickly over the pool and stretched into Mothwing’s den. As Leafpool had feared, it was too late to go home. “Would you like to stay the night?” Mothwing offered. “You’ll never get back to ThunderClan before dark.”

“Thanks, I would.” Leafpool knew Cinderpelt would have missed her long ago, and she knew she would have to answer some awkward questions when she got back. But it would be safer to stay here for the night and go home in the early morning, especially if there might be badgers about.

A RiverClan apprentice brought Mothwing a plump fish, enough for both cats to share. As Leafpool settled down to sleep beside Mothwing in her nest of moss and bracken, she murmured, “You will remember Feathertail’s warning, won’t you? You’ll keep your eyes open for trouble?”

“What?” Mothwing muttered sleepily. “Oh, yes, Leafpool.

Of course I will. Don’t worry.”

But Leafpool couldn’t help worrying. Without having heard the warning from Feathertail herself, it would be easy for Mothwing to forget, or decide that it wasn’t important.

And Leafpool was certain that trouble was coming.