Yellowfang’s Secret

Chapter 28

The bright newleaf sun shone down as Yellowfang laid out a bundle of borage leaves and some coltsfoot to dry on the flat ground outside her den. Brokenkit was playing close by, sometimes pouncing on the end of her tail, or batting a piece of moss into the air.

“Take that, ThunderClan flea-pelt!” he growled, swiping at it with his paw. “That’ll teach you to stay out of the ShadowClan camp!”

“Look, Brokenkit,” Yellowfang meowed. “These leaves are called borage. They’re good for treating cats who have a fever. And this is—”

“Why are you telling me this stuff?” Brokenkit interrupted. “I’m not going to be a medicine cat! I’m going to be a warrior! Grrr! Watch me pounce!” He fell on the moss ball and shredded it to tiny scraps with his claws.

Yellowfang watched him fondly. She knew that Sagewhisker didn’t approve of the time Brokenkit spent with her rather than with his littermates. But I don’t see why Brokenkit should be treated like an outcast when I can look after him and make him feel special.

She twitched an ear at the sound of sniffling, and looked up to see Runningkit crouched a few tail-lengths away, gazing at her intently as she sorted the herbs. “Hi,” she mewed. “Come and look if you want to.”

Runningkit started, his fur fluffing up in alarm. For a heartbeat he hesitated, blinking anxiously, then with another huge sniff scampered off toward the nursery.

Yellowfang shrugged, turning back to Brokenkit. In two more moons her son would be apprenticed, and then she would hardly see him because he would be so busy training with his mentor. For a heartbeat she felt a pang that he wouldn’t be training with her as a medicine cat, but she consoled herself with the thought that he was clearly going to be a great warrior.

Brokenkit bounced off to find another moss ball and Yellowfang continued laying out her herbs until she saw Nightpelt padding up. He had been made a warrior two sunrises before, and Yellowfang could see his pride by the way he walked and held his head high. But he was still coughing.

I’ve tried everything: herbs, honey, planning his choice of fresh-kill so he never eats anything with feathers. But nothing works.

Every time the young warrior exerted himself, he would start coughing and gasping for breath. Yellowfang could see his frustration as he came up to her, coughing again as he tried to speak. He looks tired and thin, when he should be young and strong like his littermates.

“Sit down,” Yellowfang meowed. “Just breathe gently. I’ll get you some wet moss.”

“There must be some way of fixing this!” Nightpelt rasped when she returned.

Yellowfang shook her head. “No herbs will help,” she told him as she set the moss down beside him. “You just need to calm down and relax.”

“I know. But it’s not easy,” Nightpelt retorted. For all his troubles, there was no anger in his voice; he was still friendly and good-humored.

“I mentioned you to Hawkheart at a recent half-moon Gathering,” Yellowfang went on, as Nightpelt gratefully lapped the water from the moss. “He said that a WindClan cat had the same symptoms—coughing after running around—but without any signs of a fever or sickness. Hawkheart didn’t have a name for it; it was just something the cat had to live with.”

Nightpelt looked up apprehensively. “And what happened to the cat?”

Yellowfang half wished she hadn’t brought the subject up because there wasn’t any good news to give the young warrior. “He was unable to do all his warrior duties, and had to retire to the elders’ den early,” she admitted.

“I’ll never do that!” Nightpelt exclaimed. “I want to be a warrior! ShadowClan deserves that!”

Yellowfang stretched out her tail to rest it comfortingly on Nightpelt’s shoulder. “ShadowClan doesn’t expect its cats to work themselves to the bone when they’re not fit enough. Now, sit down and be quiet until you can breathe normally.”

Sagewhisker bustled out of the medicine cats’ den, thrusting Brokenkit in front of her. Her blue eyes were snapping with annoyance.

Yellowfang rose and went to meet them. “Is there a problem?”

“I caught this kit taking moss from the store inside the den!” Sagewhisker meowed crossly. “As if we didn’t have to work to collect it!”

Brokenkit gazed up at the old cat with defiance in his eyes. “I wanted some to play with! You can always get more!”

Sagewhisker fixed Yellowfang with a stern gaze, clearly expecting her to deal with him.

“Brokenkit, if you want moss you know where to get some,” Yellowfang mewed. “There’s plenty behind the elders’ den. But please don’t take the moss from our store.” Does Sagewhisker expect me to punish him? she wondered. He’s only a kit!

She was trying to figure what to do when Deerkit and Tanglekit tumbled out of the nursery and bounded across to Brokenkit.

“Still hanging out with the medicine cats?” Deerkit sneered. “Old she-cats and a sick warrior are the only friends you’ve got!”

Tanglekit padded forward until she was almost nose-to-nose with Brokenkit. “What skills are you learning?” she asked in a mock-interested voice. “How to dry herbs? Ooh, our enemies will be scared!”

“Yeah, I can just hear him in a battle!” Deerkit added. “‘Come one step closer and I’ll slap you with this leaf!’”

Brokenkit’s neck fur bristled up and he swiped at Deerkit, catching him a blow on the nose.

Deerkit let out an outraged yowl. “That hurt!”

“And it serves you right,” Yellowfang snapped. “Go back to the nursery until you learn how to be nice.”

The two kits trailed off, casting resentful glances behind them as they went.

“Don’t listen to them, Brokenkit,” Yellowfang went on when they had gone. “There’s nothing wrong with—”

Brokenkit turned on her, anger flaring in his eyes. “They’re right. I’m not learning anything useful here! You’re just a dumb old medicine cat, not a warrior. Why do you make me come here all the time?”

“I don’t make you.” Shocked, Yellowfang reached out her tail to him, but Brokenkit batted it away.

“Quit bugging me, and leave me alone!” With a furious hiss, he ran off.

Yellowfang stared after him miserably. What have I done?

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” Sagewhisker murmured in her ear. “He needs to grow up as normal as possible so that he’s not singled out any more than he already has been.”

Yellowfang rounded on her. “What would you know?” she demanded. “He’s my son! I’d do anything to stop him from being hurt!”

In the days that followed, Brokenkit avoided the medicine cats’ den. Yellowfang never gave up hope that he would come back. Every time she heard him outside she would rush to the entrance, but he always turned away from her. Yet he was constantly alone; his littermates went on ignoring him, even Runningkit, who had never joined in the bullying since Yellowfang had interrupted them.

Watching Brokenkit wrestle with a stick in the middle of the clearing, Yellowfang’s heart ached for him. He was so strong and confident and handsome; even his crooked tail didn’t show so much now that his fur had thickened. But he doesn’t have any friends.

“Brokenkit never plays with the others.”

Yellowfang was startled to hear her own thoughts spoken aloud. The voice was Amberleaf’s; the dark orange she-cat was strolling past with Blizzardwing, on their way to join Raggedpelt, who was sorting out the patrols near the camp entrance.

“Well, he’s not like the others, is he?” Blizzardwing commented. “But he’s a strong young cat. He’ll be fine once he’s an apprentice.”

The two cats padded on, out of earshot. Yellowfang gazed after them, trying to comfort herself with the thought that Blizzardwing was right.

When the patrols had left, Raggedpelt bounded over to where Brokenkit was playing and stood watching him. After a moment, Brokenkit realized that he was there and looked up.

“Try attacking with both paws at once,” Raggedpelt advised. “If it was a real enemy, you’d need to leap on him with the full power of your claws.”

Brokenkit nodded and leaped on the stick again, smashing both paws down on it so that it splintered. Raggedpelt gave him a nod of approval.

Cedarstar had emerged from his den to watch the exchange between Raggedpelt and his son. “He looks very strong,” he remarked to Raggedpelt.

“Yes, he’s ready to be an apprentice,” Raggedpelt responded proudly.

Yellowfang glimpsed a flash of trouble in Cedarstar’s eyes as he studied Brokenkit battering the stick. “Being an apprentice isn’t just about being able to fight our enemies,” he meowed. “Brokenkit needs to learn the importance of patience, honor, and loyalty as well, just like any young cat.”

“He’ll have all of those!” Raggedpelt assured him. “Just you wait!”

As Yellowfang watched Brokenkit glowering over the pieces of stick, she tried to suppress the memory of Molepelt’s dire warning. Brokenkit is going to be fine!

A heart-wrenching cry from her den drove these thoughts from Yellowfang’s mind. She spun around and raced inside to find Sagewhisker sprawled on her side next to the herb stores, gasping in pain. In the same heartbeat Yellowfang felt a searing agony in her chest. For a moment her heart seemed to stop, and she couldn’t breathe.

No! Sagewhisker!

Using all the control she had taught herself, Yellowfang fought through the pain and staggered to Sagewhisker’s side. “Hold on!” she begged. “Please hold on! I’ll help you…”

“I can’t… it’s too much,” Sagewhisker hissed through clenched teeth. “StarClan needs me now…”

“What’s happening?” Brightflower appeared at the entrance to the den and rushed across to Sagewhisker.

At the same moment Sagewhisker’s whole body convulsed and then was still. Her clear blue eyes clouded over, gazing at nothing.

“Sagewhisker…” Yellowfang whispered.

“She hunts with StarClan now,” Brightflower murmured, laying her tail across Yellowfang’s shoulder and drawing her away. “She served her Clan well,” she meowed. “No ShadowClan cat will ever forget her.”

Yellowfang nodded, but she was too stunned to say anything. She was aware of Brightflower leaving the den, and a short while later Cedarstar appeared. Yellowfang watched in a blur as he stood beside Sagewhisker’s body and dipped his head in a gesture of respect.

“Farewell, Clanmate,” he meowed. “You were a good medicine cat and a good friend. May you continue to guide ShadowClan as you walk in the stars.”

The elders followed the Clan leader into the den and carried Sagewhisker’s body into the clearing for the vigil. Yellowfang stumbled after them, numb with grief. The rest of the Clan padded up, touching their noses to Sagewhisker’s cold fur, quietly sharing memories of her as they gathered around.

Yellowfang crouched beside her mentor all the rest of that day and all night, while the stars whirled overhead. “I’m sorry, Sagewhisker,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry for letting you down. I promise to uphold the code of the medicine cats until my very last breath.” Her voice cracked. “I owe you so much…”

The sky was milky pale when the elders arrived to take Sagewhisker’s body away for burial. Yellowfang rose to her paws, feeling stiff and dazed after the long vigil.

“May StarClan light your path, Sagewhisker,” she mewed, her voice ringing out over the camp as she spoke the ancient farewell for all lost Clanmates. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.” Then she stood back to let Littlebird, Stonetooth, and Lizardfang pick up the body.

Littlebird paused beside her. “You’ll be a good medicine cat,” she murmured kindly. “Just as Sagewhisker was. ShadowClan is lucky to have you.”

Yellowfang watched as the three elders bore Sagewhisker’s body out of the camp.

Oh, Littlebird, I wish I could believe you!