Yellowfang’s Secret

Chapter 35

Sheer horror choked Yellowfang’s words before she could speak. “I had the same dream,” she managed to whisper at last.

Raggedstar stared at her in dismay. “Great StarClan, why would we both have this vision? I would never send kits into battle! It’s against the warrior code!”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Yellowfang assured him.

Just then, the sounds of battling cats drifted through the trees. A screech split the cold, bright air, followed by Brokentail’s voice, loud and hectoring.

“No, Deerfoot, not like that! I’ve seen rabbits that could fight harder than you! And don’t snigger, Tangleburr. You’re just as feeble. Let me see that move again, and put some strength into it this time!”

Yellowfang met Raggedstar’s gaze. The Clan leader opened his jaws to speak, only to break off when they heard another vicious growl from Brokentail.

“You’re soft, all of you! Will you stop in the middle of a battle to lick your wounds? If you get hurt, you’ll learn more quickly how to avoid getting hit.”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?” Raggedstar murmured. “Our son wants to do nothing but lead ShadowClan into battle. I should never have made him deputy! What can we do to stop him?”

A flash of rage pulsed through Yellowfang. “He’s our son now, is he?” she snarled. “I have never been allowed to be his mother! You said you would only keep my secret if I never called him my son. What can I possibly do to change him? Brokentail is your problem, Raggedstar.”

“But—” The Clan leader tried to interrupt.

Yellowfang ignored him. “You have told me too many times that I am nothing more than a medicine cat. I heal my Clan, that’s all. You are responsible for what your warriors do.”

Raggedstar blinked, shocked to silence.

Yellowfang glared at him for a heartbeat, then spun around and stormed off. How dare he expect me to have any influence over Brokentail now? There was never anything I could do.

As she returned to the camp, she tried to calm herself. She took deep breaths and forced her paws into a dignified walk.

“Yellowfang!” Fernshade came rushing across to her from the warriors’ den. “You’ll never guess—I’m going to have Wolfstep’s kits!”

Yellowfang just looked at her.

“I know I’m a bit old to be having my first litter,” Fernshade chattered on happily, “and with leaf-bare approaching, it isn’t the best time, but after all, the Clan needs young blood!”

At the mention of young blood, Yellowfang froze, seeing again the scarlet tide that had risen around her from the battling kits. No! she wanted to screech aloud. Don’t have these kits! They can’t be born! Terrible things lie ahead!

Instead she forced herself to mew, “That’s great. Come with me and I’ll give you some herbs to help with your strength.”

Yellowfang was relieved to see Runningnose in their den, and she passed Fernshade’s care over to him.

“Kits!” Runningnose exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with delight. “Fernshade, that’s wonderful. Lie down here and let me check how they’re doing.”

Yellowfang watched as Runningnose ran his paws over Fernshade’s barely swollen belly, then leaned close to press his ear against the smooth curve. “Hi, little kits,” he purred. “Can you hear me in there? Make sure you grow big and strong so you’ll be good warriors for your Clan.”

Fernshade let out a little mrrow of happiness. “I’m sure they’ll be fine, with both of you to look after them.”

Yellowfang fetched burnet leaves, which were good for all expectant queens, and Fernshade swallowed them obediently.

“Come back every day for more,” Runningnose instructed, “and make sure you get enough to eat. Don’t be afraid of taking as much fresh-kill as you need. It’s important for your kits that you feed well.”

Yellowfang was distracted by voices chattering outside the den.

“I couldn’t believe what Raggedstar did!” That was Deerfoot, sounding shocked, though Yellowfang had a feeling that he was enjoying passing on gossip.

“What happened?” Tangleburr prompted.

“He interrupted our battle training and tried to tell Brokentail how to run the session! He thought Brokentail was being too hard on us.”

“Well, Raggedstar is Clan leader,” Tangleburr pointed out. “He has the right to tell any cat what to do, even his deputy.”

“He’s got no right to mess up Brokentail’s battle training!” Deerleap retorted hotly. “Brokentail is tough, sure, but he’s made me a better warrior already!”

“So what did Brokentail say?”

“He did what Raggedstar told him. He’s a loyal deputy. But I could tell he wasn’t happy…”

The young cats began to move off, and Yellowfang couldn’t hear any more of their conversation, but she felt a stir of concern in her belly. Will Brokentail start to defy his Clan leader when he knows that he has the support of the warriors?

After Fernshade had left the den, Yellowfang tracked down Raggedstar near the fresh-kill pile. “Is everything okay?” she asked, bounding over to join him.

“Fine,” Raggedstar replied. “I spoke to Brokentail and asked him to be a bit less fierce in training.”

And you trust him to do that? Yellowfang didn’t voice her doubts out loud.

“In three moons, Featherstorm’s and then Newtspeck’s kits will be ready to be apprenticed,” Raggedstar went on, “but until then Brokentail needs to focus on keeping the Clan fed and fit through the cold season.”

Yellowfang murmured agreement. “Fernshade is expecting kits,” she informed the Clan leader.

Raggedstar’s eyes widened in delight. “That’s excellent news!”

“But what about the dream we had?” Yellowfang whispered. “It must mean something terrible for the Clan.”

“Kits are always a good thing,” Raggedstar meowed; there was a hint of warning in his voice, as if he didn’t want to be contradicted.

Yellowfang knew there was no point in persisting. Instead she dipped her head and slipped past him to the fresh-kill pile.

What a miserable little heap!

With hunting so badly neglected, there was hardly any prey worth eating. The best pieces were a vole and a starling, but Yellowfang spotted Archeye and Poolcloud padding up with gloomy expressions as they surveyed the scanty pile. The elders need to be fed, Yellowfang thought. I’ll choose something else.

She took a scrawny shrew, while Archeye and Poolcloud settled down with the vole and the starling. But before they could start to eat, Frogtail bounded up to the fresh-kill pile and shouldered the elders away.

“I need this prey!” he announced. “I’m a warrior. I have to keep my strength up.”

“What?” Poolcloud bristled. “Kits and elders eat first! That’s the warrior code.”

“Let him have them,” Archeye mewed wearily, patting the vole and starling across to Frogtail. “It’s not worth arguing.”

Poolcloud still looked indignant.

Frogtail was crouching down to take his first bite of vole when Brokentail strode across the clearing and fixed him with a stern look. “Frogtail, what are you doing?” he demanded.

“Taking our food, the prey-stealer,” Poolcloud grumbled.

“What?” Brokentail’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a soft snarl. “Frogtail, give the prey back right now. The warrior code tells us that kits and elders feed first.”

“Told you!” Poolcloud mewed smugly.

“I’m shocked and disappointed in you, Frogtail,” Brokentail went on. “This isn’t the way a ShadowClan warrior behaves.”

“But you said—” Frogtail protested.

“I’m sure I never told you to steal food from those who need it more,” Brokentail interrupted, not giving Frogtail the chance to speak.

“Brokentail is right.” Raggedstar, who had been listening, padded up to join the group. “Archeye, Poolcloud, eat your fill. Frogtail, you can take out a hunting patrol and see if you can restock the fresh-kill pile.”

Frogtail sullenly rose to his paws with a glare at the elders, who crouched down and began to eat in swift bites, in case their leader changed his mind.

Meanwhile, Brokentail glanced around the camp, signaling to nearby warriors with a sweep of his tail. “Brackenfoot, Stumpytail, Blackfoot, you need to join Frogtail on a hunting patrol.”

The Clan leader and his deputy stood side by side as the patrol left the camp. Yellowfang saw that Raggedstar’s eyes gleamed with approval and satisfaction.

He and Brokentail seem to be in agreement for now, she thought uneasily. But how long will it last?

Yellowfang shifted in her nest, blinking up at the warriors of StarClan above her head. She felt exhausted, but her growling belly wouldn’t let her sleep. Frogtail’s patrol had brought back only a meager collection of prey, and she had ended up sharing a skinny blackbird with Runningnose.

“Honestly, Yellowfang!” Runningnose’s voice came from his own nest. “They can probably hear your belly rumbling in ThunderClan! Why don’t you go and catch yourself something? The night patrol went out a while ago, so make sure they don’t think you’re an intruder and flay your fur.”

“I might just do that.” Yellowfang heaved herself stiffly out of her nest and headed into the clearing. Instead of leaving the camp, she padded over to the fresh-kill pile and began nosing around the area for scraps.

She was gulping down a morsel of mouse when she heard a noise from the entrance tunnel: a cat’s voice raised in a wail of unbearable anguish. Every hair on Yellowfang’s pelt rose. Whipping around, she saw Brokentail burst into the camp. His fur was bushed out and his eyes were wild and distraught.

“WindClan ambushed us by the tunnel!” he yowled. “Raggedstar is dead!”

Yellowfang froze. The solid floor of the camp seemed to give way under her paws, and she was falling, falling into darkness. Then her head cleared and she forced her paws to move, racing over to Brokentail.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“They were waiting for us…” The deputy’s voice shook; he seemed dazed with grief and anger. “We fought. Raggedstar led us… then a WindClan cat tore out his throat.” He shook his head helplessly. “I couldn’t save him…”

“And the rest of your patrol?” Yellowfang asked, fear surging up inside her. Not more cats dead…

“Chasing the WindClan cats across the moor,” Brokentail replied.

Not waiting to hear any more, Yellowfang raced out of the camp and across the marshes toward the tunnel that led to WindClan. The reek of blood caught in her throat before she came within sight of it. At the mouth of the tunnel, Raggedstar lay stretched out. A circle of torn-up grass and fern surrounded him, and the ground was soaked with his blood. His eyes were glazed, staring sightlessly up into the sky.

Yellowfang lay down beside him and pushed her muzzle into his fur. Until then she had hoped that he hadn’t lost all his lives, or that her medicine cat skills might be enough to revive him, or even that Brokentail had mistaken the Clan leader’s losing a life for true death. But now her hope had gone. Raggedstar’s wounds were so severe they had drained all his lives at once. He hunted with StarClan now.

“I loved you so much,” she murmured. “You were all I ever wanted. We fought and hunted together, and played in the sunlight… What went wrong? How did we ever come to this?”

A memory of giving birth to Brokentail flashed into Yellowfang’s mind, and she saw once again the rage that fueled the tiny body. Another pang of grief shook her, but she pushed the memory away.

“Hunt well in StarClan,” she told Raggedstar, drawing her tongue over his fur in a long, caressing lick. “I will see you again.”

Running paw steps alerted her and she looked up to see Blackfoot, Scorchwind, and Boulder racing out of the tunnel. Spotting her with Raggedstar, they halted and stared with growing horror in their eyes.

“We fought with some WindClan cats,” Boulder mewed hoarsely. “But we didn’t know that Raggedstar was hurt.”

“How can he be dead?” Scorchwind whispered, taking a pace forward to look down at the body of his brother. “He still had nine lives!”

“A leader can lose all his lives at once if the wounds are severe enough,” Yellowfang told him quietly. “Now you must carry his body back to camp.”

As the patrol gathered around, Brokentail rushed up, the wild look still in his eyes. “Stay away from my father!” he ordered. “I will carry him, no one else!”

A rush of pity engulfed Yellowfang. My poor son…

As Boulder and Scorchwind heaved Raggedstar’s body onto Brokentail’s back, she rested her tail across his shoulders, and in a rare moment of gentleness Brokentail let it stay there while they walked slowly back to camp.