Long Shadows

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Long Shadows Page 3

by Erin Hunter


  “Birchfall, Hazeltail, get back here now.” Sandstorm took a pace forward, only to find her way blocked by Ivytail.

  “Can’t your young warriors fight their own battles?” the ShadowClan warrior sneered. “A battle they started?” She unsheathed her claws and drew back her lips in a snarl.

  Brambleclaw bounded forward to stand at Sandstorm’s side. “No. This battle was provoked by ShadowClan.”

  Another yowl split the air from the fighting cats. Hollyleaf cringed at the sound of ripping fur, as if the claws were raking her own pelt. “Stop!” she screeched. “What are you doing?”

  To her surprise, the battling cats fell apart, panting. At once Brambleclaw stepped forward and thrust Birchfall and Hazeltail back across the border onto their own territory.

  “There’s been enough fighting,” he meowed. “Come on, ThunderClan.” As they started to leave, he paused and looked back over his shoulder at the ShadowClan patrol. “You can believe what you want, so long as you stay on your own side of the border.”

  “We weren’t the ones who crossed it in the first place,” Ivytail hissed.

  Brambleclaw turned his back on her and bounded ahead to lead the patrol away.

  “Are you okay?” Hollyleaf murmured to Hazeltail; her Clanmate was blundering through the woods, stumbling over branches and letting trailing brambles rake her pelt.

  “I’m a little dizzy,” Hazeltail confessed. “I hit my head on a branch when I was trying to pull Scorchpaw off Birchfall.”

  “Here, I’ll guide you.” Hollyleaf rested her tail on Hazeltail’s shoulder. “We’ll let Leafpool take a look at you when we get back to camp. Birchfall was lucky that you did help him,” she added. “He would have got an even worse clawing without you.”

  The young ThunderClan warrior was limping along with blood oozing from a gash on his shoulder. When the patrol paused by the bramble thicket to collect Sandstorm’s thrush and their other prey, he sat down and began to wash the wound with vigorous strokes of his tongue.

  “Birchfall, you asked for that.” Brambleclaw paused in digging up his vole. “ShadowClan shouldn’t have accused us of trying to cross the border, but you put us in the wrong when you started the fight. Warriors should know how to control themselves.”

  “Sorry,” Birchfall mumbled.

  “So you should be.”

  When the patrol set off again, Brambleclaw and Sandstorm remained grimly silent. Birchfall padded after them with his head down.

  Hazeltail was beginning to recover. “Thanks, Hollyleaf,” she mewed, shaking off her friend’s tail. “I can manage now. Don’t you think Brambleclaw was hard on Birchfall?” she went on. “ShadowClan was asking for a fight.”

  “That doesn’t mean we were right to give them one,” Hollyleaf replied absently. She was finding it hard to pay attention to anything. Horror gripped her like an extra pelt, thick enough to choke her. ShadowClan believed that Sol held the answers to a better future, but they were wrong.

  He’ll destroy the Clans, she thought, terror freezing her limbs until she could barely set one paw in front of another. Somehow, we have to find a way to stop him.

  CHAPTER 2

  Jaypaw slid into the nursery with a bunch of catmint clamped in his jaws. The sharp scent of the herbs didn’t disguise the warm, milky scent of the nursing queens, or the underlying sourness that made Jaypaw’s fur prickle uneasily.

  Daisy’s sleepy voice greeted him. “Hi, Jaypaw.”

  “Hi, Daisy,” Jaypaw mumbled around the mouthful of herbs. “Hey, Millie.”

  Millie’s only reply was a cough. Jaypaw padded over to her, across the thick layer of moss and bracken that covered the nursery floor, and dropped the herbs beside her. “Leafpool sent you those.”

  “Thanks, Jaypaw.” Millie’s voice was hoarse. “Will you take a look at Briarkit? Her pelt feels really hot.”

  Jaypaw nuzzled among the kits, who were sleeping pressed up close to their mother’s belly, until he identified Briarkit by her scent. The little kit was restless, letting out faint mews in her sleep and shifting about in the moss as if she couldn’t get comfortable. Jaypaw sniffed her all over, catching a whiff of the same sour scent that came from Millie. Her pelt was hot, just as Millie said, and her nose was dry.

  Briarkit might have caught her mother’s cough! he thought worriedly. Aloud he said, “I’ll get Leafpool to send her some borage leaves for the fever. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” I hope I sound more confident than I feel, he added to himself.

  As he listened to Millie chewing up the catmint, Jaypaw wondered whether it would be better to move her and Briarkit out of the nursery, so that the infection wouldn’t spread any further. It would be easier to look after them in Leafpool’s den.

  But then Millie wouldn’t be able to feed Blossomkit and Bumblekit.

  He could sense sharp pangs of anxiety coming from Daisy, the fear that Rosekit and Toadkit would start coughing, too. There was nothing Jaypaw could say to reassure her. His claws worked impatiently in the mossy bedding. If I’ve got the power of the stars in my paws, why can’t I cure a cough?

  The nursery felt hot and stifling, cramped with all five kits and the two mothers in there. Jaypaw was eager to be out in the open again, but he needed to wait and see if the catmint had helped Millie at all.

  He heard a scuffling from Daisy’s direction, and Toadkit’s voice. “I’m a WindClan warrior, and I’m coming to get you!”

  “I’ll get you first!” Rosekit mewed back.

  The two kits started to wrestle; one flailing paw hit Jaypaw on the shoulder.

  “That’s enough!” Daisy scolded. “If you want to play, go outside.”

  The two kits bundled past Jaypaw and he heard their excited mews dying away as they dashed out into the clearing.

  The long-furred she-cat sighed. “Sometimes I can’t wait for them to be apprenticed.”

  “It won’t be long now,” Jaypaw meowed. “They’re strong kits.”

  Daisy sighed again; Jaypaw could still sense that she was worrying, but she didn’t try to put her fears into words.

  “My throat feels better now,” Millie announced, swallowing the last of the herbs. “Thanks, Jaypaw.”

  Another loud bout of coughing interrupted her. Jaypaw flinched as a ball of sticky spit caught him on the ear. “I’ll go and talk to Leafpool,” he mewed hurriedly, backing toward the entrance to the den.

  On his way out he clawed up a pawful of moss and rolled over on it to clean his ear. I wonder what happens if a medicine cat gets sick. Who looks after the Clan then? Shrugging, he headed across the clearing toward the den he shared with Leafpool.

  As he brushed past the bramble screen, Jaypaw picked up the scents of other cats as well as Leafpool; sniffing, he distinguished Birchfall and Hazeltail. There was a tang of blood in the air.

  “Who’s hurt?” he demanded, his neck fur rising at the thought of another battle.

  “Birchfall has a wounded shoulder,” Leafpool explained. “Picking a fight with ShadowClan cats, by the sound of it.”

  “They picked a fight with us,” Birchfall protested.

  “And whose claws came out first?” the ThunderClan medicine cat retorted. “Brambleclaw told me all about it. You’re lucky it’s no worse. That cobweb should stop the bleeding,” she went on, “but come back if it starts again. And I want to see you tomorrow in any case, to make sure the gash is healing well.”

  “Okay.” Birchfall sounded disgruntled, then added, “Thanks, Leafpool.”

  “You too, Hazeltail,” Leafpool continued. “If the dizziness comes back, I want you in here straightaway. Now both of you take these poppy seeds and go and have a good sleep in the warriors’ den. No more duties until tomorrow.”

  Hazeltail and Birchfall brushed past Jaypaw on their way out of the den. As their scents faded, Leafpool asked, “How’s Millie?”

  “She says her throat feels better,” Jaypaw replied, “but she’s still coughing. And Briarkit is feverish. I think she
might have caught the cough too.”

  “Oh, no!” Jaypaw picked up Leafpool’s sudden spurt of anxiety. “I’ll go over there and take a look,” she meowed. “And then I’ll have to go into the forest—we’re low on borage leaves for fevers. Can you check the elders?”

  Jaypaw stifled a groan. “Sure.” He would much rather go out into the forest; he could find borage by scent just as well as Leafpool could by sight.

  “I’m worried Mousefur might still be stiff after scrambling up to the Highledge during the battle,” Leafpool went on. “And they’ll both need checking for ticks.”

  That’s an apprentice job, Jaypaw thought resentfully as his mentor padded past him on her way to the nursery. He answered himself: So? That’s what you are, an apprentice. Get on with it.

  He had been proud of his littermates when Firestar had made them warriors, but Jaypaw had no idea when Leafpool would give him his name as a full medicine cat, and he would walk in her shadow until she died. He didn’t want her to die, and yet…Can’t I have anything for myself? How long before the prophecy is fulfilled?

  Trying to banish the thoughts clawing at his belly, he found a twig and collected a ball of moss soaked in mouse bile from the cave where Leafpool kept her supplies. Wrinkling his nose against the acrid smell, he stalked across the clearing to the elders’ den under the hazel bush.

  “Hi, Jaypaw,” Longtail meowed drowsily as he approached; Jaypaw was surprised that the blind elder could pick out his scent even with the tang of mouse bile in the air.

  “It’s good to see you,” Mousefur added. “I’ve got a tick on my shoulder that feels as big as a blackberry.”

  “Let me look,” Jaypaw mumbled around the twig. At least Mousefur sounded in a good mood today. If she was in a bad temper she could claw with her tongue almost as harshly as Yellowfang, the former ThunderClan medicine cat whom Jaypaw met in his dreams.

  He soon found the tick—not as big as Mousefur said, but swollen enough to make her uncomfortable—and dabbed mouse bile on it until it dropped off.

  Mousefur flexed her shoulder. “Thanks, Jaypaw. That’s a whole lot better.”

  Jaypaw set the twig aside and began searching the skinny elder’s fur to see if she had picked up any more ticks. “Leafpool wondered if you were stiff after climbing to the Highledge.”

  Mousefur snorted. “Tell young Leafpool that I may be an elder but I’m not completely helpless. Why would I be stiff after a little climb like that?”

  “Good,” Jaypaw muttered. “Now, do you want your ticks fixed? ’Cause if you do, keep still.”

  “Is that how you talk to an elder?” Mousefur’s voice was tart, but Jaypaw could feel her amusement. She settled herself comfortably and went on, “You were at the Gathering, weren’t you? What happened? I know there was trouble, but no cat tells us anything. Was it WindClan again?”

  “No…” Jaypaw hesitated. He didn’t want to discuss Sol with any cat.

  “Well?” Mousefur snapped. “Badger got your tongue?”

  “ShadowClan didn’t come,” Jaypaw began, choosing his words carefully. “Just Blackstar. He had Sol with him.”

  “Sol? That tricky lump of fur who told us the sun would disappear?”

  “Yes.” Jaypaw was surprised that Mousefur seemed so hostile. “You didn’t like Sol, then?”

  “I don’t trust any cat who knows things that StarClan hasn’t told our medicine cat,” Mousefur replied. “There’s something wrong there, or I’m a rabbit.”

  “Blackstar spoke to the Gathering,” Jaypaw went on, relieved that Mousefur didn’t know Sol had almost become his mentor for fulfilling the secret prophecy. “He said that Sol had persuaded him and ShadowClan not to listen to StarClan anymore.”

  “What?” Jaypaw felt Mousefur’s pelt begin to bristle. “But every Clan cat listens to StarClan. What else are they supposed to do?”

  Jaypaw shrugged. “Blackstar thinks living cats can look after themselves.”

  Mousefur snorted. “No more than I’d expect from that flea-brain. So what did StarClan have to say about it?”

  “Nothing,” Jaypaw admitted. “The moon kept on shining, bright and clear.”

  He felt Mousefur’s muscles tense under his paws. “That doesn’t make sense,” she muttered.

  Though Jaypaw agreed, he didn’t reply, just retrieved the ball of mouse bile to deal with another tick near the old cat’s tail. “There, you’re done,” he mewed when the tick plopped onto the floor.

  Mousefur grunted her thanks, and Jaypaw turned to Longtail. The blind elder had remained silent as Jaypaw passed on the news of the Gathering; Jaypaw could pick up mingled feelings of guilt and confusion. He guessed that Longtail was still feeling bad that he hadn’t been able to fight beside his Clan in the battle. There wasn’t much Jaypaw could say to comfort him. He was blind, too, but at least he had been able to use his medicine cat skills to help.

  “Keep still,” he meowed, parting Longtail’s fur gently and making sure his claws were sheathed. “I’ll soon check you for ticks.”

  “Thanks, Jaypaw.” Longtail relaxed a little. “Could you check my pad, too?” he added, holding out one forepaw. “I think it got scraped on the stones when I climbed up to the Highledge.”

  “Sure.” Jaypaw didn’t find any ticks, and set the mouse bile on one side to run his paws over Longtail’s pad. There was no sign of blood, but he could feel grit embedded in the roughened skin.

  Bending his head, Jaypaw rasped his tongue over Longtail’s paw until it felt smooth again. “I don’t think you need any yarrow, but I’ll check it again tomorrow. Keep it clean, and give it a good lick now and again.”

  “I’ll do that,” Longtail meowed. “It feels better already.”

  Jaypaw picked up the twig and squeezed his way out of the elders’ den. I wish we could sort out Sol and ShadowClan as easily as I can sort out a scraped pad.

  He picked up Hollyleaf’s scent close by. A blast of anxiety hit him, like walking into the teeth of a gale; he could almost feel his fur flattened by it.

  “I thought you’d never finish!” his sister exclaimed.

  “What’s the matter?” Jaypaw asked her.

  “We’ve got to talk.” Hollyleaf’s voice was low and tense. “There was a fight on the ShadowClan border this morning.”

  “I know,” Jaypaw replied. “So what? There are border skirmishes all the time.”

  “This wasn’t just a border skirmish,” Hollyleaf hissed. “It’s all about Sol. He’s telling the ShadowClan cats to ignore the warrior code.”

  “We already knew that,” Jaypaw pointed out.

  Hollyleaf’s anxiety crackled like lightning. “Look, we can’t talk now. We need Lionblaze here. Sandstorm and Cloudtail are waiting for me to go on another hunting patrol, so we’ll meet when I get back, okay?”

  “Okay.” Jaypaw knew that Hollyleaf wouldn’t give up until he agreed.

  “Hollyleaf!” Cloudtail’s voice came from the other side of the camp.

  “Coming!” Hollyleaf called back. “I’ll catch you later,” she mewed to Jaypaw, and bounded off.

  Shaking his head, half irritated and half worried by his sister’s distress, Jaypaw padded back to his own den.

  Jaypaw was tidying the supply of yarrow when Leafpool returned from the forest with a huge bunch of borage leaves. “I was lucky to find these,” she meowed, dropping the stems at Jaypaw’s paws. “It’s time we started stocking up getting ready for leaf-bare.”

  “I can go out and start collecting stuff,” Jaypaw suggested hopefully. Anything to get out of camp!

  “In a day or two, maybe,” Leafpool replied. “We should go through the stores first, and check on what we need. Meanwhile, you can shred some of these leaves and chew them into pulp for Briarkit.”

  Boring! But Jaypaw knew better than to object. He pushed the yarrow to the back of the cleft where they stored herbs and began tearing the borage leaves apart with his claws. He’d gotten through less than half the pile when he hea
rd paw steps outside the den and caught a whiff of fresh-kill. He picked up Hollyleaf’s scent, too; the hunting patrol had returned.

  “Sorry,” he mewed to Leafpool, springing to his paws. “There’s something I’ve got to do.”

  He brushed past the bramble screen and tracked his sister by her scent. He bounded forward and felt her muzzle brush his shoulder as she ran to meet him.

  “Come on,” she urged breathlessly. “Lionblaze is waiting for us behind the warriors’ den.”

  Jaypaw followed her, squeezing into the space where they used to play when they were kits. “It’s a bit more squashed in here than I remember,” he muttered as he edged between his two littermates.

  “Because we’re bigger, mouse-brain,” Hollyleaf snapped.

  “And they extended the warriors’ den,” Lionblaze added. “There’s still not enough room in there, though. I kind of envy Foxpaw and Icepaw, now they’ve got the apprentices’ den all to themselves.”

  “Not for long,” Jaypaw replied. “Rosekit and Toadkit will be in there pretty soon.” He winced as Hollyleaf stuck her paw into his side. “Hey, watch it!”

  “There’s a thorn stuck between my toes and I can’t reach it,” Hollyleaf explained.

  “Okay.” Jaypaw felt around his sister’s paw until he located the thorn, digging in deep between the beds of her claws.

  “Hollyleaf, tell us what’s on your mind,” Lionblaze suggested; Jaypaw could feel his impatience like a cloud of stinging flies. “We can’t stay stuck behind here all day.”

  “I’m worried about what Sol is teaching the ShadowClan cats,” Hollyleaf began. “Ivytail said he told them not to listen to StarClan anymore.”

  Jaypaw drew back from Hollyleaf’s paw with the thorn gripped between his teeth. He spat it out. “We heard that at the Gathering,” he pointed out. “Is it such a bad thing?”

  “What?” Hollyleaf sounded outraged.

  “I don’t mean about ignoring StarClan. But it’s good for cats to question things instead of just accepting them.”

 

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