A Warrior's Spirit
Page 22
“The hunting is very poor in ShadowClan,” he replied; Shadowpaw felt a twinge of alarm at how discouraged his mentor sounded. “If this freezing cold goes on much longer, I don’t know what we’ll do.”
The remaining medicine cats exchanged glances of relief, as if they were glad to learn their Clan wasn’t the only one suffering.
Willowshine nodded in agreement. “Many RiverClan cats are getting sick because it’s so cold.”
“In ThunderClan too,” Alderheart murmured.
“We’re running out of herbs,” Fidgetflake added with a twitch of his whiskers. “And the few we have left are shriveled and useless.”
Frecklewish gave her Clanmate a sympathetic glance. “I’ve heard some of the younger warriors joking about running off to be kittypets,” she meowed.
“No cat had better say that in my hearing.” Jayfeather drew his lips back in the beginning of a snarl. “Or they’ll wish they hadn’t.”
“Keep your fur on, Jayfeather,” Frecklewish responded. “It was only a joke. All SkyClan cats are loyal to their Clan.”
Jayfeather’s only reply was an irritated flick of his ears.
“I don’t suppose any of you have spare supplies of catmint?” Kestrelflight asked hesitantly. “The clumps that grow in WindClan are all blackened by frost. We won’t have any more until newleaf.”
Most of the cats shook their heads, except for Willowshine, who rested her tail encouragingly on Kestrelflight’s shoulder. “RiverClan can help,” she promised. “There’s catmint growing in the Twoleg gardens near our border. It’s more sheltered there.”
“Thanks, Willowshine.” Kestrelflight’s voice was unsteady. “There’s whitecough in the WindClan camp, and without catmint I’m terrified it will turn to greencough.”
“Meet me by the border tomorrow at sunhigh,” Willowshine mewed. “I’ll show you where the catmint grows.”
“This is all well and good,” Jayfeather snorted, “every cat getting along, but let’s not forget why we’re here. I’m much more interested in what StarClan has to say. Shall we begin?” He paced to the edge of the Moonpool and stretched out one forepaw to touch the surface, only to draw his paw back with a gasp of surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Puddleshine asked. One by one, the medicine cats cautiously approached the Moonpool’s surface. Shadowpaw sniffed the Moonpool curiously, then reached out a tentative paw. He was stunned when he hit something solid. What in the stars . . . ? Instead of water, he had touched ice, so thin that it gave way under the pressure of his pad, the splinters bobbing at the water’s edge.
“The Moonpool is beginning to freeze,” Kestrelflight meowed, while Shadowpaw licked the icy water from his paw. That felt really weird!
“Well, that proves it: the cold is worse than usual,” Jayfeather grumbled.
“Has it never happened before?” Fidgetflake asked, his eyes wide.
“I can’t recall it happening before,” Mothwing replied in an even voice. “There has been ice in the Moonpool from time to time, but I don’t remember it freezing all the way through.”
“Well, never mind—it’s time to share dreams with StarClan,” Jayfeather announced abruptly. “Maybe they can tell us how long we have to suffer this bitter cold.”
“And maybe we’ll be able to speak with Leafpool,” Willowshine added, her voice soft with grief.
Shadowpaw had hardly known the ThunderClan medicine cat, but he had heard stories about her and knew how much every cat in the forest admired her. Even though ThunderClan had two other medicine cats, they must be feeling the loss of Leafpool as if a badger had torn away one of their limbs. He noticed that Jayfeather had closed his eyes, as if he was struggling with desperate pain, and he remembered that Leafpool had been Jayfeather’s mother as well as his mentor.
Suddenly Shadowpaw could forgive all Jayfeather’s earlier gruffness. Dovewing can be really embarrassing at times, treating me like I’m still a kit, but I can’t imagine how much it would hurt to lose her.
Alderheart drew closer to his Clanmate. “She still watches over us from StarClan,” he murmured.
“I know.” Shadowpaw could hardly hear Jayfeather’s low-voiced response. “But even for medicine cats, it’s not the same.”
Huddling together for warmth, the nine medicine cats stretched their necks out over the Moonpool and lowered their heads to touch their noses to the surface. Shadowpaw’s breathing grew rapid from excitement. Within a couple of heartbeats, he knew, he would find himself transported into StarClan; either that, or the StarClan warriors would leave their territory and come to meet with the living cats at the Moonpool.
Instead there was only silence. Then, as the moments crawled by, Shadowpaw heard a confused clamor of cats’ voices, faint as if coming from an immense distance. He couldn’t make out what the cats were trying to say, or even if there were coherent words in their cries. Alarmed, Shadowpaw looked up to find cloudy images in the sky, like scraps of softly glowing mist. For a few heartbeats, each of the scraps would almost solidify into the form of a cat, then fade and dissolve again into a shapeless blur.
Icy fear flooded over Shadowpaw, and he pressed himself closer to Puddleshine’s side. Fighting back panic, he tried to tell himself that he was being stupid. I haven’t been to the Moonpool as many times as the others, he told himself. Maybe this isn’t unusual.
But as the misty images faded, Shadowpaw saw that the other medicine cats were staring at one another, shocked and unnerved. “Has this happened before?” he asked, striving to stop his voice from squeaking like a terrified kit.
Kestrelflight shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” he replied. “I’ve never even heard of it, not from any cat.”
The other medicine cats murmured agreement.
“What does it mean?” Shadowpaw asked. “It can’t be good . . . right?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Puddleshine pressed his muzzle briefly into Shadowpaw’s shoulder, a comforting gesture. “Maybe it’s because the Moonpool is freezing over. Once it thaws, the StarClan cats will be stronger presences again.”
Shadowpaw wished he could believe his mentor, but the other medicine cats were exchanging doubtful looks, and he wasn’t sure that even Puddleshine believed what he had just said. However, no cat spoke to contradict him. None of them seemed ready to talk about what had happened—they just headed back up the slope and out of the hollow, then said their farewells.
Padding at Puddleshine’s side on the way back to ShadowClan, Shadowpaw still felt a worried tingle in his fur. If this has never happened before, why is it happening now? What does it mean? Turning to Puddleshine, he opened his jaws and began, “What do you—”
But Puddleshine’s expression had grown somehow remote, as if he was turned in on himself in thought. Shadowpaw didn’t know why, but he got the sense that this wasn’t the time to bother his mentor with an apprentice’s questions.
Remembering the cloudy shapes and the distant voices, Shadowpaw felt a dark cloud hovering over him and all the Clans, as if a devastating storm were about to unleash itself. Once again he tried to tell himself that he was anxious because he didn’t have the others’ experience. He just needed more time to get used to it.
Surely that’s all it is . . . right?
Books by Erin Hunter
NOVELLA COLLECTIONS
The Untold Stories
Tales from the Clans
Shadows of the Clans
Legends of the Clans
Path of a Warrior
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Copyright
A WARRIOR’S SPIRIT. Pebbleshine’s Kits, Tree’s Roots, Mothwing’s Secret. Copyright © 2020 by Working Partners Limited. Series created by Working Partners Limited. Map art © 2020 by Dave Stevenson. Interior art © 2020 by Owen Richardson. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read
the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art © 2020 by Owen Richardson
Cover design by Ellice M. Lee
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019026612
Digital Edition MARCH 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-285742-2
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-285741-5
2021222324PC/BRR10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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