by Erin Hunter
“But they look so hungry,” Ferncloud mewed gently. “And ThunderClan never took fish from the lake anyway. Can’t we let them have it?”
Dustpelt touched his nose briefly to his mate’s ear. “Prey is scarce for us, too,” he reminded her.
“We will not attack RiverClan warriors,” Firestar decided. “Not unless they set paw on the ThunderClan territory within our scent marks—three tail-lengths from the shore, as we agreed when we came here. Brambleclaw, make sure that the patrols understand that when you send them out tomorrow.”
“Of course, Firestar,” the deputy replied, with a wave of his tail.
Lionblaze’s pelt prickled. Even though he respected Firestar’s conclusion because he was the Clan leader, Lionblaze wasn’t sure that he had made the right decision this time. Won’t RiverClan think we’re weak if we let them come around our side of the lake?
He jumped at the flick of a tail on his haunches and glanced around to see that Jayfeather had caught up to him.
“Leopardstar’s got bees in her brain,” his brother announced. “She’ll never get away with this. Sooner or later, cats will get clawed.”
“I know.” Curiously, Lionblaze added, “I heard some ShadowClan cats at the Gathering saying that Leopardstar lost two lives recently. Is it true?”
Jayfeather gave him a curt nod. “Yes.”
“She never announced it,” Lionblaze commented.
Jayfeather halted, giving his brother a look of such sharp intelligence that Lionblaze found it hard to believe that his brilliant blue eyes couldn’t see anything. “Come on, Lionblaze. When does a Clan leader ever announce they’ve lost a life? It would make them sound weak. Cats don’t necessarily know how many lives their own leader has left.”
“I suppose so,” Lionblaze admitted, padding on.
“Leopardstar lost a life from a thorn scratch that got infected,” Jayfeather continued. “And then straight after that she caught some kind of illness that made her terribly thirsty and weak, too. She couldn’t even walk as far as the stream to get a drink.”
“Mothwing and Willowshine told you all that?” Lionblaze asked, aware that medicine cats would confide in one another without thinking of the Clan rivalries that made warriors wary of saying too much.
“It doesn’t matter how I found out,” Jayfeather retorted. “I know, that’s all.”
Lionblaze suppressed a shiver. Even though he knew that Jayfeather’s powers came from the prophecy, it still bothered him that his brother padded down paths that no cat, not even another medicine cat, had ever trodden before. Jayfeather knew things without being told—not even by StarClan. He could walk in other cats’ dreams and learn their deepest secrets.
“I guess that’s why Leopardstar is making such a nuisance of herself about the fish,” Lionblaze murmured, pushing his uneasiness away. “She wants to prove to her Clan that she’s still strong.”
“She’s going about it the wrong way,” Jayfeather stated flatly. “She should know that she can’t make the other Clans follow her orders. RiverClan will be worse off in the end than if they’d just struggled through the drought on their own territory, like the rest of us.”
They were approaching the stream that marked the border between WindClan and ThunderClan. The water that had spilled into the lake with a rush and a gurgle just last newleaf had dwindled to a narrow stream of green slime, easily leaped over. Lionblaze drew a breath of relief as he plunged into the undergrowth beyond, under the familiar trees of his own territory.
“Maybe it’ll all blow over,” he meowed hopefully. “Leopardstar might see sense when she thinks about what the other leaders told her at the Gathering.”
Jayfeather let out a contemptuous snort. “Hedgehogs will fly before Leopardstar backs down. No, Lionblaze, the only thing that will solve our problem is for the lake to fill up again.”
Lionblaze was padding through long, lush grass, his paws sinking into water at every step. A cool breeze ruffled his fur. Any moment now, he could put down his head and drink as much as he wanted, relieving the thirst that burned inside him like a thorn. A vole popped out of the reed bed in front of him, but before Lionblaze could leap on it, something hard poked him in the side. He woke up to find himself in his nest in the warriors’ den, with Cloudtail standing over him. His fur felt sticky, and the air smelled of dust.
“Wake up,” the white warrior meowed, giving Lionblaze another prod. “What are you, a dormouse?”
“Did you have to do that?” Lionblaze complained. “I was having this really great dream…”
“And now you can go on a really great water patrol.” Cloudtail’s tone was unsympathetic. Since the streams that fed the lake had dried up, the only source of water was the shallow, brackish pool in the middle of the lake bed. Patrols went down several times a day to collect water for the Clan, in addition to hunting and patrolling as usual. The greenleaf nights seemed shorter than ever when every cat was tired out from extra duties.
Lionblaze’s jaws gaped in an enormous yawn. “Okay, I’m coming.”
He followed Cloudtail out of the den, shaking scraps of moss from his pelt. The sky was pale with the first light of dawn, and although the sun had not yet risen the air was hot and heavy. Lionblaze groaned inwardly at the thought of yet another dry, scorching day.
Hazeltail, her apprentice, Blossompaw, Berrynose, and Icecloud were sitting outside the den; they rose to their paws as Cloudtail appeared with Lionblaze. None of them had been to the Gathering the night before, but Lionblaze could tell from their tense expressions that they knew about Leopardstar’s threats.
“Let’s go.” Cloudtail waved his tail toward the thorn tunnel.
As Lionblaze padded through the forest behind the white warrior, he overheard Berrynose boasting to Icecloud: “RiverClan had better not mess with us when we get to the lake. I’ll teach any cat not to get in my fur.”
Icecloud murmured something in reply that Lionblaze didn’t catch. Berrynose thinks he’s so great, he thought. But it’s mouse-brained to go looking for trouble when none of us is strong enough for a battle.
To his relief, Cloudtail took his patrol to the foot of a huge oak tree and instructed them to collect bundles of moss to soak in the lake. Berrynose couldn’t go on telling Icecloud what a fantastic warrior he was when his jaws were stuffed with fluffy green stalks.
When they reached the lake, Cloudtail paused briefly at the edge, gazing out across the lake bottom. It looked dry and powdery near the bank, with jagged cracks stretching across it; farther out it glistened in the pale light of dawn. As he tried to work out where the mud ended and the water began, Lionblaze spotted the tiny figures of four cats, far out across the mud. He set down his bundle of moss and tasted the air; the faint scent of RiverClan wafted toward him, mingled with the familiar stink of dead fish.
“Now listen,” Cloudtail began, setting down his own bundle. “RiverClan can’t object to us taking water, and Firestar has already said that he doesn’t want any fighting. Have you got that, Berrynose?” He gave the younger warrior a hard stare.
Reluctantly Berrynose nodded. “’Kay,” he mumbled around his mouthful of moss.
“Make sure you don’t forget.” With a final glare Cloudtail led his patrol out across the mud toward the distant lake.
The surface of the mud was hard at first, but as the patrol drew closer to the water Lionblaze found his paws sinking in at every step. “This is disgusting,” he muttered, his words muffled by the moss as he tried to shake off the sticky, pale brown blobs. “I’ll never get clean again.”
As they approached the water’s edge, he saw that the RiverClan cats had clustered together and were waiting for them, blocking their way: Reedwhisker and Graymist, with Otterheart and her apprentice, Sneezepaw. They all looked thin and exhausted, but their eyes glittered with hostility and their fur was bristling as if they would leap into battle for a couple of mousetails.
Reedwhisker stepped forward. “Have you forgotten what Leopa
rdstar told you at the Gathering last night?” he challenged. “The fish in the lake belong to RiverClan.”
“We’re not here to fish,” Cloudtail replied calmly, setting down his moss. “We only want water. You’re not going to deny us that, are you?”
“Are there no streams in your territory?” Graymist demanded.
“The streams have dried up, as you know very well.” Lionblaze saw the tip of Cloudtail’s tail twitch irritably as he answered; the fiery white warrior was finding it hard to control his temper. “We need water from the lake.”
“And we’ll take it whether you like it or not,” Berrynose added, dropping his moss and taking a threatening step forward.
Instantly the four RiverClan cats slid out their claws. “The lake belongs to us,” Otterheart hissed.
Blossompaw’s eyes stretched wide in dismay and Hazeltail stepped forward, thrusting her apprentice behind her. Lionblaze braced himself and unsheathed his claws, ready to spring.
Cloudtail whipped around to face his patrol. “Keep your jaws shut!” he ordered Berrynose.
“Are you going to let them talk to us like that?” Berrynose challenged. “I’m not scared of them, even if you are.”
Cloudtail stepped forward until he was nose to nose with the younger warrior, his eyes like chips of ice. “One more word and you’ll be searching the elders for ticks for the next moon. Understand?”
Lionblaze felt a tingle of shock run beneath his fur. Cloudtail was brisk at the best of times, but he’d never seen him this angry at one of his own Clanmates. It was as if collecting water was the most important thing in the world to Cloudtail—and maybe it was, with his Clan weakened by thirst and getting weaker. Lionblaze wondered what would happen if RiverClan succeeded in preventing the other Clans from getting near the water. Would three of the four Clans die out?
Not waiting for Berrynose’s response, Cloudtail swung around and addressed the RiverClan cats again. “I apologize for my warrior,” he meowed. His voice was tight; Lionblaze could tell what an effort he was making to stay polite. “I think he must have caught a touch of the sun. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d let us take some water.”
For a heartbeat Reedwhisker paused. Lionblaze felt his paws itch with the urge to spring into battle. Cloudtail had warned them that they were too weak to fight, but he didn’t know that Lionblaze was one of the Three and had the power to fight the fiercest battles without getting a single scratch. But I know we’ve got problems enough without fighting one another.
Finally Reedwhisker stepped back, gesturing with his tail for the rest of his patrol to do the same. “Take water, but no fish,” he growled.
We’re not here for fish. How many more times will we have to tell you that? Lionblaze thought.
“Thank you.” Cloudtail dipped his head and padded up to the water’s edge. Lionblaze followed, aware of the hostile gaze of the RiverClan cats boring into his back, watching his every move. His fury welled up again. This is just stupid! Do they think I can smuggle a fish out under my pelt?
He could see that his Clanmates were angry, too; Cloudtail’s tail-tip twitched and Berrynose’s eyes were blazing, though he had the sense to keep quiet. The she-cats’ fur was bristling, and they glared over their shoulders at the RiverClan cats as they padded past.
Lionblaze soaked his moss in the lake water and lapped up a few mouthfuls. It was warm and tasted of earth and weeds, hardly quenching his thirst. He forced himself to swallow, wincing as the gritty liquid slid down his throat. The sun had risen, its harsh rays slashing across the tops of the trees, and there was no sign of a cloud from one horizon to the other.
How much longer can we go on like this?
CHAPTER 2
Jayfeather picked through the herbs in the storage cave at the back of his den. The leaves and stems felt dry and crackly, and their scents were musty. I should be stocking up for leaf-fall, he thought. But how can I when there’s no fresh growth?
The pressure of being ThunderClan’s only medicine cat weighed like a stone in his belly. He remembered all the times he had grumbled about Leafpool telling him what to do. Now he wished that she had never resigned as a medicine cat and gone to live in the warriors’ den. What does it matter that she had kits? She still knows all about herbs, and what to do when a cat is injured.
His pelt prickled with the bitter memory of a few days ago, when Briarpaw had pelted into the camp and skidded to a halt in front of his den.
“Jayfeather!” she panted. “Come quick! Firestar’s hurt!”
“What? Where?”
“A fox got him!” The young apprentice’s voice was shaking with fear. “On the ShadowClan border, near the dead tree.”
“Okay, I’m coming.” Inwardly Jayfeather felt just as scared, but he forced himself to sound confident. “Go find Leafpool and tell her.”
Briarpaw let out a startled gasp, but Jayfeather didn’t pause to ask why. Grabbing a few stems of horsetail, he raced out through the thorn tunnel and headed for the ShadowClan border. Only when he was already on his way did he remember that Leafpool wasn’t a medicine cat any longer.
Before he reached the dead tree, the scent of blood led him to his leader. Firestar was lying on his side in a clump of ferns, his breath coming harsh and shallow. Sandstorm and Graystripe were crouched over him while Thornclaw kept watch from the top of a tree stump.
“Thank StarClan!” Sandstorm exclaimed as Jayfeather dashed up. “Firestar, Jayfeather’s here. Just hold on.”
“What happened?” Jayfeather asked, running his paws gently over Firestar’s side. His belly lurched as he discovered a long gash with blood still pulsing out of it.
“We were patrolling, and a fox leaped out at us,” Graystripe replied. “We chased it off, but…” His voice choked.
“Find some cobwebs,” Jayfeather ordered. He began to chew up the horsetail to make a poultice. Where’s Leafpool? he asked himself in agony. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.
He patted the poultice onto the gash in his leader’s side, binding it with the cobwebs that Graystripe thrust into his paws, but before he had finished he heard Firestar’s breathing grow slower and slower, until at last it stopped.
“He’s losing a life,” Sandstorm whispered.
Jayfeather went on numbly fixing the poultice in place, so that when Firestar recovered he wouldn’t lose any more blood. The time seemed to stretch out unnaturally, and Jayfeather’s mind whirled as he tried to count up how many lives his leader had left.
That wasn’t his last life, was it? It couldn’t be!
He had almost given up hope, when Firestar gave a cough, his breathing started up again, and he raised his head. “Thanks, Jayfeather,” he mewed weakly. “Don’t look so worried. I’ll be fine in a few heartbeats.”
But as Firestar set off back to camp, leaning on Graystripe’s shoulder, with Sandstorm padding along anxiously on his other side and Thornclaw bringing up the rear, Jayfeather hadn’t been able to forgive himself. I needed Leafpool, and she wasn’t here. His former mentor hadn’t appeared until they were within sight of the stone hollow. She had been hunting on the WindClan border, and it had taken Briarpaw all that time to find her.
“You did your best,” she reassured Jayfeather when he told her what had happened. “Sometimes that’s all you can do.”
But Jayfeather wasn’t convinced; he knew that Leafpool would have saved Firestar if she had been there.
My Clan leader lost a life because of me, he told himself bitterly. What sort of medicine cat does that make me?
Now he finished sorting through the herbs, picked up a mouthful of ragwort, and set off for the elders’ den. When he ducked under the outer boughs of the hazel bush, he found Mousefur curled up near the trunk, snoring gently, while Longtail and the old loner, Purdy, sat side by side in the shade of the rock wall.
“So this badger, see, was out lookin’ for trouble, an’ I tracked it—” Purdy broke off as Jayfeather entered the den. “Hello,
young ’un! What can we do for you?”
“Eat these herbs.” Jayfeather dropped the stems and divided them carefully into three. “It’s ragwort; it’ll keep your strength up.”
He heard Purdy’s wheezing breath as the old loner padded up and prodded the herbs with one paw. “That stuff? Looks funny to me.”
“Never mind what it looks like,” Jayfeather hissed through gritted teeth. “Just eat it. You too, Longtail.”
“Okay.” The blind elder padded across and licked up the herbs. “Come on, Purdy,” he mewed through the mouthful. “You know they’ll do you good.” His voice was hoarse, and his paw steps were unsteady. Every hair on Jayfeather’s pelt prickled with anxiety. The whole Clan was hungry and thirsty, but Longtail seemed to be suffering particularly badly. Jayfeather suspected he was giving his share of water and food to Mousefur.
If I can get Purdy on his own, I’ll ask him.
Purdy grunted disbelievingly, but Jayfeather heard him chewing up the ragwort. “Tastes foul,” the old loner complained.
Jayfeather picked up the remaining herbs and padded across to Mousefur. The elder was already waking up, roused by the sound of voices. “What do you want?” she demanded. “Can’t a cat get any sleep around here?”
She sounded as cranky as ever, which reassured Jayfeather that at least she was managing to cope with the heat. When Mousefur sounds nice and sweet, I’ll really start worrying!
“Ragwort,” he meowed. “You need to eat it.”
Mousefur let out a sigh. “I suppose you’ll nag me until I do. Well, while I’m eating it, you can tell me what went on at the Gathering last night.”
Jayfeather waited until he heard the old cat beginning to nibble on the herbs, then launched into an account of the previous night’s Gathering.
“What?” Mousefur choked on a ragwort leaf when Jayfeather came to the point where Leopardstar had laid claim to the lake and all the fish. “She can’t do that!”
Jayfeather shrugged. “She’s done it. She said that RiverClan deserves to have all the fish because they can’t eat any other sort of prey.”
