Darkest Night

No cat died. Alderheart looked at the nest where Snowbush lay. Not yet, at least. The tom hadn’t moved since he’d collapsed into it. Alderheart and Jayfeather had bound his broken leg and eased honey and nettles into his mouth to fight the fever that had gripped him. Lilyheart had hardly left his side. She was with him now, resting her front paws on the side of his nest. Her eyes glittered with worry. Alderheart wished he could tell her that Snowbush would recover soon, but the infection was lingering, and he could tell from the quiet way Jayfeather moved around him that the blind medicine cat didn’t hold out much hope for the white tom.

As Sorrelstripe limped away, weariness dragged at Alderheart’s bones. He’d hardly slept since the rockslide. There were too many cats to take care of. The falling stones had left the whole Clan cut and bruised. Perhaps now, though, he could nap. The Gathering was tonight. He wanted to be alert. What if one of the leaders brought a clue about the six-toed cat? Or more evidence of the coming storm.

He reasoned with himself, looking at the blue sky, reflected in the still lake. The rain has stopped. He wanted to believe the worst was over. But until StarClan’s prophecy had been fulfilled and the six-toed cat had been found, how could there be anything but darkness waiting?

He crouched and rested his chin on his paws, allowing his eyes to close. Pebbles crunched as his Clanmates came and went around him. Fresh-kill scents drifted on the air. Eaglekit and Stemkit squeaked excitedly among the trees. We are still here. Alderheart comforted himself as sleep blurred the edges of his thoughts.

“Alderheart!” Lilyheart’s panicked mew jerked him awake.

He jumped to his paws as Lilyheart shook Snowbush. The white tom’s head lolled back, the whites of his eyes showing. Alderheart leaped across the pebbles and skidded to a halt beside the nest. “Jayfeather!” His wail echoed along the shore. Where had he gone?

He touched his paws to Snowbush’s chest. The white tom jerked suddenly beneath them. Heat burned through Alderheart’s pads. “We have to cool him down!” He ripped a wad of moss from the nest and shoved it toward Lilyheart. “Soak this in the lake and bring it back.” Lilyheart snatched it between her jaws and raced for the water’s edge.

Snowbush jerked again, flapping from one side of his nest to the other, his eyes staring blindly. Foam frothed at the corners of his mouth. “Help me hold him still,” Alderheart yowled desperately.

Poppyfrost leaped to help, throwing herself over Snowbush’s hind legs. Bumblestripe hurried to the nest and pushed his paws against Snowbush’s chest. Alderheart tried to hold Snowbush’s head still, but the tom was thrashing too wildly. His thoughts spun. Was there an herb that would stop this? He tried to think as Snowbush struggled in his paws. Had Jayfeather ever mentioned one?

“What’s wrong with him?” Poppyfrost wailed, her eyes glittering with fear.

“The fever.” Alderheart glanced at Snowbush’s broken leg, flailing while Poppyfrost tried to pin it down. Could Snowbush feel the pain? Was he aware of anything? Desperation showed in the tom’s frantic gaze. Spit dribbled from his mouth.

Suddenly, the tom fell still. Alderheart slumped with relief. The fit was over. Then he saw Snowbush’s eyes. They were dull. Grief stabbed Alderheart’s chest as he recognized death in them.

Pebbles swished as Lilyheart reached him. She dropped dripping moss beside the nest. “Is he okay now?” She gazed at Snowbush.

Alderheart dragged his gaze from the tom to the small, dark tabby she-cat. “He’s dead,” he croaked.

“Dead?” Lilyheart backed away. “But he survived the rockslide. His leg was broken, that was all.” She blinked in disbelief.

“We couldn’t cure the infection.” Alderheart gazed at her. He felt helpless. “It was inside. We couldn’t reach it.”

As he spoke, Jayfeather hurried toward him, weaving past Poppyfrost and Bumblestripe, who were staring in horror at Snowbush. The blind medicine cat reached the nest and touched his nose to Snowbush’s throat. With a sigh, he gently closed the tom’s eyes with his paw. “StarClan will protect him now.”

Lilyheart’s eyes flashed with anger. “Why didn’t they protect him before?”

Jayfeather bowed his head wordlessly.

Alderheart searched for something to say that might comfort the she-cat, but her question rang in his mind like the plaintive cry of an owl. Why didn’t they protect him before?

The journey to the island was slow. Alderheart’s paws felt as heavy as his heart. Back in the makeshift camp, Millie and Graystripe were sitting vigil, to be joined by the rest of the Clan when the Gathering was over. His Clanmates moved silently around him, as though drained of words by the horror of the past few days. Jayfeather had also stayed behind for the vigil.