Long Shadows

“Stupid furball!” Jaypaw hissed. “Which cats did we just fight? Barkface might give Leafpool catmint, but Onestar would have to know, and if he found out ThunderClan is weak, he’d attack again before you could say ‘mouse.’” Lashing his tail, he added, “It’s useless talking to you. I never thought my own brother would stand by and let his Clan die.” Spinning around, he stalked toward his den.

Lionblaze watched him go, then padded sadly back to the patrol by the fresh-kill pile. Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight had appeared, and Graystripe bounded up to choose a piece of fresh-kill and head for the medicine cats’ den.

“Take some for yourself as well,” Squirrelflight called after him, but Graystripe gave no sign that he’d heard her.

“Okay, Ashfur,” Brambleclaw meowed, “when you take your patrol out again, go along the ShadowClan border. You can combine the border patrol with some hunting. But when you get back, that’s it for today. You need to rest.”

“Take your own advice, then.” Squirrelflight gave her mate a flick on the shoulder with her tail. “You need to rest, too.”

“I can’t.” Lionblaze’s heart sank when he saw how bright

Brambleclaw’s eyes were, and heard the rasp in his voice. “I need to fix up more patrols.”

Sorreltail leaned in to Lionblaze and murmured in his ear, “If your father gets ill…”

Lionblaze nodded, but didn’t reply. There was no need.

With Firestar sick, ThunderClan depended on their deputy to protect them.

Oh, StarClan, Lionblaze thought, why are you letting this happen?

Gray clouds covered the sky, but the air was still mild; wind rustled through the trees above the hollow, but down below the cats were sheltered. Lionblaze had just returned from a hunting patrol with Brambleclaw, Hollyleaf, and Cinderheart.

Brackenfur and Sorreltail were sprawled near the fresh-kill pile, sharing tongues, while Sandstorm crouched beside them, eating a thrush.

As Lionblaze and the others dropped their prey on the pile, Leafpool and Jaypaw appeared to choose fresh-kill for themselves.

“How is Millie?” Sandstorm asked, looking up from her thrush.

“If she doesn’t get some catmint soon, she’ll die,” Leafpool meowed flatly.

Jaypaw shot a furious glare at Lionblaze as he snatched a mouse from the pile; Lionblaze felt it like a claw raking across his pelt. Stop blaming me! I can’t go to WindClan!

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the flicker of a flame-colored pelt up on the Highledge. Looking up, he saw that Firestar had appeared. Every hair on his pelt tingled with shock. What was the Clan leader doing out of his nest? He looked unsteady on his paws, and when he opened his jaws to speak all that came out was a cough.

“Firestar!” Sandstorm leaped to her feet. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Go back to your nest right now!” Leafpool sprang up and raced for the rocks, closely followed by Sandstorm.

Firestar stretched out a paw to halt them. “Don’t come any closer,” he rasped. “The sickness spreads too easily. We have to get the sick cats out of the camp to keep the others healthy.”

“But we can’t do that,” Leafpool objected, halting at the foot of the tumbled rocks. “There’s nowhere for them to go.”

“Yes, there is,” Firestar told her, his too-bright eyes shining with triumph. “The old Twoleg nest has walls and a roof to shelter us, and there’s a stream nearby where we can drink.”

“But I can’t be in two places at once,” Leafpool pointed out; she sounded anguished, as if she hated to refuse the hope that Firestar offered.

“You won’t need to be,” Firestar meowed. “I shall look after the sick cats. You can tell me which herbs to use, and keep me supplied without coming too close.”

Sandstorm let out a gusty sigh, fluttering her whiskers.

“This is ridiculous! You’re putting yourself in danger. You need rest just as much as the other sick cats.”

Firestar looked down at her, love glowing from his green eyes. “I have lives to lose; my Clanmates do not. I have to do this, for their sake.”

Murmurs of surprise came from the cats gathered around the fresh-kill pile. Brambleclaw looked up at his leader, then slowly nodded, as if he was making a promise.

“It might work,” Brackenfur remarked.

“I think it’s worth a try,” Cinderheart agreed. “If we don’t do something, every cat will get sick.”

The more Lionblaze thought about Firestar’s suggestion, the more sense he could see in it. The sick cats would have a safe, dry place to stay, and those who were left could look after them better. Leafpool and Jaypaw would have more chance of keeping well. And maybe Jaypaw’s catmint plants at the Twoleg nest would have grown enough to provide some healing leaves.

“There aren’t enough yet,” Jaypaw growled as if Lionblaze had spoken aloud. “We need more! Half the Clan is sick.”

Lionblaze felt as if his littermate’s glare was scorching his pelt. Turning away, he padded over to Hollyleaf.