Night Whispers

“Get to your nest and stay there.” Jayfeather crossed the clearing, not waiting for the warrior to object. There was no time for argument. The infection was spreading. He’d moved Sandstorm to the medicine den. She couldn’t stay with Firestar. ThunderClan needed its leader to be healthy. Jayfeather sent a silent prayer to StarClan. Please don’t let Briarlight catch it.

“Jayfeather!” Poppyfrost’s mew sounded from the entrance to the nursery. As the warmth of the den surrounded him, tiny claws bit into his back.

“Get off him, Molekit!” Daisy’s stern mew sounded from her nest.

Molekit slid down Jayfeather’s back. “Just practicing my attack pounce!”

Poppyfrost bustled past Jayfeather. “Go and practice outside,” she told the young kit.

“Can Cherrykit come?” he mewed.

Jayfeather cuffed him gently with a soft paw. “Maybe later. I need to check her first.”

As Molekit tumbled out of the den, Poppyfrost put her mouth against Jayfeather’s ear. “She feels hot,” she murmured.

Jayfeather leaned into the nest and touched Cherrykit’s small muzzle with his own. “She is a bit warm.” He pressed an ear to her chest. “Her breathing is clear, though.”

“I feel fine,” Cherrykit squeaked. “Can I go and play with Molekit?”

“Does she need herbs?” Poppyfrost’s mew was tight with worry.

“Not yet.” Jayfeather wanted to preserve his small supply for as long as possible. “Send her out to play in the snow with Molekit.”

Poppyfrost gasped. “Outside?”

“The best thing you can do is to keep her cool,” Jayfeather advised. “The snow will do that as long as her breathing is clear.” He nosed Cherrykit out of the nest. “If you start to feel sick,” he told the kit, “come inside and rest.” He turned to Poppyfrost. “Call me if she starts to cough or wheeze.”

Jayfeather slid out of the nursery and headed back to his den to check on Sandstorm. “How are you?” he meowed as he leaned into the orange warrior’s makeshift nest.

“I’ve felt better,” Sandstorm admitted.

Jayfeather touched a pad to her ears, worried to find them hotter than ever. He turned away from the nest and began pulling herbs from his store. There must be more feverfew somewhere. His chest tightened as he felt the dried leaves and sniffed. Nothing good for coughs.

The brambles rustled, and a fresh tang filled the air. Yarrow?

“You forgot to bring these in.” Rosepetal’s muffled mew sounded at the den entrance. Leaves thumped gently on the floor. It is yarrow! Yarrow never survived the first frost.

Jayfeather hurried over to sniff the pile of leaves. “Where did you find these?” There might be other herbs nearby.

“They were lying outside the camp, near the thorns,” Rosepetal mewed. “I thought you’d dropped them.”

Jayfeather frowned. “Not me.”

“Well, someone did.” Rosepetal’s paw brushed the yarrow, and bitter scent drifted up. “Perhaps it was Leafpool,” she suggested.

“Maybe.” Leafpool had been scouring the forest for days. She was so tired that it was possible she had dropped some leaves and forgotten about them. “I’ll go thank her.” Jayfeather brushed past Rosepetal and pushed through the brambles.

Leafpool was tumbling with the kits outside the nursery. Her pelt smelled of the forest, but there was no scent of yarrow on her.

Jayfeather crossed the clearing. “Thanks!” he called.

Leafpool paused. “Thanks?”

“For the herbs.”

“What herbs?”

“The yarrow leaves,” Jayfeather explained. “Rosepetal found them outside the camp. We figured you’d picked them and dropped them there.”

“It wasn’t me.” Leafpool’s tail-tip brushed the snow as she walked toward him. “Maybe it was one of the other cats?”

Jayfeather twisted and called toward his den. “Rosepetal?”

The young cat came bounding out. “What?”

“Show me where you found the yarrow.”

He followed Rosepetal through the thorn barrier. “Here,” she announced, stopping in the narrow clearing outside, between the hollow and the trees.

Jayfeather sniffed the ground. No scent of any cat. Just yarrow and snow.

“Perhaps a warrior found leaves and hoped they’d be useful,” Rosepetal suggested. “They may have been on patrol and planned to tell you later.”

“Maybe.” Jayfeather shrugged. “If no one mentions it, I’ll ask Firestar to thank whoever found it at the next Clan meeting.” Pushing his curiosity aside, he headed back into the hollow.

“Jayfeather!”

Thornclaw’s yowl made him stop. “What is it?” Jayfeather tasted the air. “Mothwing, is that you?” Thornclaw and Spiderleg were accompanying the RiverClan medicine cat down the slope to the hollow.

“We found her by the shore,” Thornclaw reported. “She wants to speak with you.”

Mothwing snorted and broke away from her escort. “Thanks for your company,” she muttered. “I think I could have found my own way here.”

Spiderleg’s pelt sparked. “We were just trying to help.”

Jayfeather flicked his tail. “I’m sure she’s grateful.” He padded past the warrior, nudging Mothwing along with him. “Let’s go to the lake. My den is full.”

“Sickness?” Mothwing followed him up the slope.