Night Whispers

Rowanclaw stepped closer to the border. “You can have her back,” he growled, “in exchange for catmint.”

Dovepaw looked sharply at Tigerheart. His face betrayed nothing. Only yesterday he was worried sick about Littlecloud, and now Ivypaw was being offered in exchange for exactly the herb needed to save the ShadowClan medicine cat? He must have told his Clanmates about the herb patches. How could he?

Pain seared Dovepaw’s heart. He doesn’t really love me! He was just using me, and now he’s using Ivypaw! Dovepaw froze. Wouldn’t she do the same for her Clan? Would her loyalty lie with Tigerheart or ThunderClan?

“Catmint?” Brambleclaw echoed.

“Littlecloud’s sick with greencough,” Rowanclaw told him. “He needs catmint to survive.”

Brambleclaw looked puzzled. “Why ask like this?”

“We don’t want to harm Ivypaw,” Rowanclaw meowed. The meaning in his words was clear. “We just need catmint.”

Brambleclaw tensed, and Dovepaw guessed he was forcing himself not to react to the implied threat. Instead he nodded. “I’ll tell Firestar.” He signaled to his Clanmates with his tail and headed back toward camp.

“Why didn’t Flametail just ask Jayfeather?” Firestar stared in bewilderment at his deputy as Brambleclaw reported Rowanclaw’s demand. “We’ve always helped other Clans in the past.”

Beside him, in the clearing, Graystripe curled his lip. “And we’ve been criticized for helping,” he growled.

Jayfeather stood at the entrance to the medicine den. Dovepaw could see his claws digging into the snow.

Leafpool, watching with Squirrelflight from the halfrock, looked grief-stricken. “How sick is Littlecloud?”

Brambleclaw narrowed his eyes. “Sick enough to hold an apprentice hostage.”

“I’ll go and pick the herbs,” Jayfeather muttered.

“Thank you.” Firestar nodded. “I know herbs are scarce, but Littlecloud needs them.”

Squirrelflight stepped forward. “What about Sandstorm?”

“And Cherrykit!” Daisy trotted across the clearing with her fluffy cream-colored tail held high. “She’s no better today.”

Firestar dipped his head. “We will try to see to the needs of everyone,” he meowed. “But Littlecloud and Ivypaw are in the gravest danger. We must help them first.”

Poppyfrost’s face appeared in the nursery entrance. Her eyes were round with worry. Firestar’s gaze rested on her for a moment before he turned back to Brambleclaw. “Perhaps the cat who found the yarrow can find more herbs,” he murmured.

Dovepaw wanted to creep into her nest and hide. What if Sandstorm or Cherrykit got worse? What if they died? This is all my fault!

Chapter 21

A shriveled mouse thudded in front of Ivypaw. “Eat this.”

She looked up at the dark tabby ShadowClan warrior who’d thrown it, and sniffed. “Thanks.”

The warrior stalked away, around the bramble screen that half hid Ivypaw’s corner of the ShadowClan camp.

“I don’t know why they’re giving you food.” Starlingpaw scowled at her. “You were trying to steal ours.”

Ivypaw leveled a scornful look at the young ShadowClan tom who’d been ordered to guard her. “I crossed the border by mistake.”

“Yeah, right.” Starlingpaw turned away and resumed his watch.

Ivypaw rolled her eyes. Anyone would think he was guarding a LionClan warrior. “What exactly do you think I’m going to do? Attack the warriors’ den and take over the camp?”

Starlingpaw glanced at her. “Who knows what you’re planning? ThunderClan cats are known for being sneaky.”

“ThunderClan? Sneaky?” Ivypaw couldn’t believe her ears. ShadowClan cats were the sneakiest cats in the forest. She snorted. I give up. She wasn’t going to waste time talking to this mouse-brain. She settled onto her belly and began eating the mouse. As she gnawed at the stringy meat, she peered around the edge of the bramble, past Starlingpaw’s tail, and watched the ShadowClan camp begin to stir.

Two kits tumbled out of a small hole in the bramble wall. “Come on, Dewkit!” The bigger kit—a tabby tom—crouched down, waggling his tail.

“What?” His littermate—a gray she-kit—stared at him.

The tabby dashed across the clearing. “Race you to the dirtplace!”

“That’s cheating, Sparrowkit!” Dewkit pelted after him.

A third kit fell out of the brambles. “Wait for me!” She landed and stared after them, eyes wide.

“Don’t worry, Mistkit.” A tabby queen slid out behind her. “We’ll catch up to them together.” She headed after them, Mistkit trotting at her side. The kit’s pale gray pelt was as spiky as a pinecone. When they reached the far end of the clearing, they ducked into a tunnel and disappeared from view.

Cedarheart, the graying elder, stretched outside his den. Tallpoppy squeezed out from the brambles behind him and yawned. She looked at the gray sky. “Looks like more snow’s coming.”

Cedarheart shivered. “We’ll be eating snow before long.”