Thunder And Shadow

Alderpaw frowned. Surely Onestar’s Clan knew. They must count each passing life. And y et a casual observer could never know how many lives a leader had left. Alderpaw searched the leader’s gaze, wondering what he would see.

Onestar lifted his chin, his gaze m urderous. Staring between the trees, he flattened his ears.

“Where have the rogues gone?”

“Away,” Bramblestar told him. “For now.”

“We must follow them.”

Bramblestar’s gaze flicked around the WindClan cats. “Furzepelt is dead,” he told Onestar softly. “Oatclaw and Emberfoot are injured. Come back to our camp, where Jayfeather and Alderpaw can treat their wounds properly.”

Onestar glanced back toward the edge of the trees, as though he hadn’t heard the ThunderClan leader. “We should go home.”

“Oatclaw and Emberfoot are in no state to travel that far right now,” Jayfeather put in.

Onestar narrowed his eyes, glancing at the injured warriors. Oatclaw was leaning against

Birchfall, blood welling on his flank. Emberfoot was staring at their fallen Clanmate, his eyes shim m ering with grief. “What about Furzepelt’s body?”

Alderpaw was surprised to see coldness in the WindClan leader’s gaze. Had losing a life robbed him of feelings? Perhaps he was num b with shock.

Bramblestar nodded to Cloudtail. “You and Rosepetal, sit with her. Make sure nothing disturbs her body until a patrol can fetch her.” He turned to Onestar, softening his mew. “Come home with us. We can take care of y ou.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Onestar snapped.

Jayfeather snorted. “If Oatclaw doesn’t bleed to death first.”

The WindClan leader looked to where the m oor rose toward a darkening sky. A storm was m oving in. He nodded briefly. “Very well.”

“Chew up more horsetail and m arigold,” Jayfeather ordered.

Alderpaw was helping treat the injured WindClan cats in the shelter of the medicine den while the rain thrum m ed outside. He’d already m ade enough pulp to put on Oatclaw’s and Emberfoot’s wounds, and his Clanmates’ scratches, and his tongue was num b from the herbs. He wished Leafpool were here to help. Should someone warn her that dangerous rogues are in the forest?

Alderpaw had seen Darktail kill the only Sky Clan cat he’d found near the gorge. Now he’d brought his rogues here and had killed again. We have a mission here, and we know more about your so-called Clans than you think. He remembered Darktail’s words with a shudder. What in StarClan did they want? “They are so vicious,” he m uttered to him self.

Jayfeather’s ears twitched. “I haven’t seen cats like them since the Dark Forest.”

Alderpaw blinked at the medicine cat. Every kit had heard nursery tales about the Dark Forest.

His father and many of his Clanmates had fought in a battle against the evil cats who lurked there.

“Do you think that’s where they’re from?” he asked.

Jayfeather shook his head. “No. Only Clan cats find their way to the Place of No Stars, and these rogues have clearly never belonged to any Clan.”

Oatclaw was sleeping now, in a makeshift nest beside Briarlight’s, drowsy from the poppy seeds Jayfeather had given him. Emberfoot moaned softly as Jayfeather licked pulp into his wound.

Sparkpaw pushed through the trailing brambles. Her rain-soaked pelt dripped water onto the medicine-den floor. “Are they hungry?” She glanced at Oatclaw and lowered her voice. “The hunting patrol is back. There’s plenty of prey on the fresh-kill pile.”

“I want to make sure there’s no infection in these wounds before they eat,” Jayfeather told her.

“Those rogues sound hateful,” Sparkpaw com m ented. “The whole Clan is talking about them.”

Alderpaw glanced at her. Should he tell her they were the sam e rogues who’d driven Sky Clan from their home? That they might have followed them back to the lake? No. He must say nothing to Sparkpaw y et. He needed to tell Bramblestar first. He wondered if his father had already guessed where the rogues had come from. After all, it had only been a few day s since

Squirrelflight had reported that they had abandoned the gorge. Alderpaw had never im agined they’d show up by the lake. He spat the herbs he’d been chewing onto a waxy leaf and carried it to Jayfeather. “Can Sparkpaw help you for a bit?”

Jayfeather stared at him, eyes narrowed, but said nothing.

Sparkpaw sniffed. “I’m not a medicine cat.”

“You can chew, can’t y ou?” Jayfeather grunted.

“I guess.” Sparkpaw looked bem used.

“So I can go?” Alderpaw stared at Jayfeather. “It’s im portant. I won’t be long. I need to speak to Bramblestar.”

“What about?” Sparkpaw pricked her ears.

Alderpaw ignored her and kept his gaze fixed on Jayfeather.

Jayfeather nodded. “Don’t be long.”

“But if it’s som ething im portant, I want to know,” Sparkpaw fluffed out her wet fur.

Jayfeather pawed a pile of m arigold leaves toward her. “When y ou’re Clan leader, you can be the first to hear every thing. Until then, you can help by chewing these leaves.”