Veil Of Shadows

I wonder how those two are getting along, Bristlefrost wondered, briefly amused in spite of the tension around her. I’d like to be a fly on the wall of that den!

“We’ll both look after you when it’s done, Squirrelflight,” Mothwing continued. “There’s no need to worry.”

“I’m not,” Squirrelflight responded. “I’m just so grateful to you, Mothwing. Can you get what you need right now? And then we’ll head for the Twolegplace.”

I sure hope this works, Bristlefrost thought. Or things will be even worse than they are now!

“It’s this way,” Bristlefrost meowed.

Sunhigh was long past, and the rain had ended when Bristlefrost led Bramblestar to the spot near the Twolegplace where she and Mothwing had helped Squirrelflight arrange the evidence of her “death” one day earlier. Emerging from the trees, she halted beside a Thunderpath. Clumps of grass near the edge were soaked with blood, while strewn on the hard, black surface were several tufts of Squirrelflight’s fur and a single claw. The stench of blood filled the air. She realized now that the blood might smell too fresh, the fur seem too carefully arranged. But there was nothing she could do about it now. She didn’t dare put him off any longer, so they’d had to hurry to set the scene. But she knew if he caught on to the truth, it would mean her life.

Oh, StarClan, let him believe me! Bristlefrost prayed, fighting to hide her fear as the false Bramblestar padded up to join her.

His amber eyes widened as he saw the blood and fur, and then, to Bristlefrost’s astonishment, his face contorted in what looked like real grief. Hunching his shoulders, he bowed his head and flattened his ears. For a few heartbeats he seemed unable to speak.

“She’s dead . . . and I killed her,” he choked out at last.

Chapter 10

“It just set in overnight,” Spiresight explained.

Shadowsight shuddered as he crouched in spirit form once again, looking down at his broken body still sprawled in the ravine. Where his fur was torn away he could see that his wounds were red and swollen. In his next breath he took in the sweetish smell of infection, almost gagging as it hit him in the throat. Yet he couldn’t feel a thing. Normally, that would be a blessing, but right then, being able to feel pain might have helped him figure out what was wrong and how to fix it.

“My Clan thinks I’m dead,” he murmured. “And soon they may be right.” He knew that he would never heal on his own now that his wounds were festering.

Since he first awoke and saw Spiresight, Shadowsight had spent some time observing the other Clans, trying to find some kind of clue as to who had attacked him. It had been interesting to visit other camps, especially ThunderClan’s, where the tension was so thick, he could almost see it. But although it had been fun at first to eavesdrop on private conversations and see cats that he cared about, it soon grew frustrating that he couldn’t communicate with any of them. He didn’t know how Spiresight had done it for so long. Maybe the pull toward the living was not as strong when a cat was truly dead. But if the yearning was even half as strong as what he felt now, he wanted no part of it.

Plus, being a ghost had its limitations. He couldn’t taste scents on the air or feel the breeze rustling through his pelt. It was disorienting. And for all his efforts, and Spiresight’s, they hadn’t learned anything.

“We can’t just go on investigating,” he told Spiresight. “I need my wounds cleaned, and poultices of the right herbs, and the bleeding stopped with cobwebs. Even that might not be enough to cure the infection—but it’s certainly more than a ghost can handle!”

“But who can we tell?” Spiresight asked. He was standing beside Shadowsight, his eyes filled with anguish as he gazed down at his friend’s unmoving body. “We don’t know which cat we can trust.”

“Maybe not, but I know that no cat in ShadowClan would ever hurt me. And I need a medicine cat’s help if I’m going to survive. We need to get Puddleshine.”

Spiresight looked skeptical. “Isn’t Puddleshine one of the cats who was with you the night you were attacked?” Spiresight asked.

Shadowsight nodded.

“He didn’t keep up with you when you searched for the injured cat,” the ghost cat continued. “That gave your attacker time to strike. And Puddleshine chose to stop searching for you and head on to the Moonpool.”

“What are you trying to say?” Shadowsight asked, afraid that he already knew the answer.

“Are you sure Puddleshine wasn’t involved?”

“Of course I am!” Shadowsight retorted. “Puddleshine was my mentor, and he’s one of the most dedicated medicine cats I know. He would never cause harm to any cat, let alone me.”