Pineclaw's Prophecy

A FanFiction

CHAPTER ONE

Maplekit opened her eyes and looked up at the two big cats looming over her. She looked at Thornflower. “Do I have amber eyes like you?” she asked. “No, right now your eyes are blue. When you get older you can find out what color they really are,” Thornflower mewed. “Bramblekit’s eyes are blue, too. Does that mean he’ll have the same color eyes as me?” Thornflower purred. “No, all kits have blue eyes when they are born.” Bramblekit looked up. “What color eyes will I have?” “I don’t know. We will have to find out,” Thornflower replied.

The kits stumbled around on their paws. “Tag! You’re it, Maplekit!” Maplekit whipped around and swatted Bramblekit with her front paw. “Now you’re it!” she squealed. Bramblekit scowled but continued to chase his sister around the clearing. He pounced on her, pinning her down to the ground. “That’s not fair! You’re cheating!” Maplekit mewed. “Am not,” Bramblekit retorted.

“Are too,” Maplekit argued back.

“Am not!” Bramblekit got off of Maplekit. She sprang to her paws, fur bristling.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” Maplekit grumbled and turned away. “Maplekit! Bramblekit! Stop straying away from the nursery and get back here.”

“When will he open his eyes? Maplekit and Bramblekit have had theirs open for a while,” “In time Brindleclaw, in time.” Thornflower’s soft voice calmed the anxious tom waiting for his son’s eyes to open. “As soon as Pinekit opens his eyes, I want to play tag with him!” Bramblekit squeaked in delight. Then he glared at Maplekit. “Because someone won’t,” he added under his breath. “I don’t think so,” Thornflower said firmly. “Aw, just one round!” “No, maybe tomorrow when he’s stronger.” Maplekit sighed and licked her tan paw with a few strokes then flattened her poofy fur. Bramblekit swished his dark tabby tail but remained silent. “Look! He opened his eyes!” Thornflower purred in delight. Brindleclaw, feeling satisfied, turned and left. A few moments later, Weaselpaw, Nightpaw and Barkpaw stumbled in, purring and meowing. “We heard all the new kits have opened their eyes!” “Yes, they have,” Thornflower mewed quietly, and then signaled to Oneflower, who was sleeping soundly on the other side of the den. “Oh, sorry. We’d better go now.”

The kits squealed with delight as the moss ball flew over their heads. Bramblekit zoomed after it, crashing into a bush. “Take that, and that, you ShadowClan warrior!” Maplekit swatted playfully at Pinekit. She stumbled and knocked her brother off of his paws. “You got me!” he squeaked, then slowly stood. “You haven’t seen the last of me, ThunderClan,” he mewed menacingly and ran away, turning to see Maplekit gloating. Bramblekit raced across the clearing and hit the ball of moss. It flew up, and Maplekit watched in awe as it hit the ground. “Let me try!” she exclaimed, and shouldered past Bramblekit. She swatted the moss and Pinekit jumped up to hit it back. Bramblekit rolled it back to Maplekit and she hit it again. It soared above them and crashed- right into Morningstar.

The ThunderClan leader rounded and approached the kits. She glared angrily at them. “Why did that come even close to me?” Morningstar asked, her fierce gaze darting between the frightened kits. Poppypool stepped out of the nursery. “Morningstar, they are just kits. I promise next time I will keep a better eye on them.” Morningstar grumbled but padded away. “Be careful,” Thornflower scolded her kits. “We will,” Maplekit mewed. “You’d better,” Thornflower meowed, and brought them back to her nest.

Maplekit yawned. “I think you three should take a nap,” Thornflower meowed. “But I’m not tired,” Pinekit squeaked, stifling a yawn as well as Bramblekit. “I want to play tag,” Bramblekit mewed. “You’ve caused enough trouble already. You are staying in the nursery for the rest of the day,” Thornflower meowed sternly. “That’ll be ages!” complained Maplekit as she settled down in Thornflower’s nest. Pinekit was fast asleep and even Bramblekit was beginning to calm down. Within minutes, they were all sleeping peacefully.

Three or four moons had passed since Pinekit had opened his eyes. He spent a lot of time chatting with Fernpelt in the medicine den. The young medicine cat was more than happy to share her interest in medicine with some cat, even if it was a kit. “Since Dawnstripe has a fever, what would you give her to lower it?” Fernpelt looked at Pinekit and waited for his answer. “Feverfew, or lavender or borage leaves if I’m all out,” he replied. “Very good! Here’s some feverfew for Dawnstripe. Tell her to eat a few of the leaves,” Fernpelt dabbed at the poppy seeds, then gathered some cobweb. She grabbed some goldenrod stems in her jaws and carefully chewed them into a poultice before spitting it out onto a leaf. “Okay,” Pinekit mewed cheerily, and then he scampered over to the sick cat in the corner.

Fernpelt padded into the elders’ den. “Now, Bigbelly, it’s only been a quarter moon since you became an elder and you already got bored and wandered off!” She purred softly. “What exactly were you doing that got you this nasty wound?” The large tom sniffed his injured leg. “I had a fight with a narrow space in a thorn bush,” Bigbelly’s deep meow filled the den. Fernpelt gave him the poppy seeds. “Eat these,” she instructed. Then she applied the goldenrod poultice to the wound before spreading the cobwebs over it. “Leave it on,” Fernpelt mewed sternly. “I have some ticks that you should get Weaselpaw to look at,” a hoarse voice spoke up from the other side of Bigbelly. “I’ll make sure he does, Moonheart.”

“Thank you, Pinekit, for healing me so well,” Dawnstripe touched the tip of her tail to Pinekit’s shoulder. “You’re welcome,” he squeaked, then looked up at Fernpelt. “Is this what it feels like to heal?” “Yes, it is. And I think you would make a wonderful apprentice. You know all the herbs and are very gentle with all the cats,” she looked down at him. Pinekit was beaming with pride. He pranced off into the clearing to tell Maplekit what Fernpelt had said.

“Ughhhh,” Weaselpaw moaned as he dabbed the bile-soaked moss at Moonheart’s ticks. “Stop complaining.” Her voice was cracked with age. Weaselpaw dropped the mouse bile moss as the last tick dropped off. “I hope you’re happy,” he grumbled. “I am, thank you very much,” Moonheart retorted. Weaselpaw went to wash his paws in the stream. Nightpaw was up there, getting water for the kits and queens. “Tick duty again, I suppose,” she mewed. “Yeah, Moonheart, too,” he replied. They walked back to camp together. Weaselpaw grabbed a thrush and settled down to eat his meal when a loud yowl sounded just outside the camp. “ShadowClan is moving the border!”

Morningstar rushed out of her den. “Stumblefoot, Missingear, Squirreltail and Weaselpaw! Approach from the left! Hazelpaw, Dawnstripe and Nightpaw! Flank the right! Barkpaw, Cedarpaw, and Moontail, attack head on! I’ll join you, Dawnstripe. Move out!” Meadowflower let out a yowl of protest. “Let me come!” she called after Morningstar. “No! Your kits are due too soon for you to go into battle,” she yowled behind her as she led the cats out of the thorn tunnel. The scent of blood filled Weaselpaw’s nostrils. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. His first real battle! He was almost too preoccupied to see Blackstorm racing toward him.

Thinking fast, Weaselpaw leapt onto Blackstorm’s back. Blackstorm easily threw him off and rounded. The black ShadowClan warrior ran at him but Weaselpaw dove under him, knocking Blackstorm off his paws. “How dare you even attempt to take ThunderClan’s territory?” Weaselpaw snarled at the cat lying on the ground. He jumped to his paws. “When we win this battle, we will have ThunderClan’s territory. All of it!” Blackstorm lunged but Weaselpaw sidestepped and attacked from the side. He bit down hard into the black tom’s ear and sank his claws into an inch of matted fur before reaching Blackstorm’s delicate skin. He yowled and shook Weaselpaw hard. He felt his grip begin to loosen and prayed to StarClan that some miracle would happen. And one did. Cedarpaw ran out of the trees and slashed at Blackstorm’s muzzle. The two together easily cornered him. “Beat it, fox dung,” Cedarpaw spat, sounding five times more menacing than Weaselpaw. She bit the base of Blackstorm’s tail as he raced into the bushes.

The battle still raged around them. Morningstar bit into Hawkstorm’s leg and the ginger brown tom yowled in pain. Moontail was pinned down by a white she-cat with a blood stained pelt. Whitetail and Wolfheart chased a she-cat into the trees and turned to face three powerful toms. Cedarpaw ran to help Moontail and Weaselpaw sprinted over to Wolfheart and Whitetail.

The largest of the three toms was dark gray and the other two were a misty silver color. One had lost an eye in a previous battle and now had a nasty scar. The large tom sprung at Wolfheart. Weaselpaw sank his teeth into his hind leg. The stormy gray warrior tried desperately to shake him off but Weaselpaw kept a firm grip. His teeth scraped bone and he heard a sickening crack. Despite his broken leg, the huge ShadowClan cat darted into the forest. The other cats were too scared to even fight the trio of cats, but Whitetail pinned the scarred one down anyway. “So, Scarface, if that is your name, what will you do next time foolish Owlstar decides to move the border?” Whitetail hissed in the warrior’s face. The cat wriggled free and followed his brother into the trees.

The battle had died down. A few wounded cats lay in the clearing, none of them ThunderClan. A scraggly brown cat hissed wildly at nothing in particular until a larger warrior grabbed him by the scruff and dragged him away. Cats from both sides limped away, but it was obvious ThunderClan had won. The brown cat ran back into the clearing and pounced on one of his wounded Clanmates, yowling. The same large cat ran to fetch him and mumbled unintelligibly. One last cat straggled out of battle and the fight was over.

The cats from the battle staggered into camp, wounded and bloodied. Fernpelt ran out of the medicine den, Pinekit stumbling after her. “Pinekit, fetch as many cobwebs as you can. And burdock root, and goldenrod, and poppy seed… Just get whatever you think I’ll need,” He ran to get his siblings. “Maplekit, Bramblekit, the cats are back from the battle at ShadowClan! I need your help bringing herbs to Fernpelt!” They followed him into the medicine den. “Maplekit, get burdock root, chervil and cobweb. Bramblekit, get some comfrey, dock and goldenrod. I’ll get the marigold, poppy seeds and some thyme. They’ll need that,” the kits rushed out and dropped the herbs they were carrying. “Leave the rest to Fernpelt,” Pinekit told Maplekit and Bramblekit.

“Wow Pinekit, you really know your herbs! I thought I was going to have to go back there to tell you what to get, but this is amazing!” Pinekit picked up some marigold, chewed it into a poultice and began to work quickly. Fernpelt watched in amazement as he quickly treated two, three, four cats! And he kept going. “You keep working. I’d like to speak to Morningstar.” She trotted off as Pinekit flicked his tail to acknowledge that he had heard.

“Morningstar, we have an extremely talented cat on our paws. Pinekit knows every herb, what it’s for and how to use it. When he helps me in my den, he’s gentle with the sick and injured and can handle seeing others in pain. I would like your permission to apprentice him early,” Fernpelt finished. Morningstar looked up. “And this kit wants to be a medicine cat?” Fernpelt glanced at Pinekit. He was treating his ninth or tenth cat now. “Well, I’m pretty sure he-” Morningstar cut her off. “I will not give you permission unless you know for sure. I will give you until the night before your visit to the Moonpool- that gives you two sunsets. If you don’t have an answer by then, I will decline your request.” Fernpelt nodded, and headed toward Pinekit.

“I would love to be your apprentice!” Pinekit couldn’t have been happier at the offer. The injured cats had been treated and as the day came to a close, Fernpelt had called Pinekit to her den to ask him his consent about becoming a medicine cat apprentice. “You are very talented and I have waited moons to ask you!” Fernpelt, unable to contain her joy, excused herself from the den and went to visit Morningstar.

“He said yes?” Morningstar seemed rather surprised. She must have thought that all kits wanted to be strong warriors. “He did.” Fernpelt swished her tail excitedly. “Okay. His ceremony will be held at the Moonpool next time the medicine cats meet there.” Fernpelt stood and paced in circles before shooting out of Morningstar’s den.

“Pinekit, you will become my apprentice in two moonrises,” Fernpelt searched his amber eyes for excitement but instead found fear and shock. “But I’m only four moons old! Isn’t that against the warrior code?” “I spoke to Morningstar and she approved my decision to apprentice you early,” Fernpelt began to feel that her plan wouldn’t work after all. “Okay,” he mewed, and padded over to the nursery.

Pinekit carefully picked his way down to the Moonpool. It shone like the stars and he could see the outline of many cats on the stone walls that sloped up around him. Pinekit ran over to Fernpelt. “Fernpelt, I see…” A hushed whisper came from the other side of the Moonpool. “Do not be afraid. We are the cats of StarClan.” A white she-cat with stars in her fur nodded to Pinekit and he settled down by the waters’ edge. “I know,” Fernpelt mewed. “You see many shining cats looking down on you. That is what I saw at my apprentice ceremony.” Pinekit looked around at the other medicine cats. They were standing, looking at him and Fernpelt. “It is time,” Fernpelt meowed.

“Pinekit, is it your wish to enter into the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?” Fernpelt’s voice ran smoothly as she spoke the words that were once repeated to her. “It is,” Pinekit mewed respectfully. He was surprised at how strong his voice sounded. He expected his mew to be hesitant and shaky but now he felt as if this was his destiny. “Then come forward.” Pinekit stepped toward Fernpelt. “Warriors of StarClan, I present to you this apprentice. He has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant him your wisdom and insight so that he may understand your ways and heal his Clan in accordance to your will. Now lay down next to the pool.” He did and copied what the other cats were doing. He touched his nose to the surface of the pool. He felt his muscles tense and cold shot through his body. He began to lose consciousness.

"Pinepaw! Pinepaw!" A soft voice called his name. He looked around, yet could not find where it was coming from. He was in unfamiliar forests. Dismayed, he replied. "Yes?" A starry cat stepped out of the shadows. He was suddenly aware of dozens and dozens of eyes staring at him. "I am Featherwhisker of StarClan, formally a ShadowClan medicine cat." She bowed her head. "Be careful when you step into our realm. It may be hard to come back out," Featherwhisker rasped the words slowly into his ear. "Why?" he asked, suddenly shaky. "Beware.... Beware......" her voice drifted away as she faded into the mist. "Featherwhisker! Come back!" But she was already gone; her scent lingered a few heartbeats more.

He woke with a start. Fernpelt was still frozen by the side of the pool and a few of the other medicine cats were waking up. ''My name must be Pinepaw now! ''He thought excitedly. He paced back and forth until another medicine cat padded up to him. “Hi, I’m Breezetail, the ShadowClan medicine cat. The tom over there is Spottedcloud and the she-cat over there is Flowerheart.” Spottedcloud waved his tail in greeting. Flowerheart was still lost in her dreams of StarClan. Fernpelt woke beside him. “How does it feel to be a medicine cat, Pinepaw?” she mewed, stretching out her limbs one by one. He purred and followed her back to camp.

A few sunsets later, Pinepaw was woken up from a dream. "Pinepaw, are you there?" A familiar mew sounded not more than a few fox-lengths away. "Featherwhisker?" he murmured, and blinked open his eyes to see Maplekit standing in front of him, her tan fur giving off a silver tint in the moonlight. "What?" Pinepaw asked in an irritable voice. "Let me sleep," he mumbled and curled up again, his back to Maplekit. "My belly hurts," she mewed. Pinepaw shot straight up into a sitting position. Nightpaw, Weaselpaw and Squirreltail were all complaining of the same thing. Squirreltail was terribly ill; it seemed worse than greencough.

"Fernpelt, hurry! Maplekit has fallen ill!" The gray cat that rushed out of the medicine den oddly reminded Pinepaw of Featherwhisker. "Get her into the den and give her herbs to prevent it from getting worse," Fernpelt's eyes shone with fear. Pinepaw stood there gaping at her as a thought crept into his mind. Fernpelt turned to look at him as she escorted Maplekit away. "What are you doing, standing there? Of all cats, your kin has fallen ill against an unknown sickness we can't treat! Stop staring at me like-" she stopped as Maplekit vomited. Pinepaw heard a screech from the nursery. Meadowflower! Pinepaw had almost forgotten that her kits were due any day. Brindleclaw limped from the warriors' den. Before he could get a few tail-lengths from the entrance, he vomited. A deafening yowl rang throughout the camp. Why did Meadowflower have to kit now, when illness was spreading through the Clan?

Pinepaw looked around at the number of cats gathered in the medicine den. Nightpaw, Weaselpaw, Squirreltail, Maplekit and Brindleclaw lay in close quarters. Pinepaw realized he should move the cats outside. It was a hot summer night and there was no reason why they couldn't be out there. As soon as they were moved, another ear-splitting yowl pierced the night air. Pinepaw sighed and readied himself to hear Fernpelt's call to him for herbs. Sure enough, a voice called his name. But it was not the young medicine cat. It was Morningstar.

As morning approached, Fernpelt returned from the nursery. "Three healthy kits: Redkit, Smokekit and Lionkit." She announced. Pinepaw sighed, but gasped with shock when Fernpelt coughed. She told him she was fine and surveyed the camp. Vomit lay all over the ground and the camp reeked. But the most frightening sight was the amount of cats ill. "What?" screeched Fernpelt, and then coughed so hard she was left shaking. "Morningstar is ill?" she asked with shock, and stumbled a bit. Pinepaw nodded gravely. "I- I feel dizzy," Fernpelt's voice was shaky and sounded cracked, as if her throat had suddenly dried up. She tripped over her own paws, tumbling to the ground. A frightened mew escaped her mouth before she fainted.

Pinepaw stared in horror at his mentor. "Fernpelt!" he shrieked. Dawnstripe approached him. "What seems to be the problem?" Worry could be heard twisting in her mew. Pinepaw, at a loss for words, motioned to the mess that lay about and flicked his tail toward the nursery. Dawnstripe sighed and asked, mostly to herself, "Who will represent us at the Gathering tonight?" Pinepaw stiffened. He had forgotten all about the fast approaching Gathering. "I will," a firm voice spoke from behind. It was Whitetail, looking as proud and determined as if he was Clan leader. "As deputy, I must take over for the leader when she is ill or injured," he slowly climbed up Highledge. "And some day, it will be me rightfully leading the Clan!" His sudden outburst of power frightened his apprentice, Weaselpaw. Did he have hidden ambitions? Was Whitetail not the cat he had thought he was? Weaselpaw shook his head. Any cat would have done the same given the chance. He tensed as cats left for hunting patrols, directed by Whitetail. Weaselpaw bounded over to his mentor.

"Whitetail! Can we go hunting, too?" Weaselpaw's mentor diverted his attention away from the cats who were staring at him. "No," he concluded. "We have border patrol today. I hear a fox is on the border heading deeper in. We may have to chase it away," Whitetail lashed his tail. Weaselpaw sighed and headed out of the thorn tunnel. Beechwhisker was watching him from a distance, a worried expression on her face. She turned away when she found Weaselpaw looking at her. Beechwhisker was worried about her son; his mentor seemed to rough, he sometimes disappeared in the middle of the night and he seemed to already have made enemies within the Clan. She watched the entrance to camp as if Weaselpaw would come back.

Weaselpaw dropped into the hunter’s crouch, muscles tense. He was downwind of the squirrel. It scampered about a few tail-lengths away. Weaselpaw carefully placed one paw in front of the other until he was within striking distance. He was ready to pounce when the wind shifted. The plump squirrel scented him and raced up a tree. Weaselpaw shot forward, climbing up after the squirrel. He swatted it of a branch and it fell to its death. Weaselpaw leapt from branch to branch until he could safely reach the ground. He picked up the squirrel in his teeth and hid it in a hollow.

“Weaselpaw!” Whitetail yowled angrily as he turned around looking for his apprentice. “We are on border patrol, not a hunting party!” Weaselpaw emerged from the bushes. “I scented a squirrel and I caught it,” he mewed. “Come on.” Whitetail padded away after the rest of the patrol. Weaselpaw looked around. Nothing was more refreshing than the scents of the forest in greenleaf flooding his nostrils. He saw some burdock root. “I have to tell Fernpelt and Pinepaw about that,” he meowed to himself. “What are you meowing about?” Wolfheart grumbled. “I saw some burdock root,” Weaselpaw replied. “And?” Wolfheart didn’t wait for an answer. He went to the front of the group and led them to the ShadowClan border.

A hiss in the trees startled the four cats. “Come on out,” whitetail demanded. A ginger tom stepped out with a white she-cat beside him. “Don’t you dare cross the border,” the tom threatened. “Yeah,” spat the she-cat. “Why would we even think about it? We have no taste for frogs and toads,” Rainfeather snorted. The she-cat hissed. “Let’s go, Hawkstorm,” she meowed with disgust and the two stalked off. “I wonder what their problem is,” meowed Weaselpaw. “Who knows,” whitetail replied. “ShadowClan warriors are sour little sacks of bones.”

The cats lined up at the thorn tunnel, shifting uneasily at the thought of being lead by a different cat than the Clan leader in such small numbers. Whitetail ignorantly disregarded the tense cats and took large strides, head held high. A thought suddenly struck him. What would the other Clans think? His confidence diminished, Whitetail walked as if a fox was following him.

Pinepaw sniffed the air and scented WindClan and ShadowClan. Puzzled, he watched Nightpaw weave her way through the branches on the fallen tree bridging between the land and the island. There was no reason why was RiverClan should be running late. The island was in their territory. Pinepaw leapt onto the tree and carefully picked his way around the dead stubs of once living branches. A thick one was planted right in the middle. When he tried to skirt around it, he lost his footing. Despite his desperate attempts, Pinepaw slipped and hung less than a tail length above the water.

"Help!" Pinepaw shrieked. One by one, his claws detached from the strain to hold himself up. His hind legs churned helplessly in the air and he twisted to get a better grip, scraping his fore legs as he tried to scrabble about. A heavyset ShadowClan tom jumped up to help the brown apprentice. The tom's weight shook the tree with so much force, Pinepaw screeched at him to move away from the tree. One claw stuck in the decaying bark, loosening at every step the ShadowClan cat made. Thornflower shoved her way to the front of the crowd and hissed menacingly at the tom. "Can't you see you're not helping? You are useless fox dung! Get away from my son!" The lithe she-cat leapt up and stalked over to the warrior. She slowly advanced on him, forcing the cat to move back. Pinepaw writhed in mid-air, his tail-tip brushing the surface of the lake. By the time Thornflower had forced the ShadowClan cat away, it was too late. The bark tore away under Pinepaw's weight. His claw caught on a branch before the claw was torn off and he plummeted toward the water.

Water surged up around him as he sank deeper. Pinepaw tried to swim up toward the surface, but his paws were useless in water. His lungs screamed for air and with a sudden burst of strength, he pushed himself and bobbed momentarily on the surface. "Pinepaw!" Thornflower yowled above the commotion. The ShadowClan tom stared in horror at what he had done trying to help the young cat. A gray cat flung herself into the water. "Silverpaw!" A dark gray she-cat went to jump in as well, but a white tom threw himself between the warrior and the lake, fur bristling. "No, Pebbleheart. I don't want to lose you." He hissed, but his eyes showed that he was fond of the she-cat. "Please, Cloudpatch, Silverpaw is my last living kit!" Fear shone in her eyes. A splash sounded from behind them.

Two heads floated on the surface, sputtering and gasping for air. The cats went back under and Pinepaw forced himself to open his eyes. The water blurred his sight temporarily before he spotted a gray shape moving toward him. When he tried to swim toward Silverpaw, he found his legs would not work. She grabbed him by the scruff and swam to the surface before dragging Pinepaw to the island. Silverpaw flopped down on the shore. The dark gray flecks stood out against her pelt, which shone silver in the moonlight. When Pinepaw tried to stand, his front legs collapsed under him and pain shot up both. He let out a blood-curdling screech and yowled for Fernpelt. Thornflower was instantly at his side. "Fernpelt is ill," she said gravely.

Flowerheart rushed toward Pinepaw. "Please tell me he's going to be okay," Thornflower asked the WindClan medicine cat. "He will be fine, but it will take him a while to recover," Flowerheart replied as she carefully prodded at Pinepaw's legs. "The left fore leg is dislocated. I can fix that now. Silverpaw, would you mind holding Pinepaw still?" "Anything to help, Flowerheart," Silverpaw replied. Flowerheart held the leg out straight. With a sudden shove, it popped back into place. Pinepaw writhed and screeched. Silverpaw flinched. "The other leg is broken. I'll put it in a splint," Flowerheart meowed and got to work.

"There," mewed Flowerheart. "That should do it. Try not to put pressure on it," Pinepaw nodded blankly and put his head down on the ground. He saw the cats heading toward the center of the island and staggered to his paws. "Sit down!" ordered Flowerheart. “Rest your leg," she added more softly as Pinepaw slowly lay back down. “When the rest of the cats are past we can go sit at the edge of the clearing.” Pinepaw flicked his tail and watched the ShadowClan cats pad away.

Weaselpaw watched in amazement as all the WindClan cats automatically clumped together. A gray ShadowClan apprentice ventured toward the cats. A loud hiss sounded from a black she-cat. The apprentice shot backwards, fur standing on end and eyes wide in terror. Another cat spat an insult at the little gray cat. She turned and ran back to her Clan, where her mentor was calling her. “Graypaw! Come here!”

Weaselpaw stared up at the gnarled tree. Its twists and snarls provided pawholds for the leaders to navigate their way up it. Owlstar leapt gracefully to the first branch, ignoring the fact that Jaystar was scrabbling up below her. She settled down on the branch above Whitetail. Jaystar finally heaved himself up onto the lowest branch, panting as if he’d outrun a fox. Owlstar began to murmur unintelligibly to him. He nodded and she stood to address the Clans.

“Let the Gathering begin!” the brown tabby she-cat yowled. The cats in the clearing shifted uneasily. One brave tom stepped forward. “But RiverClan has not arrived yet!” An apprentice shouted a few words of encouragement, then shrank back, embarrassed. “The Gathering cannot begin unless all four Clans are present!” pointed out another warrior. “Yes,” agreed a she-cat. The whole clearing broke in yowls of protest. “Enough!” yowled Jaystar. “It is well past moonhigh and we cannot afford to stay here all night waiting for cats that will never show up.” He bowed his head. Owlstar,” he grumbled.

“The prey is running well in ShadowClan. I expect a hard leaf-bare this year, so we have been stocking up on supplies available to us only in greenleaf. The twolegs have kept to the edge of our territory and earlier a fox strayed into our camp. We quickly showed it the way out,” she meowed. Owlstar dug her claws into the bark, fur bristling. Her muscles tensed and she snarled, remembering the battle. ShadowClan broke in yowls of triumph and Owlstar lost the far away look in her eyes. She stood proudly and continued. “We have three new kits. They are Swiftkit, Dark-kit and Lonekit.”

Jaystar stepped forward uncertainly. “All is well in WindClan. We have a new apprentice, Silverpaw. There is nothing else to report,” he finished. His gaze flitted around the clearing. His announcement had been even shorter than the usual quick reports the cautious leader gave. The cats in the clearing began to murmur amongst themselves and shot suspicious glances at the WindClan cats, who were edgier than normal. “All is well,” Jaystar repeated in a firm tone, but his eyes betrayed him. They shone with fear and uncertainty, unlike any confident leader. Something fishy was going on in WindClan and he was trying to convince himself as much as the other Clans that nothing was wrong.

Whitetail spoke from his perch. “Terrible illness has struck in ThunderClan and although Morningstar was unable to attend, we are not weak. We expect the sick warriors to recover within a quarter moon. We have three new kits; they are Redkit, Smokekit and Lionkit. Our medicine cat, Fernpelt, now has an apprentice. His name is Pinepaw.” Whitetail’s meow rang out over the Clans. He sounded like a true leader already.

Flowerheart and Pinepaw sat on the edge of the clearing. Pinepaw had dozed off and Flowerheart grooming her pelt drowsily, not paying much attention to the Gathering. Both medicine cats were unaware of a presence behind the.

Flowerheart’s screech was cut off by a cat that suddenly leaped out of the shadows. Flowerheart struggled to throw the tom off of her. He had thrown his weight down on top of her full force. ‘Pinepaw,” she choked. “Get help.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. Pinepaw’s shrieks of horror rang throughout the clearing. “What in StarClan…?” spat Owlstar. She jumped down from her branch and raced to the scene.

The mysterious cat bit down on Flowerheart’s neck. Her blood filled his mouth. He gagged but did not loosen his hold. Pinepaw let out another horrified, blood-curdling screech. The gray and brown tom released his death grip. Blood spurted on the ground. Owlstar finally broke through the wall of cats that surrounded the dying medicine cat. She drew back as the scent of blood hit her nostrils. Flowerheart gurgled and writhed. “Flowerheart!” Silverpaw burst forward. She mewed in desperation and ran toward the medicine cat. Flowerheart drew a shaky breath. “Silverpaw,” she gasped. Slowly she opened her mouth to speak. “Silverpaw,” she repeated. Flowerheart began to cough, choking on blood. She gasped once more and fell back. Silverpaw buried her nose in the fur; it was already growing cold. Flowerheart was dead.

Her murderer strode forward out of the shadows. The moon disappeared behind an enormous cloud. Rain fell steadily and thunder boomed in the distance. A flash of lightning revealed battle-hungry warriors on the opposite shore. The tom parted his jaws in a yowl. "The night shall be ours!"

CHAPTER TWO

"Eaglestar," Whitetail spat, and ran to warn the other Clans. The RiverClan cats powerfully swam across the stretch of water and launched an attack. Battle yowls rang out across the clearing and clouds blocked out the moon's light. Blackstorm fought beside Weaselpaw, not against him. Scarface and Whitetail tumbled over in fury onto Tigerspots, a RiverClan tom. A sleek black tom approached where Thornflower and Silverpaw guarded Pinepaw. Silverpaw whipped around and sprang at the tom. She clawed his eyes as he flipped her. She hissed and knocked him into a tree. A snap of bone indicated that the damage had been done and the tom managed to limp away. Thornflower bowed her head to Silverpaw and ran to join the battle.

A tabby she-cat lunged at Dawnstripe. Claws sheathed, Dawnstripe swatted at the warrior. "So we meet again, Rosethorn," she spat. Rosethorn hissed and flipped Dawnstripe over with a thud. Dawnstripe raked her claws across the tabby's flank. Rosethorn yowled and bit into Dawnstripe's ear. She easily overpowered Dawnstripe, being large for a she-cat. Dawnstripe wiggled free and gave a powerful back kick to Rosethorn's belly. For a moment, she showed no signs of recovering and Dawnstripe turned to face a tom. But Rosethorn got up and plowed into Dawnstripe. She placed a claw on Dawnstripe's throat. "Surrender or die," she mewed in a hushed whisper. "Never! I would rather die fighting for what's right. Kill me now," Dawnstripe rasped. Rosethorn slashed once and the life began to pour out of Dawnstripe, her blood staining the ground as it seeped from her fatal wound.

"No!" cried Nightpaw. "Dawnstripe?" she mewed hopelessly. "Be strong. I know you can," Dawnstripe struggled to speak her last words. "You can't die, you can't!" protested Nightpaw. "I am dying a warrior's death. Now is my time to go if it means helping my Clan. Goodbye, my only daughter. I will always love you, even in the ranks of StarClan." Dawnstripe drew her final breath and her chest did not rise or fall again. Nightpaw let out a yowl of desperation and collapsed.

Eaglestar hid behind a large pine. Whitetail sprinted past and Eaglestar lunged. The two fell over in a pile of claws and teeth. "Whitetail! You honestly thought you could lead ThunderClan into a battle so gruesome? Your numbers are too small to even think about fighting the most powerful Clan in the forest! If you were smart, you would back down now and be ruled by me, not ill Morningstar." He sneered as he spoke of Morningstar. "If not, your worthless life will be mine," he meowed with determination. Whitetail gathered up all of his strength into his hind legs and gave a powerful shove to Eaglestar's belly. The RiverClan leader lay still, winded. But soon he on his feet again, unphased. "How about I dispose of your medicine cat?" Eaglestar spat, nearing Pinepaw. "I don't think so!" Silverpaw yowled and she launched herself at the tom. She dug her claws into his back and he easily threw her off. She leapt back to her paws and carefully landed planned blows on Eaglestar's face, Whitetail clawing him from behind. Eaglestar reared up and landed heavily on Silverpaw. She yowled louder than any cat on the island, but in rage, not pain. Silverpaw wriggled and slashed Eaglestar's flank while Whitetail grabbed him by the scruff and yanked him off Silverpaw.

He watched Eaglestar grasp Silverpaw by the scruff and fling her against a tree. "No!" "Silverpaw is perfectly fine without you." "No, she's not! She hasn't gotten up yet! Let me go give Eaglestar a piece of me!" He yowled angrily and lashed his tail. "Calm down, Silverpaw is back on her paws. He nodded in satisfaction when Whitetail pinned down Eaglestar, Silverpaw biting down hard on his swishing tail. Eaglestar spat in Whitetail's face.

"You may have nine lives, but I will kill the one you were born with," hissed Whitetail. "As if," snorted Eaglestar, and he heaved himself up, throwing off Whitetail. Whitetail rounded, hissing and spitting. Fury ran through Silverpaw, nose to tail-tip, rage straightening every hair on her pelt. She lunged and got Eaglestar in an inescapable position. She placed one paw on his throat and pressed down. He began to choke. "Please," he gurgled. He gasped for air, each breath shorter than the last. His eyes flashed eight times; after each flash a thin outline of himself shot away into the trees. Silverpaw let up when only one of Eaglestar’s lives remained. He looked around in fear, then whispered, "Please spare me and I will never bother WindClan again," Silverpaw sat up and looked him arrogantly in the face. She had complete control over the leader of RiverClan. "Or ThunderClan, or ShadowClan," she hissed. He nodded and pelted away, shouting behind him, "Retreat, RiverClan! Retreat!"

Whitetail limped along beside Wolfheart and Rainfeather, who were supporting Pinepaw. Unable to walk, Pinepaw had to be carried back to the ThunderClan camp. "What will we do about the ill and wounded cats when our medicine cats themselves are victims of illness and injury?" Rainfeather looked at Whitetail's nasty wounds. "I really do not know," Wolfheart sighed. Suddenly Pinepaw began to shake. “Pinepaw?” Rainfeather asked. “Pinepaw!” He slipped from the two warriors’ grip and slumped to the ground.

Featherwhisker’s paws pounded on the earth as she called the medicine cat apprentice’s name. “Pinepaw! I have an urgent message for you!” Pinepaw felt himself shaking as StarClan fought to take the waking moment from him. He collapsed on the leafy ground, then rose shakily to his paws. “Yes, Featherwhisker?” he called out feebly. She was upon him in a heartbeat. “Pinepaw, the silver paws of Wind will come to help.” Pinepaw was bewildered. “What do you mean?” he mewed, but Featherwhisker was already beginning to fade. “Remember, silver paws will help. . . .”

Pinepaw awoke on cold, hard stone. “He’s awake!” some cat called. Pinepaw looked around. “How long was I asleep?” he rasped. The sun had risen on the opposite horizon. “Since moonset, at least,” a familiar voice said. It was Silverpaw! ThunderClan and WindClan were gathered on a stretch of rock that reeked of enemy Clan. Pinepaw realized with a jolt that they were on WindClan territory. “I got a message from StarClan,” he began. The cats began to crowd around him to hear the ominous message.

“A StarClan cat told me that the silver paws of Wind would help. I think StarClan meant that Silverpaw,” he looked over at the she-cat, “would come to help ThunderClan in their time of need, and StarClan would guide WindClan’s paws while she was gone.” The cats around him began to murmur anxiously. Jaystar stepped forward. “And why would I let ThunderClan use the only cat in WindClan with medicine cat training?” Many cats shrank away at his anger, but Pinepaw defied him. “And you would go against the will of StarClan? I may be small, but I am still a medicine cat. I put aside Clan boundaries.” Jaystar looked utterly defeated. He had been proved wrong by a cat who was barely an apprentice. "Very well," Jaystar mewed, then added hastily to Silverpaw, "Don't let ThunderClan get any ideas."

Silverpaw ran up to Pinepaw. "I heard I'm going to be helping you out for the next couple of moons," she mewed. "Yeah," Pinepaw sighed. "Why did I have to fall into the stupid lake?" Silverpaw looked him in the face. "It wasn't your fault. It was that ShadowClan elder. I guess maybe that's why ShadowClan don't help. Whenever they try to make it better, they make it worse." Pinepaw purred. Rainfeather shook his head in amusement. Wolfheart managed to lift his head and spot the camp. "Hey look, camp is just ahead." And sure enough, the thorn tunnel lay up above. The cliff was in sight too. "Silverpaw," Rainfeather mewed. "Whatever you do, don't go near that thorn bush. Right on the other side is a cliff that cats have died falling off of." He shivered. His own son had fallen off the edge as an apprentice. Rainfeather shook off the feeling of dread and entered the camp.

"Wow!" Silverpaw exclaimed. Tall stone walls stretched up into the sky. They were smooth and impossible to climb. She saw the cliff, and a sturdy plant that grew up one wall and covered an escape route. The warriors' den, the apprentices' den, the elders' den and the nursery were all intricately woven of branches. A living plant was the base of each and dead twigs and sticks formed strong walls to block out cold. A tall ledge stretched up another wall and at the top there was a crevice shaded by ferns. Silverpaw noticed that vines grew up every wall and that cracks had been sealed with twigs. The camp itself was perfect. "Your camp is beautiful!" She meowed, turning to Pinepaw. She turned to see the medicine den and gasped.

Silverpaw raced over to the sick cats. She pressed a paw to each forehead then went into the den. She came out almost immediately, gagging. She took a deep breath and entered the door again. She backed out momentarily, herbs dangling in her jaws and poppy seeds on her paw. She began to treat the cats with Pinepaw directing her. When all the cats had settled down, Morningstar gave her consent to Whitetail and Silverpaw going up the Highledge to report what had happened.

“What?” spat Bigbelly. “RiverClan tried to take over the forest at a Gathering?” Silverpaw nodded. “And Pinepaw has broken his leg. I am here to help until he or Fernpelt are recovered,” she explained. “How did Pinepaw break his leg?” A voice spoke up from the other side of the clearing. A small hazel cat looked up at the apprentice on Highledge. “He fell from the tree bridge. His claw snagged and his leg was jerked in the wrong direction.” Another voice called out. “Where’s Dawnstripe? Where’s Squirreltail?” Nightpaw stared ahead silently, wishing StarClan to give back her mother’s life. “They died a warrior’s death. No cat could die a nobler death than one to protect their Clan,” Whitetail meowed, making sure that he didn’t make eye contact with Nightpaw. Nightpaw quietly excused herself and padded to the camp entrance, where Wolfheart and Rainfeather were bringing in her mother’s body. Stumblefoot and Missingear were close behind with Squirreltail’s body as well.

Nightpaw threw herself into her mother’s body, burying her nose in the cold fur. “Oh Dawnstripe, why did you have to leave me?” she murmured. Hazelpaw padded over quietly and lay down to the she-cat. “It’s okay, Nightpaw,” he mewed softly. “I miss her too.” Dawnstripe’s two kits lay side by side during the vigil. Squirreltail’s body lay ungroomed and unattended. Rainfeather had sat beside her for a few heartbeats, but quickly decided he had better things to do.

The elders slipped the bodies out of the thorn tunnel as the early light of dawn approached. Dew dampened their fur as they dug the graves. Hazelpaw and Nightpaw stood and stretched their stiff legs. Silverpaw hurried out of the thorn tunnel in search of herbs to treat the sick cats. Pinepaw was left alone in the medicine den to exercise his wrenched shoulder. Suddenly he heard a slow, long moan, followed by retching. “Fernpelt?” a cat called weakly. Pinepaw stumbled out of the den, limping hard on his injured leg. He winced at each step. As he rounded the back of medicine den, he saw a dark gray cat twitching and coughing in the moss. “Morningstar!”

“Morningstar? Are you okay?” Pinepaw choked out, fighting back panic and terror. She retched again, shaking violently. “Morningstar!” he shrieked. Her eyes grew dull and her body still. “Morningstar lost a life!” he called, trying to be as loud as he could. There was no response to call. He hobbled out from behind the den and yelled more strongly, “Morningstar has lost a life!” Whitetail poked his head out of the warriors’ den. He ran over and began to nose Morningstar. Soon the life came back to her eyes and she stood, clear of sickness. “StarClan has taken one of my lives, but with it, StarClan took the sickness! This is a sign that the sickness can be defeated!”

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath Highledge for a Clan meeting!” Morningstar called. All the cats that were well began to cluster around the rock that jutted out from the flat rock face. Morningstar noticed dejectedly that there were very few cats waiting for her announcement. Pinepaw stared up at her, shifting his paws. Silverpaw trotted out of the medicine den and sat beside him. Whitetail was grooming himself next to the nursery, where Thornflower had her tail wrapped around Bramblekit.

