River Of Fire

“But medicine cats are supposed to be able to cross borders freely,” Alderheart pointed out.

“Even so,” the Clan leader meowed. “We need you in one piece, Alderheart, not shredded by a RiverClan patrol. You’re not going by yourself.”

“I’ll go.”

Alderheart started in surprise at the sound of his sister’s voice, and turned to see Sparkpelt standing behind him. She and Twigpaw were just approaching the fresh-kill pile with prey dangling from their jaws.

“Is that okay, Bramblestar?” she added, dropping her vole on the pile.

A warm feeling of anticipation swept through Alderheart as Bramblestar agreed. It would be good to go with his sister on his expedition to RiverClan, especially since that meant Twigpaw would be going with them.

I’ve been worried about Twigpaw. She looks so sad and anxious all the time. Now I’ll be able to see how she’s getting along with Sparkpelt, and if she’s feeling any better.

“Let’s go,” Sparkpelt said, dipping her head respectfully to her Clan leader. “Alderheart, you can tell us what it’s all about on the way.”

Sparkpelt took the lead as the ThunderClan patrol crossed the border stream and headed through WindClan territory, keeping close to the lakeshore. The rain had stopped; a damp wind still gusted across the lake, fluttering its surface. A heaving mass of cloud still covered the sky, though now and then a few watery rays of sunlight managed to break through.

“How are you?” Alderheart asked Twigpaw as they padded along side by side behind Sparkpelt.

“Fine, thanks,” Twigpaw responded.

The curt answer wasn’t at all like her, and Alderheart had the definite feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“Are you getting along with Sparkpelt?”

Twigpaw shrugged. “She’s okay.”

Now Alderheart was sure something was wrong, but before he could question Twigpaw any further, Sparkpelt called out, “WindClan patrol!”

Looking up, Alderheart spotted three WindClan cats streaming down the swell of the moor. As they drew closer he recognized Featherpelt, Hootwhisker, and Larkwing; they veered sideways and picked up their pace to intercept the ThunderClan patrol at the water’s edge.

The three ThunderClan cats bunched together. Twigpaw slid out her claws, while Sparkpelt’s shoulder fur bristled, as if they were expecting a fight.

“Take it easy,” Alderheart murmured. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

To his relief, none of the WindClan cats looked hostile as they drew to a halt. “Greetings,” Featherpelt meowed, dipping her head politely. “Are you on your way to see Harestar?”

“No, we’re going to RiverClan,” Alderheart replied, glad that his sister seemed willing to leave the talking to him. “We need to collect some watermint from over there. There’s not much left in our border stream.”

The three WindClan cats exchanged a rather guilty glance. “Sorry,” Featherpelt responded, giving her gray tabby fur a couple of embarrassed swipes with her tongue. “We have belly sickness in WindClan, and I guess we used it all.”

“Not to worry,” Alderheart assured her. “But we have the same sickness, and we really need watermint.”

“One of our border patrols told me there’s watermint on the banks of the RiverClan stream, but on our side,” Hootwhisker put in.

Alderheart nodded. “That’s where we’re heading. It should be okay to take some without bothering RiverClan.”

“Then can we come with you?” Hootwhisker asked. “We can pick some for our own stores.”

“Yes, that should please Kestrelflight,” Larkwing added. “Most of our cats are improving, but it can’t hurt to be prepared.”

Alderheart heard a faint hiss of annoyance from Sparkpelt. He couldn’t help wishing that the WindClan cats had used this other supply all along. But he knew there was no point in starting an argument about that now.

“Sure you can come,” he mewed. “Are you okay with that, Sparkpelt?”

“I suppose so,” Sparkpelt replied. “I suppose six cats will be better than three if we do run into trouble from RiverClan.”

“But surely there won’t be trouble when we have a medicine cat with us?” Hootwhisker asked. “At least . . .”

His voice trailed off, and all the cats exchanged doubtful glances. We have no idea how RiverClan will react, Alderheart thought. Not too long ago, it had been WindClan who had closed their borders, and they had been reluctant to share herbs that grew on their land with any of the other Clans.

Together the two patrols set off toward the RiverClan border, still keeping close to the water’s edge. The wind had dropped now, and the lake lay flat and still. There was no sign of a storm, but the sky above still looked bleak and gray. Alderheart’s feelings of dread wouldn’t be banished, as if he had fox dung clinging to his fur.