River Of Fire

At the bottom of the hollow Nettle lay dead, his body half in and half out of the pool, his blood slowly spreading into the water. And beside him . . .

Violetshine let out a choking sound. “Oh, no! Rowanclaw!”

The former leader lay stretched out close to Nettle’s body. He still lived, but blood was pulsing steadily from a gash in his throat. His eyes were glazed, and his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.

Tawnypelt flashed past Violetshine and flung herself down beside her dying mate. “Rowanclaw . . . oh, Rowanclaw,” she whispered. “Stay with me!”

Rowanclaw blinked up at her. “No, this is for the best,” he murmured. “It was my fault that ShadowClan was destroyed. But don’t worry,” he added reassuringly, reaching out a paw to touch Tawnypelt’s shoulder. “Tigerheart will return. I’ve seen him in my dreams. . . .”

Violetshine wasn’t sure she could believe that, and she guessed that Tawnypelt didn’t, either.

“Good-bye, Tawnypelt,” Rowanclaw mewed. He let out one last breath and his body went limp. His eyes closed. The flow of blood from his throat slowed, then stopped.

“No . . .” Tawnypelt nuzzled his shoulder. “Rowanclaw, you had nine lives. You must come back.”

For a few moments Violetshine watched, hardly daring to breathe. Is it possible that StarClan refused to take back his lives? she asked herself. Could he have been Rowanstar all along?

But as the heartbeats passed and Rowanclaw didn’t move, Violetshine realized that the hope was vain. The former leader was truly dead.

“Come on,” Violetshine mewed gently, bending over to touch her nose to Tawnypelt’s head. “Let’s carry him back to camp for his vigil. He gave back his lives,” she added, struggling to keep her voice steady. “But he died like a Clan leader.”

Macgyver padded down the slope to join them and help them lift Rowanclaw’s body. “What do you think, Tawnypelt?” he asked. “Will you be able to lead ShadowClan now?”

Tawnypelt stared at him as if for a moment she didn’t understand the question. Then she shook her head. “Not after this,” she replied. “Not without Rowanclaw. ShadowClan is dead.”

CHAPTER 18

Alderheart watched Velvet carefully as she padded in front of him around the camp. He stood beside her as she paused to watch Ivypool’s kits tumbling and playing in front of the nursery, and joined in with her soft mrrows of laughter at the little creatures’ antics. The sun was going down, and every cat was enjoying the last of the warmth before shadows filled the stone hollow.

A quarter moon had passed since Briarlight’s death, and Alderheart could finally think without pain about how much she would have enjoyed watching the kits.

She gave so much to the Clan, he thought, and we’ll all miss her, but I know she’ll be able to run again in StarClan.

“Your leg is much better,” Alderheart told Velvet as they resumed their walk. “You’re hardly limping at all now.”

He was glad she was better, but he suppressed a wistful sigh at the thought that she didn’t need his help anymore, and soon she would go back to the Twolegplace.

We’ll still be friends, though, won’t we?

As they turned back before they reached the thorn tunnel, Alderheart spotted Sparkpelt and Larksong talking to Bramblestar in the middle of the camp.

“They all look pleased about something,” Velvet mewed.

“Maybe there’s some good news,” Alderheart responded. “We could certainly do with some. I’d better get back,” he added. “There’ll be herbs to sort, even if no sick cats come by.”

Reluctantly he began leading Velvet back to the medicine cats’ den. After her brief visit when Briarlight died, Leafpool had returned to RiverClan, and Jayfeather would shred Alderheart’s fur if he thought that he was shirking his duties.

“I can help you,” Velvet offered. “I’ve learned even more about herbs since I’ve been with you in the medicine-cat den. I can be useful!”

When they slipped past the bramble screen into the den, Alderheart saw that Jayfeather was peering down Rosepetal’s throat, while Fuzzball bounced around at his paws.

“What’s wrong with her, Jayfeather?” he asked. “Can I fetch the herb for her? I know lots now!”

Jayfeather muttered something between his teeth, of which Alderheart caught the words annoying little furball. Suddenly worried about what he had done, Alderheart beckoned the little ginger tom with a twitch of his ears.

“Are you okay with Jayfeather?” he asked in an undertone. “I know he can be difficult—”

“Oh, no!” Fuzzball exclaimed, blinking up adoringly at the skinny gray tabby. “Jayfeather is so cool! I know he’s strict, but that’s because he’s so important.”

Alderheart exchanged an amused glance with Velvet. There’s no accounting for tastes. . . .