The Fourth Apprentice

Before he reached the dead tree, the scent of blood led him to his leader. Firestar was lying on his side in a clump of ferns, his breath coming harsh and shallow. Sandstorm and Graystripe were crouched over him while Thornclaw kept watch from the top of a tree stump.

“Thank StarClan!” Sandstorm exclaimed as Jayfeather dashed up. “Firestar, Jayfeather’s here. Just hold on.”

“What happened?” Jayfeather asked, running his paws gently over Firestar’s side. His belly lurched as he discovered a long gash with blood still pulsing out of it.

“We were patrolling, and a fox leaped out at us,” Graystripe replied. “We chased it off, but…” His voice choked.

“Find some cobwebs,” Jayfeather ordered. He began to chew up the horsetail to make a poultice. Where’s Leafpool? he asked himself in agony. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.

He patted the poultice onto the gash in his leader’s side, binding it with the cobwebs that Graystripe thrust into his paws, but before he had finished he heard Firestar’s breathing grow slower and slower, until at last it stopped.

“He’s losing a life,” Sandstorm whispered.

Jayfeather went on numbly fixing the poultice in place, so that when Firestar recovered he wouldn’t lose any more blood. The time seemed to stretch out unnaturally, and Jayfeather’s mind whirled as he tried to count up how many lives his leader had left.

That wasn’t his last life, was it? It couldn’t be!

He had almost given up hope, when Firestar gave a cough, his breathing started up again, and he raised his head. “Thanks, Jayfeather,” he mewed weakly. “Don’t look so worried. I’ll be fine in a few heartbeats.”

But as Firestar set off back to camp, leaning on Graystripe’s shoulder, with Sandstorm padding along anxiously on his other side and Thornclaw bringing up the rear, Jayfeather hadn’t been able to forgive himself. I needed Leafpool, and she wasn’t here. His former mentor hadn’t appeared until they were within sight of the stone hollow. She had been hunting on the WindClan border, and it had taken Briarpaw all that time to find her.

“You did your best,” she reassured Jayfeather when he told her what had happened. “Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

But Jayfeather wasn’t convinced; he knew that Leafpool would have saved Firestar if she had been there.

My Clan leader lost a life because of me, he told himself bitterly. What sort of medicine cat does that make me?

Now he finished sorting through the herbs, picked up a mouthful of ragwort, and set off for the elders’ den. When he ducked under the outer boughs of the hazel bush, he found Mousefur curled up near the trunk, snoring gently, while Longtail and the old loner, Purdy, sat side by side in the shade of the rock wall.

“So this badger, see, was out lookin’ for trouble, an’ I tracked it—” Purdy broke off as Jayfeather entered the den. “Hello, young ’un! What can we do for you?”

“Eat these herbs.” Jayfeather dropped the stems and divided them carefully into three. “It’s ragwort; it’ll keep your strength up.”

He heard Purdy’s wheezing breath as the old loner padded up and prodded the herbs with one paw. “That stuff? Looks funny to me.”

“Never mind what it looks like,” Jayfeather hissed through gritted teeth. “Just eat it. You too, Longtail.”

“Okay.” The blind elder padded across and licked up the herbs. “Come on, Purdy,” he mewed through the mouthful. “You know they’ll do you good.” His voice was hoarse, and his paw steps were unsteady. Every hair on Jayfeather’s pelt prickled with anxiety. The whole Clan was hungry and thirsty, but Longtail seemed to be suffering particularly badly. Jayfeather suspected he was giving his share of water and food to Mousefur.

If I can get Purdy on his own, I’ll ask him.

Purdy grunted disbelievingly, but Jayfeather heard him chewing up the ragwort. “Tastes foul,” the old loner complained.

Jayfeather picked up the remaining herbs and padded across to Mousefur. The elder was already waking up, roused by the sound of voices. “What do you want?” she demanded. “Can’t a cat get any sleep around here?”

She sounded as cranky as ever, which reassured Jayfeather that at least she was managing to cope with the heat. When Mousefur sounds nice and sweet, I’ll really start worrying!

“Ragwort,” he meowed. “You need to eat it.”

Mousefur let out a sigh. “I suppose you’ll nag me until I do. Well, while I’m eating it, you can tell me what went on at the Gathering last night.”

Jayfeather waited until he heard the old cat beginning to nibble on the herbs, then launched into an account of the previous night’s Gathering.