Erin Hunter - The Sight

“A little,” Hollypaw admitted. In fact, she was almost numb with exhaustion.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Leafpool suggested. She got to her paws and padded toward the medicine den. Gratefully, Hollypaw followed her. She was looking forward to curling up in her nest and closing her eyes.

When Hollypaw awoke, weak sunlight was flowing through the brambles, rippling like water on the sandy earth.

Immediately she thought of Graystripe. Firestar had told them nothing would change right now . Did this mean that he planned to replace Brambleclaw with his old friend eventually? Would StarClan expect him to?

She padded from the warm moss, scenting the chilly air.

Her belly rumbled.

Leafpool lay in her nest, eyes closed. But as Hollypaw stirred, she lifted her nose. “Awake already?” She got to her paws and stretched, curling her tail till it shivered. “You had a busy night. I thought you’d sleep longer.”

“I’m hungry,” Hollypaw confessed.

“There’s fresh-kill on the pile,” Leafpool told her, scenting the air.

Hollypaw fetched a mouse for her mentor and a vole for herself. She ate ravenously, swallowing it in a few mouthfuls before licking her paws and washing her face. “Shall we check on Graystripe now?” she asked eagerly.

“Is it sunhigh?”

“Not yet.”

“Then let them sleep a little longer,” Leafpool decided.

She padded over to the piles of herbs at the back of the den and began sifting through them. “I need you to fetch some borage,” she meowed. “We’re running low, and Graystripe or Millie might have a fever. There’s some lakeward, over the ridge.”

Alarm pricked at Hollypaw’s claws. “You won’t wake them before I return?” There might be a lot to learn from the Clan’s newest patients. She hadn’t had a sick cat to treat since she became a medicine cat. She had tried to learn the names of herbs and what they were used for, but she was looking forward to actually using some. It might help her memorize them a little more easily.

“So long as you don’t dawdle,” Leafpool warned.

“I won’t,” Hollypaw promised.

Leafpool turned back to her herbs, spreading poppy seeds under her paw to count them.

Hollypaw turned to leave, then paused. “The Clan sat vigil for Graystripe, didn’t it?”

“Yes, we did.” Leafpool didn’t look up from sifting through a pile of feverfew leaves.

“Does that mean he’s officially dead? In the eyes of StarClan, I mean?”

“I think StarClan will have noticed that Graystripe’s with us and not them,” Leafpool meowed dryly.

“But what about the warrior code? Is he officially dead according to the warrior code?”

“Did he look like he was dead last night?” Leafpool meowed.

“But if he’s not dead, then surely he’s still dep—”

“We are here to heal.” Leafpool looked directly at her.

“Firestar’s problems are not ours, unless StarClan wishes them to be. Now, are you going?”

“Going?” Hollypaw echoed.

“To fetch the borage.” Leafpool sighed. “If you’re not back before sunhigh I shall wake them without you.”

“I’m going!” Hollypaw promised, spinning around and pushing her way out of the den.

Up on the ridge, a cold, fresh breeze was blowing through the trees from across the lake. Hollypaw thought she could detect the scent of RiverClan on it.

Her paws itched to go exploring, but she wanted to get back before Graystripe and Millie woke up. She ducked her head and began to sniff the ground, hoping to find a scent trail that might lead her to borage. She desperately tried to remember what it smelled like in the medicine den, but her nose was too full of the scents of water and wind.

She padded down the steep slope, heading for where the trees thinned. The sun sparkled on the lake. What a great day for hunting! She pushed the thought away. She was hunting.

Hunting for borage. Sniffing the ground once more, she picked up a tangy scent that seemed familiar. She followed it carefully, clambering over the low boulders that dimpled the ground, and tracked the scent into some long grass, where she spotted green, jagged leaves growing in a clump on long, thin stems. They carried the scent she had been following. It was stronger up close and more bitter. Was this borage? She had seen this before, she was sure.

She glanced up at the sun. It shone high above her.

Leafpool would be waking Graystripe and Millie soon.

Quickly she nipped a few stems, breaking them at the base, careful not to swallow any of the bitter sap. She pitied the cat who had to eat such a foul-tasting herb as she picked up the fallen stems in her jaws and hurried back to the camp.

“This isn’t borage.” Leafpool stared in dismay at the stems Hollypaw had placed in front of her. “This is yarrow. This makes cats sick.”

Hollypaw closed her eyes, ashamed and angry. Why couldn’t she remember anything Leafpool taught her?

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Leafpool encouraged.

“There’s a lot to learn.”

Hollypaw couldn’t meet her eyes. Don’t make excuses for me. I should be doing better than this by now!

“Come on,” Leafpool meowed briskly. “We can do without borage. Fetch some marigold leaves and we’ll go and wake Graystripe.”

Marigold leaves! Hollypaw knew what they looked like.

She bounded to the back of the cave and picked up a mouthful, then followed Leafpool across the clearing to Graystripe and Millie’s makeshift den.

Firestar stood outside with Sandstorm and Honeypaw.

Dustpelt, Thornclaw, Poppypaw, and Hazelpaw milled around eagerly. Graystripe and Millie, still ruffled from sleep, sat among them. Millie was staring from face to face, her ears twitching. Even Graystripe looked uncomfortable, like he had forgotten what it was like to have so many cats around him.

“Have you been awake long?” Leafpool asked, weaving through the others to reach Graystripe. She glanced sternly at the cats clustered around the gray warrior and his mate. “I hope no cat woke you.”

“No.” Graystripe drew his paws closer in and tucked his tail tighter around him. “The sun woke us.”

“You can catch up with everyone later.” Leafpool twitched her tail, making it clear she wanted the other cats to leave.

“Let me know how they are when you’ve finished,” Firestar requested before he led his Clanmates away.

Graystripe’s shoulders loosened as they left. Millie looked relieved too.

“Any scratches?” Leafpool asked.

“Millie has a cut on one of her pads.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Gingerly Millie held up her forepaw. “There’s a thorn in there,” Leafpool meowed. “Jaypaw was right; it’s infected.”

She flicked her tail at Hollypaw. “My apprentice will pull it out while I prepare some leaves to heal the infection.”

Hollypaw gulped and inhaled a fragment of marigold leaf from the bunch she still held in her jaws. She coughed, spitting the leaves out onto the ground, and glanced anxiously at Millie, who gazed equally anxiously back. Hollypaw knew she couldn’t refuse. This was what she had wanted, a chance to practice instead of simply learning. She peered closely at Millie’s paw. Sure enough, a thorn was buried deep in the pad.

To Hollypaw’s dismay she could see blood and pus oozing around it.

“That must be sore,” she breathed. Did she really have to pull it out with her teeth?

Leafpool narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps I’d better do it.”

Self-consciously, Hollypaw backed away and let Leafpool take her place. “Shall I chew the marigold leaves into a poultice?” she offered, her fur prickling with guilt.