Erin Hunter - The Sight

Unable to speak, he shrugged.

She seemed to understand, for she turned away and began to hurry back to where Cloudtail waited on the wall.

Together they scrambled over and set off back to the camp.

“This is all that was left undamaged,” he explained to Leafpool as he dropped the mouthful of stalks on the floor of the medicine den. He could feel disappointment turning her paws to stone.

“It’s better than nothing,” she meowed. She picked up the stalks with her teeth and hurried out of the den.

Jaypaw followed her. Would Mousefur be worse?

The old she-cat’s labored breathing echoed around the honeysuckle bush. The air smelled bitter, and it prickled with Longtail’s anxiety.

“Is that catmint?” he asked hopefully.

Leafpool dropped it beside Mousefur. “Yes.”

“There’s not much,” Longtail observed.

“It’ll have to do,” Leafpool told him. “Frost has damaged the rest.” She crouched down and whispered to Mousefur, “I want you to chew this and swallow as much as you can.”

Mousefur groaned. Jaypaw slid around beside the old she-cat and pressed his cheek to her flank. She was burning with fever and trembling. Then she coughed and he heard her breath bubbling beneath his ear. He jerked up his head and stared desperately at Leafpool.

“She may be old, but she’s strong,” the medicine cat reassured him. Then she urged Mousefur, “Come on, eat a little.”

The old cat took a few stalks in her mouth and began to chew. Jaypaw felt her pain like thorns in his pelt as she swallowed. She must have seen him flinch, for she lifted her muzzle toward him so that her sour breath ruffled his fur. “What a fuss you’re making over me,” she rasped. “Anyone would think I was about to join StarClan.” She forced a purr, and Jaypaw felt the pain of it shake her body. “I don’t think they’re ready for me yet. And besides, if I go, who will make sure Longtail remembers to check his pelt for fleas?”

“You’ll be better in no time,” Jaypaw told her, willing it to be true.

Pawsteps padded quickly outside the den, and the honeysuckle rustled. Jaypaw smelled Daisy’s scent at the entrance.

“Leafpool?” The kittypet sounded worried.

Leafpool lifted her head. “Yes?”

“Ferncloud is unwell.”

Alarm shot through Jaypaw.

“What’s wrong?” Leafpool asked.

“She’s wheezing, and her eyes and nose are streaming.”

Mousefur let out an agonized groan. “I went to the nursery yesterday to see the kits,” she croaked.

“Foxkit and Icekit seem fine,” Daisy mewed at once.

“I’ll come and check on Ferncloud,” Leafpool meowed.

“Shall I stay with Mousefur?” Jaypaw offered.

“No.” Mousefur began to cough. “Check on the kits!” She pushed the rest of the catmint away from her. “Don’t waste your time fussing over an old warrior like me.”

“You must take these herbs,” Leafpool insisted, pawing them back under Mousefur’s nose. “You’re not as strong as Ferncloud.”

“Check on the kits first,” Mousefur answered stubbornly.

“Okay, I will.” Leafpool slipped out of the elders’ den.

Jaypaw followed her as she raced across the clearing. He squeezed into the nursery behind her. The familiar smell of his old home was tainted by the smell of sickness. Ferncloud was struggling for breath, and even without touching her, Jaypaw could feel the heat pulsing from her body.

“It’s definitely greencough,” Leafpool announced. “But the kits are not infected.”

“We should get Ferncloud away from them,” Jaypaw suggested.

“I can look after them instead.” Daisy had followed them into the nursery. “They’re close enough to weaning now.”

“Thank you,” Leafpool meowed, nudging Ferncloud to her paws.

Grief flashed from Ferncloud as Foxkit and Icekit began mewling. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised weakly.

Daisy’s fur brushed their tiny pelts as she curled around them. “We’ll have fun with all this space to ourselves,” she told them. “Ferncloud will just be across the clearing. She’s not leaving the camp.”

“Why can’t she stay here?” Foxkit wailed.

“Because we don’t want you getting sick too,” Daisy explained.

“Be good,” Ferncloud mewed, her breath coming in gasps as Leafpool began to guide her from the den.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” Icekit called.

Jaypaw could sense the anxiety behind Icekit’s brave words. He flicked his tail over her back. “I’ll ask Hollypaw to come and teach you all the new fighting moves she’s been learning,” he offered.

“Really?” Icekit squeaked, brightening.

“Fetch Mousefur,” Leafpool called to him from outside.

“We’ll settle both cats in the medicine den, where we can keep an eye on them.”

Jaypaw’s heart began pounding again as he scrabbled out of the nursery. He had wanted a chance to protect his Clanmates, but a warrior could do it with teeth and claws, while all he had to offer was a pawful of pulpy roots. How could this be his destiny?

Dawn brought another victim. Jaypaw was woken by Whitewing as she limped into the medicine den, tail down and wheezing. He had learned the deadly scent of greencough by now and sprang from his nest. But Leafpool was already beside the white warrior, listening to her breathing.

“Make a nest for her beside Ferncloud and Mousefur,” she ordered Jaypaw.

He hurried to fetch some of the spare moss they kept at the side of the den. At least they had plenty of that, he thought bitterly. He quickly shaped a nest beside Mousefur, who was sleeping at last, her breathing short and irregular.

And Ferncloud seemed to be comfortable, though her fever was rising as she battled the illness.

Whitewing collapsed gratefully into the nest.

“We need more catmint,” Leafpool hissed so that only Jaypaw’s sharp ears could hear.

Jaypaw sensed terror in her voice. What did she expect him to do? Grow some?

“Check all the other warriors and apprentices,” Leafpool ordered more loudly.

He nodded, then turned and headed out of the den. Why hadn’t StarClan warned them this was going to happen?

Instead of lecturing him, Spottedleaf or Yellowfang could have told him that greencough was coming. He could have gathered catmint before the frost had come.

Dustpelt was pacing outside the nursery. Jaypaw recognized the warrior’s heavy pawsteps on the frozen earth and sensed the turmoil of fear that gripped his thoughts.

“How’s Ferncloud?” he demanded as soon as he saw Jaypaw.

“No worse,” Jaypaw assured him.

“Should I visit her?”

“It’s probably better if you stay away,” Jaypaw advised. “We want to stop the illness from spreading.”

Daisy wriggled out of the nursery. “Your kits are fine,” she told Dustpelt. “But if you keep hanging around here you’re going to worry them.” Jaypaw had never heard her sound so stern. “You should be out in the forest hunting; that’s the best way you can help them.”

Jaypaw felt surprise flash from Dustpelt.

“I want to know if Ferncloud gets worse,” the warrior meowed. Then he padded toward the barrier of thorns and headed out into the forest.

As Jaypaw turned toward the apprentice’s den, the dawn patrol pounded into the clearing, led by Graystripe.

Hollypaw was among them, her scent laced with the fresh smells of the forest.

“How are the sick cats?” she called to Jaypaw.

“Sleeping,” Jaypaw mewed back. “How’s the prey running?” Perhaps if the rest of the Clan could fill their bellies, they might be able to resist the sickness.

“There’s hardly anything aboveground,” Hollypaw reported. “Even the squirrels are staying in their dens.”