Erin Hunter - The Sight

Jaypaw closed his eyes. Where are you, StarClan? I’ve hardly had a dream without you sticking your whiskers in! Why don’t you help me now? But he heard nothing except Leafpool’s voice as she padded to his side.

“Check the apprentices, Jaypaw,” she reminded him grimly.

“StarClan are watching us already. But there are some battles we have to fight alone.”

“Dawn’s coming,” Leafpool whispered to Jaypaw. “You should get some rest.”

Jaypaw shook his head. “Not while we have so many sick cats to look after.”

He sniffed Poppypaw. The apprentice had developed a fever during the night and come to the medicine den. She lay now in a nest beside Ferncloud, her eyes sticky with pus, her breathing labored. The heat flooding from her frightened Jaypaw.

He listened, his pelt pricking with panic. The medicine den was crowded, the sound of wheezing and coughing jarred his ears, and the smell of sickness made his paws tremble with frustration. He had done everything he could to help his Clanmates, but no one was any better.

“Should we move them to the elders’ den?” he suggested to Leafpool, who was massaging Mousefur’s flank to try to help clear her breathing. “There’s more room there.”

“Mousefur and Ferncloud are too sick to move,” Leafpool pointed out. “Besides, there is water here.”

The pool of fresh water that trickled down the rock wall and gathered in a dip made it easy to soak moss for the thirsty cats. Jaypaw fetched a dripping ball of it for Poppypaw. He nudged her in an attempt to make her drink, but the tortoiseshell’s eyes were half closed, and she only groaned and pushed him away.

“If you won’t rest, at least get some fresh air,” Leafpool urged.

Jaypaw nodded. Wearily he padded out of the den. The air outside was clean and cold after the stuffy stench of the den.

Even though it was barely dawn, Firestar was already below Highledge with Brambleclaw. They were organizing the patrols. Ashfur and Birchfall paced restlessly around them.

“We need to keep the patrols short,” Brambleclaw meowed to the ThunderClan leader.

“But we must make sure the ShadowClan border remains well guarded,” Ashfur pointed out. “We don’t want them to take advantage of our weakness.”

“Lots of small patrols would be more efficient,” Birchfall suggested.

“Yes,” Firestar agreed. “I don’t want our warriors to wear themselves out when there’s so much sickness around. We need them fit.”

“I can do two patrols a day.” Millie’s mew rang around the frozen hollow. The gray kittypet padded out from behind the warriors’ den, Graystripe at her side.

“Are you sure?” Firestar checked.

“I was given medicine by the vet to stop me from getting sick,” Millie explained. “Whenever other cats fell ill in Twolegplace, I always stayed well.”

Brambleclaw looked confused. “Vet?”

“The Cutter,” Graystripe explained.

“Well, it seems the Cutter has done me a favor,” Firestar meowed. “He has given me a healthy warrior.”

Firestar had called Millie a warrior.

Pleasure glowed from the she-cat, and Jaypaw heard Graystripe’s proud purr as his fur swished against hers.

“But,” Firestar went on, “I don’t want Graystripe to go with you.”

Graystripe’s purr died in his throat. “Why not?”

“You’re still weak from your journey,” Firestar replied.

“And I can’t afford to lose you again. There are plenty of ways you can help in camp.” The ThunderClan leader’s voice was firm, and though Jaypaw felt Graystripe bristle with indignation, he did not challenge his old friend.

The yew bush quivered as Hollypaw and Lionpaw slid out of their den. Anxiously Jaypaw lifted his muzzle to taste their scent. He relaxed when it was clean and healthy.

“We want to go on the first patrol,” Lionpaw mewed.

“Unless the Clan needs us in camp,” Hollypaw added.

“Firestar?” Brambleclaw looked to the ThunderClan leader to decide.

Firestar swept his tail thoughtfully over the ground.

“Lionpaw, you can patrol the border with Ashfur and Millie,” he meowed. “Hollypaw can hunt with Birchfall.”

“I’ll do my best,” Hollypaw promised.

Jaypaw padded over to her. “Make sure you stay away from the sick cats,” he warned. “Don’t share fresh-kill with any cat.” He glanced at Lionpaw. “And drink water as far from the camp as you can.” How would he cope if he had to watch them suffer along with his other patients? If only they had more catmint!

“Come on, Hollypaw!” Birchfall’s call was edgy with impatience, and she shot away to join him.

“We’ll join the hunt as soon as we’ve checked the border!”

Ashfur called after them as they raced out of the camp.

“Don’t tire yourselves out,” Firestar warned.

“We won’t.” Lionpaw raced away from Jaypaw and pounded out of the camp behind his mentor.

A dark sense of dread pulsed across the clearing and swept Jaypaw like an icy wind. He jerked his head around and stared at Firestar. He’s terrified for us.

Paws hammered outside the thorn barrier. Squirrelflight and Sandstorm were returning to camp. Jaypaw smelled fresh-kill. They had been hunting.

“Is that all you could find?” Firestar’s greeting was sharp with shock.

A mouse and a sparrow. Jaypaw heard the two small bodies drop onto the empty space where the fresh-kill pile used to be.

“Shall we go out again?” Squirrelflight offered.

“Rest first,” Firestar meowed. “Birchfall and Hollypaw are hunting, too.”

His pelt swished as he wove around Sandstorm. Jaypaw sensed that her touch soothed some of the anxiety pounding through his body. The smell of fresh-kill made his belly rumble; he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. But Icekit and Foxkit needed food more than he did.

“Shall I take the mouse to the nursery?” he called to Firestar.

“Yes, please—” Firestar’s answer was cut short by a rustling on the slope outside the thorn barrier. Jaypaw tensed. He smelled WindClan.

Firestar padded to the entrance and sniffed the air.

“There’s only two of them,” Jaypaw called. He did not recognize the scents of the two WindClan cats who were padding toward the entrance of the hollow, but he sensed their anxiety as they padded into the camp.

The older of the two cats spoke first. “Forgive us for trespassing on ThunderClan territory.”

“Weaselfur!” Firestar sounded surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Jaypaw padded closer. The younger cat smelled of herbs.

“I’ve brought Kestrelpaw to speak with Leafpool,” Weaselfur meowed.

Kestrelpaw! Jaypaw remembered Barkface mentioning his apprentice when they had traveled to the Moonpool.

“Hi, there,” he called.

Kestrelpaw was fidgeting nervously, kneading the ground.

“Are you Jaypaw?” he asked. “I need to speak to your mentor.”

Leafpool was already out of her den and padding toward Kestrelpaw. “What is it?”

“There’s greencough in WindClan,” Kestrelpaw mewed.

“Barkface was hoping you could share your catmint.”

Leafpool sighed. “We have none. The frost killed it. We have sick cats too, and there’s nothing we can do to help them.”

Squirrelflight padded to join her sister. “RiverClan have catmint,” she meowed. “They would share it with us, wouldn’t they?”

“I’ve wondered about that,” Leafpool meowed.

Jaypaw’s tail bristled. Why hadn’t she mentioned it before?