Erin Hunter - Dovewing’s Silence

“Good catch!” Dovewing mewed.

Ivypool put her head on one side. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear the squirrel coming down the tree,” she purred. “It almost landed on your head! Have you got moss in your ears?”

Dovewing felt hot with embarrassment. “I… I was following a mouse trail.”

Her sister stood up and started scraping leaf mulch over her prey. “Better go and catch it then!” she meowed, but there was a note of tension in her voice that Dovewing didn’t miss. Has Ivypool realized that I’m losing my powers?

She marched into the bracken, feeling a sense of relief as the fronds closed up behind her. She soon picked up the scent of mouse again and caught the little creature as it nibbled on a seed pod. “Thank you, StarClan, for bringing food to us,” she murmured over the tiny brown body.

She hunted around for another trace of prey but hadn’t found anything by the time Lionblaze called them back to the path. A pigeon lay at his paws and Cinderheart stood beside him with a pair of baby voles in her mouth. Dovewing felt embarrassed by her puny contribution, especially when Ivypool puffed her way out of the bracken, dragging the squirrel.

Lionblaze nodded approvingly. “If the weather’s turning colder, we need all the fresh-kill we can get,” he meowed. “Good work, everyone.”

They headed back to the camp. Lionblaze fell behind even though the muscles on his shoulders were tense with the effort of not limping. Dovewing slowed to keep level with him. When Cinderheart and Ivypool had vanished around a corner, she put down her mouse and turned to face the golden tabby.

“Lionblaze, I need to talk to you.”

Reluctantly, he put down his pigeon and waited.

Dovewing took a deep breath. “Do you think we’re losing our powers?” Ignoring the flash of anger in his eyes, she kept going. “I can’t hear or see like I used to. You’ve been injured by a tree root, for StarClan’s sake! And Jayfeather seems really scared of something. Could he be losing the power to walk in other cats’ dreams?”

Lionblaze drew one massive paw over the pale-feathered breast of the dead pigeon. “The Great Battle took a lot out of all of us,” he meowed. “None of us know how long it will take to recover.”

“But this isn’t a battle wound!” Dovewing protested. “This is something else, something that has changed inside me! I can’t describe it exactly, but I know I’m different.”

Lionblaze kept his gaze fixed on the bird at his feet. “Talk to Jayfeather if you’re worried. He knows more about this than we do. We’re part of a prophecy, remember? I don’t see how that could change.”

Dovewing wanted to challenge him but he picked up the pigeon, making it clear their conversation was over. Lurching awkwardly on his infected paw, he trotted along the path and vanished into the bracken. Dovewing scooped up her mouse and followed, letting her tail trail miserably in the dirt.

“Jayfeather!” Dovewing shivered as a cold gust of wind whipped up her fur at the foot of the cliff. She moved closer to the bramble fronds as if they offered some shelter. “Jayfeather, I have to talk to you!”

“Really? Right now?” came the impatient reply.

Dovewing braced herself. “Yes, now.”

“You’d better come in then. But don’t touch anything!”

She pushed through the brambles and stopped, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light inside the cave. The sandy floor was covered with piles of herbs, some fresh and green-smelling, others wizened and dried into tiny black curls. Jayfeather was crouched beside Foxleap, who lay on his side in a moss-lined nest, his eyes closed. The medicine cat was peeling a dressing of leaves away from the warrior’s belly.

Dovewing took a step back. The stench that came from the wound was overpowering. “Great StarClan!” she whispered.

“Exactly,” Jayfeather commented dryly. Without moving his head, he reached out with one paw and expertly scooped up a wad of recently chewed leaves. “What do you want?” he muttered as he began to press the leaves against the open pus-filled wound.

Dovewing tried not to gag. “Can Foxleap feel that?” she asked.

“StarClan be thanked, no,” Jayfeather replied. “I keep him dosed with poppyseeds to make him sleep, and he rarely stirs. I want him to stay like this until the wound starts to heal. Is something wrong, Dovewing? As you can see, I’m quite busy. Leafpool’s out collecting herbs, since Brightheart is taking care of Sorreltail’s kits in the nursery, and Briarlight has gone into the forest with Daisy to stretch her legs.”

Dovewing moved closer. “I think something has happened to me since the Great Battle,” she began. “My senses have changed. I mean, they’re gone. I can see and hear like other cats, but that’s all. And Lionblaze has injured his paw, which never used to happen. So I wanted to know if you had noticed anything different about your powers.”

Jayfeather froze, his paws motionless on Foxleap’s injury. Then his ears twitched. “Dovewing, this can wait. Let me do my duty to Foxleap, and to the other cats that need me to treat them. You’re not in pain, are you?”

Dovewing shook her head, until she remembered that Jayfeather couldn’t see her. “No,” she meowed.

“Then I don’t see how I can help you. I have to concentrate on my responsibilities to this Clan.” His voice rose and one of his front paws curled up in anger. “Foxleap cannot die! We have lost too many cats already! Why does StarClan keep punishing us like this?”

Dovewing stared at the medicine cat in shock. “You can’t say that! We defeated the Dark Forest cats! We won the battle!”

“Really?” snarled Jayfeather. “It doesn’t feel that way to me. All I’ve done is watch my Clanmates die because there was nothing I could do to help them.”

“You can’t bring cats back to life,” Dovewing whispered.

“Then what is the use of having any power at all?” Jayfeather hissed. He bent closer to Foxleap’s belly, running his paw over the dressing. “Go away, Dovewing. Talk to me when I’m not trying to save a warrior’s life. Right now, there is nothing more important than that.”

Dovewing staggered out of the cave and stood at the edge of the clearing, letting the wind cool her scorched pelt. Something was terribly wrong with Jayfeather, that was for sure. Was it simply that the Clan had lost so many cats? Or did he know something about their powers?

“Dovewing?” called a voice from the elder thicket. It was Purdy, peering through rheumy eyes. Now that the nursery had been repaired, Daisy and Brightheart had taken the kits out of the elders’ den. “I think I’ve got a tick on my back, an’ I can’t reach it,” the old tom grumbled.

“Okay, I’ll take a look,” Dovewing mewed. With so few apprentices in the camp, the warriors were sharing duties among themselves. Dovewing knew it was Berrynose’s turn to deal with Purdy but he was out on patrol, and since she was here, she wasn’t going to refuse to help. She followed the tom into the den and waited for him to settle stiffly in his nest.

“Oh, that chill’s got into my bones,” he griped as he folded his legs under him.

“Do you want me to find some feathers for your nest?” Dovewing offered.

Purdy blinked. “Only if you’ve got time. I know you’re all stretched, with so many cats still recoverin’.”

Dovewing ran her paw over his bony spine, searching for the tick. “Most of us are okay now. Only Foxleap is still in danger.” Purdy grunted as she rubbed against the tick. “Found it!” she declared. “I’ll put some mouse bile on that and it’ll be gone in a flash.” She started to leave but Purdy beckoned her back with his chin.