Mistystar's Omen (6 page)

The apprentices clawed out Pouncetail's and Dapplenose's old bedding and replaced it with Robinwing's fresh supply. Then they joined their Clanmates at the fresh-kill pile, as the cats divided up the prey. Mistystar noticed that Hollowpaw and Rushpaw only shared a tiny minnow between them. Were they feeling guilty for not pulling their weight properly that morning? She sighed. Whatever they had been up to, she didn't want any of her Clanmates punishing themselves with further hunger.

She looked at the rocks that guarded the medicine cats' den. Willowshine and Mothwing seemed to be avoiding Mistystar as much as they could. Was Willowshine even watching out for omens? Or was StarClan ignoring them after all?

Chapter 7

A run of stormy days kept
the RiverClan cats confined to their camp; none of them minded getting their fur wet by choice when it came to swimming, but they hated torrential rain as much as any Clan. At last the wind eased and the rain lightened to a fur-flattening drizzle. Mistystar and Reedwhisker stood on the rocks at the edge of the lake and stared into the water. It was slightly clearer than before, and one or two tiny silver shapes darted about in the shadows, but there were still no large fish such as trout or carp.

“Is it worth fishing today?” Pebblefoot called, crunching over the stones toward them.

Reedwhisker shook his head. “Not unless you want to chase minnows again. Oh, I meant to tell you that Hollowpaw and Rushpaw asked if they could do some battle training on their own today. They know their assessments are coming up and they wanted to practice the crouch-and-leap technique we taught them.”

Pebblefoot looked surprised. “I didn't realize they were taking the assessments so seriously. I sometimes wonder if Rushpaw wants to go straight to the elders' den when he reaches twelve moons. I've never met an apprentice who is so good at finding shortcuts to getting things done!”

Mistystar snorted. “Perhaps he'll just be a very efficient warrior.” She headed back up the shore, and the two warriors fell in beside her. “We can't keep waiting for the big fish to return,” she mewed quietly before they reached the camp. “And our territory isn't big enough to provide enough land prey to support us all. We'll have to think about expanding upstream.”

“It does seem like the only option,” Pebblefoot agreed. “Hunting patrols have already caught a few birds in the reeds just beyond the border. Do you think we should go even farther?”

Mistystar nodded. “I'll take a patrol that way myself today. I don't want to announce the expansion to the whole Clan yet, but every cat knows we are running out of food.”

“Would you like me to come too?” Reedwhisker offered.

“No, thank you. I want you to lead a patrol along the border with WindClan and renew those scent markers, just in case they're still waiting for us to cross over again. And Pebblefoot, will you take a hunting patrol onto the marshes?” The senior warriors nodded.

Back in the clearing, Reedwhisker started selecting cats for his and Pebblefoot's patrol while Mistystar looked around for warriors to accompany her upstream. She was just about to call out to Grasspelt when Mothwing approached. Mistystar felt her fur bristle.
Why am I so hostile? Mothwing used to be my friend!

Mothwing's blue eyes looked troubled. “Do you know where Hollowpaw and Rushpaw are?” she asked.

“They're practicing for their assessment,” Mistystar told her.

“Are you sure? I heard them telling Mossypaw and Troutpaw that they had found something none of the warriors knew about, but they couldn't say what it was because it was a big secret. Do you think they're up to something?”

For a moment Mistystar longed to be able to talk openly to Mothwing, like they had done so many times before.
I always thought we would lead our Clan together!
But Mothwing had kept a bigger secret than anything the apprentices might be hiding, and Mistystar couldn't see how they could find a way back to how things used to be. “They were probably just showing off,” she told Mothwing. “Don't worry about them.” She sounded more dismissive than she had intended, and Mothwing shrank back as if she had been hit.

“I just thought I should let you know,” she mewed. She turned and walked away before Mistystar could say anything else.

Mistystar forced herself to concentrate on the upstream patrol. “Grasspelt! Could you come over here? Bring Icewing and Mintfur!”

The three warriors trotted over. They bristled with excitement when Mistystar told them that they would be exploring beyond the border.

“It makes sense, if we don't have enough prey around the camp,” Grasspelt meowed.

“Do you want us to set border marks?” asked Icewing.

“Not yet,” mewed Mistystar. “I don't know how far we'll get today. We're just looking for hunting possibilities at the moment.”

They left the clearing and picked their way down to the edge of the narrow stream. As Duskfur had said, the shore was muddy and slippery from the recent rain, and Mistystar felt her paws sink deeper with every step. The cats clung to the bank and scrambled through the long grass until they emerged from the trees that enclosed RiverClan's territory. Just beneath their feet, the stream was swollen and fast-flowing, impossible to fish in even if the cats wanted to. Mistystar clawed her way along the steep slope, keeping her head below the top of the bank. Her fur was soon slicked with reddish-brown mud, and her paws kept slipping. Behind her, Icewing fared better because she was more lightly built and seemed able to leap between patches of less sodden grass. Her denmate Grasspelt plodded grimly along at the rear, cursing under his breath every time he lost his footing.

At last Mistystar's pads were so clogged with wet soil that she couldn't keep a grip on the bank any longer. She scrambled up to the top and peered over the edge. Huge expanses of flat land, rippling with dark green grass, stretched away on both sides of the stream. Feeling very exposed under the vast gray sky, Mistystar reared up on her hind legs and peered over the stems. The stretch of grass ended at a row of cloud-colored Twoleg dens, three of them side by side with dark-leaved plants growing up the walls. As Mistystar stared, she spotted a flash of movement beside one of the dens, a blur of gray-brown fur.

“Kittypets!” growled Grasspelt beside her. “Two of them, by the looks of it.”

A second shape had joined the other; then both vanished around the side of the den.

“If there are other cats around, there might be less prey for us out here,” Icewing warned. Her fur stood on end, and she was clearly uncomfortable about being so far outside their territory in such an open, unprotected place.

Mistystar lifted her muzzle and sniffed the air. “I can't smell any trace of them,” she commented. “Wouldn't kittypets be too lazy to come all the way over here if they have enough slop to eat from their Twolegs?”

“Probably,” grunted Grasspelt. He started nosing through the grass, his ears pricking. “This way!” he whispered over his shoulder.

Mistystar and Icewing tracked him along the edge of the grass to a bramble thicket that hung over the bank of the stream. Grasspelt slowed down as they approached the brambles, lowering his belly until it almost hung on the ground, before he plunged forward with both front paws outstretched. The air was split with squeals; Mistystar and Icewing raced up to see him looming over a nest of young, hairless mice. They dove in, killing the baby mice with swift, careful blows so as not to spoil the delicate bodies.

When everything was quiet, they stood back and looked down at the instant fresh-kill pile. “That was a good find,” Mistystar praised Grasspelt.

Her Clanmate shrugged. “It's hardly enough to replace a lake full of fish.”

“But it's a start,” mewed Icewing. She scooped up the mice, gathering the tails in her teeth. The others helped her, and they began to make their way back down the stream, holding their prey out of the mud as they struggled to keep their footing.

Back in the camp, their Clanmates fell hungrily on their catch. “Mice are almost as yummy as trout!” Podkit declared, munching a soft, pink ear.

There were enough mice for every cat to have half each. Mistystar watched her Clanmates eating and felt a surge of satisfaction. Perhaps hunting farther upstream would be the answer until the fish came back. She looked up at the sky, wondering if her warrior ancestors agreed.
If Mothwing can't hear you, could you send a sign to Willowshine instead?

She became aware of raised voices at the edge of the fresh-kill pile. “You can't have another one, Mossypaw,” Reedwhisker was saying. “Hollowpaw and Rushpaw haven't had theirs yet.”

“They should be here, then!” Mossypaw argued.

“Here they come,” mewed Graymist. The two apprentices were trotting through the entrance.

“Look!” called Mallownose. “Fresh mice!”

“Great,” mewed Hollowpaw, sounding less than excited.

“How was your battle practice?” Mistystar asked. She watched the young cats closely, mindful of what Mothwing had said about their private boasting.

“Really good!” Rushpaw meowed.

“I was the best,” Hollowpaw declared.

“Where did you go?” Mistystar put in.

Rushpaw looked surprised. “Oh, you know that elderflower bush by the holly tree? There's a clear space under there that is just right for battle training.”

“Excellent,” Mistystar murmured. She was beginning to feel guilty about quizzing them. “Reedwhisker saved a mouse for you.”

The apprentices exchanged a glance. “We're not hungry right now,” mewed Hollowpaw. “Is it okay if we have it later?”

“Yes, of course.” Mistystar turned away but looked back over her shoulder. “And well done for working so hard. I know things aren't easy at the moment, but I'm proud of you for keeping up with your training.”

Rushpaw twitched his tail. “We're just doing what any loyal cat would do,” he insisted. “You can count on us, Mistystar.”

Chapter 8

Keeping her weight balanced over her
haunches so that she didn't tip forward and fall in, Mistystar sliced her paw through the water. Her claws sank into the minnow's narrow body and she flicked it triumphantly onto the rock beside her. The tiny fish flapped for a moment before lying still.

“Nicely done!” called a voice, making Mistystar look up in surprise.

Beetlewhisker was watching her from the top of the shore. His brown-and-white fur stood out sharply against the gray stones.

“It's still not much more than a mouthful,” Mistystar pointed out, glancing down at her catch in disappointment. Reedwhisker had taken a patrol upstream that morning in search of more prey outside the territory, but Mistystar had wanted to check for herself the state of the lake.

“At least the big fish are coming back!” Beetlewhisker purred.

Mistystar put her head on one side. “They are?”

Beetlewhisker nodded. “Oh, yes. I saw a huge trout yesterday, longer than my tail. Mothwing told me to leave it alone, though.”

“She did?”

“Yes, to give the lake a chance to build up its stocks again. She said we should let the bigger fish build up their numbers and breed again before we start catching them.”

Mistystar felt her mouth fall open. “She didn't mention this to me.”

Beetlewhisker blinked. “Well, maybe she thought you'd feel the same?” He sounded uncomfortable, and Mistystar felt sorry for challenging him. He wasn't the cat she needed to speak to about this. She stood up and picked up her minnow.

“I'd better add this to the fresh-kill pile,” she meowed. “See you later, Beetlewhisker.”

She left the warrior standing rather unhappily on the shore, and threaded back through the ferns to the camp. She dropped her fish onto the pile and went to the medicine cats' den. Mothwing was inside alone, doing something complicated with a heap of leaves.

“Why did you tell Beetlewhisker not to catch the trout?” Mistystar demanded.

Mothwing looked up. “Because we want to let the lake recover first,” she meowed. “What's the point of taking all of the big fish as soon as they appear?”

“That should have been my decision,” Mistystar insisted. She knew she was being stubborn—Mothwing had a fair point—but she couldn't help feeling that she was being deliberately undermined.

“You weren't there!” Mothwing pointed out. “And I'm allowed to have an opinion, aren't I?” There was a hint of challenge in her gaze, which made Mistystar bristle even more.

“You know what? I'm not sure anymore! Not after lying to the Clan about StarClan!”

“I didn't lie!” Mothwing flashed back.

“By letting us believe you could be our medicine cat, you did.”

Mothwing stared at her. “Are you saying you don't trust me to do anything?”

Mistystar felt her tail droop. “I don't think I do,” she murmured. “Everything's going wrong, the Clan is still hungry, and I need StarClan to know that they can send us signs at any time.”

“Willowshine will tell you if she sees a sign.”

“Will she really? Or is her loyalty to you too strong?” Mistystar suddenly felt very tired. “Please accept that you can no longer be a medicine cat, Mothwing. Before StarClan gives up on us completely.”

Mothwing curled her tail over her back and padded out of the den. “Just because I don't believe in StarClan, Mistystar, you don't have to give up your faith in them,” she whispered on her way past.

As Mistystar followed Mothwing away from the rocks, she heard a small commotion beside the fresh-kill pile. Mossypaw was bickering with Troutpaw over who should have the last piece of squirrel.
At least they're getting a taste for land prey,
Mistystar thought. She didn't have the energy to sort out the apprentices' quarrel, so she headed for the entrance and pushed her way into the middle of the territory, where the bushes grew most densely. It was quiet and sheltered under here, and she found a patch of dry leaves to lie down on.

She listened to the leaves on the holly tree rattling in the breeze, and watched a few late elderflower petals drift down in front of her. Something stirred in her mind. Hadn't Rushpaw described a place under an elderflower bush next to a holly tree where he and Hollowpaw had practiced their battle techniques? Mistystar looked around. Holly trees weren't common in their territory, and she was pretty sure there wasn't another one so close to an elder bush. But the ground was smooth and the layer of fallen leaves undisturbed; there had been no fighting here for a long while. Had Rushpaw lied?

Mistystar shrugged. She'd question where the apprentices were again later. Whatever they were up to, it could wait. She closed her eyes and pictured her Clanmates roaming across the marsh and up the stream in search of food. Was Beetlewhisker right? Were the trout really coming back to the lake? And if so, would her warriors be able to resist catching them until the water was fully stocked?

Mistystar felt warm breath on her ear, and a familiar, heartbreaking scent wreathed around her. “There are more sources of prey than the lake,” whispered a voice. Mistystar whirled around, peering into the shadows.

“Stonefur? Are you there?”

There was nothing but silence. But Stonefur had visited her! StarClan was still watching them.
We are going to survive!
Mistystar thought joyously.

Suddenly the branches crashed and Reedwhisker burst through the bushes. “Mistystar! Come quickly! Hollowpaw and Rushpaw are in trouble!”

Mistystar leaped up. “Where are they?”

Reedwhisker skidded to a halt, his expression grim. “By the Twoleg dens.”

Mistystar didn't ask for an explanation. She just followed her deputy at a sprint through the bushes, down to the stream, and along the muddy bank that led out of their territory.
What in the name of StarClan are Hollowpaw and Rushpaw doing there? They weren't part of Reedwhisker's patrol.

Reedwhisker clawed his way to the top of the bank with Mistystar close behind him, and the two cats stood panting on the vast stretch of grass. Reedwhisker pointed with his tail. “Mallownose, Graymist, and Robinwing are by the boundary; can you see?”

Mistystar narrowed her eyes against the wind. She could just make out the pale-furred shapes of her Clanmates crouching by the long wall of stones that marked the edge of the field. “Where are the apprentices?”

“On the other side of the wall, by the Twoleg den. They're trapped in a corner by a pair of dogs.” Reedwhisker glanced at Mistystar. “It looks pretty dangerous.”

“We have to get them out!” Mistystar exclaimed.

“Of course,” Reedwhisker meowed. “I just wanted to warn you, that's all.”

But Mistystar was already tearing over the grass, leaping high with each stride to avoid being caught in the dense stalks. Reedwhisker caught up to her with a few bounds, and they raced side by side to the wall where the others were waiting.

“Are the dogs still there?” Reedwhisker demanded.

Graymist nodded, her eyes huge and her fur fluffed up. Mistystar jumped on top of the wall. She almost fell off again when she saw the two huge black-and-brown dogs snarling at the edge of the Twoleg den. Cowering under a tiny stone ledge were the RiverClan apprentices.

“Help, help!” shrieked Hollowpaw as one of the dogs thrust its muzzle under the ledge.

“Get back, you brute!” Rushpaw hissed, and Mistystar saw one of his paws flash out, catching the dog on its nose. The dog merely shook its head and curled its lip again. Twin strands of drool hung from its jaws.

“Great StarClan,” Mistystar whispered.

Reedwhisker appeared beside her on the wall. “You and the others distract the dogs,” he meowed. “I'll go along that fence”—he gestured with his tail to a narrow wooden barrier running from the wall to the Twoleg den—“and lead Hollowpaw and Rushpaw out.”

“It's too far for you to go on your own!” Mistystar gasped, studying the distance between the wooden fence and the tiny ledge of stone.

“The apprentices won't come out on their own,” Reedwhisker meowed. “You have to trust me, Mistystar.”

Mistystar gazed at her son. “I do trust you,” she mewed. “Just be careful, please.”

“I will,” Reedwhisker promised. “I value my pelt even more than you do,” he teased over his shoulder as he turned to the warriors crouching below. “Come up here!” he called. Graymist, Mallownose, and Robinwing scrambled onto the wall and balanced beside Mistystar. Reedwhisker started to trot along the top of the stones. “When I'm almost at the Twoleg den, make some noise!” he ordered.

“Are you going to let him do this?” Graymist whispered to Mistystar.

“We don't have a choice,” Mistystar replied grimly.
Oh, StarClan, please watch over him!

The cats watched in silence as Reedwhisker picked his way along the narrow strip of wood. His black pelt looked like a shadow as he crept noiselessly closer to the Twoleg den. When he was less than a fox-length away, Mistystar lifted her head.

“Dog-breath!” she screeched. “Over here, you foulmouthed creatures!”

One of the dogs spun around, its hackles raised. It barked, and the other dog turned to join it.

“Scared of us, are you?” taunted Mallownose.

“Come on, flea-pelts! Pick on someone your own size!” yowled Robinwing.

The dogs took a pace toward the wall. Behind them, Mistystar saw Hollowpaw and Rushpaw peep out from under the ledge. They looked as tiny as kits, and even more vulnerable.

“Too scared to come any closer?” jeered Graymist, standing on her toes. “We'll give you a proper fight!”

The dogs sprang forward, crossing the short, muddy grass in a few strides. Mistystar gripped the stone tightly to keep herself from fleeing. At the far end of the wooden fence, Reedwhisker jumped down and raced along the side of the Twoleg den to where the apprentices were hiding.

“Come on!” Mistystar heard him call. “This way, quick!”

Hollowpaw and Rushpaw started to creep out from underneath the ledge.
Faster, faster,
Mistystar willed them.

In the brief silence, the dogs' attention had turned away from the cats on the wall. One of them swung its massive head back toward the Twoleg den. When it saw the three cats outlined sharply against the pale gray stone, it let out a growl. With a mad scrabble of gigantic paws, the dogs whirled around and started to hurtle back toward Reedwhisker and the apprentices.

“No!” screeched Mistystar. Without thinking, she leaped down behind the dogs. “Come back here! Take me instead!”

“Get back to the wall!” yowled Reedwhisker, who had reached the apprentices and was standing in front of them, shielding them with his tail.

“Run!” Mistystar hollered. She was almost at the dogs' heels now; mud was splashing into her face from their racing paws, and she was almost knocked off her feet by one of their thick-furred tails. She sprang up and grabbed the end of the tail in her teeth. At once the dog skidded to a halt, jerking Mistystar forward. She braced herself and sank her teeth deeper into the fleshy tail. The dog circled, and Mistystar found herself being dragged sideways.

“Let go, Mistystar!” she heard Mallownose shout from the wall. Mistystar gritted her teeth and clung on. She could feel the dog's breath hot on her neck and the stench was enough to make her gag, but she knew she couldn't let go.

There was a rapid pounding of paws, and suddenly Graymist and Robinwing were beside her, rearing up on their hind legs to slash at the dog. With a yelp, it jumped backward. Mistystar lost her grip and stumbled onto her knees. Graymist shoved her up to her feet, and the three cats raced back to the wall.

“Where's Mallownose?” Mistystar yowled, realizing that the top of the stones was empty.

“Helping Reedwhisker,” Graymist panted.

Mistystar whirled around and saw the light brown warrior clinging to the back of the other dog, distracting it while Reedwhisker pushed Hollowpaw and Rushpaw up to the top of the fence. As soon as the apprentices were clear, Mallownose sprang from the dog's shoulders onto the fence beside them. The narrow strip of wood shuddered and buckled as the three cats clung on.

“Reedwhisker! Watch out!” Mistystar shrieked. The deputy was crouching down, waiting for the fence to stop shaking before he jumped up. Both of the dogs leaped at him, jaws bared, drool flying from their cheeks. They landed with a thud and a dreadful tearing sound. Reedwhisker let out a shriek of pain that tore Mistystar's heart in two.

“Reedwhisker! No!”