Warriors Super Edition: Yellowfang’s Secret (31 page)

“I will watch over you,” the StarClan cat assured her. “Whatever choices you make, you are not alone. I have faith in you—in your decisions and your destiny.”

As she spoke, she began to fade away, the outlines of her body lost in a glitter of starshine.

“Don’t go!” Yellowfang called.

But Silverflame had vanished, and a heartbeat later Yellowfang opened her eyes to find herself back in the cave of the Moonstone, with the other medicine cats dreaming beside her. She stood up and backed away from the Moonstone, shaking out her fur. She had escaped the terrible dreams of her last visit, but her meeting with Silverflame had been a long way from what she expected.
Am I really expected to make my choices alone, without the guidance of StarClan?
Yet Silverflame had said she had faith in Yellowfang. If she doubted herself, she would be letting Silverflame down.
I will make you proud of me,
Yellowfang vowed to her beloved former Clanmate.
You’ll see!

Yellowfang teased out a bundle of cobwebs and began hanging them on the thorns to dry. She had been a medicine cat apprentice for five sunrises, and she felt pleased that Sagewhisker had approved her suggestion of what to do with the webs. A sudden pain stabbed into her paw. At first she thought she had picked up one of the thorns from the bush, but when she looked at her pads they were unmarked.

Another cat, then
.

Yellowfang turned to see Finchflight limping between the boulders, one forepaw held in the air. She almost called out,
You’ve stepped on a thorn, haven’t you?
before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to know about wounds until the injured cat told her.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

Finchflight glanced around. “I was looking for Sagewhisker,” he told her, then added doubtfully, “but you’re a medicine cat apprentice now, so I suppose you’ll do.”

Thanks for your confidence,
Yellowfang thought.

She winced as Finchflight hobbled forward and held out his paw for her inspection. Then she recalled talking to Sagewhisker about blocking out her feelings, and made herself aware of her own paws.
They’re all fine. I have no thorns
.
I can feel smooth earth underneath my pads, nothing else
. The pain from Finchflight faded; Yellowfang was still aware of it, but only as a faint trace in the background of her mind.
It worked! Now I can examine Finchflight’s paw without my own pain getting in the way
.

As soon as she examined the black-and-white tom’s pad, Yellowfang saw the tip of the thorn just peeking out. “That looks bad,” she mewed. “It must hurt a lot.”

“It’s a nuisance,” Finchflight replied, shrugging. “I was supposed to go out on patrol. Brackenfoot is leading a raid on Carrionplace, to hunt rats.”

Yellowfang shivered, remembering the time that she had taken part in the last rat raid. “It’s too bad you can’t go,” she agreed. “Brackenfoot will need every cat.”

She had seen Sagewhisker removing thorns before, so she knew what to do. She licked Finchflight’s paw thoroughly around the shank of the thorn, then tried to catch it in her teeth. But it was driven in deeply, and Yellowfang accidentally closed her teeth on the soft part of Finchflight’s pad.

Finchflight leaped back with a yowl, and Yellowfang felt his pain flood into her own paw again. “I’m sorry!” she gasped.

To her relief, Sagewhisker appeared in the entrance to the den. “What’s all this?” the medicine cat asked.

Quickly Yellowfang explained.

“I’ll take over now,” Sagewhisker meowed with a nod. “But you did exactly the right thing, Yellowfang.”

“Not when she bit me!” Finchflight growled.

Once Sagewhisker had extracted the thorn and sent Finchflight to catch up with his patrol, she turned to Yellowfang. “The thing is not to rush,” she advised. “Just keep licking. If you press your tongue on the outside of the pad around the thorn, it will often come out a little bit, and then you can grab it more easily.”

“Thanks,” Yellowfang mewed. “I’ll remember that.”

Sagewhisker hesitated, then asked, “How did the pain blocking go?”

“It worked really well,” Yellowfang replied. “I had it under control until I bit Finchflight, and then I couldn’t concentrate on keeping out that pain as well.”

Sagewhisker rested her tail-tip comfortingly on Yellowfang’s shoulder. “It will take time,” she murmured. “Just keep trying.”

The sun was rising above the trees as Yellowfang padded across to the nursery to check on Cloudkit. He was obviously in perfect health, wriggling around in the nursery and jumping on pretend mice. “I’m going to be the best hunter in ShadowClan!” he announced.

“I’m sure you will,” Nettlespot purred, looking down at her kit. “He’s completely better,” she added to Yellowfang, who was aware of the new note of respect in her tone. “That willow cured him, just like you said. And he’s grown so much in this last quarter moon!”

“I’m glad,” Yellowfang began. “He should—”

She broke off at the sound of yowls from the camp entrance. At the same moment a wave of pain flooded over her: sharp stabbing wounds as well as the dull ache of scratches.

“What’s that?” Nettlespot yelped, sitting up in alarm and drawing Cloudkit close to her with her tail.

Within a heartbeat Yellowfang forced herself to concentrate on the lack of injuries to her own body, until the pain eased.
I am not hurt. The pain is not mine
. Once she had it under control, she hurried out of the nursery. Sagewhisker had just appeared from her own den. Side by side she and Yellowfang bounded across the camp to meet the returning cats. Yellowfang could hear the blood rushing in her ears.

My Clanmates are wounded! But I am their medicine cat: I can help them!

Brackenfoot and Deerleap hurtled out of
the tunnel with Toadskip, Scorchwind, Rowanberry, and Finchflight hard on their paws. Yellowfang could see that all of them bore scratches and bitemarks.

“What happened?” Sagewhisker demanded.

“The rats happened,” Scorchwind growled.

Rowanberry shuddered. “So many rats!”

The rest of the Clan was emerging from their dens, clustering around and asking the same question. Eventually the returning patrol settled down in the middle of the clearing, with their Clanmates crowding around them. Cedarstar came out of his den, followed by Stonetooth, and joined them. Yellowfang found a place to sit next to Rowanberry and pricked her ears to listen.

“No.” Sagewhisker gave her a nudge. “We have to go around and check the injuries at the same time. Assess every cat, then treat the most seriously wounded first. I’ll fetch the herbs we need.”

Feeling embarrassed that she hadn’t realized that, Yellowfang jumped up and followed her mentor.

Meanwhile, Brackenfoot explained what had happened. “As you know, we went to hunt along the edge of Carrionplace. At first everything went well. Rowanberry caught a huge rat.” He gave the young warrior a nod of approval. “But then hordes of rats started pouring out of those stinking heaps and attacked us. You’ve never seen so many rats!”

“But rats are prey!” Newtspeck exclaimed. “Prey doesn’t fight back.”

“These rats do,” Brackenfoot responded. He shook his head; Yellowfang could sense his shame and embarrassment, and saw that the rest of his patrol shared it. “We had to flee,” he added. “There were too many for us to fight.”

“You did the right thing,” Cedarstar meowed, standing up to speak. “What good would it have done your Clan if you had been killed or seriously wounded? The good news is that there are plenty of rats. We just have to work out the best way to overpower them.”

No warrior spoke up, but Yellowfang could see that all the Clan was thinking hard, murmuring to one another as they worked out what they might do.

Nettlespot leaned closer to Toadskip. “You can’t go risking your life when you have your son, Cloudkit, to think about,” she told him.

Poolcloud, who was sitting close by, swiveled her head to look at Nettlespot. “Toadskip is the father of my kits, too,” she snapped. “But I wouldn’t dream of telling a warrior not to fight.”

Stonetooth distracted them by rising to his paws. “As I see it,” he began, “the problem is how to catch some rats without attracting the attention of the rest of them.”

Amberleaf raised her tail. “Just send one or two warriors at a time?” she suggested.

“Or hunt at night, in darkness?” Mousewing put in.

“Maybe we should wait for the wind to blow in the right direction,” Hollyflower added. “So it would hide our scent as we creep up?”

Sagewhisker appeared beside Yellowfang with her jaws full of herbs. “So where do we start?” she asked after setting down the dusty bundle.

“Scorchwind has a deep bite,” Yellowfang reported. “That’s the worst wound; it could become infected. Rowanberry has some mild scratches, and Brackenfoot has some claw marks that look sore.”

“No need to fuss about me,” Brackenfoot meowed, catching what his daughter said. “I’ve taken much worse wounds in my time.”

“I’ll fuss about you all I want,” Yellowfang responded tartly. “You’ll have some dock leaf to soothe the soreness, and like it.”

Brackenfoot dipped his head; Yellowfang caught a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Very well, medicine cat,” he purred.

As Yellowfang padded around treating the wounds and keeping her pain under careful control, she noticed Raggedpelt sitting at the edge of the crowd, his amber eyes smoldering. Now he stepped forward. “Are we not warriors?” he demanded, glaring around at his Clanmates. “We are proud, afraid of no enemy, trained to fight in any battle! We will not skulk like dogs around these rats, hiding under cover of darkness, or fleeing like foxes when they bare their teeth. They are
rats
!
Prey! Fresh-kill!
We will not be scared!”

A murmur of excitement rose from the cats around him. Raggedpelt crouched down and began to score lines in the frozen earth of the camp floor. “Look! Here’s Carrionplace. This is the route we should take from camp, coming out here. Patrols should attack from here, here, and here. We’ll drive the rats toward a fourth patrol, and contain them in the tightest area possible. We need to find a place where we’ll always be higher than the rats, to keep the advantage.” His voice grew stronger and more confident with every word. “We should build barriers on either side of the spot where the rats will emerge, to keep them blocked in. We’ll set a trap for them!” he ended triumphantly.

A moment of silence followed, every cat turning their gaze toward the Clan leader.

Cedarstar nodded. “It might work,” he pronounced.

Several cats pushed up to Raggedpelt to congratulate him, while others started talking in quiet tones. Yellowfang knew that not every cat would feel pride in Raggedpelt’s courageous plan; he was well respected in his Clan, but didn’t make friends easily.

But
I’m
proud of him,
she thought, catching his eye and nodding to show him that she agreed it was a great idea.

Cedarstar, Stonetooth, and the other senior warriors huddled around Raggedpelt, examining the scratch marks he had made in the earth. Yellowfang, still helping Sagewhisker deal with injuries, found herself at the back of the crowd.

“I want to be in the final patrol,” Wolfstep meowed. “I’d be good at building the walls to trap the rats.”