River Of Fire

CHAPTER 16

Carefully Alderheart peeled the poultice off Velvet’s burn, then gave the wound a good sniff. “That’s healing really well,” he mewed. “I think we’ll leave it uncovered, to let the fresh air get at it.”

“It hardly hurts at all now,” Velvet purred. “You’re a great medicine cat, Alderheart.”

Alderheart wasn’t sure that was true. Embarrassed, he tried to think of a way to change the subject, but in the end it was Velvet who spoke first.

“Every cat was so surprised when Ivypool had her kits on the night of the Gathering. None of us thought she was due.”

Alderheart nodded, remembering how he had returned to camp to discover Jayfeather cleaning himself up after delivering the kits.

“Of course it had to happen tonight,” the blind medicine cat had grumbled. “I had to do it, and I’m not over the sickness yet.”

Alderheart knew that Jayfeather wasn’t thinking about himself, but whether he might have passed on the sickness to Ivypool or, even worse, to the new kits. Or Daisy, or Briarlight . . . , he thought. Cinderheart had taken her litter to spend the night in the elders’ den, but the other two she-cats had insisted on staying to help.

So far, every cat seems to be healthy, Alderheart thought. But I’ll have to keep an eye on them all.

He started out of his memories as he realized that Velvet was speaking again.

“Clan life is really different from how I imagined it,” she mewed. “Fuzzball made me think it was all fighting and hunting, but you do so much more! You heal cats, and you make sure every cat is cared for, especially the kits and elders. . . .”

“That’s the warrior code,” Alderheart responded.

Velvet’s words made him realize that she was fitting into ThunderClan much better than any cat had expected. We have so much in common, he thought. Wouldn’t it be great if she decided to stay, and then we could spend more time together?

Alarm jolted through Alderheart. What am I thinking? He knew seeing more of Velvet would be a really bad idea. He could already feel his heart being pulled toward her, and for a medicine cat, that was forbidden.

And we already have Jayfeather hanging over us all the time.

The blind medicine cat was slow to recover from the belly sickness. Alderheart was aware of him now, curled up in his nest, his eyes closed but his ears pricked as though he was listening to every word Alderheart and Velvet said.

It’s okay, Jayfeather, Alderheart thought. I’m not going to do anything you won’t approve of.

Paw steps outside the den distracted him, and a moment later Fuzzball, who slept in the apprentices’ den, bounced in through the bramble screen. He was carrying a vole in his jaws.

“Look, Jayfeather,” he meowed cheerfully, setting his prey down in front of Jayfeather’s nose. “The first hunting patrols are coming back, and I picked out this vole for you. Voles are your favorite, aren’t they? Come on, sit up now, and while you’re eating it, I’ll fluff up your nest so you can have a nice nap.”

While Fuzzball was chattering on, Jayfeather let out a long groan. He sat up, irritably shaking scraps of moss and fern from his pelt. “I’m cured,” he announced.

“Are you sure?” Alderheart asked, trying to hide his amusement. “I think your belly is still a bit tender. You might do better with another day of rest.”

“No, I’m completely cured,” Jayfeather insisted, shooting a glare at Alderheart before bending down to take hungry bites of the vole. “I’d better get back to my duties, and that means I can’t chat right now.”

“That’s great, Jayfeather!” Fuzzball exclaimed. “Now I can help you with medicine-cat stuff.”

“StarClan give me strength!” Jayfeather muttered through his teeth. “Alderheart, stop sitting there like a frozen rabbit and get over to the nursery. It’s only been three days since Ivypool had her kits, and you need to check on her.”

Like I haven’t been doing that, Alderheart thought, trying to stifle a slight feeling of resentment. I know he’s only saying that to get me away from Velvet.

But Alderheart knew he had no right to protest. Hauling himself to his paws, he dipped his head to the gray she-cat and headed out of the den. Behind him he heard Fuzzball’s excited squeak.

“Can we go into the forest and look for herbs, Jayfeather? Can we? I know I’ll find lots!”

When Alderheart reached the nursery, now securely patched after the damage from the storm, Ivypool was curled up with her three kits snuggled into her belly. Fernsong sat beside them, gazing down proudly at his litter.

“We’ve named them,” Ivypool told Alderheart. “The pale gray she-kit is Bristlekit, the dark gray she-cat is Thriftkit, and the little tabby tom is Flipkit.”

“They’re beautiful,” Alderheart purred, his resentment vanishing as the milky scent of the nursery flowed over him and he gave the three tiny bodies a quick check. “And they seem to be thriving,” he continued. “Are they feeding well?”

“They hardly ever stop!” Ivypool responded, her eyes glimmering with loving amusement.

“And we couldn’t be happier,” Fernsong added.

Ivypool blinked reflectively. “You know,” she confided to Alderheart, “I was so angry when Dovewing left, and I missed her so much. I felt betrayed. But now, seeing my own kits . . . I think I’m learning what’s really important.”

“I’m sure Dovewing had good reasons for what she did,” Alderheart meowed.

“I know. I think she had to be with Tigerheart. And if that’s true, I think I can accept it, now that she’s been gone so long.”

“You must still miss her, though,” Alderheart suggested.

“Yes,” Ivypool responded with a thoughtful sigh. “But it’s strange. I’ve been dreaming about her so much. . . . I have the feeling that we’ll see each other again someday.”

“I hope so,” Alderheart mewed, then moved on to Cinderheart, who was curled up nearby with her own kits, who were much older and bigger than Ivypool’s. She was watching Ivypool’s kits affectionately. It must be sweet, Alderheart thought, to get to spend time with her kit’s kits at the same time she tends her own.

“Don’t disturb them!” Cinderheart begged Alderheart. “The only time I get any rest is when they’re asleep.” She stroked her tail affectionately over her kits. “But I wouldn’t have them any different.”

“They’re strong young cats,” Daisy put in from her nest at the far side of the nursery. “They’ll be apprenticed sooner than you know it.”

“We’ll need to make the apprentices’ den bigger,” Alderheart agreed.

He padded over to Briarlight, who lay stretched out among the moss and fern not far from Daisy. When he bent his head to sniff at her, he picked up a familiar sour scent.

Alderheart couldn’t restrain a gasp of dismay. The sound disturbed Briarlight, who opened her eyes.

Immediately Alderheart’s uneasiness grew. Briarlight’s eyes were glazed and her movements sluggish as she tried to prop herself up on her forelegs. Her scent had soured too; Alderheart felt his heart thumping uncomfortably as he guessed what was wrong. She escaped the sickness when she was in the tunnel with Sorrelstripe, he thought, but she has it now.

“How are you feeling, Briarlight?” he asked.

Briarlight hesitated before she replied. “Not so good,” she admitted at last. “My belly has been aching terribly for the last couple of days.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Briarlight replied. “I hoped it was just something I ate.”

“I’m a medicine cat. I’m here to be bothered,” Alderheart pointed out. “We’ll get you back into the medicine-cat den right away.”

He popped his head out of the nursery and beckoned to Thornclaw and Poppyfrost, who were the first cats he spotted. “Briarlight’s not well,” he told them. “We need to move her back to my den.”

Leaving the two warriors to carry Briarlight, Alderheart bounded across the camp. Briarlight must have caught the sickness from Jayfeather when he delivered Ivypool’s litter, he thought. We need to get her away from the kits.

When Alderheart brushed past the bramble screen, Velvet was drowsing in her nest, while Jayfeather was at the back of the den, sorting the herbs stored in the cleft in the rock. Fuzzball was helping him.

“This one’s dock leaf, isn’t it? Oh . . . no . . . tansy. And this is—don’t tell me—catmint!”

“Sorrel,” Jayfeather hissed.

He turned at the sound of Alderheart entering the den, looking relieved to be distracted from Fuzzball’s constant questioning. But his expression changed to concern when Alderheart told him that Briarlight had the belly sickness.

“It’s a good thing you spotted it before Cinderheart, Ivypool, or their kits got sick,” Jayfeather mewed. He sounded uneasy; he must have known very well that if Briarlight was ill, she had caught it from him when he delivered Ivypool’s kits.

“Yes,” Alderheart responded, “but I’ll keep a close eye on them for the next day or two, just to be sure.”

As Thornclaw and Poppyfrost maneuvered Briarlight past the brambles and into the den, Velvet sprang to her paws and quickly pulled together some dry ferns and moss to make a nest for her.

“Settle down here,” she mewed kindly. “Are you comfortable? Is the bedding thick enough?”

“It’s great, thanks,” Briarlight replied, sinking into the nest with a sigh. “I’m really sorry to be giving all of you so much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Alderheart told her. “It’s what we’re here for. Now let me fetch you some watermint. You’ll soon feel better.”

“I’ll get it!” Fuzzball plunged into the herb store and emerged with a sprig of leaves in his jaws. To Alderheart’s surprise, it actually was watermint.

“Thanks, Fuzzball.” Velvet took the sprig from him and stripped off the leaves before laying them in front of Briarlight. “Chew them up small before you swallow them,” she instructed.

Velvet gave Briarlight a soothing stroke as she licked up the leaves.

What a great cat she is, Alderheart thought. She may be a kittypet, but she really cares about other cats.

As if she had caught his thoughts, Velvet looked up at him and gave him a shy, friendly glance. Warmed through and through, Alderheart found himself returning it, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

Dawn light was filtering through the bramble screen when Alderheart struggled out of his nest and went to check on Briarlight. Even before he reached her, he knew that something was badly wrong. He could hear her irregular, rasping breaths, interspersed with spasmodic retching sounds.

“Briarlight, why didn’t you call me?” he asked as he reached her side.

Briarlight fought to raise her head and look at him, and with a pang of fear Alderheart realized how weak she was—much worse than when her Clanmates had carried her into the den the day before.

“I didn’t want . . . to be a nuisance,” she gasped, every word an effort.

She’s dying . . . , Alderheart thought.

Briarlight seemed to know what was happening. Her face was peaceful; her eyes were shining as if she was already gazing into the sunlit glades of StarClan’s territory.

“It’s . . . okay, Alderheart,” she gasped. “But I’d like to say good-bye.”

Alderheart nodded swiftly and went to wake Velvet, shaking her urgently by the shoulder.

Velvet started up immediately. “What is it?” she asked.

“Briarlight is dying,” Alderheart murmured. “Please go and find a Clan cat to fetch her kin.”

Velvet’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, no . . .” Then she rose to her paws and slipped silently out of the den.

Alderheart went on to wake Jayfeather and gave him the same terrible news. For a few heartbeats Jayfeather sat frozen, as if he hadn’t taken in what Alderheart was telling him.

“She’s dying, Jayfeather,” Alderheart repeated.

“Nonsense. I won’t allow her to die,” Jayfeather snapped.

Rising to his paws, he blundered to the back of the den. So clumsy . . . , Alderheart thought, reflecting how ordinarily no cat would even think that Jayfeather was blind, his movements were so neat. He knows we’re losing her, even if he won’t admit it.

He watched Jayfeather soak some moss in the water that trickled down the rock and take it to Briarlight to drink. Then in his turn he slipped out into the open and headed for the tumbled rocks that led to Bramblestar’s den.

In the gray dawn light the camp was rousing; Squirrelflight stood outside the warriors’ den as if she had begun to arrange the dawn patrols, but all the warriors were clustered around Velvet as she passed on the news. Alderheart heard Millie let out a heartrending cry that echoed around the stone hollow, and saw Graystripe press himself close to her side.

Bramblestar was awake when Alderheart reached his den. Alderheart thought Millie’s cry must have roused him. At once he leaped to his paws, alert and sliding out his claws. “Is there trouble?” he asked.

“Not the kind you mean,” Alderheart replied. “It’s Briarlight. She has the sickness, and she’s dying.”

Bramblestar’s amber eyes filled with sorrow. “I knew this would happen someday. She’s lived a long time with terrible injuries,” he mewed. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

He led the way down into the camp and moved among the huddled groups of his warriors, listening to their grief. Glancing around, he spotted Larksong and beckoned him over with his tail.

“Leafpool should be here,” he told the young warrior. “Fetch her, please—try the ShadowClan camp first. It’s closer than RiverClan.”

Larksong nodded and hurried off, pausing at the apprentices’ den to collect Finpaw.

Alderheart left Bramblestar to talk with his Clanmates and returned to the medicine cats’ den. Graystripe, Millie, Blossomfall, and Bumblestripe were already there. Millie was crouching beside her daughter, gently licking her ears, while the rest of the family clustered around them.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Graystripe murmured to Alderheart. “She was always so strong, so brave . . .”

“I’m surprised she weakened so quickly,” Alderheart responded. “I think she must have been hiding how bad she felt.”

She hasn’t been eating enough, he added to himself, seeing Briarlight’s ribs sliding beneath her fur as she struggled to breathe. And it’s harder for her to fight the sickness because she can’t move.

Alderheart wasn’t sure how long he sat in the medicine cats’ den, listening to Briarlight’s gradually fading breath. At one point Leafpool slipped in quietly and sat beside Jayfeather, wrapping her tail around her son’s shoulders.

Later Twigpaw appeared, meowing, “Alderheart, do you—” as she brushed past the bramble screen, then falling silent as she realized how weak Briarlight had become. She crept closer to the dying cat.

“Oh, Briarlight. Good-bye,” she whispered. “You were so kind to me when I was a kit.”

Briarlight’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked affectionately at Twigpaw. “We had . . . some good times,” she rasped.

Millie pressed even closer to her daughter. “Oh, precious one, don’t leave us,” she mewed, her voice quivering. “Please don’t leave us.”

Briarlight looked up at her mother. “Don’t . . . worry about me, Millie. I shall . . . run and hunt again . . . in StarClan.”

Then her eyes closed once more and she sighed out a long, final breath. Millie let out a terrible wail; Graystripe and her two remaining kits huddled around her.

Alderheart couldn’t bear to watch them trying to comfort one another. He stumbled out of the den, shocked to see that the sun was already going down, casting dark shadows across the hollow. His legs gave way under him and he crouched with his head on his paws and gave himself up to grief.

Soon he realized that Jayfeather had followed him out and was crouching beside him, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “This is my fault,” he snarled. “I must have given her the sickness when I went into the nursery to deliver Ivypool’s kits. I should never have gone near her.”

His guilt and regret struck Alderheart like a massive claw, driving him a little way out of his own sorrow. “It’s not your fault,” he meowed firmly. “Ivypool and her kits might have died without a medicine cat to help. Besides, you could just as well say that Leafpool and I were responsible. We shouldn’t have left you as the only medicine cat in camp.”

Jayfeather turned his head toward him with an intense blind stare. “We all thought Ivypool had a few more days to go,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t change the fact that Briarlight got the sickness from me. And I couldn’t help her,” he added. “No cat could help her. Oh, StarClan, what good are we?”

“You did your best,” Alderheart told him, beginning to recover in his need to comfort Jayfeather. “You gave her seasons of life with the routines and the exercises you worked out for her.”

He half expected Jayfeather to snap at him, but to his surprise his Clanmate gave a grunt of agreement. “I wish I could have healed her,” he meowed.

“So do I,” Alderheart responded. “I blame myself. . . . I should have realized how weak she was getting.”

“No.” Jayfeather shook his head emphatically. “You’re a fine medicine cat. None of us saw this coming.”

Movement behind Alderheart made him turn, to see Leafpool leading the way out of the medicine cats’ den, followed by Graystripe and Millie carrying Briarlight. They laid her body in the center of the camp, and the rest of the Clan began to gather around to keep vigil for her.

Jayfeather rose and padded over to join Leafpool at Briarlight’s head. Alderheart stayed where he was for a few heartbeats, pulling himself together to face his Clan. His heart ached, but Jayfeather’s unexpected words had comforted him a little.

Jayfeather has praised me before—once or twice—but this is the first time he’s made me really believe I might one day be a good medicine cat.

The cats of ThunderClan gathered in a ragged circle around Briarlight’s body to keep vigil for her. Alderheart joined them, and he listened as many of his Clanmates rose to share their memories of her.

“She was good to me when I was a kit,” Twigpaw declared. “I was scared, and missing my sister, and everything here was strange. But Briarlight made me feel I was helping her, so it was like I belonged.”

When she had finished speaking, Graystripe and Millie rose to their paws. Millie’s voice failed her, and it was Graystripe who spoke for both of them. “We were so proud of her. She was strong and brave, and even though she couldn’t walk, she always had the heart of a warrior.”

“That’s true,” Blossomfall added, standing beside her mother and father. “I only hope my kits will inherit some of Briarlight’s optimism and determination.”

As they sat down again, Jayfeather rose to his paws. “She never gave up,” he began. “She never—” His voice choked, and he couldn’t go on.

“She never lost her courage or her sense of humor,” Alderheart continued, springing up to stand beside Jayfeather. “She was a very special cat, and we’ll both miss her. Not because we looked after her, but because she was our friend.”

Jayfeather nodded. To Alderheart’s surprise, Fuzzball crept up and sat quietly beside him. He was even more astonished to see Jayfeather reach out with his tail and touch the little ginger tom lightly on his shoulder.

At last the sky above the hollow began to grow pale with dawn, and the warriors of StarClan winked out one by one. Leafpool rose to her paws.

“May StarClan light your path, Briarlight,” she meowed, using the words that medicine cats had spoken over the bodies of the dead for season upon season. “May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when you sleep.”

Her words gave Alderheart a tiny measure of comfort, like a thin ray of sunlight striking through dark branches. For a moment he seemed to see Briarlight, swift and beautiful, racing through the lush grass and trees of StarClan.

After Leafpool had spoken, Graystripe and Millie took up Briarlight’s body and carried it out of camp for burial. Grief caught in Alderheart’s throat again as he watched them: this was the traditional task of the Clan elders, but it seemed to hurt so much more since the elders were also Briarlight’s parents.

When they were gone, Alderheart rose to his paws and stumbled back to his den, feeling cold and stiff after the long vigil. He knew there were tasks he should be doing, but he was too exhausted even to remember what they were.

Then Velvet appeared at his shoulder, guiding him toward his nest. “Lie down and sleep,” she mewed, gently pushing him down into the moss and fern. “I’ll watch the den until Leafpool and Jayfeather come back. If any cat needs you, I’ll wake you, but I can take care of any minor ailments or wounds.”

“But I should—” Alderheart began to protest.

Velvet interrupted him by laying her tail across his mouth. “Let me take care of you,” she murmured.

That feels so good, Alderheart thought muzzily as he sank into sleep. Someone to take care of me . . . That hardly ever happens.

The last thing he was aware of was Velvet’s sweet scent wreathing around him.