The Silent Thaw

Chapter 12

Shadowsight shivered as a cold breeze whisked around him. In the distance, the Moonpool’s hollow was lit from above. It glowed against the dark moor. He couldn’t help feeling that it was waiting for him, that it knew he was coming to share his vision of the codebreakers at last. He tried to ignore the doubt that had been shadowing the edges of his thoughts for the last three days. What would StarClan demand from the cats it had shown him—from Dovewing—to make amends?

He followed Puddleshine along the stream and up the rocks as they steepened. Scrambling from paw hold to paw hold, he was breathless by the time he reached the top and hauled himself into the silver moonlight of the hollow. The other medicine cats sat like stones at the bottom, the Moonpool shining beside them.

Puddleshine paused at his side. He glanced at Shadowsight. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”

“I’m worried about leaving Snowbird,” he told him. It was a half-truth, but what else could he say? He hadn’t told Puddleshine what he was planning to reveal at the meeting. “Her paw isn’t healing as well as I’d hoped.” He thought of the injured she-cat, and of Scorchfur, whose pelt was still slicked with ointment to soothe his injuries, and of Dovewing’s torn ear and the kink in Stonewing’s tail. Antfur had been buried three days ago, and the Clan was still in mourning. He had to share his vision about the codebreakers. It was the only way to protect his Clan from StarClan’s anger.

As he padded down the dimpled rock, he realized the Moonpool was unfrozen. Its water was as black as the night sky, but no stars reflected in its glossy surface. StarClan still seemed very far away.

Frecklewish got to her paws as the ShadowClan cats neared, padding to greet them with a nod. “Do you think StarClan will share with us tonight?”

Puddleshine’s gaze was dark. “I hope so.”

Beside the pool, Jayfeather stared blindly ahead. “If StarClan wishes to share, they will.”

Alderheart glanced at the blank water. “Is it me, or does the Moonpool seem different tonight?”

“It looks darker than usual.” Kestrelflight’s ears twitched uneasily.

“It’s only water,” Mothwing mewed briskly. “Why don’t we see what happens.” She crouched at the edge, beckoning Willowshine closer with a flick of her tail.

Shadowsight fought to stop his paws trembling. He had to speak before they touched their noses to the water. They had to know what was wrong before they faced another silence. He took a breath. What would they say when he told them? “I think I know why StarClan has stopped sharing with us,” he blurted out.

Kestrelflight jerked his muzzle toward him. “Why should you know what we don’t?”

“StarClan sent me a vision that I haven’t told you about.” Shadowsight pressed on as the others blinked at him in surprise. “When we were here a few moons ago, a voice spoke to me. It said the Clans had forgotten the code.” He closed his eyes, quoting the words. “‘The code has been broken time and time again, and because of the codebreakers, every Clan must pay a price. They must suffer.’”

“‘Suffer’?” Frecklewish stared at him. “StarClan has never wanted us to suffer before. They want to help us.”

Shadowsight pressed on. “This is what they told me,” he insisted. “They showed me a vision of the cats who have broken the code.”

Kestrelflight’s ears flattened. “Which cats?” he demanded.

“Crowfeather, Squirrelflight, Jayfeather—”

Jayfeather stiffened as Shadowsight said his name. “Me? Why?”

Shadowsight looked at him. “I don’t know.”

“Who else?” Alderheart asked nervously.

“Dovewing.” The name caught in Shadowsight’s throat. He was naming his mother as a codebreaker. He felt dizzy as he forced himself to go on. “Lionblaze, Twigbranch, and Mothwing.” He avoided the RiverClan medicine cat’s gaze, guilt washing his pelt.

Puddleshine was staring at him. Anger flashed in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I couldn’t.” Shadowsight looked at his paws. “Tigerstar wanted me to keep it secret. He was scared for Dovewing.” He glanced at the medicine cats. They were staring at him wordlessly. “He was scared for all the codebreakers.”

Jayfeather growled. “He was right to be scared. Bramblestar has already been calling for any cat who breaks the code to be punished.”

“Perhaps Bramblestar’s right,” Shadowsight mewed softly. “The vision says the Clans will suffer for what the codebreakers have done. But perhaps if the codebreakers make amends, the rest of us will be spared.”

Mothwing lashed her tail angrily. “This is nonsense! This proves what I’ve always thought. We shouldn’t let our ancestors guide us. Why should every cat suffer because a few have made mistakes?”

“We can’t turn away from StarClan when we disagree with them.” Willowshine blinked at her former mentor. “They see everything. They have more knowledge than us.”

As Mothwing grunted crossly, Shadowsight met her gaze. “There have been a lot of injuries in ShadowClan recently. If it’s StarClan’s doing, we can’t let it go on. We have to make things right.”

“Injuries are a part of life,” Mothwing retorted. “If we believed StarClan was angry with us every time a warrior gets hurt, then we’d have to believe they were angry with us all the time!”

“This is different,” Alderheart mewed softly. “This is the first time StarClan has ever stopped speaking to us.” He nodded to the still, black water. “Can you remember a time when there were no stars glittering in the Moonpool? Something has changed, and if Shadowsight has had a vision that tells us what’s wrong, we must listen to it.” His dark ginger fur rippled nervously.

Shadowsight felt a wave of sympathy. Alderheart’s mother was on the list of codebreakers, too. He knew how hard it was to admit that the codebreakers might be the reason for StarClan’s silence. “I can’t let my Clanmates suffer.”

Kestrelflight glared suddenly at Shadowsight. “Are you sure you heard the vision right?”

“I told you everything I saw and heard,” Shadowsight told him.

“But how can we be sure you remembered right?” Kestrelflight looked around the other cats. “He’s the youngest of us. Why should we trust a cat with so little experience?”

Puddleshine padded to Shadowsight’s side. “He’s been having visions since he was a kit,” he mewed firmly. “And he’s trying to do the right thing.”

Frecklewish nodded. “The vision sounds pretty clear. I don’t see how Shadowsight could have gotten it wrong.”

Kestrelflight frowned. “But it doesn’t make sense,” he mewed. “Why is Dovewing named and not Tigerstar? They both fell in love with cats from different Clans. They both ran away. Why should only Dovewing be held responsible? It doesn’t seem fair.”

Jayfeather whisked his tail angrily. “Why am I named? Or Lionblaze? When have we broken the code?”

“We’ve all probably broken the code at some point,” Kestrelflight pointed out. “Without even realizing.”

“Then why isn’t every cat named?” Jayfeather snapped. “Am I going to be punished because my mother broke the code? She was the one who had kits with a cat from another Clan, not me!”

Frecklewish blinked at Jayfeather. “StarClan has spoken,” she mewed. “We have to obey.”

Jayfeather snorted. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not named! No SkyClan cat is!”

Alderheart was frowning. “I don’t understand why StarClan has decided these codebreakers should be punished now. Why not sooner? Warriors have been breaking the code for generations. Long before we were born. StarClan has never asked the Clans to suffer for it until now.”

Shadowsight’s pelt prickled uneasily. Why were the other medicine cats questioning his vision? They should act, not talk. “We’re wasting time,” he mewed. “We should be deciding what to do next.”

“Should we tell our Clans about the vision?” Willowshine’s eyes glittered darkly in the moonlight.

“No!” Jayfeather’s bind blue gaze swung toward her. “Can you imagine what Bramblestar will do when he knows who to blame?”

“We can’t keep it to ourselves,” Alderheart argued. “It’s too important.”

Frecklewish nodded. “It affects every cat in the Clans.”

Shadowsight’s belly tightened. “We have to tell them.” His Clanmates had already suffered too much because of his silence.

Kestrelflight nodded. “If it’s true, our Clanmates must know.”

“They should have known sooner,” Puddleshine murmured.

Shadowsight felt the sting of his denmate’s words. He’s angry because I kept the vision to myself.

Alderheart swished his tail. “The sooner the codebreakers atone, the sooner the Clans will be safe.”

Frecklewish lifted her muzzle. “Let’s go home and tell our leaders what we’ve learned.”

Willowshine’s ears twitched. “Let’s hope they know what to do.”

The chill of the hollow cut through Shadowsight’s pelt. He had a second confession to make. He braced himself. He’d known from the start the next one would be harder: he was going to have to tell Tigerstar that he’d broken his promise and told the other medicine cats. He tried not to picture his father’s anger, but he knew he was going to have to face it eventually. Fear fluttered in his chest, and yet he still felt relieved. He’d shared his vision at last. Now the Clans could take action and his Clanmates’ suffering could end.

He watched Jayfeather settle beside the Moonpool. The blind medicine cat touched his nose to the water. Did he still hope that StarClan would share with him tonight? As Jayfeather closed his eyes, the ThunderClan medicine cat’s words rang in Shadowsight’s ears. Can you imagine what Bramblestar will do when he knows who to blame? Shadowsight stifled a shudder. Would his vision end his Clanmates’ suffering, or make it worse?

Shadowsight waited until dawn. He’d given up trying to sleep and was watching anxiously from his nest. At last, as pale light began to loosen the shadows, he heard the paw steps of the dawn patrol gathering in the clearing. Heart quickening, he crept from his nest and waited until Snaketooth, Yarrowleaf, Conefoot, and Gullswoop headed out of camp, then ducked outside and crossed to his father’s den.

“Tigerstar,” he whispered into the darkness, his heart pounding so hard that he felt his body pulse with its beat. Puddleshine had offered to come with him to tell Tigerstar about last night’s meeting, but this was something Shadowsight wanted to do alone. He was the one who had betrayed his father’s trust.

Bracken rustled inside, and Shadowsight stepped back as he heard paw steps cross the den.

His father emerged, blinking, into the clearing. “Is something wrong?” His eyes rounded with worry as he scanned the sleeping camp.

“The Clan is safe,” Shadowsight reassured him.

Dovewing slid past Tigerstar and looked anxiously at Shadowsight. “It’s early,” she mewed. “Is everything okay?”

“I have something to tell you.” Shadowsight glanced over his shoulder to make sure no cat was listening. “About the half-moon meeting.”

Tigerstar’s gaze darkened. Had he guessed?

Dovewing tipped her head seriously. “It sounds serious.”

“It is.” Shadowsight held his father’s gaze, his breath shallow. “I told the other medicine cats about my vision.”

Anger flashed in Tigerstar’s eyes.

Dovewing looked puzzled. “What vision?”

“The one StarClan sent me.” Shadowsight dragged his gaze to his mother. “It told me that there are codebreakers in the Clans, and that the Clans must suffer because of them.”

Dovewing’s ears pricked. “Codebreakers?”

“They named cats who have broken the warrior code.” His throat tightened. He had to force himself not to look away. “You were one of them.”

Dovewing seemed to flinch. She looked anxiously at Tigerstar. “And your father?”

“They didn’t name him.”

“Who else?” Fear sharpened Dovewing’s mew.

“Crowfeather and Squirrelflight.” Shadowsight didn’t dare look at Tigerstar. From the corner of his eye, he could see his father’s breath billowing in the cold morning air. He wanted to ask for forgiveness for what he’d done. Instead he pressed on. “Jayfeather, Twigbranch, Lionblaze, and Mothwing.”

“Is that all?” His mother stared at him.

“That’s all they showed me.”

“We can’t be the only warriors who have broken the code.” Dovewing swung her muzzle toward Tigerstar. “You broke it too. Why aren’t you named?”

Tigerstar was staring at Shadowsight. “You shouldn’t have told them,” he growled. His tail flicked ominously.

“I had to.” Shadowsight held his ground. “Bad things kept happening to our Clanmates. Antfur died. It was a sign from StarClan, don’t you see? They warned me that cats would have to pay a price, that they would have to suffer. . . . I had to tell the others so terrible things would stop happening.”

Tigerstar flattened his ears. “What if knowing who the codebreakers are causes more suffering?”

“I had to do something,” Shadowsight insisted. “I couldn’t sit by and let anything else happen to my Clanmates.”

Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. “So Jayfeather and Alderheart are going to tell Bramblestar?”

“Yes.” Shadowsight swallowed. “They have to.”

“Why aren’t you named?” Dovewing asked Tigerstar again.

Tigerstar looked at her grimly. “StarClan might accuse more cats. If they don’t, I’m sure Bramblestar will.”

Shadowsight’s heart lurched. Was this just the beginning? Would the Clans tear themselves apart with accusations? The ground seemed to tremble beneath his paws as he realized what he’d started. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I wanted to protect our Clan. I had to tell them about my vision.”

Tigerstar scowled at him. “No matter who it hurt?” Rage hardened his mew.

“Be kind.” Dovewing touched Tigerstar’s tail with hers. “We raised him to be honest, didn’t we?” She blinked at Shadowsight. “I told him only a few days ago to tell the truth.” Shadowsight’s heart seemed to break. His mother clearly realized that it had been her words that had encouraged him to betray her to the other medicine cats. He felt ashamed as he saw love glisten in her green gaze. “I’m proud of him,” she mewed. “And I did break the code. If StarClan wants to punish me, then I have to face up to it.” She lifted her chin, her pelt smoothing. “We must obey their word.”

Tigerstar’s pelt spiked with rage. “Look what you’ve done!” he snarled at Shadowsight. “Once the other leaders hear this, who knows where the accusations will end? What will happen to ShadowClan if they accuse me? I won’t be able to protect your mother then.”

Shadowsight straightened. Shame seemed to loosen its grip around his heart. He’d done the right thing. He was sure of it. He met his father’s gaze determinedly. “It is every warrior’s duty to be honest and loyal. You’ve always done your best for your Clan. ShadowClan is only still here because of you. No cat could accuse you”—he glanced at Dovewing—“either of you of being bad warriors.”

Dovewing pressed her flank to Tigerstar’s. “He’s right,” she murmured. “We may have broken the code, but so has nearly every warrior at some point in their lives. We have to trust StarClan to be fair.”

“But why accuse the codebreakers now?” Tigerstar blinked at her. “We’re no worse than all the warriors that have gone before us. Why should we be punished?”

“I don’t know,” Dovewing whispered. “But if I can save ShadowClan by atoning for the things that I have done, then that’s what I will do.”

Foreboding darkened the edges of Shadowsight’s thoughts. He swallowed back fear. He knew he’d been right to tell the other medicine cats, but what would happen now? Was Dovewing going to have to suffer to save her Clan? Tigerstar had a point. Why had StarClan named these cats? Why now? His heart began to quicken. StarClan, have pity. I’ve done what you wanted. He glanced at the watery dawn sky, hoping they could hear. Don’t let Dovewing suffer for my honesty.