Hey guys! Sorry that I didn't post Sunday, I was busy. I've just finished Chapter 8 now. Also, answer to your question Hazeldapple, I don't know why I hyphenated her name, I just did. I thought that was how it was supposed to be if two of the same letters in a warriors name were next to each other, I guess. Anyways, on with the story! Hope you like it!

Chapter 8

Since Bright-tail's arrival, four more cats have arrived: Oakstalk, Lightspring, Flaxenpelt, and Cliffsplash. However, I barely have time to worry, because although Mistfur says I should be getting better, I seem to have gotten worse. I am constantly shivering, and even the small movement is draining me of my energy. I'm never hungry, although the short times I am awake they make me try to eat (which I never do, I just pretend to take a small bite and then turn away). Even though I feel cold, I burn in my bones, as though my body heat is being dammed up and stored, unable to break through and therefor welling up within me.

Distantly, I hear Mistfur mutter to Haypaw that he's never seen any sickness like this before, and when Haypaw leaves for the half moon medicine cat meeting (Mistfur isn't going because there are too many sick cats) he'll have to ask the others if they've seen it. I don't think about it; Swiftpaw is trying to get me to eat again. I close my eyes and turn away, not bothering to even try to sniff it. I know I'm thin and need nutrients, but the thought of eating makes me sick. This time, darkness envelops me quicker than ever.

o o o

When I wake up, it's nighttime. I can't help but feel a sense of relief—nobody will try to nag me into eating. However, I can sense at once that something is out of place.

Instead of scrambling around the patients, or at least resting peacefully, Mistfur is lying on his side, wheezing gently, his eyes half open and his nose dry. Haypaw is slumped against the wall, still healthy but exhausted.

"Haypaw…" I rasp weakly.

"Hmm…wha?" Haypaw mutters. "Clearpaw… is something wrong? Do you need help?"

"S'Mistfur," I mumble. "Wrong…sick." The words don't want to come off my dry, swollen tongue, but Haypaw is up in an instant, sniffing his mentor's pelt in concern. "Oh no… he has the sickness."

I shudder and curl into an even tighter ball. What hope do we have if our medicine cat is ill? A cough racks my body and Haypaw is at my side in an instant, sniffing my side and giving me some coltsfoot. My teeth chatter and I let out a small whimper. When will this end?

o o o

The next morning, we awake to our first casualty. Lightspring is dead, just a lump of tan-and-white fur curled up and stiffening. Pinestep lets out of sob of grief—she is the only cat in her family to not have fallen ill, although I hear her wail, "I wish it was me!" I am awake long enough to watch the elders carry her out of the den and start to dig her grave, until I fall asleep again, feeling guilty but weary.

That night, I awake and peer through the den opening to see cats sitting vigil for Lightspring. There are not as many as there should be—only Pinestep, Swiftpaw, Sandyclaw, and Flowerfur remain by her side.

The next morning, Mosspaw joins us. Her eyes are dull and her usually shining pelt is ragged. We have run out of nests, and Swiftpaw hurries to make one more.

o o o

The pain comes so unexpectedly that I nearly pass out immediately. It feels as if a dog has just taken an enormous bite out of my side. I only have a moment to think, Is this what Lightspring felt? before letting darkness sweep over me.

o o o

Unlike my first dreams, I am very aware that I am dreaming. But it seems so real, that I have a feeling that soon, it will become reality and I will leave the wakeful world for good. Bright green grass whispers softly around me, tickling my paws. A gentle breeze lifts my fur and tall trees tower over my head. In the sky, stars blink and wink kindly down at me. Where am I? I wonder, but I know where I am.

"Greetings, young one," a voice says. I turn to see a blue-grey tom sitting behind me. "Welcome to StarClan."

"That's it then?" I ask sadly. "I'm dead?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he replies. "I am Rushingstar, former leader of RiverClan."

"RiverClan…" I murmur. With all the chaos and sickness that had plagued me, I had forgotten all about Heronleap.

"And I am Deerstar," A light brown she-cat says as she appears out of the mist, "former leader of SkyClan."

"We are you distant ancestors," Rushingstar explains. "I represent your RiverClan side."

"And I, your SkyClan side," Deerstar meows. "We both needed to talk to you, and help you."

"Even StarClan cats don't have the power to change destiny, though," I argue. "If I'm supposed to die, I'm supposed to die."

"That's true," Deerstar agrees. "We can't change fate. But it is not your destiny to die so young."

"We are here to give you a message," Rushingstar says. "We know how to cure this illness, but Haypaw ad Mistfur do not know this herb or how to get it!"

"Tell Haypaw that to find the herb he seeks, he must look in the Two-leg gardens. The herb is perilla, an earthy herb with a slightly minty taste," Deerstar urges me.

"You need not join our ranks so soon," Rushingstar murmurs, and I realize that suddenly he is fading, along with Deerstar… or am I the one fading?

"Remember… you may be half-clan, but your heart is pure!" Deerstar calls, and then everything fades to white.

o o o

"Perilla!" I gasp, my eyes flaring open. My bones aren't on fire anymore, and my fur isn't frozen.

"Clearpaw!" Haypaw whispers in shock. I realize that he is sitting next to me, and weary expression dissolving from his eyes. "We… We thought you were dead! You were so still!"

I shake myself, standing up so quickly that Swiftpaw, who is also sitting by me, gasps. "Tell Mistfur that the herb we need is perilla!"

There's an awkward silence, and Haypaw and Swiftpaw exchange looks. "What?" I demand.

"Clearpaw… Mistfur is… dead," Haypaw chokes out.

I stand there, my jaw agape. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't know," I whisper. Haypaw shakes his head, his eyes filled with grief.

"We need to get the perilla," I murmur.

"Perilla? What are you mewing about?" Swiftpaw asks.

"I had a dream, StarClan came to me!" I blurt out. The two male apprentices exchange shocked looks. "Rushingstar and Deerstar, they said. They told me to tell you about perilla, a Two-leg herb that's earthy and minty!"

"I'll ask Cherrystar if we can immediately go to the Two-leg Place and gather it," Haypaw says, then whisks off.

"I'm so glad you're better," Swiftpaw purrs, but there's a sad edge to his voice.

"What is it?" I cock my head. "What's wrong?"

"It's Cliffsplash," my brother replies, lowering his voice. "She's gotten worse. You've been out for two days. Haypaw says that Cliffsplash and Bright-tail are the worst cases we have. He won't let anyone see them because they're the most contagious. Not even Nightcreek or I can see Mother."

I stare at him, my heart starting to pound. "She'll be okay," I force out. "She has to be. They both have to be."

o o o

Cherrystar and Haypaw make arrangements for a patrol to go to Two-keg Place tomorrow at dawn. I am excited and also nervous, because they want me to lead the patrol—an honor that is rare for an apprentice.

Now I am resting, still in the medicine cat den because Haypaw wants to keep an eye. I am just starting to curl up for the night when I hear some cat whisper my name. I prick my ears.

"Clearpaw…"

I follow it into Haypaw's personal quarters, where Cliffsplash is sleeping. Or, supposed to be sleeping. Her eyes are open.

"I'm here, Mother. Do you need something? Water? Food?"

"Just… just you…" she rasps, then falls back to sleep. I lay down next to her, concerned that if I leave something horrible will happen.

It doesn't make a difference. Something horrible happens anyways.

When she wakes the second time, it's different. She wakes with a quick, painful intake of breath, then lets out a breathy exhale, and before she's hyperventilating slightly. I lift my head and realize with a jolt of panic that she is going through the same pain I felt before I had drifted to StarClan. Please, StarClan…no…

"Mother?" I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.

"Clearpaw…" she murmurs. Her body is stiff and tense, as though she is trying to physically suppress the pain. Only her eyes move. They rest on me, full of sadness and hope. Hope for me.

"I love you," she chokes out.

"Don't go…" I try to hold back a sob.

She sighs and her body relaxes. Her eyes drift away away from mine as her last breath leaves her.

"I love you, too," I whisper and bury my nose into her cooling fur.