Author's note: due to the fact that I have been writing shorter chapters, my updating schedule is now once every week, on Saturdays or Sundays at 10:30 AM to 3:45 PM Mountain Standard Time.

P.S. Sorry for the late chapter. I accidentally deleted the document while writing it.


Chapter 14: One Cat's Failed Attempt At Regicide is Another Cat's Sick Day

Nightsong yawned. Above the treetops, the sky was a grand tapestry woven of shades of red, pink, blue and orange. He had been sorting herbs since Sunhigh, after he had returned from officiating Moondusk and Jaggedshadow's duel.

After returning to camp, Nightsong had found his den in a state of astonishing disarray. His herbs, which were usually arranged in stacks along the cave's walls, lay strewn across the den floor, mixed with broken sticks and clumps of moss. Must have been Brokenstorm and Amberpelt, Nightsong thought, gazing into his den. Those two are always getting into trouble. But then again, I wasn't much better at that age, either.

Nightsong pushed a stack of drying chamomile flowers to the back of the medicine den. He pulled a large pile of assorted herbs toward himself, sorting the herbs into separate piles, tossing the occasional stick or twig into camp.

Once he was finished, Nightsong swatted a ball of moss. It rolled out of his den. Nightsong layed down, closing his eyes. His nest was comfortable as always, and was one of the few things in his den that had not been tampered with.

Nightsong awoke. He stretched, walking out of camp. He was seeking a small clump of marigold plants that were just south of camp. He had a good supply of marigold leaves in his den, but he didn't have much else to do.

Nightsong stopped. Something small and brown flashed into view. Nightsong leaped after it. He pinned the mouse against the ground with a paw and killed it with a swift bite to its neck. Nightsong buried the mouse.

Returning to herb gathering, he nipped a few stems at their base and carried them to his den for processing. Nightsong sat beside his nest. He placed the stems before him. Stripping leaves from the stem, he put them on a rock to dry.

Nightsong walked to the marigold patch and dug the mouse up. Before he returned to camp, Flamesong started walking beside him.

"Ah, just the cat I wanted to speak with," Flamesong said.

"Is someone injured?" Hope flared in Nightsong's chest, only to be crushed by Flamesong's response.

"No," Flamesong told Nightsong. "I want you to keep an eye on Jaggedshadow. He has been unusually friendly to Cedartail these last few days; I fear he will do something unwise."

"You want me to spy on my brother?"

Flamesong shook his head. "I merely wish you to inform me of any suspicious activity on his part. I only ask this to ensure the safety of NightClan."

"Cedartail isn't the entirety of NightClan," Nightsong snapped. "Loyalty has its place, but blind loyalty is more destructive than it's worth."

"You are correct, Nightsong," Flamesong said, "but surely you of all cats recall that most of NightClan's tyrants were revolutionaries?"

"I know this."

"Then you must know that all but one of NightClan's tyrants were skydwellers."

"Of course." Nightsong fought a groan at Flamesong's condescending and accusatory questions. It was true that all but one of NightClan's tyrants were . As a healer, it was Nightsong's duty to memorize and understand the oral traditions and laws of NightClan. At this, he excelled. He had almost always seen the value of the structure that rules provided.

"Then you understand my concern?"

"I see your point of view, if that's what you mean," Nightsong told Flamesong. "But fear is a powerful thing. It is an ally as well as an enemy. Fear can drive appart bonds created by a lifetime of trust and friendship, or it can keep one from harm. It all depends on whether you control it, or let it control you."

"Well," Flamesong said, " if you are done trying to philosophize with me, I have a Clan to run. Good day."

"And a good day to you." Nightsong shook his head. Flamesong was a walking contradiction. He was a good cat and a strong one as well, but he was the most spiritually weak cat Nightsong knew, as Flamesongs's connection to Caelum was almost nil. He was powerful yet weak, confident yet insecure, and rash yet wise. In short, he was a complicated cat.

"Good." Flamesong turned toward camp and began walking.

Nightsong followed moments later, carrying his mouse. He stepped into his den, resuming the re-organization and sorting of his medical supplies. This time, he found this work much less tedious than before.

Nightsong paused. The gentle, hurried sound of pawsteps signaled a cat's approach. Nightsong looked up. Brokenstorm stood before him.

"Come quick," Brokenstorm panted, "Rainfur's ill."

Nightsong stood. "What are her symptoms?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind." I probably don't have the time to explain it to you, Nightsong thought. He stacked four yarrow leaves, six borage leaves, two large pieces of moss and a dried poppy flower on a fresh dock leaf. Wrapping the dock leaf around the herb bundle, Nightsong grabbed it.

Nightsong followed Brokenstorm to the base of the stone circle, where Rainfur was. She lay on her side. Nightsong unrolled the bundle, avoiding the small puddle of vomit which lay close to Rainfur's muzzle. He sat. He needed to assess Rainfur's condition so that he could administer the proper treatment. Rainfur's breaths were short and shallow. Every moment or so, a tremor swept Rainfur's body. Without warning, Rainfur began to spasm violently, as if possessed.

Nightsong rushed to Rainfur, pinning her forelegs to the ground to prevent injury. "Shadefern, help me restrain her."

Shadefern nodded. She leaped toward Rainfur and held her hindlegs down. Seeing this, Shattered Oak rushed over to hold Rainfur's side down.

After a short length of time, Rainfur stopped sizing.

It was then Nightsong noticed red mush in the vomit. He gasped, glad he had brought yarrow. This was a classic case of bloodberry poisoning. The only treatment that worked was to have the patent eat yarrow leaves, which would induce vomiting, which would get the bloodberries out of the patents system.

"Eat this." Nightsong waved a yarrow leaf in front of Rainfur's nose.

Rainfur chewed the leaf, grimacing from the pungent, tangy taste. A wad of yarrow pulp landed on Nightsong's shoulder.

"I know that it tastes terrible, but you must swallow some." Nightsong pushed another leaf toward her.

Rainfur swallowed the remaining pulp from the forest leaf and began chewing the second. She swallowed, eating the third and last leaf. Anxiety stirred in Nightsong's stomach. Would the yarrow actually work?

"When did you notice that something was wrong?" Nightsong asked Rainfur.

"It all started just after I-" Her mew was cut off by a series of powerful retches. Nightsong looked away.

"Better now?" Nightsong asked after she had finished vomiting.

"Yes it is, but my chest still feels numb."

Nightsong paused, unsure whether he should get more yarrow leaves, or reassure Rainfur. If only Leafwhisker had not challenged Cedartail last moon. She would have known what to do.

A chill found its way down Nightsong's back, like an earthworm escaping a flood, as he recalled his mentor's gruesome fate. Leafwhisker had defied Cedartail, and as a result, was turned into a pile of ash by an orange and crimson tide of Cedartail's flames. "You were saying?"

"I saw a shrew near Cedartail's den," Rainfur began, "no cat had claimed it, so I thought it was fine to eat. Soon after I ate it, my chest began to feel numb. After this, I had trouble breathing and my legs began to be shaky. I was trying to reach your den when I began writhing without control."

"I see," Nightsong said, "I will bring you some water."