The journey back was long and painful. After what seemed like moons, they came to the bottom of the sloping hill that led to the grove camp. Heronpaw looked up at it with dread. His leg already hurt so badly. He had no idea how he was supposed to climb the hill. Kestrelfeather looked discouraged too. He turned to Heronpaw and, upon seeing his apprentice's face, spoke.
"Let's wait here."
Heronpaw merely nodded. He thought he might vomit if he opened his mouth. Kestrelfeather helped Heronpaw limp over to a clear patch of mossy ground and lie down.
"I'll check ahead." Kestrelfeather said.
Before Heronpaw could argue Kestrelfeather had disappeared through the ferns.
Heronpaw sat for a while in silence. The pain in his leg had lessened to a dull ache but he still was unable to move it. One of his eyes was swollen and the other was stinging with tiredness. Every muscle in his body ached from his struggle against the current. Never in his life had he wanted so badly to be home in his nest.
As his eyelids started to droop, he became faintly aware of a white blur at the edge of his vision. The blur grew larger, causing Heronpaw to feel a twinge of concern. He forced his eyes open in order to rid his view of the spot. Instead of disappearing the blur came into sharp focus. It was a cat.
A jolt of fear shot through Heronpaw. He whipped his head around to face the apparition, but it was gone.
What is happening to me?! He thought. He squeezed his eyes shut.
The sound of light pawsteps from Heronpaw's left sent shivers down his spine.
Leave me alone!
A sensation that some cat was standing in front of him came over Heronpaw. He resisted the urge to cower like a kit. He shook, not from cold, but from fear.
A soft breath passed over the left side of his face. The warm air ruffled his whiskers. The thing was very close to his ear. There was a moment where Heronpaw felt something soft like feathers brush his injured leg. He lay there completely stiff with his eyes clenched shut.
It's not really there. I just have to ignore it and it'll go away. He thought. His heart was pounding so fast it hurt. It's just the pain. I'm just imagining things.
The feeling of a presence vanished. Intense relief washed over Heronpaw and loosened his clenched muscles.
A rustling in the undergrowth to his right announced Kestrelfeather's return.
With great effort Heronpaw opened his eyes in time to see Kestrelfeather and Dawnheart approaching him. They were closely followed by Plumleaf and her apprentice, Petalpaw. Behind them were Heronpaw's brothers. He felt a muted sense of surprise at the sight of them.
Plumleaf dropped the bundle of herbs she was carrying and began sorting them into piles with her small gray paws.
"What happened?" She demanded. As Kestrelfeather explained, Hawkpaw and Crowpaw rushed to Heronpaw's side. Hawkpaw shoved his nose close to Heronpaw's face.
"Heronpaw!" Hawkpaw said. He paused as his gray eyes took in Heronpaw's withered form. He made a noise like he had stumbled into a pile of fox dung. "What happened to your leg?"
"Get away you furballs! He needs air." Petalpaw's impatient hiss came from behind the two apprentices. She pushed them aside and shooed them away. She bent over Heronpaw's injured leg and sniffed it all over.
Heronpaw was only half aware of what was going on. He felt a very sharp pain run down his leg. He flinched.
"Does that hurt?" Petalpaw's voice drifted to him from across a great distance.
"Yes." He grunted back from between clenched teeth.
There was a moment of silence.
"How about this?"
"No."
"Can you feel this at all?"
"No."
"Plumleaf, it's definitely dislocated."
"You can fix that, right?" Hawkpaw's worried mew came from somewhere to Heronpaw's left.
"Of course, I can." Plumleaf said impatiently. The medicine cat's pungent herb encrusted scent enveloped Heronpaw as she examined him head to tail.
"But he looks completely comatose. What's wrong with him?" Kestrelfeather's gruff voice was still shaking slightly.
"Petalpaw. Feverfew." The medicine cat said.
A few seconds later, Heronpaw felt Plumleaf's soft paws pry his mouth open. Another paw placed a lump of chewed up leaves on his tongue. He could feel their cool juices flow down his throat. With great difficulty he swallowed.
"Good. That's it." Plumleaf said in a much softer voice than before. She stroked his throat with her paw to make sure that he swallowed. Almost immediately Heronpaw could feel the medicine working. His eyes began to clear up and his body stopped shivering.
"Petalpaw, escort Kestrelfeather back to-"
"Excuse me." Kestrelfeather harshly interrupted Plumleaf's orders. "I am not going anywhere."
Heronpaw's head had cleared enough that he could raise it off the ground slightly. He looked up at his mentor and Plumleaf. To Heronpaw's surprise, the fluffy medicine cat was staring the warrior down.
"Heronpaw is my patient." She snapped. "If you want him treated, I suggest you do as I say."
"I'm fine." Growled Kestrelfeather. He sounded tough but took a step back from Plumleaf's sharp tongue.
"You'll get in my way. Like you are right now." Plumleaf said. She continued to stare at Kestrelfeather with unblinking brown eyes. The warrior opened his mouth to protest, but only fragments of words came out.
"Fine." He relented. He gave one last frustrated look in Heronpaw's direction before turning around and stalking off through the ferns. Petalpaw followed.
Plumleaf sighed.
"Mentors are worse than the apprentices." She muttered.
"How are we going to get Heronpaw home?" Dawnheart said. It was the first time he had spoken. Heronpaw had quite forgotten he was there, mostly due to the fact that the pale warrior wasn't in Heronpaw's direct line of sight.
"He's going to walk." Plumleaf said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I'm going to what?" Heronpaw spluttered. He couldn't imagine moving his leg let alone walking on it.
"Hawkpaw. Make yourself useful and fetch a thick stick." Plumleaf said, ignoring Heronpaw completely.
The sound of Hawkpaw crashing through the undergrowth caused Heronpaw to start panicking. He watched Plumleaf separate some leaves. Her expression told him nothing about what was to come.
"What can I do?" Dawnheart said. He took a step forward and into Heronpaw's eyesight. The usually well-groomed warrior was disheveled and dirty. Plumleaf looked up at him.
"You can help fix his leg." She said
Dawnheart cast a nervous glance at Heronpaw.
"Will it hurt him?" he said.
"Yeah, will it hurt?" Heronpaw echoed. He felt his panic rising in his chest. Would some cat just tell him what was about to happen?
"I got the stick!" Hawkpaw's excited yowl interrupted the moment. He bounded into the scene. A branch thicker than a cat's tail was clenched in his jaws.
"Good. Give it to Heronpaw." Plumleaf said. She licked her paw, dipped it into a bowl-shaped leaf, and limped her way over to her patient. She held her paw out to him.
"Lick." She commanded. Heronpaw eyed the tiny black seeds that were stuck to her soft pad. He licked them up.
"What are they for?" he asked. Hawkpaw padded up to his brother and offered him the stick. "What is this for?" he added.
"Poppy seeds for pain." Plumleaf said. She was busy examining his swollen shoulder. "The stick is also for pain."
Heronpaw couldn't answer. He had taken the branch in his mouth already.
"Dawnheart come here." Plumleaf flicked her tail at the warrior. Dawnheart hurried over.
"Put your paws here."
Heronpaw couldn't see what they were doing, but he felt Dawnheart place his uncertain paws on either side of his friend's shoulder blades.
"Don't be afraid to press down when I start. Hawkpaw, you make sure his legs don't move." Plumleaf said. "Crowpaw." Her voice rose a little to get the apprentice's attention.
Heronpaw saw his brother slowly walk up to the medicine cat. His ears were flat and his blue eyes wide.
"I need you to steady his head." Plumleaf said.
Crowpaw left Heronpaw's line of sight as he circled around behind his head.
"Paws on everyone." Plumleaf ordered.
Six paws pressed down all over Heronpaw's body.
"Look at me, Heronpaw." Plumleaf said. Her voice had lost its brusqueness. It was low and comforting now, like a mother speaking to her kit.
Heronpaw met the medicine cat's calm gaze with wide eyes. He felt his heavy breathing slow.
"I'm going to fix your leg now. It's going to hurt, but only for a moment. I'll pull on the count of three, okay?"
Heronpaw gave a tiny nod. His heart was pounding. The tiredness that had consumed him just minutes before was dissolving as fresh adrenaline pumped through his body.
Plumleaf took Heronpaw's injured leg in her mouth. He realized for the first time that his paw was completely numb. This thought barely escaped his mind when Plumleaf's muffled count of "One!" sounded in his ear. Heronpaw squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply in preparation for the pain that would come with the count of three.
Instead of hearing the number two like he expected Heronpaw felt a sharp jerk and a bolt of searing pain. Amidst the breathtaking pain Heronpaw heard a sickening click and a snap. He tried to jerk away, but Crowpaw's steady grip kept him still.
Heronpaw bit down on the wood between his teeth. All his claws unsheathed as he uttered a guttural screech of pain.
As quickly as it had come, the pain was gone. All that was left was a dull, pounding ache. Heronpaw managed to peel open his eyes. Plumleaf was sniffing his shoulder intently. She prodded the leg all over with a paw. Heronpaw was relieved to feel no more pain.
"Well done!" Plumleaf said with a purr.
A collective purr of relief came from every direction around Heronpaw's head. Finally feeling like he could, Heronpaw tried to sit up. Plumleaf laid her forepaw on his good shoulder and pushed him back down.
"I don't want you walking yet." She said, "That was harder than I expected."
She organized the other three cats into a party that could carry Heronpaw up the slope and back to camp. Heronpaw tried to listen, but a strange fog was clogging his thoughts. He hardly reacted when Dawnheart and Crowpaw lifted him off the ground and onto Hawkpaw's back. Crowpaw hurried to Hawkpaw's side to help bear his brother's weight.
As the procession made its way up the hill, Heronpaw felt an overwhelming urge to drift off into sleep. His aching muscles slowly stopped their complaining as the poppy seeds took effect. After a short while (or a long while; Heronpaw wasn't sure), they reached the fern tunnel and entered the camp.
An explosion of sound met Heronpaw's ears, jolting him out of his sleepy state. Cats flocked to the group. Heronpaw could hear a few welcome voices among the throng.
"Heronpaw! Oh, Heronpaw you're alive!"
That was Ferntail. He would've liked to see her.
"He's okay, right?"
Slatefang sounded unhurt, though drained. That was nice.
"Let me see him. Move out of the way."
Kestrelfeather of course. Had he always sounded so funny?
"Kestrelfeather get back in that den or so help me StarClan…!"
Petalpaw was speaking to a warrior that way? She had guts.
"Everycat move. Plumleaf needs to get through." Whiteshade's commanding voice rose above every other concerned meow.
The noise died away as Heronpaw's bearers entered the medicine clearing. Heronpaw heard the soothing sound of the bubbling stream that ran through the glade.
Crowpaw and Hawkpaw carefully laid Heronpaw down into a nest of downy feathers at Plumleaf's command. Exhaustion tugged at his consciousness as he lay in the soft bedding. He purred as the feathers tickled his muzzle.
Heronpaw drifted away to the sound of Plumleaf forcing Kestrelfeather and Slatefang to lay down and rest as well.
Heronpaw took a long deep breath and felt his entire worn and wearied body relax.
Sleep took him almost immediately.
. . .
Dawnheart watched as Heronpaw was borne away by his brothers and Plumleaf. He couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for what had happened. Logically, he knew that he was not at fault but he still felt the sting of guilt.
He blinked, trying to forget the looks on the faces of the WillowClan warriors as they realized that a kitty-pet had been given a warrior name.
The muttering from his Clanmates grew louder as every cat asked the same question; what happened?
"Dawnheart!" A familiar voice called out.
Dawnheart turned to see Blizzardstar himself heading over. His face was stern, but concerned. "Tell me everything."
Dawnheart was forced to give his retelling of the story surrounded by curious warriors and apprentices. He tried to keep his eyes and attention on his leader, but the stares of his Clanmates were making him uncomfortable. As he went on, the cats around him became more and more agitated. When Dawnheart got to the part where Twistedroot had refused the trade, the dam broke.
"What?!" Swiftwing yowled.
"They can't do that!" Cried his mate, Honeyleaf. Her blue eyes were wide with fear.
"Fox-hearts." Growled Elkheart.
Blizzardstar held up his tail for silence. It fell at once. He gestured for Dawnheart to continue. Dawnheart did.
The Clan held its silence until he had finished, then the mutterings broke out again in full force.
Blizzardstar didn't say anything at first. Dawnheart's belly churned as he waited. Finally, Blizzardstar raised his head and addressed the gathered cats.
"This is concerning news," he began in his rumbling voice, "It has been many moons since a Clan has refused trade."
"What are we going to do about it?" snarled Brushfire. Her denmate, Sweetsorrel, shot the ginger warrior an annoyed glare.
Blizzardstar considered for a brief moment before speaking. "The Gathering is in a few day's time. I will speak to Cougarstar about it then. In the meantime, no cat is to go looking for trouble at the WillowClan border. We do not need the situation to escalate."
Most cats seemed to be satisfied with this answer. Dawnheart noticed, however, that Brushfire and Cloudpelt were exchanging dark looks.
They were probably blaming Dawnheart for this. If he hadn't been there, the trade would have gone off without a snag and the Clan would have its catmint.
And, Dawnheart thought darkly, Heronpaw would be just fine.
. . .
The sun was just beginning to set when Dawnheart was awoken from his drowsing by a sharp prod in his side. He rolled over, expecting to see Whiteshade ready with an assignment, but instead he saw Slatefang standing there looking jumpy.
"Want to go hunting?" Slatefang said. He kept glancing around, obviously on the lookout.
Dawnheart shook his coat out. "Are you supposed to be out here? I thought Plumleaf-"
"She said I could leave." Slatefang said quickly. His green eyes flicked towards the camp entrance where Dawnheart caught a glimpse of a familiar bushy red tail whipping out of sight.
Dawnheart fixed his denmate with a hard stare. Slatefang returned it resolutely.
Slatefang was going to follow Brushfire no matter what Dawnheart did. The least he could do was be there to head off any confrontation.
"Fine." He said. He stretched and stood up.
Slatefang wasted no time. He bounded across the clearing and pushed out into the forest. Dawnheart had to hurry to keep up.
Brushfire's scent was pungent and fresh. Two other scents accompanied it; Cloudpelt and Shadowgrove. Dawnheart was surprised. Shadowgrove had always been amiable. Had he been hiding disdain for Dawnheart this whole time?
With Slatefang in the lead, the two new warriors followed the scents of their seniors. Each step mounted Dawnheart's anxiety. He didn't know for sure if he would be able to dissuade Slatefang from confronting the warriors if they were indeed discussing what Dawnheart imagined. But, being here was better than letting Slatefang out alone.
It didn't take long before the sound of voices caused Slatefang and Dawnheart to slow. They settled down in the undergrowth and krept forward until the voices became audible. Then they listened.
"-knew something like this would happen." Brushfire was growling.
"It's a clear sign that StarClan is angry." Cloudpelt said in his strangely passive way. "Why else would they let this happen?"
There was a pause and then Shadowgrove spoke in his low rumble. "The ceremony went smoothly." there was uncertainty in his voice. "Why would StarClan give him a warrior name if they were angry?"
Dawnheart felt himself relax a little.
"I was thinking about that." Brushfire said excitedly. "Remember how Lilypool and Sootcloud doted on him?"
Dawnheart flinched at the sound of his adoptive parents' names. A sense of foreboding krept up his spine.
Shadowgrove's voice was cool. "Of course I remember my daughter and her mate."
Brushfire carried on without abashment. "Well, they're in StarClan aren't they? Maybe they gave Blizzardstar the name without the rest of StarClan approval."
"And now," Cloudpelt interjected before Shadowgrove could respond, "StarClan is punishing Blizzardstar for his short-sightedness."
Dawnheart felt Slatefang tense beside him. He shot him a warning glance. Slatefang looked back, anger burning in his eyes, but he gave a tiny nod and settled the fur on his shoulders.
"I will not sit here and listen to this nonsense." Shadowgrove said loudly. "How dare you slander my daughter's name!"
Dawnheart realized just in time that he and Slatefang had to move. He pushed his denmate to the side and together they scrambled clear of a very large and very angry Shadowgrove pushing his way through the undergrowth and back towards camp. He was so consumed by his furious mutterings that he didn't notice the two young warriors.
Dawnheart watched as the senior warrior disappeared, feeling warmed. At least he knew he had been right about one cat.
Unfortunately, the momentary distraction left them with no time to move out of the way of Brushfire and Cloudpelt who were moving towards them.
"I knew he was a lost cause." Cloudpelt was saying.
Brushfire shrugged. "It was worth a try. He's close to Blizzardstar so-" she stopped mid sentence as she caught sight of Dawnheart and Slatefang standing awkwardly among some roots.
Her brown eyes narrowed at them. "What are you two doing?" she hissed.
"Hunting." Dawnheart blurted out.
Cloudpelt flattened one ear. "You'd do well to stay out of senior warrior business," he said coolly.
"Sorry," Dawnheart said with a quick bow of his head. He cast a glance at Slatefang, hoping against hope that his friend was doing the same.
Slatefang was not bowing. His hackles were raised and his teeth were bared in an ugly snarl.
Alarmed, Dawnheart gave Slatefang a nudge. Slatefang didn't react.
Brushfire glared at Slatefang. "Got something to say, little warrior?" Her claws slid from their sheaths and dug into the mossy ground.
Cloudpelt stepped between the two bristling warriors. "Now, now, the warrior code forbids infighting." he said. He gave Dawnheart a placid stare. "Run along now."
Dawnheart nudged Slatefang again, and this time Slatefang responded. He whipped around and darted away through the trees. Dawnheart cast one last glance at the senior warriors before following.
They obviously didn't care that their conversation had been overheard. They either had no fear of the consequences, or they were completely convinced that they were in the right.
Slatefang only ran for a short while before coming to an agitated stop. His claws flexed in and out and his tail lashed.
"Foxhearts, the both of them." he spat. "How dare they question Blizzardstar. How dare they question-" he cut off, seemingly too angry to speak.
"Calm down." Dawnheart tried to lay a comforting tail on Slatefang's back, but the tabby jerked away. He glared at Dawnheart.
"Calm down?" he hissed. He began pacing, tail still lashing. "You don't understand. They suggested that my family were traitors!"
"I thought I was family, too." Dawnheart said, stung.
Slatefang faltered. "I-you are." he said, abashed.
There was a moment of silence. Dawnheart moved forward and rested his tail on Slatefang's side.
"Brushfire is just grasping at cobwebs. She knew our parents. She knows they were good and loyal cats." Dawnheart said.
Slatefang ripped up a clump of dirt with his claws. "I won't let them blame my family for this." he growled. He looked up and met Dawnheart's gaze. "Any one of my family."
Dawnheart blinked gratefully. "It's good to have you on my side."
Slatefang looked taken aback. "Of course I am!" he said firmly. "You belong in the forest."
Dawnheart purred. "Come on, let's do some hunting."
Slatefang opened his mouth to reply when they were joined suddenly by their fellow young warrior, Cherrynose, crashing through the bushes.
She stopped at the sight of them, her amber eyes growing wide. "Oh!" She said. "Hello!" Her gaze was fixed on Slatefang.
"Hi." Dawnheart said, slightly amused. Cherrynose blinked and looked at Dawnheart as if she had just noticed he was there.
"Hi," she said again. She was a little out of breath. "Um, I was wondering," she looked back at Slatefang, "if you would like to go hunting?"
Slatefang blinked at her. "I am hunting."
Cherrynose's ears flicked in embarrassment. "I, ah, meant with me."
"I'm hunting with Dawnheart." Slatefang said blankly.
Cherrynose's tail fell.
Dawnheart rolled his eyes. "Actually, I was feeling a bit tired," he said. "I was thinking about going back to camp."
"Really?" Cherrynose's face lit up immediately.
Slatefang cast him a quizzical look. "But you said-"
Dawnheart gave a fake yawn. "You wouldn't mind taking my place, would you Cherrynose?"
"Not at all!" Cherrynose chirped. She gave Slatefang a glowing look.
"Don't come back until you've caught me a nice juicy squirrel." Dawnheart meowed to Slatefang. Slatefang gave him a weird look, but didn't protest.
Dawnheart turned to go. "See you later." he said with a wave of his tail. He left before Slatefang could respond.
Dawnheart wasn't ready to go back to camp. He veered towards the lake instead. As much as he enjoyed Slatefang's company, Dawnheart figured that it would do the tabby some good to spend time with somecat else for a change.
And, Dawnheart wanted Slatefang to be distracted from his ever present anger. It would be hard to do that, he imagined, with such a poignant reminder hanging around.
As he walked through the darkening forest, Dawnheart found himself dwelling on Brushfire's words. Maybe her theory had some truth to it. If there were living cats who distrusted him, surely there were dead ones who felt the same way?
He shook himself. No. He had a warrior name. StarClan had given it freely. That should be enough. It would be enough.
Dawnheart had almost reached the shoreline when a strange scent hit his nose. He paused, trying to place it. He turned on the spot. He stopped when something caught his eye.
Several tree-lengths inland from the lake was a dark shape. The sunset shadows had almost obscured it, but as Dawnheart stared, he could parse it from the surrounding blackness. It was a cat. A black cat. Too big to be Blackmoth or Crowpaw, and there were no other solid black cats in CedarClan.
With a jolt, Dawnheart realized what that meant. There was an intruder on his land. He stiffened and dropped into a crouch. His heart pounded. First a squabble over trade, now trespassing? Things were escalating.
Not wanting to spook his prey, Dawnheart crept silently towards the dark cat. As he drew nearer, the fur on the back of his neck began to lift.
Why was this cat so brazenly out in the open? Why hadn't it moved?
As if warned by Dawnheart's thoughts, the cat turned its head. Dawnheart couldn't see its eyes, but it was definitely looking right at him. He froze.
The loud alarm call of a bird made Dawnheart jump and twitch his head away from the shape for a heartbeat. When he looked back, the black cat had gone.
Dawnheart leapt into a run. He found the spot where the cat had been and began searching for scents.
There was definitely cat-scent here, but it was old, stale, and distinctly CedarClan. Confused, Dawnheart straightened up and looked around himself. He could see far through the forest in every direction, even in the darkening light. There was no one.
Dawnheart shook his head. It had to have been a shadow that tricked him. Still, he thought to himself as he turned to make his way home again, he should tell someone what he saw.