Tallstar's Revenge (43 page)

Hopkit sat up straight, quivering with effort. “Still as a stone, right you are!” he mewed. “Barkface, carry on!”

 

Talltail stretched across the width of his nest, then hopped out. He padded over the frosty grass, screwing up his eyes against the early beams of sunlight that flashed over the camp wall. Pigeonkit and Sorrelkit were already awake and chasing Palebird's kits around Hunting Stones.

“Help!” Wrenkit squealed happily as Pigeonkit lunged for her. She scrambled through the crack between the rocks and escaped to the far side.

Palebird was curled beside a tussock, watching fondly, her pelt glowing in the early sunshine.

Where's Hopkit?
Talltail looked for the black pelt of the young tom, relieved to see he wasn't playing with his denmates.
He must be resting at last.
Hopkit had insisted on practicing his battle moves every day since his injury, despite Barkface's warnings. Only when Hawkheart had ordered him sternly to his nest on the threat of not being made an apprentice, ever, had the kit given up.

Doespring was standing at the entrance beside Hareflight. “Are you coming, Talltail?”

“Yes.” He began to cross the clearing.

In the sunrises since ShadowClan had drenched the bramble in their scent, Heatherstar had ordered extra border patrols. Reedfeather had already led Mistmouse, Appledawn, and Stagleap out before sunrise. Now Shrewclaw, Ryestalk, and Doespring were preparing to leave.

“Hopkit!”

Talltail halted as Meadowslip's anxious mew drifted from the nursery.

“Hopkit! Can you hear me?” Heather crunched inside the gorse den. “You're too hot. Can you make it outside? You need to cool down.”

There was no answer.

Talltail stiffened. “Go without me!” he called to Doespring. “I'll join the next patrol.”

Doespring frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“I want to check on Hopkit.”

Shrewclaw scowled. “Reedfeather told us Talltail was joining this patrol.”

Hareflight snorted. “Talltail makes his own rules.” There was bitterness in the warrior's mew.

“Yes, the warrior code doesn't apply to Talltail.” Shrewclaw barged through the entrance.

Talltail ignored him and headed for the nursery. “Meadowslip?” he called through the entrance.

“Come in!” Meadowslip's mew was taut with fear.

Talltail pushed his way through the gorse. His nose wrinkled. The den stank of sickness. “Fetch Hawkheart,” he ordered. Meadowslip hesitated.
“Now.”

She slid from the den. Talltail leaned into Hopkit's nest. Heat pulsed from the young tom's pelt. His eyes were half-open but glazed. “Hopkit?” Talltail thrust his muzzle closer, gagging as the putrid stink of pus bathed his tongue. He grabbed Hopkit's scruff and hauled him from his nest.
He's burning up!
He carried Hopkit out into the frosty air.

Hawkheart was hurrying past the Meeting Hollow, Meadowslip at his tail. He stopped as he caught sight of Hopkit. “Bring him to the medicine den.”

“He needs to cool down,” Talltail growled through clenched jaws.

“I can give him something for the fever.” Hawkheart led the way into his den, clearing away drying herbs to let Talltail lay the kit down on the smooth, sandy floor.

Meadowslip pushed in beside him. “What's wrong?”

“The infection's spreading.” The medicine cat sniffed Hopkit's paw. “I'll make a poultice.” Muttering under his breath, he turned away.

“Where's Barkface?” Talltail's pelt twitched. He wanted the reassurance of his friend. Hopkit was going to be all right, wasn't he?

“He's gathering herbs,” Hawkheart meowed over his shoulder.

“Should I go get him?” Talltail offered.

“He'll be back soon.”

As Hawkheart spoke, the den entrance rustled. Barkface nosed his way in, eyes widening as he saw Talltail, Hopkit, and Meadowslip. He dropped the wad of herbs clamped between his jaws. “What's wrong?”

Hawkheart didn't look up from the poultice he was mixing. “Did you get any marigold?”

“There wasn't any.” Barkface bent down and sniffed Hopkit's paw. “The infection's spreading, isn't it?”

“We need to treat it fast.” Hawkheart glanced at Meadowslip. “Talltail,” he grunted, “take Meadowslip outside. It's too crowded in here.”

“But I want to be near my kit,” Meadowslip protested.

“You'll be more use to him if you stay out of the way,” Hawkheart meowed.

Barkface padded around Hopkit and began chewing Hawkheart's herbs into a pulp. Talltail tried to catch his eye, but the young medicine cat's gaze was fixed on Hopkit. He turned and nudged Meadowslip toward the entrance. “It's too hot in here with all of us,” he murmured, coaxing her into the sharp, fresh air.

He paced the frosty grass outside while Meadowslip crouched beside the heather wall. The sun rose above the horizon, shimmering in the pale leaf-bare sky.
If only there were snow to pack around the burning kit,
Talltail thought.
Hawkheart knows what he's doing.
His heart seemed to echo in his chest, hollowed by worry.
Barkface is with him too. Hopkit will be okay.

“Talltail?” Barkface slid from the medicine den.

Meadowslip leaped to her paws. “How is he?”

“You can go and see him now.” Barkface nodded her inside. His eyes darkened as he turned toward Talltail. He waited until the she-cat had disappeared into the gorse, then crossed the grass. “The infection's in his blood,” he whispered to Talltail.

“That's bad, isn't it?”

Barkface looked grim. “He could die.”

“Is there anything you can give him?”

“We've given him everything we can.” Barkface's eyes were round with worry. “But it's leaf-bare. We're working with wilted herbs, and dried ones. They don't have the same power as newleaf herbs.”

A groan sounded from the medicine den.

“He's in pain!” Talltail's memory flashed back to the rainy night he'd writhed in agony as poison seared in his belly. “Can't you stop it?”

“Hawkheart's giving him poppy seeds, but they can only ease it a little.”

“I was really ill when I was in Twolegplace.”

Barkface jerked up his head. “You were?”

“I was saved by a Twoleg.”

“A
Twoleg
?” Barkface moved closer. “How?”

“I don't know,” Talltail confessed. “I can hardly remember what happened. But Jake told me that there are medicine Twolegs who cure cats.” Hope flashed in his chest. “Perhaps we could take Hopkit to one.”

Barkface backed away. “No!”

“Why not?” Talltail swished his tail. “I could carry him to Twolegplace and leave him somewhere he'd be found. He'd be cured like I was.”

Barkface stiffened. “You were
very
lucky,” he growled. “Who knows what would happen to Hopkit? How would he even survive the journey?” His pelt lifted along his spine.

Talltail flinched. “I just want to help.”

“I know.” Barkface's gaze softened. “But that isn't the way.”

Talltail glanced balefully toward the medicine den, then turned away. Whiteberry and Lilywhisker were hauling dusty heather from their den.

Whiteberry halted, sitting down to catch his breath. “I can't wait until we have apprentices again.”

Lilywhisker dragged a bundle of heather stalks across the grass and turned back for more. “We only have one more moon to wait,” she panted.

Flailfoot pushed his way out of the den, struggling with a trailing piece of sheepswool. “I just hope Stagleap remembers to bring fresh wool back from patrol or we'll be sleeping on bare heather tonight.”

“I can fetch some.” Talltail trotted toward them. He hooked the lump of wool from the Flailfoot's paw and tossed it away. A flea leaped from it and bit his leg. Grunting, Talltail jerked his head down and cracked the flea between his teeth.

Lilywhisker shook her head. “We try to keep the bedding clean.” She glanced at the older cats and lowered her voice. “Their eyesight isn't what it used to be. They find fleas hard to spot.”

Flamepelt padded from the den, his orange fur glowing in the sunshine. “I pulled a tick from your tail yesterday.”

“But you missed the fleas.” Lilywhisker's fur rippled. “They kept me awake all night biting.”

Whiteberry scratched his ear. “Fleas are faster than ticks.”

“Let me look.” Talltail began to snuffle through the fur on Lilywhisker's flank.

“What's all the fuss in the medicine den?” Flailfoot asked, craning her neck to see across the clearing.

Talltail burst a flea in his teeth and straightened up. “Hopkit's very ill. The infection in his paw has spread.”

Lilywhisker flattened her ears. “Does he have a fever?”

Talltail nodded. “Barkface doesn't know if his herbs will help—”

“Talltail!”

Brown fur flashed on the edge of Talltail's vision. Barkface was racing toward him. The young medicine cat skidded to a halt. “I have an idea!”

Talltail pricked his ears. “What?”

“I remember Brambleberry mentioned sedge at the Moonstone once.” He looked at Heatherstar. “It grows all through leaf-bare, doesn't it?”

“Yes, you can see it around the RiverClan camp from the gorge,” Heatherstar agreed.

“Brambleberry said there was one type of sedge that cured infection.” Barkface's eyes shone. “Sweet-sedge, I think she called it. She uses the roots. She might have some in her store.”

“How can we get our paws on it?” Heatherstar's pelt pricked. “We can't send a patrol; RiverClan might take it as a sign of attack.”

“Well, we're not going to steal it.” Barkface paced around her. “If I went by myself and asked, RiverClan might listen. I'm a medicine cat, not a warrior, and it's part of our code that we have to save the life of a kit, whatever Clan they are from.”

Heatherstar stared. “You want to walk into RiverClan territory
alone
?”

Talltail stepped forward. “I'll go with him.”

Heatherstar lifted her chin. “WindClan cats don't cross borders and we don't beg other Clans for help.”

“But what about Hopkit?” Talltail pleaded. “He might die if we don't do something.”

“He has StarClan to protect him.”

“Sometimes StarClan isn't enough.” Talltail flexed his claws. “They didn't save Sandgorse.”

“Or Brackenwing,” Barkface put in.

Heatherstar stared at the young medicine cat. “Are you doubting StarClan?”

“I believe that they trust us to help ourselves,” Barkface mewed softly. “If there is some way of saving Hopkit, I'm going to find it.”

Talltail's heart quickened. “We can't let boundaries get in our way!” Why were the Clans so obsessed with scent lines? They were great for deciding who hunted where, but when a kit's life was at stake how could anyone believe that invisible boundaries were more important?

Heatherstar looked at the elders. They returned her gaze in silence.

Then Flailfoot spoke. “Talltail is right.”

Lilywhisker nodded. “There are no boundaries in StarClan.”

“If Barkface and Talltail are willing to ask RiverClan for help on behalf of their Clanmate, we should honor them.” Whiteberry dipped his head.

“Very well.” Heatherstar nodded briskly. “If it must be done, then do it now. There's no time to lose.” She turned toward the medicine den and ordered over her shoulder, “Go!”

Talltail turned and dashed toward the camp entrance. He felt Barkface's breath on his tail as he raced through the tunnel.

“Not so fast!” Barkface panted when Talltail hared down the slope.

He glanced over his shoulder. Barkface was trailing behind as they streaked toward the border. Talltail slowed. “How are we going to cross the river?” he asked as Barkface caught up.

Barkface frowned. “We might be able to signal a RiverClan patrol from this side.”

“Good plan.” Talltail wasn't looking forward to getting his fur wet. He wasn't even sure he could swim.
Please let a RiverClan patrol be passing.

Talltail didn't pause as they crossed the border markers, ignoring the RiverClan scent as it touched his tongue. They scrambled down the steep path at the end of the gorge, and met the river where it widened and slowed after tumbling between the cliffs. Downstream, thick sedge hid the far bank.

“The RiverClan camp must be somewhere over there.” Barkface pointed with his tail toward the dark green rushes.

Talltail tasted the air. Damp, lush scent rolled over his tongue. Then he scanned the flat meadowland beyond the river, hoping to catch sight of a pelt moving through the long grass. “No sign of a patrol. We're going to have to swim across.”

“Can you swim?” Barkface asked.

“Let's find out.” Talltail padded over the pebbly shore and waded into the water. He was surprised by the weight of the current. It pushed against his legs and dragged at his belly fur, cold as ice. He shivered. “Do you want to wait here?” Was there any sense in risking both their lives?

Barkface splashed into the water beside him. “They're less likely to attack if I'm with you,” he meowed. He pushed determinedly into the river.

Talltail watched the water swallow Barkface's shoulders. “Are you swimming?”

“My paws are still on the bottom.”

Talltail's heart pricked with hope. Perhaps it was so shallow they'd be able to wade across.

“I'm swimming now!” Barkface's call was cut short as he disappeared beneath the surface. He appeared a moment later, splashing and coughing.

“Barkface!” Talltail dived after his friend. The icy water soaked through his fur, its chill piercing his bones in a heartbeat. As the bottom disappeared from beneath his paws, he fought panic. Flailing, he tried to haul himself forward, stretching his neck to keep his muzzle in the air. “Barkface!”