Warriors Super Edition: Yellowfang’s Secret (17 page)

“You can’t stop us from coming here!” Red declared. “We don’t live by your rules.”

“We can make you stop if we want to,” Cedarstar retorted.

The second cat, an older tabby tom who Yellowfang didn’t recognize, took a pace forward to stand at Red’s shoulder. “I’d like to see you try,” he hissed. “You wild cats think you’re so great! Lay one claw on us and I’ll wipe that smug look off your face.”

Cedarstar didn’t respond in words. Instead he raised his tail and kinked it in the signal for battle. Instantly the rest of the warriors rose out of the shadows with angry yowls. They surrounded the kittypets, a barrier of furious cats with teeth bared and claws at the ready. Raggedpelt and Nutwhisker stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their lips drawn back in snarls of defiance. Rowanberry was flexing her claws as if she couldn’t wait to sink them into a kittypet.

Yellowfang saw a look of sheer astonishment cross the faces of Red and the tabby. But neither of them turned to flee. The tabby tom let out a screech and three more cats jumped over the fence and landed on the ground beside the kittypets. Yellowfang winced as she recognized the skinny gray tom.

Boulder’s here now! This just gets worse and worse
…

Cedarstar launched himself at Red, and the rest of the warriors leaped into battle behind their leader. Yellowfang hung back, reluctant to tangle with a cat who might recognize her. She watched at the edge of the battle as Red shoved Cedarstar off balance, sending him stumbling against a tree stump. The Clan leader gathered himself and leaped at Red again; the russet she-cat sprang away, only to trip over a tangle of tree roots and fall on one side. Cedarstar gave her a swipe over her haunches before spinning around and hurling himself back into the thick of the fight.

Yellowfang stared at Red, who was struggling to wrench one forepaw clear of the roots.
Could I possibly talk to her?
She took a hesitant step toward Red, feeling a stab of pain shoot through her paw, then halted as Deerleap gave her a shove. “Attack!” the old cat snarled. “This is what I trained you for!”

Hot shame flooded through Yellowfang. Picking out a plump ginger tom she had never seen before, she aimed a blow at his shoulder, knocking him off balance. The tom struggled to get to his paws, but before Yellowfang could follow up her first blow, Red, free of the roots now, slipped between them, spinning around to face Yellowfang with fury in her eyes.

The she-cat aimed a blow at Yellowfang, claws unsheathed to rake across her ear. Suddenly she stopped, her eyes open wide. “It’s you!” she gasped.

Newtspeck, battling the big tabby tom, heard Red’s exclamation and glanced over her shoulder at Yellowfang. “What does she mean?” she demanded.

Yellowfang couldn’t think of any reply. Taking advantage of Newtspeck’s brief distraction, the tabby tom she’d been fighting knocked her over and landed on top of her, putting an end to any more questions.

A heartbeat later Raggedpelt charged into the tangle of cats. “Don’t say a word!” he snarled into Red’s ear.

Red looked startled. “About what?”

“You know very well what—”

Raggedpelt was interrupted as Scorchwind dived for Red, aiming a blow at her shoulder. Red whipped around and raced for the fence.

“There’s no need to kill!” Stonetooth’s voice rang out above the yowls of fighting cats. “These are kittypets! We’ll soon send them wailing back to their Twolegs!”

“Pretty tough kittypets,” Yellowfang muttered to herself.

She turned to see Rowanberry battling Boulder. Her sister’s eyes flashed with the exhilaration of the fight as she leaped from side to side to confuse her opponent, her blows landing with precision. Slowly but inexorably she was driving the skinny gray tom back toward the fence. Blood trickled down his face from a torn ear.

Yellowfang intercepted a black-and-white tom, who was racing to help Boulder, by rearing up onto her hind legs and buffeting his ears with her forepaws. The black-and-white cat crumpled to the ground. But though Yellowfang relished the strength of her muscles and the certainty of her swiping paws, she couldn’t help wincing with every blow she landed. She stung all over as if her pelt had been ripped off.

I have to toughen up,
she thought.
I’m fighting for my Clan!

She was forcing the tom back against the fence when she suddenly felt pressure on her throat, as if something was crushing her windpipe. Her attack faltered as she struggled to breathe. The tom launched himself at her again; through swirling vision Yellowfang saw that Nutwhisker had flung himself between them, giving her a moment’s respite.

Her breath rasping in her throat, Yellowfang turned to see the big tabby holding Deerleap down with one paw planted on her neck. Yellowfang staggered across to them, swiping her claws down the tabby’s flank. He rolled over and scrambled away.

“Thanks, Yellowfang,” Deerleap gasped, struggling to her paws. “But I was fine, really. I was just going to throw him into the brambles.”

And hedgehogs might fly,
Yellowfang thought, though she would never have spoken the words aloud. The pressure on her throat had vanished and she could breathe freely again, her chest heaving as she sucked air into her lungs.
What’s happening to me?

A triumphant yowl from Cedarstar distracted her. “That’s right! Get out, and don’t come back!”

Yellowfang saw the kittypets frantically clawing their way up the fence and vanishing over the other side. None of them looked badly injured, and glancing around at her Clanmates Yellowfang realized that they weren’t seriously wounded either.

“Thank StarClan!” she breathed.

She felt so shaky that her legs would hardly hold her up, and one of her paws hurt so much that she could scarcely put it to the ground, though she couldn’t remember when it had been injured. She spotted Raggedpelt a tail-length away, and this time she managed to meet his gaze. “Red nearly gave us away,” she mewed. “It was so close!”

“Too close,” Raggedpelt growled. Without saying more, he turned away and stalked off in the direction of the camp.

Yellowfang tried to follow, but her head spun with pain and she staggered.

“What’s wrong?” Deerleap asked, stretching out her neck to give Yellowfang a concerned sniff.

“I—I’m okay,” Yellowfang stammered, trying to hide her weakness. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a heavy black cloud.

“Is something the matter?” Cedarstar padded across to Yellowfang’s side, concern in his eyes. “Yellowfang, are you hurt?”

“I don’t know …”

Deerleap sniffed Yellowfang all over and stood back with a puzzled frown. “Just a scratch or two … there must be something wrong that we can’t see. Come on, Yellowfang, lean on my shoulder. We’ll get you back to camp and let Sagewhisker take a look at you.”

Yellowfang and Deerleap were the last cats to struggle back into the camp. The sky was growing pale and the stars were fading. When Yellowfang and her former mentor emerged from the tunnel, the rest of the Clan was gathered around the returned patrols in an excited huddle.

“And then I slashed him over the ear like this,” Nutwhisker was meowing. “You should have heard him screech!”

Skirting the edge of the group, Yellowfang limped to Sagewhisker’s den, thankful for Deerleap’s shoulder supporting her. She slipped between the boulders that formed the entrance to the den, and sank down onto the moss inside.

Sagewhisker looked up from counting poppy seeds. “Yellowfang? Were you hurt in the battle?”

“I’m not sure,” Deerleap meowed. “I didn’t see her take any particularly bad blows, and I can’t find any injuries on her, but she’s exhausted and she can hardly walk. Something isn’t right.”

“Hmm …” Sagewhisker glanced from Deerleap to Yellowfang and back again. “Okay, Deerleap, you can leave her with me. I’ll give her a thorough checkup.”

Yellowfang looked up nervously as Sagewhisker padded over to her. The medicine cat didn’t ask her any questions, just sniffed her all over, parting her fur here and there with gentle paws. Finally she sat down beside Yellowfang and wrapped her tail neatly around her forepaws.

“There’s hardly a scratch on you, but you already know that, don’t you?”

Yellowfang stared at her, baffled. “I must be wounded! I hurt all over.”

Sagewhisker paused for a moment before replying. “Which part of you hurts the most?”

“This paw.” Yellowfang stretched out a forepaw. “I can hardly put any weight on it.”

“Did any other cat hurt her paw?”

Yellowfang tried to remember the chaos of the battle. “Well, Red … I mean, one of the kittypets got her paw stuck under a root. But that didn’t have anything to do with me.”

Sagewhisker didn’t comment. “And what’s the next worst pain?”

“My ear.” Yellowfang flicked it, wincing. “It feels like some cat tore it off.”

“No, it’s still there, quite untouched,” Sagewhisker assured her. “Did you see any cat with an injured ear?”

Yellowfang nodded, remembering Rowanberry’s fight with Boulder and the blood trickling down his face.

“What about a flank injury?” the medicine cat persisted.

“How would I know?” Yellowfang retorted, irritable because Sagewhisker’s questions were starting to make her feel uncomfortable. “I was
in
the battle, you know, not watching from up in a tree.” When Sagewhisker didn’t respond, she added uncertainly, “Maybe Cedarstar … he fell against a tree stump.”

“I’ll have to see him about that,” Sagewhisker meowed.

“But what about me?” Yellowfang protested. “Aren’t you going to treat my injuries?”

Sagewhisker gazed at her from calm green eyes. “I’ve already told you, Yellowfang, you hardly have a scratch on you. You fought well and escaped without injury. What you are feeling is the injuries of the other cats.”

“What do you mean?” Yellowfang mewed shakily. “How can that happen?”

“I don’t know,” Sagewhisker admitted. “This isn’t the first time, though, is it?”

Yellowfang thought back to the times she had been in pain.
When I fought that huge WindClan tom, I felt like I was seriously injured, but I wasn’t. And there was the pain I felt when Silverflame was dying … and the time when my belly ached when Nutkit ate the crow-food. Great StarClan, has this been happening since I was a
kit?

“I guess not,” Yellowfang mewed quietly. “But … doesn’t every cat feel the same? It’s not hard to see an injury and imagine how it feels!”

“This isn’t your imagination,” Sagewhisker told her. “StarClan must have given you these feelings for a reason, and we have to find out what it is.”

“No!” Yellowfang forced herself to her paws, ignoring painful muscles that shrieked in protest. “I don’t want to be different! I just want to be a warrior!”

Yellowfang stormed out of the medicine
cat’s den in a whirl of fury and terror, brushing past Rowanberry, who was waiting for her.

“What’s the matter?” Rowanberry called, trotting after her. “Are you okay?”

Yellowfang strode on without replying. Her paw still ached, but she did her best to ignore it. She didn’t want to talk to any cat, not even her sister. She was heading for the warriors’ den, but before she had covered even half the distance, Brightflower bounded up to her.

“Little one!” her mother gasped. “Are you badly hurt? I hear you fought so bravely.”